WASHINGTON, D.C. - NATASHA'S APARTMENT
Sam drops himself down on Natasha's couch, exhausted. "He said they strapped him to a table so Tony could hit him with an EMP. Unreal." He rubs his face as Natasha hands him a glass of ice water. "Thanks." She sits down in a nearby chair, "Why?"
"He's trying to figure out a way to disable the metal arm, evidently Ross wants the Soldier to be at the trial, and Tony thinks he'll get loose and kill people."
Natasha shrugs. "Well..."
Sam frowns at her.
"Barnes said he wants to die, even if we get him out. He agreed to be quiet at the trial. When I said you needed more info on him, he said to 'Try this combination, three-eight-niner-five dash seven-seven-zero-eight, and to be careful'". Sam downs half the glass of water and shrugs.
Natasha gets a blank look as she thinks about the numbers. A 'combination' could mean many things, but coming from the Soldier and assuming he's using an old code word, it would mean one thing is really two. Like old times, she thinks and huffs, remembering other missions, other code words. Try the easy way first, 3895 and dash 7708. She reaches for her laptop and starts typing.
"He was free, not in handcuffs or anything, at least while I was there. There was a toilet but no bed." Sam shifts, thinking. "He said the doctor put an IV in his hand, but he tore it out after Tony left." Sam finishes his drink and gets up to take the glass to the kitchen. "I didn't have time to find out what happened to the IV and the bed."
"Got it."
Sam frowns and grins at her. "What? Damn, girl that was fast. What does it mean?"
"Latitude and longitude, for a bank here in Washington."
Sam's eyebrows go up. "Really? Why a bank?"
She quirks an eyebrow at him. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out."
Sam looks at her hopefully, eyebrows raised.
"Alright, but you have to do what I say. And stop with the puppy dog eyes." She glares but he grins back, just as his phone buzzes. "It's Tony." He shrugs and accepts the call. "Hey Tony."
Natasha watches his face as he listens, his expression changing from questioning, to shocked, to angry. "What!" His expression calms. "Ok, thanks Tony. Bye." He ends the call and tosses his phone on the table.
It's Natasha's turn to raise her eyebrows questioningly.
"Well, Tony said that after I left Barnes today, the guards tried to sedate him, evidently to tie him back down on a bed, but he beat them unconscious and then tried to kill himself."
Natasha stares at him. "He's not dead?"
"No, evidently he locked his metal hand on his throat and passed out, but a guard used a taser to shut down his arm, and loosened his fingers enough to pull his hand off."
"Where is he now?"
"He's still at the D.C. jail, but they're going to move him to the courthouse jail tomorrow. They delayed the trial 'till he recovers."
WASHINGTON, D.C. - D.C. COURTHOUSE BASEMENT
Wake up. Become aware of muted sounds. Machinery humming, low and steady. Voices, but can't make out words. Uncomfortable, crack open eyes sticky with sleep. Move arm to rub your eyes but it jerks and stops. Restrained. Grimace. Of course. Try to focus on surroundings. Frown. You're sitting up. In a chair? Throat hurts. Remember attacking guards, clamping your metal hand on your throat. What happened? How did they open my hand? Try swallowing, it hurts, a lot. Sigh. They will never let me go.
A quick picture in your head, remember hanging yourself with your chain in a small, dark, dirty cell. Being slapped awake, Zola's face over you, smiling. Revulsion. They never allowed it. I don't have permission to end myself. No escape. Take deep breaths to calm surging feelings of panic, despair…
Must be calm, must be calm…slow breathing, slow heartbeat. Move again to find restraint points. Your legs are bound to the chair legs, feet on the floor. There are metal bands over your upper and lower arms. Metal clamps over your shoulders. Notice you're wearing the gray striped prison jumper. Lift your head and look around, see close walls with large windows. Not the jail, what is this? The space with the chair is inside a larger room, with many hallways branching off. Men in work overalls walk back and forth. No one is obviously watching you.
Jerk at the sound of a motor starting, it sits and idles for awhile, hear gears grinding and the loud beeping of a large vehicle going in reverse. Look out the windows and watch for it. A forklift comes around a corner. It slowly moves right up to the windows and goes past. The driver glances over you like he's checking cargo. Listen to the machine maneuver behind you. Feel everything jerk upwards - This is loose! The containment cell lifts about a foot off the floor, then moves forward, taking you down one of the hallways, toward a cargo elevator.
