Chapter Twenty-Nine
✭
"HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed."
"Why do you think we're in this cave?" Nick Fury. "I noticed."
Somehow, the old bastard was still alive.
"How many paid the price before you did?"
The revelation had both inspired and sombered Steve. Gladdened, because he and his team were no longer alone in this fight. Grave, because it meant Fury had enough foresight to plan for his survival. The fact that the former director still thought that SHIELD was worth saving was beyond Steve, who'd seen what the organization had become.
The SSR had come a long way since the 1940's. Unfortunately, the system had a tumor, too big to remove and keep the organism alive afterwards.
HYDRA had slowly been killing SHIELD from the inside. Now it was time to put it down. All of it.
That seemed to humble Fury, who glanced to either side of him. To Maria Hill, his trusted lieutenant; to Natasha, his best asset and one-time protégé. Behind Steve stood Sam, his arms crossed, watching this conversation play out like a tennis match, silent and serious. Steve felt bad that he had to be the outside in all this, but if Sam had a say in SHIELD's future, he would listen. Sam had just as much a say as anyone else now.
The only others in the room were a few doctors; SHIELD medics, perhaps, patching up Natasha and keeping an eye on Fury's vitals. The man had only just recently been stabilized; it wouldn't take much stress to put the director back into the hands of Death again.
They were hidden deep within the sublevels of a decommissioned dam, in a dried-up delta off the main Potomac river. It was cold and damp down here, with faulty electricity and absolutely no heating system; hardly comfy, but it was shielded by several hundred tons of concrete and provided ample protection from HYDRA's radar and satellites. Apparently, this was where Fury and his small task force of agents, technicians and doctors. Little more than a skeleton crew, they were the only ones Fury trusted to be SHIELD anymore.
Whatever was left of it.
At last, Fury bowed his head in defeat, and murmured, "I didn't know about Barnes or Fletcher."
"Even if you had, would you have told me?" Steve was not mollified and didn't alter his cold tone. "Or would you have compartmentalized that, too?"
"It's a little more complicated than —"
"Don't start that bullshit with me," Steve cut him off, giving one good shake of his head. "That won't work, not anymore. Full transparency from now on. What did you know?"
Fury glared at him for a long moment, dim light reflected in his dark eye. He seemed halfway convinced not to answer at all, perhaps out of spite, or offense at being spoken to in such a way. Yet, at last, he sighed, shoulders sinking beneath the blanket over his shoulders. "Officially, the Winter Soldier was a ghost. Our first record of his actions was JFK's assassination; but we had no evidence of him besides conspiracy theories and rumors.
"And the public wanted blood." Fury shrugged casually, and Steve had to remember that this was before Fury's time in SHIELD. "So, SHIELD threw Oswald to the wolves and let them tear him apart. Those in charge at the time had already suspected him of conspiring with the Russians, so it worked well for us. But we never found anything more on the Winter Soldier. I suspect, however, that he may have been active before that point. And continued to be such afterwards."
"So, you covered it up. All those murders. All those accidents."
"Yes," Fury closed his eye and shook his head. "That was before my time. I continued the tradition simply… well, it was the simplest choice. And it was easier to let the public decide for themselves what they wanted to do, then to let them sit and fester with half-truths and uncertainties. What could we tell them, that we suspected some sort of supernatural force to be behind these murders?
"A man so good that we, the premier security force on the entire world, can't get our hands on?" Nick Fury scoffed at the notion, took a sip of water to clear his throat. Took a deep breath. "We'd look like fools. And it'd just give our enemies more confidence to act against the will of freedom and democracy. So instead we cracked down on any insurgency, anything that might prove to be a problem in the future. To prevent another Winter Soldier from happening."
"And as a result, you became the very thing you tried to stop." And may have inadvertently helped create another one.
Fury shrugged, and the shadows under his eyes never looked deeper. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I agreed with Pierce on so many things. In another universe, I wonder if I might've ended up just like him."
"Well, you didn't in this one," Steve found a chair and sat in front of the table, placing his hands on top. "Is that all you know about the Winter Soldier? Is there any way to stop him?"
"Stop him?" Fury chuckled at the thought. "I won't lie to you, Rogers, I've never been more scared in my life than when I saw him standing right in front of my windshield. Whatever the Winter Soldier used to be, its not him anymore. The same could be said for Fletcher, I'm afraid."
"But there has to be something —"
"What do you want me to say, Rogers?" Fury demanded, losing patience with him. "That there's some magic switch, some secret off-button that HYDRA left in their little brainwashed super soldiers? They have no interest in who their assets used to be. They would've erased whatever was left of them. If there is a way to bring them back, then I don't know what it is. And we don't have the time to go looking for one."
