Chapter Nine

Vacancy


The Winter Soldier exited the plan ramp, everyone cautiously parting from his stride. He was infamous around Hydra and not many looked him in the eye. The ghost story that stood before them in blood and flesh, well mostly flesh. He never paid mind to those below him, he had no care for power or revere. Only the mission usually stood sturdy in his mind, but that had all changed. His brain warred over two conflicting thoughts as he completed his last operation. The acceptable consistency of targets and missions against the person invading his thoughts. It had been twelve days since he had left for his mission and he still could not evict the little assassin from evading his conscience.

Making his way into the compound, he turned down the labyrinth to the debriefing room. His mission had, unsurprisingly, been a success. An easy recon to Egypt for a few missiles to add to the armory filled with weapons of mass destruction. Ghost usually did not like to mull on the details of Hydra but the sheer number of artillery owned by the organization was excessive to say the least. He understood a war was coming, feeling the precipice of battle on the horizon. It had been six years since he woke from the ice or so he thought, and he had been in constant work preparing. The tension that now filled the air could only mean that the day was coming. Soon.

He turned in the dark room, finding only the leader with his nicely pressed gray suit and glasses riding down his nose as he read a ledger in his hand. The crisp paper was drenched in red writing, many items highlighted and drawn. Ghost was too far to read it but it looked important and secretive. The leader looked up to see him standing in front of the chair. The golden-haired man knew better than be surprised of the sudden appearance of his greatest agent. He even knew better than offering a seat to the stoic soldier. Placing the paper face down away from prying eyes, he slowly clasped his hands in front of his face, resting his chin upon the knuckles.

"Mission report."

The Winter Soldier instantly replied. "Mission success. All missiles obtained and waiting for transport."

The leader unclasped his hands slowly and leaned back in his chair. "Very good." He looked to the Winter Soldier levelly and contemplated about what he wanted next. Ghost watched him carefully, gauging his superior's facial language. He was hiding something. The hidden smirk laying over his teeth said a bigger story than the man itself. Normally, Ghost would never think twice about this concealed secret but something itched this new cognizant side of him. Burying it deep within, he waited for the leader to continue. Apparently coming to a decision, the elder man sat up. "Our plan is on the ending phases. Soon, Hydra will announce itself to the world in the most brilliant of ways. Until that moment, I have no use of you. Conserve your energy and don't get hurt. The pivotal time is coming for us to act." The Winter Soldier nodded once severely. "Dismissed." The dark mercenary turned to the exit, disappearing. The rustling of the crisp page the last noise to exit the room.

Now, he was able to do what he wanted when he first entered the compound. He strode with purpose towards the one place he knew by heart. Workers and random agents jumped away from his imposing gait. Down the maze of hallways he continued. The random paths no longer a mystery to him. Past the gym, where her sweat melded into the mats. Beyond the range, where her first bullet had not even hit the target but the wall behind it. Finally, to the large metal door that held the only single room in the entire compound. Once a small storage closet, now it accommodated the only female in Hydra's compound. He grasped the knob and pulled it to reveal a pristine room. All the item untouched. Looking around curiously, he surveyed the room. She was supposed to return two days after her mission and yet the room looked like it hadn't been occupied in two weeks. The blankets on the cot, flat and unused. The desk had a sheen of dust covering the surface and the dog-eared dictionary he had given her laying squarely in the corner. He breathed in the air, only receiving stale air and none of her scent. His eyebrows furrowed. It was possible that she was sent on another mission, with the upcoming war, but it seemed highly unlikely that she would sleep somewhere other than her bunk.

He turned towards the door to leave, but something caught his sharp eye. There were fingerprints lightly cast upon on of the drawers of the desk. It's outline shinier than the dusty surface. He carefully pried open the metal drawer finding stacks of folded papers at the bottom. Curious, he picked one at the top and opened it. The top read to Mara and the bottom signed Rumlow. Something wicked seized his heart as he began to read the note. He felt no guilt or shame reading these. As a team they were to share all information with each other and as a fellow teammate of Valkyrie, he had as much right to read these than Mara. He quickly skimmed the message to find it was only of concern. Apparently, from these notes, Rumlow hadn't seen nor heard from the black-haired assassin since they got back from their mission. Ghost didn't like the sound of that but from the stack of letters collecting in the drawer, he wrote to her often and placed them in here for her to return. The large quantity could only mean there was no reply. The silent man returned the notes to the desk and closed the drawer. His thoughts were beginning to muddle within his brain creating a cacophony even he couldn't understand. He couldn't trust anyone so, he did what he did best and buried his worry and concern. He marched straight to the gym and beat the punching bag until it bled sand.