Feelings of panic and despair return, all the usual how, where and why questions running through your head, but the one that keeps blaring like a megaphone in your brain is HYDRA, they're taking me back. It nestles in your stomach, a little ball of fear. You can't stop shaking.
WASHINGTON, D.C. - SECRETARY OF STATE'S OFFICE
"Tony, this is basically a machine we're dealing with. Do you think the Winter Soldier has a conscience? Actually feels anything at all?" Ross comes around his desk to get closer to Tony. "He's proven over and over that he has no problem killing anyone. All he's done since he was captured is try to kill whoever he can reach. Even you." He leans forward a little to emphasize his next words. "The Soldier is HYDRA, a killer, a murderer. I don't understand, Tony, why don't you want him to go to trial?"
Tony shows a tiny smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I don't understand why you would use him to kill a room full of innocent people." At Ross's outraged expression, before he can say anything, Tony keeps going. "You're going to use him just as he was designed. To kill. You're his handler now, and people are going die."
"I'm not the one who let him loose in the jail." Ross pointedly stares at Tony. "He hurt how many guards?"
Tony rubs his face and stands up. It was lucky that the Soldier hadn't killed them all. Strange, really. The Soldier has never left anyone alive. Except Natasha. But. "Ross, that proves it. If he's triggered or set off in that courtroom, he's going to free himself and start killing. And when he runs out of people to kill, he tries to kill himself! If that guard hadn't used his taser to short out the arm, he would be dead, and your show trial wouldn't be happening."
Ross glares at Tony. "Tony, Tony. He's not going to kill anyone. We can restrain him in the courtroom. Don't worry about him." Ross sits on the edge of his desk and rubs his leg in frustration. "This is why we need this treaty. You know this, you signed them." Tony stares at Ross, amazed. Is he blind?
Ross continues. "The Alliance is a good thing. You and your Avengers can continue your good work, with the support of every country who signs. Convicting the Winter Soldier is the first step to getting super-killers like him off the streets, not only in America but in every country." He pauses, watching Tony.
"We had to push back the start date of the trial because the Soldier injured himself." Ross continues with a lighter voice and a hopeful look on his face. "He's so unstable, the faster we get through this the better, right?"
Tony just stares at him. "Don't you hear what you're saying? 'Unstable' my ass! 'Homicidal maniac' is just the tip of this insane iceberg." Tony stands and walks to the wall and back, frustrated. "I can't fully disable that metal arm without major surgery and more time. Ross, come on, leave him in a cell and put a camera on him!
Ross looks at him and sighs, frustrated. Threatening Tony isn't going to work like it did on the lawyer. "Ok. Come with me and see the containment cell. You'll like it, it's a design even you will appreciate." Ross stands and holds out his arm, motioning Tony out the door.
WASHINGTON, D.C. - THE IDEAL FEDERAL SAVINGS BANK
Natasha drives past the bank at the coordinates Barnes had given her. It was so early, it would be dark for hours yet. She parks a few blocks away. "I wish Barnes hadn't trashed my wings, this would go a lot faster." Sam says, his voice low.
"Stop whining" Natasha smiles as she reaches over and gets a green bag out of the back seat and removes a night vision headset. "You know how to use these?" Sam just nods and puts it on. When it powers up, the world isn't dark anymore, every detail glows different shades of bright green. Then Natasha pulls a Steyr SPP and a two loaded magazines out of the bag and holds them out to him. Sam grins. "What else do you have in your magic bag?" he jokes.
She smiles. "You take the left, and we'll meet in the alley by the service door." Natasha says quietly as she puts on her own headset and smirks at him. He nods, slams in a mag and chambers a round, immediately sliding into recon mode.
They meet again a little over an hour later, having seen nothing. They don't need to speak, Sam watches the alley, left, right and up, while Natasha picks the lock on the back door.
Click. Sam looks over and Natasha signals him to come in. He checks up and down the alley one more time and follows her inside, quietly closing the door. They hug the wall and go the length of the doorless hallway. The solid darkness gives way to some light, the large windows in the lobby are letting in the light from the street. They split up and search every room on that level, finding nothing but offices and storage closets. They find the same on the second floor. The only area left to search is the vault.
