Washington D.C. 2014.
I laughed as Steve sipped the coffee I'd brought him and then proceeded to grimace heavily before reluctantly swallowing. He pushed the mug away and chose to drink the glass of water on our table instead.
"That. Is disgusting. What on earth is it?" he questioned as I rolled my eyes at his statement.
"First, it's not disgusting. It's the best hot caffeinated drink money can buy. Secondly a Caramel Macchiato will kick the ass off any coffee from the forties."
"Coffee in the forties was great. Just coffee and hot water, keeping it nice and simple." He retorted, smiling as I took my turn to grimace whilst sipping my own sweet drink.
"It's like looking into the black abyss, contained in a cup." Steve laughed again, attracting looks from a few women in running gear and perfectly intact makeup who were sat drinking flat whites across the café from us. My phone suddenly buzzed in my pocket and after looking at the screen, I gulped down the rest of my drink before rising from my chair.
"I've got to go."
"Do we have an assignment?" Steve questioned, fumbling for his own phone, furrowing his eyebrows when he saw the blank screen. I shook my head as I stuffed my own back into my jacket pocket and pulled out my car keys.
"No. It's personal stuff." Steve got to his feet and followed me out of the café.
"Personal?"
"Yeah, you know. Personal stuff that exists outside of work. SHIELD isn't my entire life, you know." Steve held his hands up in surrender as we waited for a couple of cars to pass us so we could cross the street.
"I think I'll go for a run." Steve commented as I headed to my car.
"Again? Steve, all you do is run. It's not good for a fella of your age." I smiled as I slid into my car and Steve tutted. He leant onto the roof, peering curiously into the interior, paying no attention at all to what he was looking at.
"There's this other guy. He's always there too. He's a good lap marker. I lapped him three times last week. Plus, I think he knows when I'm there. He always runs faster."
"Well, you are an excellent motivator." I said as I started the engine.
"Maybe he's scared of me?" Steve questioned. I smiled sympathetically.
"I doubt it. Who could ever fear a golden retriever running through the park?"
"What?" He questioned and I laughed at the confusion on his face before pulling away and joining the flow of traffic.
I didn't like leaving my car in such a shady end of town but my contact had been specific about where I was to meet him and he wasn't the type that you messed around. I pulled my coat up around my neck as I locked the Maserati and stuffed my keys into the pocket. The events in New York had resulted in me being more recognisable, something I wasn't used to. The last thing I needed was to be seen going into a Russian bar known to frequent the mafia and various other organised crime gangs.
Few people looked up as the door swung shut against the metal security door. They were each preoccupied with their own dodgy dealings. The barman slung a dirty rag over his shoulder as I approached and slipped him the small piece of paper I concealed in my pocket.
"Vniz." He gestured with his head, I nodded with thanks and stepped down into the basement of the bar. This time everyone looked up, four men were sat round a table playing poker. They each sported utterly unreadable expressions, though they scanned me from head to foot, I felt much more comfortable here than I had anywhere else in recent times.
"I ya ozhidal, chto eto russkuyu reletku." I smirked, the man at the head of the table got up.
"Do you gamble?" he asked, his thick accent unmistakeable.
"Only with my life." The men laughed and turned their attention back to the game as the man circled the table and escorted me away, to two old chairs kept in the shadows.
"Skorpion." He said simply.
"Yuri. It's been a long time." He smiled, wrapped me into a tight hug and dropped his weight into the chair, lighting a cigar. He was a tall man, but large as well. He wasn't physically agile but his brain was where the real secrets lied. He had taken me in as a teenager, fresh out of Belarus and trying to find my way in Russia. I'd taken a chance and explained my situation to him, luckily, he had been one of those from the inside who had helped to topple the Soviet regime and he was all too happy to help me exact my revenge. He had unintentionally and unexpectedly become the closest thing I had to a father figure and even when SHIELD had recruited me, we had kept in close contact. I examined the wooden box his cigars were kept in before sitting opposite him.
"Cuban?" I questioned, glancing at it.
"Of course," he smiled, "Dominicans are no fun." He inhaled deeply before his expression turned darker. "I didn't call you for a friendly catch up." He said quietly and I felt nerves begin to stir in the pit of my stomach.
