"You're made of stone you are," Michael returned three hours later with a sandwich and apple juice, "I wasn't expecting you to react the way you did, I would've thought some of his words might have been a trigger at least," Crimson shook her head, downing the drink in one and ripping open the paper wrap of the sandwich,

"They had a sequence I think, they had to say special words in a special order otherwise I would not comply. I do not remember the words, they block my memories so I do not resist," she said with a mouthful, "Mr McTavish said about another questioning," Michael tensed and nodded, lighting a cigarette with a match,

"Yeah, which could either go very right or completely shit," he explained, "Your evaluation deems you fit for service under the government but that's what the psycho-analysts say, the Secretary of War is popping down for a chat to see where you'll go," Crimson stopped eating momentarily,

"So I am going to be soldier," Michael opened his mouth to retaliate, "For America," and he nodded,

"I'll be in the room too," the door opened, "Don't worry, if things go wrong; I'll sort it out," he threw away her sandwich and stood up for the man entering the room. He was middle aged with greying hair, wearing a pressed navy suite with many medals and crosses attached to the right breast. He was a superior and Crimson snapped to attention, trying to put her hands behind her back but failing due to the cuffs. The superior man sat down opposite her, two others in black suits standing in each corner with guns on their hips, obviously concealed.

General Dwight Eisenhower stared at the Crimson soldier with wide eyes,

"I didn't know it was a woman," he snarled causing Michael to splutter on his smoke and Crimson widened her eyes in shock, not understanding why her being a woman would change anything.

Silence.

"Why the hell is she here?" General Eisenhower said, his lip curling,

"Because I believe she can help us win the war," Michael stated heavily, his tone grand and echoing, "General sir, she was trained to be a soldier and only a soldier; she follows orders to the detail, performs to exhaustion and obeys like a sick fucking dog,"

"Agent McTavish said she was a weapon," Eisenhower commented curtly, "Of what kind? She looks like a normal woman,"

"A HYDRA weapon sir," Michael replied, shrinking away subconsciously, "They trained her, experimented on her and mutated her," Eisenhower leaned back in the chair and folded his hands beneath his chin,

"How about we talk about your capabilities mm? No harm in that," he said with a shrug and Michael narrowed his eyes, "Can you shoot?" Crimson nodded, "Any weapon?" again, nodding, "Anything in particular you're strong at?"

"Sniper, definitely," Michael answered for her, "But records state close quartered gun fire is strong too," Eisenhower gestured for him to continue, "Erm – she was trained under strict HYDRA military guidelines, with very good combat skills as well as the basic standard army tactics," Michael seemed to trail off and Eisenhower clasped his hands on top of the table,

"Miss Edith," his gaze was intense, "I know all of this, our source has been telegramming your files through so I have every detail of your physical capabilities and I must admit, I am very impressed with your performances," this wasn't a particular shock to Crimson, she knew there were spies within HYDRA but she never exposed them because there she was never ordered to, "However, I want to know what this – serum - gave you; what your capabilities are so that we may use them on the front lines, under your consent of course," he added quickly,

"My consent?" Crimson's voice was hushed, speaking the words as if she had never heard them before.

She could not remember what that was. It was something she had certainly not come across recently; things were decided for her, planned in advance, written down on boards around the facility, typed up on to paper and placed in files with her name on them.

"Yes," Eisenhower pushed, "What are your mutations?"

"Teleportation and energy generation," she answered instantly, "Immunity and automatic adaption to temperature," Crimson glanced down to her lap, instantly figuring out how to remove the cuffs and wondering why she hadn't done so earlier,

"Teleportation?" Eisenhower spluttered, obviously not at all keeping up with scientific advances and Crimson nodded shortly,

"Herr Doktor explained it 'shifting from one place to another through time and space'," Crimson explained stonily, "It aided in combat as well as transportation possibilities," Eisenhower was still pink in the face, struggling through the new information like he was wading through thick mud. Michael leaned forwards to take over,

"Think of it as moving from one end of the room to the other in the blink of an eye, completely disappearing and then reappearing milliseconds later," he rubbed his hands together, "Files say she could transport people and objects across vast distances," Eisenhower nodded very deliberately to show he finally understood,

"So if I asked her to fetch my nephew from school and take him home, and then return here; she could do it in five seconds because of this teleportation?" he asked slowly and Michael nodded, and then shook his head,

"She could do it in less - but unfortunately she can't 'teleport' because they put a fucking tracker in her chest that will go off if she does," his notebook was open and his fingers were running over the notes he had taken mere hours ago, "They performed open heart surgery with no morphine and no pain killers, after she went into cardiac arrest. They put too higher pressure into her system during an immunisation," his words stung everybody in the room now and beyond,