A week passed and there was still no word on the female agent. Ghost began to worry that Hydra had uncovered their tryst. The simple kiss that was even more dangerous than themselves. He wondered if they would be informed of her departure. A teammate short, Valkyrie still practiced daily as if she had never existed. They were discombobulated and sloppy without the small woman. A Winter Soldier not at the optimum. The only one even portraying concern over the missing link was Rumlow. His face creased in constant worry and anxiety, but like the others, never said a word. Agents of Hydra knew better than voice distress when concerned about others. Members flitted through the organization like the wind. One day there, the other day not, either disposed or killed in action. After awhile, they learned to stop asking which.

Ghost refused to think she was dead. Of all the places she could be, death was not an option. He wanted to believe in her, believe in her will to fight, but after days started to pass more frequently in her absence, he began to prepare himself for another loss. It was less helpful that he was sitting around unused. Unable to keep his mind busy, he trained throughly, but this meant little to his body. He was already at the peak of fitness both genetically and physically, and there was near nothing to improve. Once he was finally out of people to spar or beat his knuckle to a bloody mess, he went to the range. Firing round upon rounds into the dark silhouette did not quiet the storm brewing. Everything he did reminded him of her. How she used to concentrate when she shot, tiny furrows creased under her brows. How she would choose the biggest gun they had, to see if she could handle it this week. If she was truly gone, then she would be one of the few that would be harder to erase from the crevices of his mind.


Rumlow trotted his way down the hallways. Life had been good as of late. His covert missions with Captain America and team Stryker have been successful and the poor superhero had not the slightest idea. He almost felt bad for the guy, he was a good soldier and man in general. It was just a shame he fought so passionately for the enemy and served as Fury's personal lap dog. Everyone knew the Cap was stuck in his ways and converting him would be a lost and a dangerous. After all, he did almost destroy the whole organization in the forties. There's no coming back from that.

Today had been nice and restful, a gift from the superiors for his excellent work. He was planning on hanging out with the team, but it wasn't really the same anymore. He was with Stryker constantly and some of the men weren't as high in clearance so he had to watch what he said making it much less relaxing. Team Valkyrie wasn't the same anymore without the spitfire known as Mara. Sure, there was Ogma, the big oaf, but he was vain and arrogant. Rumlow could only take him in small spurts without wanting to strangle his thick neck. Then, Winter Soldier who would make serial killers look charming and statues loquacious. The only thing that kept them together was the woman with wit matching his own and her ability to make a conversation interesting for anyone. She could talk to a group including a Buddhist monk, an artist, and a prison guard, and make them all talk as if they'd been friends forever after a few minutes. However kind she was though, Mara could be just as deadly. Rumlow smiled at the thought. If it weren't for the strict rule of fraternizing within the organization, he was sure he would have tried to snag her for himself. She was a rare one indeed.

This brought him to his current concern. Where had Hydra's desert rose run off to? He hadn't seen her in close to three and a half weeks and received no replies to his letters. He checked her room everyday to see if she would be sitting there, palming through a new book she found. Everyday he was disappointed with emptiness. He was beginning to get worried, afraid she had fallen like many of his comrades before, but Ogma, her partner during the mission before she disappeared, was standing in the compound in flesh and blood. There was no way that Mara would go down before the lumbering ogre. Hydra was cloaked in secrets so she might be undercover, her whereabouts not to be revealed in fear that she would be uncovered accidentally by their own people. Just safety measure after safety measure.

The tall muscular man turned into the office of the superior. He had been called upon by the leader for something related to Valkyrie. He hoped it would be about his missing teammate or a new mission, but refused to hold his breath. He entered the nice round office sharply and stood at attention. The leader looked over his glasses and waved his hand haphazardly. Rumlow relaxed into a casual lean against the wall and waited for the nicely dressed man to speak.

