Disclaimer: These characters are all Marvel's. I make no money from this and in fact give Marvel (willingly) lots of my money so they will continue creating movies I love.
Author's Note: A lot of neuroscience discussion, a little bit of faking and some sneaky goings on courtesy of Madame Hydra.
Brock was still buried in the copious amounts of reading material in the files when Johnson appeared a few hours later.
The red-headed scientist poked his head into the vault with a nervous expression on his face. "Umm, is it finished yet?"
Brock checked the playback timer. It was showing the last minute or so of the recording so he waved the scientist in.
The clock ran down and the scientist halted the media stream to the helmet and looked nervously at The Asset. Brock gave him a disparaging look "Seriously?"
Johnson shuffled his feet and looked down – either nervous or embarrassed, or maybe both. "Caution isn't unwise. There have been several past incidents after all."
"Yes and none of them involved arm and leg restraints" Brock replied tersely. "Now get that thing off him."
Johnson finally approached the chair and began unfastening the straps on the viewing device. The Asset hadn't moved Brock noticed, and when the helmet was finally taken away his eyes are bloodshot and vacant, staring at nothing.
"What the hell's happened to him?"
Brock was convinced that he'd mostly managed to mask his concern. God what if this was because Dixon had got all handsy?
Johnson shrugged "This is just what happens. His brain is going to take a while to sort out all the new information, the catatonia should only last an hour or two at most."
They make him catatonic on purpose and this is standard operating procedure. Am I the only that thinks that's a little messed up?
He looked at Johnson going about his business, running some sort of analysis on one of the systems on the chair. Clearly it was just Brock.
Hell it couldn't get laid on him and his men at least, and it was temporary.
And he was going to be ok, that was good.
"So what's the next step here?" Brock asked. He'd been sat here useless for hours. The inactivity was beginning to get to him.
Johnson picked up a file and flipped through a few pages. Clearly he wasn't kidding when he said Collins was the expert here.
"Ah! As soon as he's responsive again, we run a brain scan to map the new neural pathways, and put him into the testing booth to evaluate recall. I know where that is," the man said, looking up with a pleased expression on his face.
Whoopee for you.
To be fair to the man, he did then mange to shake off his earlier cowardice and set about applying a series of electrodes to The Asset's head with barely a flinch. Maybe there was hope for him yet.
He flicked a switch and a few moments later Brock heard a startled gasp. To be honest his brain had wandered into the realm of imaging what he'd finally choose when he managed to get something to eat - a Philly Cheese Steak was currently winning the day – but this was enough to draw his attention back to the awkward man sharing the room with him and the World's Most Efficient Killer (patent pending).
And it was that ruthlessly efficient brain that had elicited the shock and awe of the Hydra scientist.
"Agent Rumlow, you need to see this."
Rumlow stood up from his perch on the table and moved to stand in front of the display that had captured Johnson's avid attention.
"God it's beautiful." A highly detailed image of the inside of The Asset's skull was being displayed in a nicely complimentary selection of colours on one of the monitors. Trust a scientist to be more enamoured by a few pounds of grey matter than by the pretty package they were housed in.
But Brock was curious."What's got you so excited doc? I don't speak neuroscience."
The image in front of him was a living and breathing thing with different parts lighting up in the allocated colours, constantly shifting and changing.
Okay Brock had to admit, it was fairly captivating.
"I've never seen anything like this." Johnson exhaled.
Well yeah, The Fist of Hydra, The Winter Soldier, The Asset. You don't get a The in front of your call handle unless you're pretty singular.
Brock was going to need more to go on. "What's so special about it?"
It, not him. Well done Brock.
Johnson pointed to an area that looked dark – well not dark exactly. Poorly illuminated?
"This is what we believe is the transitional memory, where short term memories are filtered and important information is retained in the long term memory. Almost all the pathways here have been purposefully severed. This is extreme brain damage and yet there's still some minor activity. His body is trying to heal it – extraordinary."
"Whoa, you mean he's starting to remember?" Brock felt a spike of – fear? Excitement?
"I mean he's always starting to remember. I guess this explains why the skills training and uploads are always done so close to a wipe. You wouldn't want the neurochemical boosters to help advance the repair of the pathways."
"So B- the person he used to be, he's still in there?" The Asset was still unresponsive but Brock thought it better to assume he could hear what was going on.
"In terms of his original memories you mean? Then yes it's possible that all that is still intact."