The vault is downstairs, only accessible by using an elevator, which is blocked by an 'Out of Order' sign. They go around it and push the button, and the doors open. Natasha looks at Sam and shrugs. "Here goes nothing." They ride it down and the doors open onto a dark space. No sounds, except the hum of the climate control. They enter tactically, weapons ready. They move a few feet before encountering a door made of bars, but it swings open when Sam puts a hand on it. Natasha moves past him into the main vault and stops. "Bozhe moi" she whispers.
Sam moves up to her to see what she's looking at. The amplified light through his goggles shows a chair, reclining under a large circular metal frame. The chair is surrounded by machines and computers. Sam stares. "This must be the chair Barnes told us about." The machine is hard to look away from, sitting there silent and still, ominous in the dark room.
Natasha moves to one of the computers and turns it on, removing her goggles. As she types, Sam uses the increased light to look around the room, which, aside from the chair and some computers, is a typical bank vault. The walls glitter with bright brass safety deposit box doors, the open ones making irregular black holes in the wall.
Sam checks behind them, out through the inner doorway, and sees a regular door on the left side he hadn't noticed on the way in. It's inside the main heavy door but outside the vault. He tries the handle and it opens easily. Holding the Steyr in low ready position, he uses his hip to slam the door open all the way and advances slowly into the dark room.
It smells. By the white tile everywhere, this was once a bathroom, but now it's more like a laboratory. But it's a lab straight out of Frankenstein. There's a metal table on one side of the room, frayed restraint straps hanging down, with used rubber gloves, lumps of wet, dirty clothing and towels piled on it. Above it, a large assembly of lights hangs from the ceiling above the table, an electrical outlet hanging from it. Orange air hoses curl on the floor next to a tan air compressor.
Trash, used syringes and trails of dirt (blood?) circle the shower drains. Two tall red automotive tool boxes line the walls behind the table, clear tubes curling out of one of the open drawers. But the centerpiece is a tall cylindrical metal and glass container, covered with twisting black power cables and hoses. The door is cracked open, and the strange electrical and human stench from it is overpowering. He has to take small breaths through his mouth to keep from gagging.
He backs out and returns to the vault, where Natasha's still copying files to a thumb drive. "Nat, you should see this, but hold your breath." She watches the screen for a minute and glances at him. "Lead the way."
She puts her goggles back on and follows him back into the Frankenstein lab and sees the metal and glass tube. "A cryostasis chamber." She sees Sam's shocked expression even behind the goggles. "That explains why he's still so young."
"He was telling the truth, he really was frozen. Oh man, but how? It's not possible to freeze someone, and still be alive after, right?"
Natasha looks into some of the drawers carefully. "Evidently they used some specific drugs, and a procedure to freeze and thaw him that worked, plus he has some kind of super soldier serum."
"Like Steve." Natasha hums in response as she explores the rest of the lab. He stares at the tube, the goggles making everything nightmarish shades of green. Shiver. Creepy. And I thought the chair was scary.
"I guess when the Soldier was out of the freezer, they still kept him in here." she says, pointing to a cage against the back wall, with dirty blankets scattered inside.
Sam walks around the chamber to look and is hit with a wave of revulsion and anger. There was a chain hanging from a hook in the wall above the cage, and a bucket in the corner. "What did they do to him? Damn. This is beyond torture, Nat..."
Natasha doesn't say anything, just turns back into the vault to check the computer download. Sam follows, closing the lab door behind him, mostly to keep the stench from getting out. His mind is still spinning with the new, horrible information.
Twenty more minutes on the download. She opens files to see how deep she can get into the secure section. "Lets see what this security file shows, shall we? It's dated the day of the helicarrier fight."
They both remove their night vision goggles as Natasha makes the playback fill the screen. It shows a view of the vault and the chair from above the door. There's no one in the chair, only technicians in white lab coats working at the computers, and busy with something by the tool bins. It has sound, but no one is speaking. The work continues for a few minutes, until a man comes in and says "He's coming, get ready."