"Rumlow, do you know what happens to those who don't follow the rules?" The question floated in the air as Rumlow's stomach dropped. This was not the conversation he expected. Thinking over everything he had done in the last three months, and was sure he had done everything right. He was meticulous.

"Yes, sir. Punishment or execution." He answered as calmly a his voice would let him.

"Yes. Exactly." The older man rose from his chair to stand in front of the agent. "Insubordination will not be tolerated, correct?" Rumlow was confused by these questions but answered a sure yes. "Wonderful. Well, I have one of our own that had to be taught a lesson. I need them brought to my office immediately. Go down to the basement and grab them for me. If they get too unstable leave them there and report back to me, but they should be subdued by this time." He nodded to one of the guards outside his door. "Take Torke with you. Power in numbers. Dismissed."

The agent nodded and left to exit. He glanced at the young guard and went on his way towards the lower levels. The basement was forty feet in the ground and only accessible by elevator that was biometrically tuned to each passenger. If you were not allowed in the lower levels, you were not going to the lower levels. Rumlow entered the elevator with the guard close behind. He pushed the silver button with a simple P in red before the elevator dinged at them. A proper woman's voice echoed within the small compartment.

"Rumlow, Brock does not have clearance for Prison level." The tall agent stared at the speaker bewildered. Since when was he not allowed in the basement? He was clearance eight for god sakes. He was about to question the elevator before the guard behind him interrupted.

"Override. Torke, Charles." Rumlow stared at the young man absolutely perplexed. This guy could not have clearance over four and yet could override the system to let him, a level eight clearance, down in the basement. Something felt odd and Rumlow didn't like it.

"Override complete." The sickly sweet voice said as the elevator began to shudder down the long shaft. Rumlow now felt the tension in the air, whatever resided in the basement was for him and only him to see. The leader was going to make a point. The large metal doors finally opened to reveal the large expansive space known as the Shadow Prison. Hydra had developed a way to keep prisoners in a large space but also solitary. Large metal cast cages stood about ten feet from each other but each cast it's own light. Outside the small lit circles stood darkness blacker than night. Fixtures attached to the ceiling sent high density waves that acted as a buffer around each containment cage. The strength of the sound radiated toward the ground, stopping all noise from one quadrant to the other. In all, making soundproof barriers that are permeable by humans and objects.

The two Hydra agents continued down the long dark hallway. Few of the cells held anyone of importance. A few prisoners here and there, all miserably stranded in their cages. Rumlow didn't come down here often just because of the hopeless morose atmosphere. There was no life here, only strife. Down the long path they continued until soon there was nothing but empty cages lining each side. The hollowness saturating the air. Torke trotted on until the elevator was a mere blip in the past. Finally, they reached the last cage tucked far away in the back. Torke blocked the view of who this mysterious person could be but Rumlow couldn't help but peek around in curiosity. What he saw nearly broke his stride.

There, broken and silent, kneeled the woman. The spitfire that ravaged people whole. Her head bent low and dark greased locks covering her doll face. She looked positively frail and small on her knees. Her forearms covered in dried blood that originated from the crook of her elbow, like an IV had been viciously ripped from her arms. Her skin looked faded and dull covered with scrapes and bruises, not the vibrant cream it usually was. He almost uttered her name in surprise before checking himself and remaining quiet. Torke came to a stop by her cell at attention and nodded toward the elder agent. Rumlow stepped forward and called her.

"Runt?" His voice cracked painfully as he tried to reach out to his teammate. The girl never moved from her kneeling position. Her body rocking back and forth slowly.

Torke shook his head and moved Rumlow away from the bars. The young soldier stood in front of the bars and grasped his gun between his gloved hands. Taking the butt of it, he tapped twice upon the black bars. As the iron vibrated loudly, his bedraggled teammate rose from her knees, no longer graceful but mechanical. She walked silently to the pair, face still concealed from view. Torke grabbed the bar, letting the biometric reader recognize his command. The bars faded and nothing stood between the three. Rumlow went to touch her but the younger soldier stopped him with a shaking head. Shock was still running wild with in his body. Torke grabbed Mara's upper arm and guided her back to the elevator. She went without a fight, pacing beside him with her necked arched towards the ground.