Well I'll be…
So wipe isn't exactly the right term for it.
Rumlow repeated that thought out loud to Johnson.
"Not in terms of this isolated section of his brain, no but the shock treatments do in theory prevent him turning new short-term memories into long-term ones."
"In theory? You mean you don't know?"
"Lord No. Zola was – is? – was so far ahead of everyone else even in the 60s and 70s that we still don't know how he did half of what he did." He turned to face Brock with an eager expression on his face "Do you think I'll get to meet him? Zola? Mechanical and biological interface technologies is my speciality and he's practically the inventor of the field."
It was a little pathetic true, but Johnson's fan-boying was striking a cord with Brock's own reaction to first seeing The Winter Soldier, so he couldn't judge him too harshly. But if he didn't shut up soon and get back on point Rumlow might lose his magnanimous attitude.
"You'd have to ask Pierce about that…" Brock said distractedly. He'd noticed something out of the corner of his eye a moment ago, but looking around now nothing was out of place. His instincts were never wrong though and now he was decidedly uneasy.
"I mean look here – this section of the brain, they managed to program it to pick up, store, and assimilate everything received through the optic and auditory nerves, as long as a precise set of conditions are met. Even the most advance research teams aren't close to even beginning to understand how to start doing something like that, and they've had decades longer than Zola…"
There it was again. Rumlow tuned the scientist's ramblings out. He'd sensed, more than seen something and it had most definitely come from The Asset's direction.
He glanced over. Nothing seemed any different, The Asset was still sat with perfect posture. His currently sightless gaze locked in the middle-distance somewhere and seemingly oblivious.
Johnson's blathering continued on in the background "…so I have this idea about how to add more sensory input to the arm so that The Asset could get more information about his surroundings from it than even from a flesh and blood arm. Do you think that's something I could bring to Doctor Zola?"
"Sure…" Brock's gaze was still on The Asset and there was no mistaking it this time. There was the slightest of changes in his demeanour.
It wasn't even a movement. It was almost that he became more rigid, more perfectly stationary.
One thing was clear, he was a lot more aware of proceedings then he was apparently supposed to be, and more so then he was willing to show his handlers.
The Asset was a faker. Interesting. As was the fact that the mention of Zola, his creator – or destroyer depending on your outlook – was enough to affect his otherwise ironclad composure.
Brock needed a little more evidence though. He transferred his gaze to the screen that apparently displayed a live feed of The Soldier's brain.
"I mean you're our expert right? It makes sense for your suggestions to be sent to Zola for him to consider." There. There had definitely been a flash of activity when he'd said Zola's name.
Brock pointed to the area where he saw the flash "What's this part for?"
Johnson looked shocked by his interest but peered closely at the area Rumlow had indicated. "That's the amygdala, umm, the right one, it's primarily thought to handle processing of negative emotions – fear, stress, trauma, all that stuff."
"Right."
Johnson looked as though he was waiting for Brock to explain why he was asking. He could keep on waiting as far as Brock was concerned.
This was probably something he should bring to the science team's notice, but he was the handler and The Asset was his responsibility.
He looked back at the chair and its occupant, searching to catch something in those silver-blue eyes. Not a thing. Damn, but he really was incredible.
You couldn't create the world's best covert black ops agent and then punish him for using those skills to the full. That just didn't sit right with Brock. And he had no doubt that whatever 'correction' they'd employ if they found out about The Asset's subterfuge it wouldn't be enjoyable for the kid.
Despite Pierce's pretence that he was with them willingly, it seems as though The Soldier wasn't quite buying the party line. The fact that he clearly had a visceral reaction to Zola's name probably added to his confusion and distrust of his colleagues. Oh yeah and the repeated groping probably wasn't helping any.
Once again Brock was left to uncomfortably contemplate exactly what the renowned Hydra scientist had done to the one-time American hero to leave that much of a mark on his scarred and stripped-down psyche. Maybe the great re-union tour being planned wasn't the best of ideas.
He'd at least have to tell Pierce that he'd noticed The Asset showing recognition of the Hydra founder's name and not in a 'Gee, golly I've missed him' sort of way.
He focused on Johnson again who was still looking at him expectantly "Go get Collins would ya? We need to check that the upload or whatever you called it took the way Viper said it would."
"Oh. OK." Collins seemed put-out by the order - he clearly thought he was the new flavour of the month or something. He left the room to track down his cowardly co-worker.