"So she can't particularly help us," Eisenhower sighed, lighting a cigar he had pulled from his pocket, "If she can't teleport, then what use is she?" thoroughly slightly upset by the news, "Miss Edith is unstable and could be a potential threat to our soldiers. Agent Fitz, she's on the run from a dangerous Nazi organisation, I can't say that they won't send out people to look for her,"

"The only time she will be a threat to us is if HYDRA even bothers to look for her and if she can fucking walk out of a highly guarded facility, through Belgium and Luxembourg then I think she is fine," Michael retorted, offering Crimson a cigarette however she was not able to light it due to her hands shaking violently, "And you've forgotten one major fact General," Michael lit the cigarette for her and rolled up his own, "Miss Edith is already a soldier, her orders come from her superior command, which at this point is me. And who says that she can't use her shields. We enlist her, train her and use her to win the war!" Michael seemed to be getting rather excited and Crimson swallowed the smoke instead of exhaling it. Eisenhower nodded with a sigh,

"Fitz, I am tired and stressed," he rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I agree that she will join the army but she must complete each and every order we give her, even if it means certain annihilation," Michael and Crimson both nodded, "Miss Edith must only use her other powers if completely necessary and until the tracker is removed I do not expect any 'teleportation'," Crimson sat back in her chair with an air of surprise, "I do not want my men in danger, I do not want her unstable and acting in command when she is not. She will be treated as any man would and if I see a mission fit just for her, I expect no arguments when she is to complete it. A woman joining the army," he puffed out in amazement, "A super strong mutated woman joining my army – what has the world come to?"

"So what? They're letting you enlist? Just like that?" Crimson could hear Josef Margot's grin from down the telephone, "That's bat-shit crazy; I didn't actually think they would agree,"

"I asked things though, is that alright?" she asked and Joseph laughed, "Why you laughing?"

"This is a free country sweetheart, you can do what you want," he chuckled and Michael, who was sitting next to her in General Eisenhower's office while she made the call, grinned widely at the sound of his employer's booming laugh, "However, it depends on what terms you set down,"

"I said I want to be safe," she explained nervously, "I said them that I would need triple dose of morphine and that my files were hide," Michael sighed at this,

"Updating and keeping your files confidential is a lengthy process Edith," Crimson's shoulders dropped, slouching into the chair and holding out her hand to where Michael was taking out a cigarette,

"You know these cause lung disease," he commented, although giving her one and lighting it,

"I am immune," she pointed to her chest and Michael flinched at her words, deciding against having his own cigarette, "They said I choose a new name, but that they would build a 'patchy history' for me," she continued on to Josef,

"What the fuck do they mean, 'patchy history'?" Josef exclaimed in distress and Crimson huffed out, not happy with what they said either,

"I was born in America, trained in a military school in Canada and did in heavyweight boxing as a hobby," she repeated what Finley McTavish had told her not half an hour ago, the man himself entering the room with a glass of scotch,

"Bullshit," Josef swore gingerly, spitting down the phone and Crimson turned to Finley as he sat on the sofa next to Michael, setting down a clean file with a blank name tag,

"Josef does not like your story," she informed him and Finley grinned, shrugging his shoulders and taking out a smart fountain pen,

"Unless he's got any big ideas, he better butt out of it," he chuckled, "Come up with any names yet?"

Crimson shook her head, going back to hearing Joseph make up a story about her,

"You could be a POW from Dunkirk, settles your military knowledge -," Josef tried but Crimson stopped him,

"The British did not let woman on front lines," she informed him and he swore down the receiver, but Michael's head perked up,

"How about you were living in Belgium and you were taken by the Germans to be trained as an assassin -," Josef tried again, obviously very excited about making up a story,

"No German stories Joe," Finley groaned, "Too suspicious, she could be labelled as a spy," and Josef agreed when Crimson relayed the information. Michael suddenly snatched the pen from Finley's fingers and hastily beginning to fill in the blank boxes on the file,

"You were born in Dover 1917," he narrated as he wrote, "Your family migrated to Washington in 1925, first job was a librarian and then trained up in the SAC, Specialised Army Corps in 1935 –completely made up; and then joined the Airborne," Michael concluded, Crimson repeating his words for Joseph to hear and from the silence at the end of the receiver, she knew the story was final,

"Private Evelyn Phillips," Finley said, startling the two others and he flushed scarlet, "I think Evelyn suites you, or Eve; depends if you like nicknames or not," Crimson slowly nodded her head but her confusion was with something else, something Michael had said,

"What is Airborne?" she asked Josef, watching Finley neatly write down the fake name on the front of the file and then proceed to fill in her medical details, which they had decided were based on her real identity,

"Soldiers that jump out of planes with sheets on their heads," he joked and Crimson exhaled in frustration, "Alright, they are Paratroopers trained to take the enemy from within, the government is trying them out and I assume Michael wants you to go there," Crimson nodded, blushing when she realised that Josef could not see her,