The older operative followed silently, watching this scene unfold in front of him. What on earth had happened? The leader had painfully made his point clear but for what purpose? Runt must have done something, but Rumlow could not see how. The girl was undoubtably loyal to Hydra from day one. Racking his brain proved useless, he was going to have to figure it out and he had a feeling the leader would see to it that he knew what she had done. A scare tactic that was working exceedingly well. Showing the consequences before the betrayal.

They continued down the dark hallway and boarded the bright elevator. The quiet that perforated the claustrophobic elevator almost made Rumlow, a seasoned agent, fidget nervously. The elevator climbed slowly and he snuck glances at her defeated form. He couldn't see her face and that was all he wanted. He couldn't believe that the spark was gone from those caramel irises, her smiling face wouldn't greet him. He didn't want to believe his organization had done this to one of their best. The elevator dinged loudly but the woman didn't even flinch. It was as if she was deaf to all around her, consumed by her mind. The more Rumlow was around her the more uncomfortable he felt. He quietly prayed for it to end, for this to be some sick joke everyone was playing on him.

They approached the superior's office, entering without permission. The leader looked up briskly and stood while taking off his glasses. "Very good." He slowly made his way around the desk. Circling like a vulture about to consume her flesh, he continued to observe her. "I suspect you noticed some differences in our Mara." The leader glanced at the agent, as if daring him to question his motives. Rumlow remained silent. "You see, I gave her everything. Mercy, training, love. Most important, family. Yet, with all the freedom and direction we gave her, she had the gaul to defy my orders." The older gentleman came to a stop infront of her. "Maybe it was too much freedom." He shrugged his shoulders sat on the edge of the desk. The small assassin continued to stand, unfaltering.

Rumlow shifted between his feet, growing more and more uncomfortable with the leader's imposing glare and the lifeless form standing in the middle of the room. The golden haired man nodded for Torke to approach. The young soldier did so stiffly.

"Torke, remove her ear pieces." Rumlow looked to the both confused. Earpieces? The leader once again continued. "Do you know what makes a perfect soldier?" Rumlow remained stock still, unable to move. He had never been so nervous in his life. "Silence. Obedience. Strength. Back in the forties, Hydra had perfected this. Doctor Zola's experiments proved to be a resounding success as you can see from our own Winter Soldier. You need to invade the mind, take control. Zola's solution was brainwashing. A rudimentary answer comparative to modern day technology, but a breakthrough then. As the years continued, we got stronger and smarter. Now we use an operation called phobic teaching, using the fears of a person to shape their psyche. It may be a militaristic way of operant learning but we have polished it to perfection."

Torke moved to the side of Runt's face, lifting her hair out of the way. Rumlow spotted oddly shaped metallic pieces in her ear, and blood dried on her neck. The young guard placed a hand at the back of her ear and started unscrewing a small piece. Removing the shining item from her ear, Rumlow saw a hole left in its wake. They had drilled into the shell of her ear and secured the earpiece that he could only assume blocked noise from entering the ear canal. The blood must be from her trying to rip out the pieces. Shocked, he wondered why they would go to the extent of securing noise cancellers. He suppressed a shudder as he thought was why she wouldn't answer, she couldn't hear him.

The leader called back his attention. "Hers were fairly easy." He nodded to her still form. "Silence. The shadows that consumed her mind after the wipe left her unable to handle solitary confinement. Her form of relief coming from singing and humming. So, when she first resisted our operations, we took that away from her too. The earpieces were specifically made for her. Completely soundproof. Now she is wholly yielding to our commands." From his vest pocket, he pulled out a tiny yellow pill. "This is a low dose of arsenic. Enough to make her violently sick but not enough to kill her." Rumlow watched carefully as the leader approached the only female. "Agent Mara. Attention." Robotically, she straightened dramatically and raised her head.

