The morning was taken up by discussions between Peggy, Howard, and Colonel Phillips in his office at the Bletchley base; all three of them were on board regarding their idea of a global intelligence organisation and now was the time to hammer out the details. The proposed organisation would be built using the SSR itself as its foundation, expanding and developing it to greater heights and wider parameters.
Peggy smiled to herself as they talked: as one of the founders of the proposed organisation she would technically become Jack's boss – she wondered what he would have to say about that.
She couldn't help but think of the date they would be going on later that evening, wondering not for the first time why she had decided to say yes when he had asked her out. Lunch with Lottie had made her realise that there were so few people in the world with whom she was truly open, who she was able to fully be herself around. She could not imagine dating someone who did not know about her work, having to hide information as she had initially done in her budding friendship with Angie, but Jack knew every detail. He was undeniably an arse at times, but since they had started working together to root out the mole and track Zodiac he had not made any attempt to hold her back and they made a surprisingly good team.
A part of her was wary to risk their new dynamic by adding a potential romance to the mix but she rationalised to herself that it was just a date, a way to dip her toe in the water, and if it didn't work out then fine, no harm done.
But, thinking of the way he had kissed her in La Martinique when he hadn't realised that the whole thing had been a cover, she had decided that it was a risk she was willing to take.
Their meeting was disrupted by Agent Newman knocking on the office door. "Sorry to interrupt, chaps," he said, poking his head around the door. "But I thought you would want to hear this ..."
It turned out that Nigel Parker had been particularly informative – he didn't know an exact location or coordinates, but he knew that the supplies came by rail from Austria before being shipped to England. That had narrowed their field significantly; they knew that there was an old HYDRA base hidden somewhere in the Austrian mountains alongside a railway track, near to where they had caught Zola and Sergeant Barnes had fallen to his death, but they had never found it after the war.
Considering that Zodiac was a splinter group of HYDRA, it was likely that was where they would find Levourne since they had already surmised that he had probably left England for Europe – and if the base was active, there would be activity for them to track back to the elusive building itself.
"Gear up," Phillips ordered her brusquely as Newman finished his account, putting their negotiations and discussions on a halt for the day. "You're leading the team – strictly recon, Carter, we don't know what we're getting ourselves into."
Jack was sitting at the table in Peggy's small kitchen with his third cup of coffee of the day, pouring over the files on the Zodiac case to see if there was anything they had missed. Given that the supplies were being shipped in to Felixstowe, a port on the lower east coast of England, it was likely that they were coming from Europe, so he was looking into any and all ties that they had managed to uncover linking Levourne to the continent. He was just taking a sip from his mug when the front door burst open, startling him to his feet and making him instantly go for his gun.
"Jack?" he heard Peggy call from the hallway.
"In here," he replied, wondering what she was doing back already. She quickly entered the kitchen and he saw that she was wearing her combat gear. Her curled hair was practically tied back out of the way and a rifle was slung over her shoulder – he was well used to seeing her in fatigues, but given that she was still wearing the immaculate make up that she had donned for the office that morning, she looked almost like an Army pin-up straight from any GI's fantasy.
He frowned deeply, knowing full well that she was in combat gear for a reason. "Where are you going?" he asked, holstering his gun.
"Austria," she said simply, staring at him with her dark impenetrable eyes.
And he would not be going with her, that was obvious enough with his injured shoulder.
"Parker was very eager to cooperate," she continued when he didn't reply, still looking at him intently. "We have a possible location for a base and there is a good chance Levourne is there. Negotiations have been put on hold ... Phillips wants me leading the team," she finished, slowly walking forwards so that she was standing right in front of him.
Jack shifted his feet awkwardly and leant back against the counter behind him. "... Looks like we're gonna need another raincheck on that dinner then," he drawled, shoving his free hand in his trouser pocket while the other was still strapped in the sling she had forced on him that morning. He was doing his best to hide how conflicted he was – on one hand he knew that she was perfectly capable of leading a mission without him, but on the other he desperately wanted to be there with her.
She nodded slowly, pressing her lips together, and he couldn't quite read her expression – she didn't seem pleased or relieved to be postponing their date though, that much was obvious.
"You're heading straight out?" he asked somewhat rhetorically since she was in fatigues with a rifle slung over the top – dammit, he wanted to be going too, he didn't like this one bit.
She nodded again and took a deep breath. "We're on our way to the hanger now," she explained in a clipped voice, evidently having swung by the house on her way out to tell him about the mission. "It's strictly recon, so no need to worry."