To be fair, compared to Collins he was a delight.
Brock checked for footsteps or any other sound of approach before moving to stand in front of the chair. He considered crouching, but with what had just taken place with Dix, Brock thought that might send the wrong message.
He took a few steps back. A little professional distance couldn't hurt; the guy was still shirtless after all.
He locked on to those unusual pale eyes and refused to look away. "Hey kid, I know you're back with us so you can drop the 100 yard stare. It's got to be giving you a headache." He considered what The Asset had just spent the last few hours being subjected to. "Well more of a headache anyway" he amended. "That's an order."
Clearly the handler mojo was working for him because almost instantly The Soldier met his eyes, totally focused, noticeably swallowed and then averted his gaze, staring down at the ground.
"Yes sir."
Brock felt a slight thrill. That was the first time The Asset had acknowledged his command status verbally.
Clearly the kid thought his subterfuge was about to earn him some form of reprimand – from what Brock had so far read probably the painful kind – so he decided that some re-assurance was the order of the day. And hey if it meant the kid would trust him then more's the better.
"Soldier, eyes up."
The Asset raised his gaze. Good, no one that deadly should ever look that cowed and uncertain, it was too paradoxical for Rumlow to cope with.
"Look this will stay between you and me" he saw the surprise flash in The Asset's eyes before the reaction was quickly locked down.
There really was a person in there and Brock was becoming more and more invested in meeting him. Though it was the very opposite of what he should be doing. Damn it.
"I get it. You just wanted a few moments to figure out what's going on with no one prodding or poking at you, or" Brock felt a flash of guilt and looked away, hand going to the back of his neck "er, other stuff."
The Asset didn't respond. Brock didn't expect him to. He hadn't asked him a direct question after all.
"Look about that, the guy was under my command. It shouldn't have happened and he's been dealt with. It won't happen again." Well at least not with Dixon involved Brock hoped.
He'd have to make sure that he or Rollins was present at all times to avoid having anyone else risk their neck simply to cross a name off their list.
Exactly what kinda list was it anyway? People I'd willingly die to fuck?
Brock simply didn't get people with that little impulse control or good sense. It showed a lack of discipline that was a serious liability in his opinion. Of course he'd never have pegged Dix as one of that sort.
Suicidally reckless he means. Not queer, or bi, or whatever.
He realised that he'd been standing silently in front of The Asset for a good 60 seconds lost in his own thoughts. He suddenly felt awkward.
This was ridiculous.
The Asset was sat silently, with perfect posture despite being pinned down to what was effectively a torture device for the last few hours. He was every commanding officer's dream.
That was a big part of Brock's problem right there.
He gathered himself together. "Right we'll just wait for the eggheads to return, get your wiring checked out and then we can let you loose in the training room to burn off some energy." Something he was looking forward to a little too much.
Maybe Dixon wasn't the only one who needed to work on his self-discipline.
Where the hell were they? And what was keeping Rollins and Davis?
He was just about to tap his in-ear communicator to open a channel to Rollins when he heard the unmistakable sound of multiple combat boots clomping down the corridor towards them. About damn time.
His two STRIKE team members appeared walked through the steel-barred doorway into the vault, followed by the two scientists and their assistant.
Johnson's stride faltered as he noticed The Asset's eyes following him. "He's awake?"
"Yeah, just snapped out of it a moment ago" Brock lied.
He thought he might have seen The Asset glance in his direction but it was too quick for him to be sure.
Johnson and Collins shared a concerned look and moved to the monitors to observe whatever readings they felt needed looking at.
"Anything wrong?" he inquired.
Rollins caught his eye and looked like he had something he needed to say. Brock raised his hand in what he hoped was an 'in a minute' gesture and waited for the scientists to respond.
Unexpectedly – after exchanging a few looks - Collins allowed Johnson to answer "Umm no, no, baselines all appear normal, but according to the records this is unusually fast for him to come around. Normally it takes hours."
Brock pulled out his best 'thinking look' "Maybe it's whatever Madame Hydra gave him."
Hell for all he knew that could be the truth, although he doubted it was the whole of it, having seen what he had.
"Yes, that must be it," Collins replied. Johnson didn't look quite so convinced, but he obviously wasn't going to push.
"So what happens now?" Brock asked.
Collins' impressive ego obviously wouldn't let him be cowed for too long, and the superior tone was back when he responded "We finish this scan and then test his retention of the inputted program of course."