"I didn't think you would have. So, what tragedy is about to befall me?" He inhaled again and got up, pouring two tumblers of richly coloured whisky. He handed me one and I threw it back quickly, Yuri wasn't the type to beat around the bush.
"He's back." I felt the whisky churn in my stomach.
"Are you sure?" Yuri nodded as he handed me another glass, which I took gratefully.
"My contacts in Siberia assured me. He's been spotted again, they trailed a private convoy to the eastern seaboard but lost sight at port. That's all we know."
"Is he hunting me?" I questioned quietly.
"I can't be sure. But I don't think it's a coincidence that it's only been two years since New York. Your face was all over news screens. If they hadn't found you before, they know where you are now." I nodded in understanding. I'd pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind that HYDRA would somehow find me after all these years. I'd been stupid and careless to think that I was safe working for SHIELD. Knowing that they were bringing their weapon with them, the soldier from my nightmares, made me even more nervous. For so long, I'd been at the top of my game. But I'd done my research on the mystery that was the Winter Soldier long ago, a fat manila folder in my apartment was stuffed with every bit of information I'd been able to find. Accredited with over a dozen assassinations in the past fifty years, and he'd been about my age now when I was still in Belarus. Yet each of the grainy, half-cocked images that came with the intelligence showed a man who appeared to defy the inevitable process of ageing. Most intelligence services denied he even existed, whether it was out of fear was unclear. I had never approached the subject with SHIELD, but Nat knew of him. She bore a scar from a wound he had inflicted whilst she'd been on assignment in Odessa, before we'd both joined SHIELD. Part of me had wondered if they'd gone after her thinking she was me but I'd kept that to myself. He was a ghost, that much was true, and when we had all lived in the shadows that would have been fine. But Steve had been right, I couldn't live there anymore. I pulled myself from my thoughts to meet the concerned face of Yuri.
"Thank you, Yuri." I whispered quietly, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. The wheezing that accompanied each of his breaths made me unsettled.
"Are you okay?" I questioned. He nodded as he clutched my hand, disregarding my question.
"Be careful, malen'kiy." I smiled.
"I'm not eighteen anymore." He kept a firm grip on my hand, almost examining my face as if he was trying to remember every detail of it.
"To me you are. To me you are still that tiny malnourished girl I found shivering in the snow." I gave his hand an encouraging squeeze before I got to my feet and quickly left the bar.
My new apartment was small to say the least. The kitchen, dining room and living room where all one open – and yet still compact- space. The bathroom was narrow enough that I could touch both walls with each hand and my bedroom held the double bed I slept in and little else.
I slid the deadbolt across the doorframe as I dropped my bag at my feet. Yuri's words had been playing over in my head on the drive from the bar and back to my building. If the Winter Soldier really was in D.C then I was in trouble. I couldn't go underground anymore but I found myself pacing my apartment regardless. I needed to do something. Something not drastic enough that it might cause concern or suspicion but something that might give me the vital head start I would need when he would inevitably show up. I didn't need people looking to closely into my past. Not even Fury knew the whole backstory and I wanted it to stay that way.
It came to me as I splashed cold water in my face at the kitchen sink. Long strands of my hair stuck to the damp skin and I realised I had never really had it cut. Just the required trim every few months. I quickly rummaged in my draw for the sharpest knife I had and in one swift movement I'd wrapped my hair into a tight twist and sliced through it. I dropped the remnants in the sink and shook my head as the roughly cut strands fell to just under my jawline. I quickly went into the bathroom and examined my reflection. My features looked more pronounced, my jaw more prominent against my shorter hair. There would be no more occasions were my hair would get caught on the zip to my suit, or blow in front of my vision, the more I looked at it, the more I liked it. I knew that if it came down to it, I would have to fight the soldier from my nightmares, there was no other way around it. I had not been raised to run away from a fight.
I'd been weak as a child and he'd had the advantage over me but not anymore. When I get the chance, I'll kill him.
**Translations
"Down there."
"And I half expected it to be Russian Roulette." **