"Easier said than done," Jack retorted, trying to make light of the situation to hide his disquiet, though in all honesty he was relieved to know that it would unlikely be a fire-fight.
It now looked like he now had a lonely, stressful night of worrying about her ahead of him though - certainly be a far cry from what he'd had planned. In a village as small is this their date wouldn't have been anything extravagant: a simple meal at the pub, a few drinks and then back home, maybe putting some records on and enjoying a nightcap, but he had still been looking forward to it.
He tried to tell himself that a raincheck was a good thing, now he would be able to take her out in New York instead – she didn't like swing music, but he knew a couple of low-key jazz clubs she might like. One of them even had a pool table, he could watch as she smoked the regulars and hustled them free drinks.
A car horn sounded from outside and Peggy glanced briefly over her shoulder towards the front door. "I have to go," she said regretfully. "... I'll see you tomorrow, Jack."
"Carter," he said without thinking as she made to turn away – she looked back at him and he decided to hell with it.
Grasping the strap of her rifle, he pulled her close and simply kissed her.
She seemed surprised, but kissed him back instantly. He couldn't help the heady feeling in his chest - this was the first time they had kissed, properly kissed, not for a cover or a mission, and she was actually kissing him back. Her hands came up to fist in the material of his shirt, hindered slightly by the sling that he still wore, and she parted her lips beneath his as she drove his back against the counter.
The horn sounded outside again, longer and more impatient this time, and she instantly broke away, detangling her hands from his shirt. "I have to go," she said, her voice husky and breathy.
He didn't reply, keeping a firm grip on the strap of her rifle as he leant forward to press his forehead against hers with his eyes closed. "Jack, I have to go," she repeated, her breath fanning out on his mouth due to their proximity.
He nodded and drew back, pausing to brush an errant curl behind her ear. Jesus, he wanted to tell her just how damn much he cared about her - tell her to be careful, tell her that she had to come back – but he couldn't find the words. "Play it safe, alright?" he settled on saying, trying not to make it sound too much like an order as his fingertips lingered lightly on the side of her face.
She nodded her understanding, leant forward to press another quick, darting kiss to his mouth, and then she was gone.
Approximately three hours later, Peggy was lying on a ridge above a small Austrian town situated high in the hills before the mountains, gazing out with a set of binoculars. Even at a glance it was clear to see that the entire area was deserted; doors of homes stood open, several windows were smashed, and there was a twisted bicycle lying in one of the streets.
She shook her head, lowering the binoculars. "I don't like this," she said, knowing that something big had to have happened to cause the people of the town to flee and they were only a team of four. "We should pull back, call for reinforcements before attempting any recon," she told Newman, who was crouched beside her. Behind her, she heard Wood and Smith approaching, having been guarding their rear while they looked out over the town.
"Too late for that," a vaguely accented European voice said, followed by the sound of the safety being clicked off a gun.
Instantly going for her rifle as she turned, she was appalled to see Agents Wood and Smith standing with their hands behind their heads. No less than ten armed and uniformed men stood behind them, two of them covering the disarmed Agents while the others had their guns trained on her.
"Lower your weapons," the one who had initially spoken added, staring down the barrel of his gun at her. "Do it, now!"
Newman instantly obeyed, but Peggy kept her gun up, thinking quickly – they were outnumbered, that much was obvious, and she could see no way out of the situation if she chose to engage. Perhaps if Newman hadn't given up his gun they would have had a chance, shooting the men covering the other Agents, who would then be free to fight and acquire a gun themselves, but he had hastily dropped his gun when he had seen Wood and Smith disarmed. When she made no move to lower her own weapon, one of the men covering Agent Wood pressed his gun harder into the back of his head, causing him to lean forward slightly and squeeze his eyes closed.
"Carter," Newman said softly from beside her, his own hands already submissively behind his head as his gun was snatched up by one of the uniformed thugs.
Bitterly resigning herself to capture, she lowered her weapon and allowed the gun to be taken from her.
One of the men forced her hands behind her back, tying them, while their leader looked over the four of them. "Take anything of use: weapons, ammo packs, knives," he ordered his men as they were patted down. He then ran his gaze up and down Peggy's body and jerked his chin at her. "We'll bring her back to base with us … Kill the others," he added coldly.
Peggy's lips parted in abject shock, wishing now that she had fought despite the overwhelmingly uneven odds, but a bag was shoved over her head before she could say a word, sending the world into darkness.