From the left side of the screen, a group of men in dark military-style uniforms enters, and between them being half carried and half dragged into the room, is the Soldier. He's shirtless, in dark pants with no shoes, and he behaves like he's been drugged. He's struggling, trying to stop, but so weakly he really can't do anything but use his body weight to make the guards have trouble going in a straight line. The sounds are the dull thumps and squeaks of boots on the floor, and the guards cursing. The technicians have all backed up, as far away as they can get, watching, standing still and silent.
The guards force the weakened Soldier down into the chair and hold him until a tech hurries over with a syringe and injects something into the Soldier's arm. After a minute he must relax, because the guards let him go and stand back. The Soldier is free, but he isn't resisting anymore. Some techs roll a table close to the Soldier's chair and nervously begin repairs on the metal arm. The guards stand in a loose circle with weapons ready.
The techs work, the Soldier ignores them, he just stares across the room, unmoving until wham! the Soldier suddenly hits a tech who slams into the table and they both fly across the room. The guards snap their weapons up and step closer. The Soldier doesn't stand up, just sits there with his chest and arm muscles tensed up, like he could attack any second. The techs pick themselves up but don't approach him.
A few minutes go by, with no change, the Soldier just sits there as the techs gather their tools off the floor and mumble, so Natasha fast forwards. She hits play again when more people come in, but their backs are to the camera so their identities are unknown. The first one, a tall blonde-haired man in a suit, motions to the guards to stand down as he walks to the Soldier and stands in front of him.
The techs and other men gather around the seated Soldier. The blonde says "Mission report." No reaction, the Soldier has a thousand-yard stare. "Mission report, now." Still no reaction. The blonde bends down and suddenly backhands the Soldier hard in the face, making his whole torso swing to his right, his hair flying.
As the blonde man watches him, the Soldier settles, looking off the the side, and says softly "The man on the bridge…who was he?" The blonde says "You met him earlier this week on another assignment."
The Soldier sits, unblinking. "I knew him." The blonde pulls a stool over and sits down. "Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning we're gonna give it a push. But, if you don't do your part, I can't do mine, and HYDRA can't give the world the freedom it deserves."
But it's like the Soldier can't let this drop. He has to know. He says softly, "But I knew him." and his face twists in a grimace, like he knows he's going to regret this, but he needs to know.
Not taking her eyes from the screen, Natasha whispers, "He remembered Steve."
The blonde sits for a second, then stands and turns to the technicians behind him and says "Prep him."
"Pierce! That's Secretary Pierce! He was the Soldier's handler? We have to show this to Tony! To the court!" Sam tries not to shout.
"And that's Rumlow," Natasha says softly. Both of them now knew that he had been HYDRA while on Steve's STRIKE team, but it made the hurt and betrayal even worse to realize that he had known about Barnes the whole time. His body hasn't been found yet, she thinks.
One of the techs replies anxiously "He's been out of cryo-freeze too long." Pierce turns and barks "Then wipe him and start over."
Pierce watches as the techs push the Soldier back into the seat and put a tooth guard in his mouth. The machine starts with a loud hum and metal clamps snap tightly over his arms, as the two halves of the halo swing down behind him. The Soldier's bare chest heaves as he hyperventilates. Sparks visibly arc and crackle inside the curved pieces as they move to clamp sharply to each side of his head, and his muscles contract violently as he screams.
Pierce turns and walks out, the others following, only Rumlow glances back at the man trapped in the chair, screaming and convulsing from the high voltage ripping through his brain.
Sam and Natasha stare at the monitor, speechless.
"We've got to get him out."
WASHINGTON, D.C. - D.C. COURTHOUSE BASEMENT
Two men stand in front of the containment cell, arguing. One with dark hair and sunglasses, the other tall with dark grey hair. Stark, Anthony aka Iron Man. Ross, Thaddeus E., Secretary of State, U.S. Why. You can hear them talking about how secure the cell is. That he can't escape, stop worrying about it. Innocent people will die. What. Ross asks if Tony wants to see just how strong the cell is, make the Soldier mad. Maintain calm, no reaction, breathe…Tony stares at you. Ross glances at Tony, and steps closer to the window.