"We have a narrow window for this operation to work," Natasha added, throwing Steve a sympathetic look for disagreeing with him. She tapped the tabletop with her finger. "There's a good chance the Winter Soldier will be there. Along with… Mia." Nat made a face, glancing away from Steve. "You'll have to consider the possibility that in order to stop them, you'll have to —"
Steve realized what she was implying and cut her off. "It won't come to that."
Natasha threw him a reproachful look. "Steve —"
He abruptly stood up again, not willing to give that line of thought another second. He wasn't going to kill Bucky. Not Mia. Not if he could avoid it. "The fact remains, the system that created him, we're finishing it."
Besides, if anyone was going to fight the Winter Soldier, and Mia, it would be him. Should be him. Everyone else needed to focus on the more important problem: "SHIELD, HYDRA… it all goes."
"He's right." Maria Hill said, earning a surprised look from Fury. Surprised, and perhaps a little betrayed. She cut her boss a single nod; small, but sure. She understood what it would mean for them. What it would mean for herself. A career SHIELD agent. Her entire livelihood, gone. Her reputation would be ruined. She likely might never be hired by another legitimate organization again.
Fury leaned back, frowning. He glanced at Natasha, who met his gaze but offered no word. She, too, would suffer for SHIELD's fall. A Russian traitor whose new patrons would be razed to the ground; Natasha would have no home after this, either. Nothing to protect her. No allies to hide behind.
Her history, ammunition for anyone and everyone who wanted to do her harm.
But it was still the right thing to do.
~o~
They waited in the underground hangar bay.
Standing inside IN-01, amongst seasoned HYDRA agents, they were left unseen and unnoticed. The command center was alive with activity, as the counter drew closer and closer to launch second. Only thirty minutes left.
No one spoke to them. The Asset did not speak in return. He had his orders, and only Pierce could alter them — right now, the Secretary was likely greeting the incoming heads of the World Security Council. So far, no trouble had arisen; the Asset had no inclination for one or the other; he just knew his mission, Captain America, would likely die today.
And if not today, then another.
Aside from the lights of the consoles and from the hangar bay outside the windows, the command center was dimly lit. It was a sunny day outside — beautiful, really, but completely beyond those still waiting underneath the river. The Asset was not one to appreciate such a thing, anyways. He found himself mildly annoyed by the noise and sensations; the over-warm air, the humming of computer fans, the air alive with mutterings and orders; an AI that called out status updates at regular intervals. Busy, dark, and noisy. It had a claustrophobic air to it.
The soldatka waited quietly beside him. The Asset felt his eyes draw once more towards the compass tied to her shoulder strap. He had initially thought it to be an inconsequential detail, but now the presence… nagged at him.
Recognize it? You should. Strange words echoed in his head. The soldatka's voice but not, at the same time. Why would she say that?
How did he forget?
Unable to resist the curiosity, some vague thought still begging to be explored, the Asset reached open and opened small compact. He frowned to himself, disappointed and bewildered by it. For some reason, he'd been expecting to see a photo of a woman stuck on the inside of the cap… but he had no idea where he ever got that notion from.
"Is there a problem?" the soldatka asked, blinking at him in confusion. She didn't move or brush him away, stood very still while the Asset studied the object.
Snapping the compass shut, the Asset withdrew forthright. Quickly shoving all errant and unwanted thoughts from his mind, he muttered, "No. Carry on."
He tried to ignore the stare she held on him afterwards.
Just then, a voice began echoing over every PA system, every speaker and comm unit; "Attention all SHIELD agents… this is Steve Rogers."
Everyone went still, shocked. Even the Asset and the girl, who exchanged sharp looks. The target. He was speaking.
"You've heard a lot about me these last few days. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think its time you knew the truth. SHIELD is not what we thought it was. It's been taken over by HYDRA."
The agents in the command center exchanged mildly amused looks, a scattering of chuckles, as if sharing in a secret joke. Everyone in here was already in on the take. Nothing could stop them now.
"Alexander Pierce is their leader. The STRIKE and Insight crew are HYDRA as well." All of a sudden, those smiles and laughter disappeared. The command center went completely silent, faces drawn ashen. All except the Asset and the girl, who observed the rest with no expression. "I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you."
Beneath the announcement, a burst of chatter hit every ear piece of every HYDRA agent in the complex. Bodies flinched, others stood up, or sat down. A voice — Rumlow's — ordering his STRIKE team to the top of the Triskelion, where the meeting was being held. He and another group, towards SHIELD's main control room; the orders were clear. Eliminate anyone who isn't HYDRA. Ensure the launch of Project Insight above all else.