Brock let out a long-suffering sigh, god save him from pompous science nerds.
"Where? How? And How Long?"
Collins seemed to lose at little of his hot air at Rumlow's 'Well duh!' response.
"Well it's a SHIELD training program; we have a standard fluency evaluation set up at the terminal in the training room."
Brock suddenly noticed that The Asset's attention was focused on the vault entrance, and before Brock could even turn to glance in that direction, the reason was made clear when a crisp female voice said something in what Brock was beginning to recognise as Hindi.
Viper was back. And whatever she'd said was clearly a question aimed at The Asset, as he quickly responded to her words in the same Indian dialect.
"Seems to have worked to me" she said in a self-satisfied tone.
She'd managed a wardrobe change since Brock had left her in the company of Pierce earlier.
She was leaning against the internal door, wearing a skin-tight emerald green catsuit with a silver metal-link belt and looking pretty damn good he had to grudgingly admit. Now how the hell had she slithered in there without anyone but The Asset noticing?
Brock wasn't particularly happy about this current turn of events. He knew what she wanted and he was going to make sure she damn well didn't get it.
Rumlow narrowed his eyes "What did you say to him?"
He owed her a measure of respect but he wasn't going to play her game. No way. No how.
She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow "That's between him and me" she smiled a slow, scarlet-lipped smile at The Asset "isn't it darling."
Brock resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He fixed his eyes on those of Madripoor's erstwhile queen (if what he'd heard was true) and without shifting his gaze addressed The Asset. "Soldier what did she ask you just now?"
For a split second he wondered if he should have specified 'in English' but luckily it seemed The Asset wasn't a literalist.
"She asked if I could understand what she was saying. I responded that I was able to."
The she in question stuck out her tongue. At The Fucking Winter Soldier. "Spoilsport" she said in a warm tone.
Or maybe he was a literalist. The exchange – on Viper's side at least - had seemed longer than something that simple would have necessitated.
Without breaking eye contact with their 'guest' he asks The Asset "What else did she say to you?"
Without a hesitation his Soldier replied. "She said she was looking forward to getting to know me better."
"Hush. Bad dog." comes back to The Asset in a teasing voice followed by an indulgent smile from the lovely but deadly woman still casually leaning against the doorway.
Brock suddenly realised how badly he'd just been played. However much information she might have been able to get her hands on, he doubted she'd ever managed to obtain a copy of The Asset's operating manual, that would only pass to the current handler or handlers he supposed. Yet within a few seconds she'd provoked him into revealing exactly what prompts The Asset responded to.
The bitch was smart he'd give her that.
Suddenly it occurred to him that he needed to get her away from the information in this room almost as much or maybe more than he needed to keep her away from The Asset.
A change in tactics was called for.
"Miss Sarkissian, what can we do for you?" Brock could do polite. When he needed to.
"Call me Ophelia please Brock."
Right, like that was going to happen. She wasn't even looking at him any more; all her attention was now fixed on The Soldier.
"Dearest Alex had to run off to his tiresome meeting, he suggested I come down and see our Asset in action. I believe a training session is scheduled." Even with her veneer of amiability, there was no room for misinterpreting that as a request. She was a Hydra Head and she expected compliance. And Rumlow knew that if he didn't watch his step, even if his resistance was due to loyalty to Pierce, he was at serious risk of losing his.
"Yes. Agent Rollins here will take you down to the training area."
"No rush I assure you. I'm happy to wait."
Damn it. He wanted her out of the room before she decided that she had a right to the files which were sat out there in the open for all to see. He doubted he had anything close to the authority to get them back from her with Pierce away.
Brock could think of only one sure way to distract her and he wasn't happy about it.
He looked at Johnson. "You ready to take him to the room for testing?" he asked the less aggravating of the two scientists.
"Umm, yes I believe so" the scientist replied with his characteristic nervousness.
"Right then, let's get this show on the road."
He walked over to the chair and released the restraints that had been holding The Asset in place for hours. Any other person would have instantly started moving to loosen up tight muscles, but he remained perfectly still awaiting his orders. His control was astounding.
Brock spun around to find Viper virtually next to him and he barely controlled his surprised reaction to her proximity. She moved almost as silently as The Soldier it would seem.
He shot his men a dirty look. They could have warned him.
Jack simply shrugged.
"Allow me" Viper said, moving forward in a manner that almost challenged Brock to stand his ground between her and his charge. Instead he stepped back, clearing the way and blocking her sight line to the folders on the side table.