"Soldier, do you know why you're here?" Don't look at him, don't react, breathe. "Because you failed. What. No. You had one job, and you failed. Then you lied about completing the mission." He steps right up to the glass and stares at you. Resist the urge to look at him. I did not fail. "You failed, and you lied. You failed, and you will be punished." He pauses, staring at you, holding his hands behind his back. "YOU FAILED." He shouts, striking the cell window with both hands with a loud crash.
Don't react. Breathe. But tense up, press your body against the restraints, make fists, ready to break out. Look up at Ross through your hair, look into his eyes. Natalia said I must not react, must not listen… один, два, три.… (one, two, three...)
Ross looks away and walks slowly behind the box, saying "See, Stark, he can't get out. If it could it would've broken out before now. He knows it's futile to fight." He wants to see if I can escape. "He even failed to kill himself." Ross comes back around the box and looks contemptuously down at you, smirking. Fight the anger down. Look down, punishment will follow open challenge. Breathe…
"Alright." Tony says. "But I want to be in the courtroom. No cameras. No reporters."
Ross looks at Tony for a moment, considering. "One reporter. CNN."
Tony shoots a quick glance at Ross and looks back, unfocused. "Alright, only one, but no live broadcast."
Ross looks at him with an aggravated, patient expression. "See? That wasn't so difficult." He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
Tony just stares at you.
WASHINGTON, D.C. - D.C. COURTHOUSE BASEMENT
Ross and Stark leave, the guards return and begin unrolling a black plastic tube. One of them climbs to the top of the cell with one end of it, and when he comes down without it you know it's been attached up there. The other guards fasten the other end of the hose to a machine and start it. Then they stand still and watch you. Look up to the roof and see a white mist coming down through a vent. Gas, oh no…
Push against the metal bands, take a deep breath and hold it, frantically trying to be calm, not to fight, focus on a guard as he steps up to the glass. "Don't panic," he says, nervously. "it won't hurt you."
Why is he telling me this? Stare at him, the man is braver than the others, standing so close and talking to you. Why. Watch the mist gradually fill the box and strain against the restraints, but not enough to get free. Natalia said not to fight...Chest begins to cramp, need air, no, no, hold it, no white mist… the overwhelming need to breathe grows, your brain screams NEED AIR – you have to give in but fight the urge to take a single huge breath and instead take short, quick gasps, but it's impossible to avoid sucking in the mist. The guards are watching, they're fading, no no no no not again…
Unexpectedly, you don't lose consciousness. Watch the fuzzy movements of the guards. Somehow the gas is going back up the tube, like a film rewinding. They're opening the box. I can get out…but your muscles don't answer, you can't do anything, your muscles don't want to move. Remember the feeling, but they made me wear a mask… feel the clamps loosen, feel hands on your arms, lifting… take a breath and try to fight them off, jerk the metal arm free, but then you're on the floor, dizzy…feel hands again, up, dragging… Where? Curse in Russian, your numb lips and tongue garbling the words. One of the guards laughs.
A cell, so bright…dragged to a cot and dumped on it. Still can't really move. Two guards look down at you, one smiles. "He's not so scary now, is he?" Focus on him, breaths coming faster. He's HYDRA. The other guard, the one that told you not to panic, waves a hand at the other guard and says "Hey, don't mess with him, come on." as he walks to the door. The first one stares at you, not moving, until the other one says loudly "COME ON." Then he spins and walks out, and they close and lock the door. Hear them as they go down the hall, "Are you nuts?", one says, their voices fading.
So tired, the gas... your helplessness and that HYDRA guard making you shake thinking about what could have happened. The memory of other guards, helping themselves to your body makes you angry, but you don't have the energy to sustain it.
The handlers learned to warn the guards off, because they found that no amount of punishment would stop the Soldier from killing the guards later. Sometimes he would kill a whole support team. Despite trying different techniques with the 'halo', they couldn't seem to change that reaction.
I won't forget this time. The stress fades as you relax more, you feel like you're floating, comfortable, alone, close your eyes.
WASHINGTON, D.C. - D.C. COURTHOUSE BASEMENT
Slowly come aware. Listen, hear someone breathing, pages turning. Open your eyes slowly, see the white ceiling, white walls. Sigh. Test for restraints, none. Remember the gas, nothing working, but all seems fine now. Look towards the sounds, see one wall is bars, with a guard behind a desk on the other side. Hmm. Roll over and put your feet on the floor, rub your eyes, face.