For the first time, Rumlow saw her face and almost reeled backwards. Her pale face was angular with starvation. Dark maroon streaks ran from her ears to her cheekbones and finally to her neck, making her look like a strange bloody warrior. All this was startling, but none so much as her eyes. Vacancy inhabited them. There was no life or emotion showing through. The caramel color faded to a dark brown almost black color. Her pupils were dilated largely giving her an even more gaunt look. It was as if he was staring into the reaper's own eyes, a complete void of recognition or the woman she used to be. She stared unflinchingly at the leader, listening intently. The elder man held out a flat palm with the tiny pill nestled between the folds of his hand. "Take it." Immediately, she grabbed the pill and swallowed it. Rumlow stared horrified. She had willingly taken poison and did not even think twice. She had become the killing machine the leader wanted; obedient, silent. The agent tried to swallow the fear that threatened to crawl out from his throat. He was seeing Hydra's true nature for the first time, and he feared he might just be staring at his future. Mara was second best in Hydra and they experimented and moulded her into the robotic soldier standing in the office with him. What would stop them from doing the same to anyone else? Rumlow started to see a trend with the best. All brainwashed and obedient, but in different ways. The Winter Soldier had been created out of curiosity and the need for a grand mercenary. Runt now changed for whatever problem she had caused. Both losing control of their own bodies and becoming a vessel to Hydra's plans.

The leader looked to the still operative and sat in the edge of the desk. "She is completely under my will and command." He pointed to her harshly. "This is what happens when you fail me. Do not fail me." Rumlow nodded once sharply, fear spreading to his limbs. "Very well. Take her to train and get some food in her. I need her back into fighting condition no matter how many hours of training it takes." He returned to his desk and started rifling through some papers. "You are dismissed." The agent turned quickly to exit, trying to escape the room suffocating him. Mara followed behind him, cloudy eyed. As he entered the hallway, he turned to look at her again.

"Runt?" No response. Rumlow tried snapping his fingers. Maybe he could wake her up from this nightmare. Nothing. "What did they do to you?" A rhetorical question that bounced off the hollow hallway. She stood straight, awaiting orders, until her body began to shake. Her face remained placid as she began to convulse. Bending over, she vomited acid. Her stomach was completely empty so all that left her body was bile and Rumlow stepped back in surprise before seeing the tiny yellow pill, half digested. As she finished retching, she returned to her upright position and awaited orders once more. The tall man did not know how to react and silently pointed toward the direction of the gym. Mara marched quickly in the direction and Rumlow stared after her, truly scared for the first time in a long time.


The sound of punches echoed in the empty gym. The Winter Soldier was doing what he had been doing for the past three weeks. Training harder and longer than before. Anything to get his mind off the thoughts that plagued his mind. They were distracting and unnecessary, causing unneeded worry for his single-tracked mind. He continued to hit the punching bag forcefully, the hard tarp material slowly ripping at the seams. This would be the fourth bag he had destroyed in a week. The compound was slowly running out of inventory and Ghost didn't know what he would do when the day came and there was no more equipment to occupy his mind. His fleshed hand was battered pretty badly but he usually healed fast, plus with his pain tolerance, he couldn't be bothered with the slight sting after each strike against the hard sand.

He had been in the gym for about twenty minutes when the doors opened to reveal a figure. In the darkness of the room, he could only see the outline of a feminine stature and its rigid posture. Quickly, he stopped his exercise and stood still, trying to recognize the person. Hope filled his body, but soon disappeared when he noticed subtle differences that only disproved it wasn't her. It wasn't the woman who consumed his mind. Too skinny. Too upright. Too silent. He silently stood observing the distant figure before turning to resume beating a bag to a pulp.

Getting about three punches in, he was interrupted once again by the door, this time it was someone he knew. Rumlow was someone Winter Soldier could pick from a crowd easily. He was a good comrade and teammate. The new arrival turned to the shrouded woman and spoke quietly to her before pacing toward Ghost. Rumlow's face became clearer as he closed the distance between them, the girl following behind. Ghost was about to nod a greeting but was stopped when he saw his comrade's expression. Fear and confusion pervaded his creased face, causing the mercenary's muscles to coil instinctively.