She approached the chair until her body was pressed up against The Asset's right leg, and running her fingernails lightly across his scalp she began removing the network of sensors that were monitoring his brain activity.
With his documented aversion to contact, Brock was expecting The Asset to pull away from her, seeing how this time he was conscious and all, but after a few moments he almost seemed to welcome her touch.
Regardless of whatever else he was feeling about what was taking place – which was definitely not giving him a case of the warm fuzzies - Brock was certain something strange was going on here. Viper was doing something to The Soldier, something more than just the highly inappropriate physical advances the woman was making at every opportunity and the drug she'd admitted to dosing him with earlier.
He shouldn't have been responding to her questions for a start.
She'd finished her task of removing the electrodes and was once again gently combing her fingers through The Asset's dark hair, smoothing it down and ridding it of the wild look it had possessed pretty much since The Asset had been revived.
Brock had to admit it was an improvement. Give the kid a hairbrush and he'd be transformed.
Brock scowled. Enough. This might have been part of his plan but that didn't mean he had to like it.
Hell even The Asset shot an uncertain look towards Brock. He clearly understood that Viper was a Hydra high-up and he shouldn't upset her, but having someone who wasn't his handler or the science team get this up close and personal was obviously causing real confusion, as was his own reaction to it. OK that was it, Rumlow needed her gone.
"Soldier," The Asset instantly snapped to attention "accompany Miss Sarkissian, Davis, and the science team to the training room, they'll be running you through the usual test and drills."
All right, so he didn't actually know what those were, but he needed to sound like he did for both The Asset's sake and that of their dangerous visitor.
"Yes sir" The Asset responded.
Brock turned to face Johnson and Collins "No combat drills until I get there, just the language testing and skills and mobility exercises."
"He needs a nutrition and rehydration cycle before all that" Collins piped up. Then apparently reading the tension in the room, he showed the first real sign of intelligence that Brock had seen: "But we can sort that out there I suppose…" He looked at his assistant "Smith go fetch the IV kit from the other room."
So it was Smith. Smith, Collins, Johnson - Brock now had the full, weirdly generic set, lucky him.
The petulant young assistant strode off in an unhurried fashion – he was an odd one – to fetch whatever was required.
Brock hoped that IV feeding wasn't all they did to The Asset, the hunger pains would be unimaginable.
Unless they'd found a way to shut down his digestive system completely? That was also a horrible thing to contemplate, and something Brock knew he should really look up as soon as he got the opportunity.
Viper hadn't changed position or stopped her petting of The Asset. Brock hated to be cliché but her focus on the guy really did verge on the predatory. And he was honest enough to admit that he found it at least equally as hot as he did terrifying.
That therapy idea was sounding better and better.
Brock stared at the two of them.
"Dismissed."
For a moment Rumlow had wondered how The Asset was going to get out of the chair with his green-haired admirer blocking the way, but he felt almost stupid when the assassin smoothly, quickly, and almost effortlessly, manoeuvred out of the situation without even so much as an inadvertent brush against the tall woman.
Strength, grace and precision – it was stunning to watch.
The Soldier moved over to the vault door where he stood at parade rest waiting for the other members of the party to assemble.
Viper had tracked him as he crossed the room, green eyes focused on his retreating form and her hand planted firmly on her shapely hips. She looked over to Rumlow, eyebrow raised and lips quirked in amusement, before turning and walking towards The Soldier once again.
This was a bad idea. But he didn't have any others.
The Asset glanced over to him and back to the approaching figure of Viper. He almost looked nervous. Even in the midst of this fucked up situation Brock couldn't help but find that weirdly endearing.
Everyone was locked in place watching what could accurately be described as the irresistible force meeting the immovable object. But Madame Hydra wasn't playing fair, that much was clear.
"Move out" he barked to the idiots supposedly under his command, who were all still stood there mouths hanging open when they should have already left the room.
Davis snapped back to life and turned to exit the vault, apparently giving The Asset whatever cue or permission he needed to make his own speedy exit – just moments before Viper would have had him back in her clutches.
She simply shook her head and laughed - pleasantly he had to admit – before exiting the room and following the path taken by the STRIKE commando and the evasive assassin. The two scientists hesitantly moved in behind her.
Waiting until he could hear that enough distance had been covered for them not to be overheard, Brock locked his gazed on Rollins. "We need a battle plan. This is war."