The guard watches you, gets on his handheld radio and reports that you're awake. Ignore him, walk over and use the toilet. Do some stretching exercises, a few push-ups. Hear footsteps coming closer. A little door in the barred door opens with a bang, and another guard places a foam bowl and cup on the shelf it makes.
"Eat up." Consider eating. Not being strapped down and threatened is a good thing. Take a quick inventory of your body. Feet, legs, ok. Stomach, hurts. Chest, ok. Arm, ok. Metal arm, needs maintenance. Shoulder hurts, but it always hurts. Head, hurts. Neck, throat hurts bad. Look at bowl, maybe food will help. Drugged? Eat the soup, drink the water anyway. Wish they would give you 10 times that much, but the limited food was normal. Keep my energy down, the techs said, before.
Put the empty foam things back on the door shelf. The guard takes them and closes the little door, the lock clicking into place. Lights are still on, bright in the white room. Sit on the bed crosslegged and lean against the wall. The quiet is dangerous, it makes it easy to relax, to think. The guard is still watching you. Why? Rub your neck. So they can stop me. Sit and stare across the room, eyes unfocused. I'm going to be punished for completing my missions. I do what they tell me to do. Why punish me? I didn't fail. Flash of anger at Ross. Will they give me back to HYDRA? Maybe they'll say I'm too dangerous and must not live anymore.
He hums. They'd be right.
The guard gets a call on the radio and walks down the hall, talking. Hear a slight sound, metal to metal. It's coming from the the wall behind your head. The sound again, louder, tapping mixed with longer scratching sounds. Don't react, the cameras are always watching, but listen to the letters;
– • – • – – • – – • • • – • • – – • – – – • – CQ DE NAYK SEEKING YOU THIS IS SPIDER – Natalia! Her code name in Russian, I remember! As if it could be anyone else here, now. Duck your head to hide a quick grin.
Excited, but not showing it, move casually to put your metal hand behind your back, tap and drag •–• R (ROGER, RECEIVING) on the wall.
• • • – • – – • • – • • • STATUS
– – • • • – – • • GUD GOOD
• – – • – – • • – • • • • • • – – • • WNTE&E? WANT ESCAPE AND EVASION?
Drag tap – • N NO
– • – • • • • – • • • – • CSDR CONSIDER There's a pause, then
– – • • • • – • • MECTИ Russian code, he realizes. REVENGE
I don't want to escape, I told her already. But, revenge. Narrow eyes. To use what they taught me against them. Sit and think. I know languages, weapons systems, communications, concealment, fighting, important people. But the cataloging of things you know hits a snag. I knew Steve. Your thoughts swirl down like a vortex and crash into your stomach. I don't deserve to be out. I could have gotten away before. There's nothing for the Winter Soldier, only death.
Sit with closed eyes and let yourself indulge in sadness, and hate. Hate for the handlers, the doctors and technicians. Revenge. That's what I do. Never for myself, always for…handlers. For a greater good. Think of the handler who looks like Steve, but with colder, harder blue eyes. He told me my work would save the world, but how does killing Steve save the world? He lied, they all lied. Put your head on your knees. Oh Steve. Maybe finishing this life getting revenge would be better than sitting in a cage or finishing myself. I know the locations of a lot of things. What is she thinking. Tap back;
• – – • • – • • • – – • • • – – • • PLAN?
• – – • – • – – WAW WAIT AND WATCH • • • – • – SK END
You wake to the sound of approaching footsteps. Guards stand outside the bars. They say they will use their electric sticks on you if you get violent. Stand calmly and watch them through your hair, knowing they will get angrier. None of them dare to open the door, but one of them starts threatening you. As if the bars will keep me from reaching you. Narrow your eyes at him. He's the one who said you weren't so scary. HYDRA. But before you decide to act, a man in street clothes comes up to the bars. Sam. The HYDRA guard stops yelling.
Sam looks calm, dressed casually in a blue shirt and dark pants. he's talking to a guard, the nice one. Sam looks at you and smiles, a big smile that lights up his face. "Hey man! Don't worry about all this, they just need you to see the judge at the arraignment hearing."