She heard three sudden gun shots ringing out through the forest, instantly silencing the struggles and protests of her team. She gritted her teeth, knowing that they had been killed, and squeezed her eyes closed as she instinctively tested her bonds.
She felt the hot barrel of a gun that had just been fired being pressed to her back, forcing her to walk blindly forwards. I'm so sorry, Jack, she thought to herself as she was taken away.
Evening was approaching and Jack was half considering going to the pub alone for a drink to calm his nerves (he couldn't stop thinking about Peggy being out on a mission) when the front door burst open for the second time that day.
"Thompson?" Benjy called, his voice frantic. "Thompson, are you here?"
"What? What's wrong?" he wanted to know, springing to his feet and quickly going to the hall, where Benjamin Carter was standing in front of the open door. He was white as a sheet, his glasses slightly askew and his hair a mess, as if he had run his hands through it – something had happened, that much was clear. "Benjy, what's wrong?" he asked again, his voice dire as a hundred possibilities ran through his mind.
"They - they missed the rendezvous point," Carter said, his voice coming out in a faint croak as he stared at him and making Jack's heart clench in his chest at the news. "Peggy and the team. They're … missing in action."
"You are not supposed to be here," Phillips said sternly as Jack stalked into his office at the Bletchley base, not even looking up from the radio that he was fiddling with and holding the headset up to one ear to listen to the static. Howard Stark was standing beside him, his arms folded uncomfortably over his expensive suit as he watched the proceedings.
"What's going on?" Jack wanted to know, desperately hoping that they'd had some news beyond what Benjy had told him.
Phillips didn't reply, didn't even look up, his heavily lined face frowning down at the radio.
"We've lost all contact," Stark told him bleakly as the silence dragged on, his drawling voice lacking its usual sardonic bite.
"Are you sending a team out to look for them?" Jack demanded, wanting to know what had been done to recover them.
"They were out on a reconnaissance mission," Phillips said, straightening up. "Failure to meet the rendezvous point implies hostiles so we aren't going in blind again," he said, all business as he turned to face him for the first time. "We will send a plane to sweep the area and if that proves fruitful we'll put a team together -"
"That's not good enough," Jack snarled, unable to believe that they were going to do nothing when God only knew what had happened to Peggy - to the whole team - out there. Realising that he had to keep his cool, he purposefully lowered his voice to a more respectful level and raised his good hand slightly, entreating Phillips. "They've only been MIA for an hour or so, to assume hostiles -"
"Thompson," Phillips said, letting his name hang in the air for a second, his stern and heavily lined face utterly unimpressed and immovable. "I have known Peggy Carter since she was a cadet, do not make the mistake of thinking that you are the only one in this room who cares for her," he stated heavily, his voice full of the stern intractability of a commander who has lost soldiers before. Stark shifted slightly on his feet, looking down at the floor with a deep frown. "But I have potentially lost four good Agents on what should have been a simple recon mission. We don't even have coordinates for the base, so we are not going in half-cocked again," the Colonel said, then turned back to the radio dismissively. "And if you have a problem with that then you are free to leave."
Recognising that arguing was futile, Jack clenched his hands into fists, turned on his heel, and walked out of the office.
The door swung shut behind him and he stood in the empty corridor for several long seconds, breathing quickly and utterly unsure what to do.
"Dammit," he said caustically under his breath, feeling completely powerless. He stalked over to where there was a phone on a small secretary desk, picking it up and dialling a familiar number. It rang three times, the long wait only adding to his tension.
"Sousa," Daniel said as he answered the Chief's phone back in the New York office, his voice crackling slightly down the line.
"You said that Zola had a possible location, right?" Jack demanded in a low voice, not bothering with the niceties.
"Thompson?" Sousa said, sounding surprised to find Jack calling him. He heard papers being briefly shuffled around, then he spoke again. "Uh, yeah he said that he had precise coordinates – why, what's going on?" he wanted to know.
"He wants to play scientist, fine," Jack ordered sharply down the phone, glancing over his shoulder at the closed door that lead to Phillips' office. "We will get him out of prison, keep him under house arrest - curfew, full regulations, the works. Tell him we'll set him up with a lab – hell, I'll even buy him a chemistry set for Christmas - but you get those coordinates, do you understand?"
"Jack," Sousa said, evidently trying very hard to stay calm in the wake of Jack's tirade since they had all agreed that they would not make a deal with the former HYDRA scientist unless they had no other choice. "What's going on?"