Rumlow stopped about ten feet away from the Winter Soldier before allowing the mysterious woman to catch up. As she continued to come closer, he started to see why there was so much tension in the air. His heart skipped a beat. It was her. Before him in flesh and blood was the woman that devoured his attention. He started to surge forward, to see if his eyes were playing tricks on him, to see if it was truly her. The light danced across her skin and her oiled hair. She was much skinnier and smaller than remembered, but it didn't matter. She was back.

She lifted her head to meet his gaze and he stopped mid-step. There was something terribly wrong. It was her, he was sure of it, but her face and eyes. It was if staring into his own reflection. The shadows that lay waste to her mind now reflected through the glassy orbs and no longer permeated the life that once held true. They were soldier eyes, his own.

Standing a distance away, Ghost looked to Rumlow for answers. The tan man refused to meet his gaze, instead stared at the woman known as Mara.

"Boss says that training is to resume immediately." he shifted between his feet, a sign of uncomfortability. "Let's start with you two." Rumlow walked to the side, turning on the rest of the lights. The newfound brightness illuminated the woman in front of him. He could see all the scars and bruises that splashed across her skin, the dark red streaks. Rage threatened to take over as he saw the damage she was inflicted. He silently wondered what happened to her and where she had been.

Mara walked to the mat in the middle of the gym, waiting for him to do the same. His muscles moved before his brain and positioned him adjacent from her. He searched her oval face, waiting for her to come back. Vacant eyes only replied. Rumlow returned to the mat.

"Ready?" Ghost nodded as Mara remained still. The tan agent frowned but continued. "Go."

The Winter Soldier docked his feet in a sturdy fighting stance. The dark haired woman didn't move. He calculated an attack, something that would get her down easily and relatively pain free. Springing forward, he went to grapple her from the waist, but she moved quickly away, deflecting his metal arm. He tried again but time after time she evaded his grasp with a speed he never knew she possessed. Frustrated, he went for a right hook and was surprised when she grabbed it easily and sent him to the ground with a simple pull. This was not how she fought, her usually teasing fighting style was lost to this new efficient assault. She barely moved a muscle yet was winning this spar. Getting angrier, he decided it was time to screw going easy but he didn't want to hurt her even more than she currently was. Confliction warred within his mind as he leaped at her, grabbing a fist full of her shirt. He pulled her down in a roll and straddled on top of her, grabbing one wrist in his grasp.

She looked at him, fully complacent and impassive. There was no determination, no competition. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly and she reached up with her free hand to the side of his mechanical arm. Sliding her fingernails underneath one of plates, she ripped it out, exposing the circuitry. Foreseeing the future, he tried to move out of her range but she pulled out the wires within seconds. Ghost felt his arm go limp and immobile. She had actually disarmed him, no normal human could completely pry out a metal plate. There was something different physically, not just mentally. Mara dropped the wires on the ground as he got to his feet again, and crouched in a low kneel. He ran towards her trying to get the upper hand again, and she swiped her leg to trip him. Jumping in time, he soared over her. She powered her hands up to grab his ankles and stood. This left his ankles higher than the rest of his upper body and he found himself face down in the mats. The little killer quickly positioned herself on his back and grabbed his hair within her thin digits. She retched his head backwards and grasped his neck with her other hand. He was powerless in her hold, one less arm and a death hold on his throat proved this. Finding himself replaying all the times he lost to her, it had never been like this. They fought with respect for each other. This was merciless and efficient as if he was truly her target. If he had been, right now he would be dead.

She got up from his back, slowly releasing his hair. Stalking to the side of the mat, she waited for the next round. The Winter Soldier sat up. Looking to her, he made a decision. This was not Mara. Mara was dead. What stood before him was a husk of her skin filled with poison. She was what is left of the woman with fire in her eyes and a laugh in her smile. She was a fake, a fraud. He rose from the ground and prepared himself. He would not lose to an imposter, and most of all, he would not lose her. He'd find a way. A way to bring her back from the dead. He had to try.


Hello loves! I can't believe how long it's been! I'm so sorry but it's been ridiculous over here and my birthday was yesterday! So as a belated birthday gift, I'm giving you all another chapter! Yay! So I hopefully got across what I wanted without too much confusion. I hope everyone is well! Thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows! You each are dear to my heart!