What. Feel your face crinkle as you frown. "It's ok, just procedure. You only have to stand in a room just down the hall and see the judge on the television. It will be over quick, then they'll bring you back here."
Relax a bit. Feel better now that Sam's here, he helps. Why. "You'll have to wear handcuffs, but no one will hurt you." The nice guard opens the door and comes in, he moves closer, watching your eyes, showing his hands holding handcuffs. Look down and move your arms behind your back, feel the cuffs go on. Handcuffs have never even slowed you down, but if it makes them feel better, ok.
Sam says "One important thing," Important, must remember. "When the judge asks how you plea, say 'not guilty'. 'Not guilty', say that, remember!" Say not guilty, remember. Nod. The other guards move back and open up the doorway, the guards behind nudge you forward and you pad down the hall in your bare feet until other guards guide you into a room with a table and a large television.
They stop you behind the table, where you stand in front of the TV. An older man on the screen introduces himself, and begins reading something to you, saying these are your rights. You listen, but none of what he's saying makes any sense. The right to remain silent? Do I understand? Nod anyway. Then the judge starts asking questions.
"Are you James Buchanan Barnes? Do you have children? Where do you live? How old are you?" Confusion…I don't know… see the judge start to get angry at you for not answering. The guards are watching, shifting. I don't know… Begin to panic but see Sam in the back, smiling and nodding his head. It's ok, he mouths, just answer. Fear punishment for not answering, look back at the man on the screen, take a breath and say "I don't know."
The judge looks at you. "You don't know." Look at the floor. "Look at me." Raise your eyes to meet the judge's. "What's your name?"
Stare at the judge, frown, don't look down. "I don't know."
It's the judge's turn to stare and frown. Someone comes into the camera view and whispers to him. The frown deepens and he clears his throat. "Ok, well. You, the Winter Soldier, have been charged with multiple counts of first degree murder, multiple counts of assault with a deadly weapon…" As the judge continues, you stop listening, until he says "I won't set a bail. Can you hire a lawyer or do you need the court to appoint one?" No answer. "The court will appoint one. How do you plead?
Remember. "Not guilty." The judge looks at you, then writes something in a notebook. "Ok, we're done."
The guards motion you out of the room and escort you back down the hall to your original cell. Sam shouts at you from down the hall, blocked by the guards from getting closer. "Barnes! The trial will begin in two days, don't do anything, just wait. Talk to the lawyer that comes."
You're unable to acknowledge Sam as the guards force you back down the hall. See the HYDRA guard standing by the open door of your cell. Don't do anything, Sam said. But HYDRA. Walk calmly all the way to the open door, but when you get within arms reach of the target, twist and flex your metal arm to break the handcuff, jump forward and get the target by his head and twist just right, hear the crack and feel his neck break. Drop him. Hear the others yelling, move into the cell and wait there, punishment now, every time. Brace yourself for the beating you know will come.
The guards rush to the fallen one, calling on their radios, some pointing their sticks at you and others checking the dead target. Conceal a small smile behind your hair. The guards slam the cell door shut, hear them calling for medical help. Stand and wait. Shake your head, a tiny movement. What's one more murder charge.
The next day, a man who calls himself your lawyer comes and talks to you. He asks questions that you don't know how to answer. He goes away, frustrated.
The days pass, nothing happens, just the changing of the guards and food delivery. But the third day after breakfast multiple guards arrive and open the cell door. They say it's trial day, come out and get into the containment cell. Don't resist or they'll release the gas again. Just watch them. Dare. The guards close the cell door and leave. The white mist starts to descend through a vent in the ceiling. Fight the gas until you can't anymore, slowly go down to the floor, close your eyes…
The guards do a repeat of what they did before, except they put you back in the mobile containment cell and strap you down. They lock the door and move the cell into a large bright room. Light, sounds, lots of people talking…move your head slowly to check out your surroundings. A room full of people. Frown. Straighten up as best you can in the restraints to get more comfortable. The talking dies when they notice you move. Ignore the stares, breathe. Talking resumes, the volume growing louder, people staring and pointing at you. Fight the after-affects of the gas, it's making you feel lethargic, tired, and the crowd, the noise, the lights, everything, too much. Close your eyes, breathe, stay calm…a voice announces the arrival of the judge, and the room quiets.
The trial begins.