There was a pause as Jack looked down at the floor and swallowed once. "Peggy is MIA," he admitted eventually, biting out the words with difficulty – as if saying it made it true. He heard the small puh of Sousa's shocked breath in the phone's reciever. "How quickly can you get to the penitentiary?" he wanted to know.
"Forty-five minutes," Daniel answered instantly, all business despite the tremor in his voice.
Jack nodded and checked his watch. "I expect good news from you in less than an hour," he said brusquely, then put the phone down without so much as another word.
Peggy estimated that they had walked for well over two miles before she was shoved in what was most likely the back of a truck, unable to see due to the bag over her head. They then drove for about twenty minutes on winding roads, during which time she tested her bonds and made a mental catalogue of all the items that she still had on her that could potentially be of use. When the truck stopped there was a brief pause, then she was hauled out of the back and pushed to walk once more – based on the cool air and the perfectly even floor beneath her feet, she guessed that they were inside HYDRA's mountain base.
The bag was pulled off her head and she blinked, instantly adjusting to the changing light and taking in her surroundings. They were in a narrow corridor that contained half a dozen barred cells, all of which were empty.
"The SSR does not negotiate, I will not be your hostage," she said assertively as they undid the bonds holding her hands behind her back, trying to get a response from them in order to better understand the position she was now in and make an escape plan.
"You're not a hostage, we aren't going to be ransoming you," one of the uniformed men said almost lightly, his accent European. He opened the door to one of the cells while his partner covered Peggy with his gun, lest she try anything. "I'll put this simply: we were out provisioning ... you're a provision," he said with a smirk, slapping her backside hard to push her into the cell.
Peggy stared at them in cold, grim silence as they locked her in and left her alone – then she smiled weakly to herself.
They had made a big mistake in untying her hands.
Jack was in the locker room of Bletchley, changing into tactical gear and swearing under his breath as each movement sent pain lancing down from his shoulder. He already had his combat trousers and boots on, the two easiest items to don with his injury, and was struggling with his armoured vest when the door opened to reveal Howard Stark.
"Thought I'd find you in here," he drawled, looking at him with his chin lowered and his hands in his pockets of his expensive jacket as the door swung shut behind him. "What are you going to do, storm the base yourself?"
"If I have to," Jack grunted in reply, forcing the titanium-alloy vest over his head with some difficulty and starting on the fastenings.
"Look, pal," Stark said, sounding for all the world like he was about to try and talk him out of his plan. "Peg is one of my closest friends in the world and I'm not saying nothing should be done - but you've gotta realise that going in alone is suicide."
Jack didn't even look up at him, the fastenings beneath his injured shoulder almost giving him enough trouble for him to consider going without the vest altogether despite the protection it provided. "You got a better idea?" he wanted to know.
"Yeah," Stark said plainly, making Jack glance quickly up at him. The American playboy was still slouching with his hands in his jacket as he hovered beside the door, but his gaze was sharp and intent. "Let me make a few calls ... I still have some friends in the 107th," he said in a dry voice, then he tilted his head thoughtfully to one side. "Now that I think about it, Timothy Dugan owes me a favour from that day in Warsaw, so getting him on board won't be a problem."
Jack was staring at him in complete surprise, his fingers frozen on the fastenings. "... Thanks," he said simply, unable to believe that Stark was offering him the God-damn 107th as a tactical team for this utterly unauthorised, possibly suicidal, half-planned mission. He'd fought with them in Russia when they had stormed that Leviathan training facility – they were tough bastards, every one of them, and Peggy's friends to boot.
He couldn't imagine anyone better beside him for this mission.
"Anything else I can do?" Stark asked, rocking forward on his toes slightly.
"Yeah," Jack said dryly, looking down as he reached for his fatigue jacket, pulling it on and gritting his teeth at the wave of pain – Jesus, he needed to find painkillers of some kind, in the state is was in at the moment he was not mission capable. "Find me a way to Austria."
"Well," Stark said musingly, making him glance up once more – he had been being rhetorical when he had asked, fully intending to drive to the hanger they'd initially landed at when they'd arrived from New York and press-gang one of the pilots into taking him, possibly by gun point if necessary. "... I do have a plane," he offered casually.
Next up – the Howling Commandos ...
Thank you to #cravinghoneydukes and#dontbesillywefall for proofing for me, and THANK YOU for all your awesome reviews - keep them coming, guys! :D