AN: Sorry for such a long wait, the chapter was already written, finals are approaching so I kept pushing this aside.


I lied on my stomach on the roof of a twelve story building, holding onto my sniper rifle in my hand and placed on the ground in front of me. I stuck my earpiece in my ear deeper, so I can listen into the conversation clearly.

"Yes sir," Sitwell answered the phone.

I looked through the snipers scope, my finger inches from pressing the laser on as I aimed at Sitwell's chest.

"Agent Sitwell, how was lunch? I hear the crab cakes here are delicious," Sam said into the phone.

"Who is this?" Sitwell demanded.

"The good-looking guy in the sun-glasses, your ten o'clock," Sam answered and Sitwell looked in the opposite direction. "Your other ten o'clock," Sitwell turned spotting Sam. "There you go,"

I watched, amused, as Sitwell spun around until he spotted Sam, facing both his and my way, which gave me better access to him.

"What do you want?" Sitwell asked annoyed.

"You're going to go around the corner to your right. There's a grey car two spaces down. You and I are gonna take a ride," Sam instructed simply.

"And why would I do that?" Sitwell asked, a smirk was evident in his tone.

"Because that tie looks really expensive, and I know a sniper who would love to mess it up,"

I immediately pressed the button for the laser, and a small red dot appeared on Sitwell as I aimed it at his tie. I knew we had succeeded in getting him when Sitwell looked down at his tie before jumping and agreeing to go with Sam. I removed my finger off the button and moved my head away from the scope and pushing myself up to my feet.

"That was very easy," I complimented smirking to myself.

I dissembled the rifle and put it back in it's case as I waited for Natasha and Steve, about five minutes later the door was thrown open and Sitwell came flying onto the roof his glasses falling off, courtesy of Steve.

"Tell me about Zola's algorithm," Steve demanded stalking his way to Sitwell, Natasha trailing right behind him.

Sitwell got up to his feet and started to back up towards me. He put his glasses back on, denying all the while.

"Never heard of it," Sitwell stuttered out, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he looked at the three of us in front of him

He was clearly lying, "He's lying Steve," I commented boredly.

"What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?" Steve pressed.

Sitwell anxiously laughed, "I was throwing up, I get seasick," Steve clearly wasn't satisfied with the answer.

Sitwell's heels hit the ledge of the building and from how fast he had been backpedaling, he nearly toppled over. The only reason he didn't go over the edge was because Steve grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket.

I walked up next to Steve's right, Natasha on his left.

"Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof?" Sitwell asked skeptically. "Because it's really not your style, Rogers,"

Steve's jaw twitched before he gave the smallest of smirks, "You're right," he said. "It's not," he added, smoothing out Sitwell's jacket for him. "It's hers," Steve corrected, and moved out of the way.

Natasha stepped forward and with a swift kick to Sitwell's stomach, Sitwell was sent screaming off the building.

I grinned ear to ear and I looked to Natasha, "That was amazing," I laughed.

Natasha grinned back and then suddenly turned to Steve, "Oh, wait!" Natasha exclaimed excitedly. "What about that girl from accounting, L-Laura..." She snapped her fingers trying to remember her name.

"You're really playing matchmaker right now?" I asked amused.

"Yep," Natasha nodded. "So what about her?"

"Lillian. Lip piercing, right?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, she's cute," Natasha nodded.

"Yeah, I'm not ready for that," Steve shrugged just as Sam flew into view with a screaming Sitwell in hand dropping him on the ground then landed himself his wings folding back up into the pack.

We all marched up to Sitwell who was cowering on the ground. Sitwell threw up his hands in defense, as we approached.

"Zola's algorithm is a program for choosing Insight's targets!"

"What targets?" Steve demanded, and Sitwell gestured to him.

"You! And you!" Sitwell announced, gesturing to me now. "A TV anchor in Cairo, the Under Secretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA, Now, or in the future," Sitwell listed quickly.

Steve, Dad, Mom, Leona, Natasha, Sam, and me. Everyone I cared about had to be a target: Grandma, Maria, the Avengers. Everyone.

"In the future?" Steve asked confused. "How could it know?"

Sitwell began to laugh sardonically, "How could it not?"

Sitwell stood up to face Steve, Sam stood closely behind Sitwell in case he tried anything.

"The twenty first century is a digital book," Sitwell explained. "Zola taught Hydra how to read it," Everyone looked confused, but I knew.

"Bank records. School records. Medical histories, voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. That algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future," Sitwell grinned.

"And then what?" Steve questioned.

"Oh my god." Sitwell said as he seemed to come to a realization. "Pierce is going to kill me,"

"Not if I kill you first," I threatened, and flashing him a quick smile.

"What then?" Steve pressed, Sam grabbed onto Sitwell's jacket.

He looked straight at Steve, "Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time," Sitwell explained grimly.

Dear God.


AN:Kinda short, but hope you enjoyed.