"Yeah, they don't teach them how to parachute in the SAC," Michael grinned, snatching the pen off Finley and flicking him on the head with it, "Does she look she weighs 110 pounds? You moron, put down a real weight," Finley merely grumbled in response,

"Look, Edith," Josef sighed, "I have to go, duty calls but I'll call you in a couple of months to see how you're doing and I'll keep Michael over in America to keep tabs on you," he explained and Crimson could hear voices on the other end of the phone,

"Okay," she agreed to his terms, "But it is Evelyn now, Private Phillips; Mr McTavish thought it," she smiled at the name, already becoming fond of it. There was a grunt in reply and the receiver clicked off, Crimson moving the wooden chair closer to where Finley and Michael were arguing over her marital status.

She smiled.

Evelyn Phillips. A Private in the world of men, going to fight alongside a country she was born to follow. She was worried yes; of the days when her vision blurred and turned red, when someone would anger her in some way and then she would not be able to control her hands or her strength. She was a woman; she was bound to get trodden on, told she couldn't fight, that she was a pansy and that she should be at home with the other women, pining after a lost soldier lover.

"What if I cannot control myself?" she whispered suddenly and Michael's hands instantly encased hers,

"Evelyn, as we're supposed to call you now," he tried to smile but her downcast eyes prevented her from returning it, "We'll help you; I'll help you ease the nightmares and follow the right orders…," Michael looked expectantly at Finley, Evelyn still staring down at her lap,

"And I'll show you how to pretend to out of breath when you run, and when you do drills, I'll show you how to go easy on the others," Finley continued cheerily, "Can't have them getting jealous of our special soldier now do we?" Evelyn managed to smile at his tone and she watched him stand,

"Right, you go and make up a background for the SAC," Michael ordered, "And we'll find some accommodation for you," he turned to Evelyn, finding her stood to attention with her arms straight at her sides, "God fucking damnit Eve, we're not in the army yet, at ease," he hissed, running a hand through his hair. Finley scooped up the file and rushed out, bidding them goodnight.

Evelyn's shoulders relaxed once more as he left the room and she blew out a short breath,

"Sorry," she rubbed her right elbow and Michael rolled his eyes,

"We'll deal with that first, you can't keep assuming orders will come from me or your handler; you have to obey your commanding officer and he could be a complete stranger," he told her firmly, "The front lines are unpredictable, you might be answering to one person and following another, then they both get shot and you have to receive orders from a different guy," he picked up his coat and beckoned her forward, lighting a cigarette and shoving it into her fingers, "The higher ranking officers will try and take you out of the Airborne with every little thing wrong you do, they will prevent any promotions and constantly demoralise you -," Evelyn hissed as she strode next to him, exiting the grey building and opening the door to the car they had arrived in,

"I executed those who touched," she growled and Michael patted her knee with an equally grim expression,

"That's great, but you can't shoot your commanding officer because he says something mean about your - assets," Michael saw her eyes dart down to her chest, turning slightly pink, "it's actually quite handy that your more petite,"

"They told me it was easier," she was again reminded of Schmidt's pinched face and of how his black eyes looked her over once, the first time she was nude before him and he had said that she would do perfectly.

"He saw you naked?" Michael spat, leaning his head back against the seat in disgust,

"Evaluations required nudity for accuracy, I was not given chance to care," No one had said anything about her body, except for her wide hips, saying that she would have been a good mother.

"Well, I suppose that's a good thing seeing as you won't get special showers or a separate room to get dressed in, the men'll just have to get used to it," Michael said lowly, Evelyn snuffing out her cigarette and stretching her legs out, "You'll have to be very careful around them Eve, the officers would jump at the chance to penalise you for 'fraternising'," he informed her and to his surprise, Evelyn let out a breathy laugh, her eyes suddenly shining,

"I cannot bear child remember?" she explained, rather roughly for Michael's liking and he recoiled visibly, nodding grimly, "It would be inconvenient should I conceive or have menstrual cycle," she saw him redden at the words,

"Unfortunately, that will increase your chance of enlistment," he said mournfully, "Jesus, I've always wanted kids and I know I can; you have no choice," Evelyn coughed quietly and shrugged,

"I have no time think about family," she informed him,

"I guess you had all chances of a future taken away from you huh?" Michael was sympathetic and all Evelyn could do was nod tearfully, not even understanding why she was upset. Children, a family, a husband and love was extinguished from her system the first time a guard had visited her; Schmidt had removed all hope for a normal future in a small house in the country with a partner and a garden and horses and roses. It was a vision that plagued her dreams, of a man who held her out of love and adoration, of a farm house with stables, of a meadow full of wildflowers and corn, of a life without HYDRA and her mutations.

Evelyn didn't know she was weeping until Michael sat her down in his kitchen with a glass of whiskey and a box of tissues.