"They almost have what they want." Steve Rogers continued. Despite the rising chaos all around them, his voice was the one calm constant. "Absolute control. They shot Nick Fury. And it won't end there. If you launch those helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone who stands in their way. Unless we stop them. I know I'm asking a lot."
An alert flashed across the screens on the command center. Bay doors opening. Initiate launch.
Gunfire rang out outside. Agents rushed to the windows to look out, seeing a force of HYDRA soldiers taking out the SHIELD agents guarding the helicarrier gangway. Beyond that, the bay operating station was under fire; the attempt to keep the bay doors shut had failed.
Project Insight was well under way.
"The price of freedom is high," said Captain America. "But it always has been. And it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not.
Next to him, the soldatka stiffened. The Asset glanced over, frowning at her pale face. "What's wrong?"
"N-nothing…" The soldatka just shook her head. "Those words just sounded familiar, that's all…"
The Asset opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a voice ringing in both their ears. "All units, high alert. Captain America has been spotted leaving the Triskelion. I repeat, all units converge on Hangars Alpha through Charlie — eliminate Captain America, and his allies, at all costs."
Together, the Asset and the girl left the command center, crossing along the helicarrier corridor. HYDRA agents rushed in and out on either side. The soldatka began turning towards the hangar bay doors. Above them, sirens were ringing everywhere — both the helicarriers preparing to launch, and an intruder alert sounding off. But the Asset grabbed her arm, pointed towards the way of the flight deck instead.
"What are we doing?" she asked, confused.
"Taking a short-cut."
It was the truth, in a way. The Winter Soldier knew where Captain America was headed. The helicarriers were his target. Project Inside was his target.
So they were going to beat him to it.
Bright blue sky shone down from above, the hangar doors creaking open. River water rained in, and a great roar filled the air — powerful, magnificent, nearly deafening, as a dozen engines came to life and began lifting the helicarriers into the air. The ascent seemed slow, but the power was immense; the force seemed to force them down, the floor rocked to and fro. But their pace was measured and even, not easy to unbalance.
They were ready when they stepped onto the flight deck, and saw the pilots running for their jets.
The few true SHIELD agents, the ones who never knew about HYDRA, who'd been emboldened by Captain America's speech, had risen to the challenge. Even aboard a ship where they were so greatly outnumbered, outmatched, they chose to fight anyways.
They didn't stand a chance.
It was, perhaps, cruelly amusing how easily the pilots and flight technicians were so easily taken care of. The Asset, armed with an RPG, took out one quinjet before a rebellious pilot team could hijack it. The soldatka, with a pistol and a grenade, shot one pilot who attempted to charge them; the grenade rolled under another quinjet and blew off one wing, and the man trying to direct it into take-off.
Behind the two came a small army of HYDRA soldiers and pilots. They rushed in to take command of the remaining quinjets still standing. More men and women fell, from both sides. But the Asset and the girl was quite untouchable.
As the Asset mowed down a small team of technicians with a machine pistol — with automatic fire and a large magazine, it managed to fire dozens of rounds in a short moment. At the same time, the soldatka stood at his back, shield up to defend against returning fire from the opposite direction.
SHIELD pilots had been wise in arming themselves — but not wise enough to think past a vibranium shield. The Asset whirled around and fired upon them as well; he and the soldatka rotating positions, remaining back-to-back.
A technician scrambled for the open bay doors of a quinjet. The soldatka threw her shield; it bounced off the wing and struck the technician before he could lay a foot on the gangplank.
"IN-03 is down," the comms announced.
"Already?" a pilot demanded afterwards. Two more still left.
The Asset looked up — the helicarriers had now reached three thousand feet. Operational height. Until now, the Asset hadn't realized how high they had flown over Washington DC. The river remained below them; the helicarriers didn't have to go anywhere before they could start crossing people off the list.
The entire city and the great river stretched out below. The Atlantic lied beyond, a deep, glittering blue. The horizon was white and hazy, and the sun gleamed off every surface. Between the gunfire, the wind, and the sound of engines buzzing by, it was almost… serene. The smooth ascent of the helicarriers had given the sensation that they were slowly rising to heaven.
If only it wasn't the furthest from the truth.
The other two helicarriers were slightly below — from there, the Asset witnessed as other quinjets took off the other flight decks across helicarriers; some were SHIELD. Others were HYDRA. Right before them, an intense dogfight took place as identical ships went to battle. It was impossible to tell who was on whose side. Only the pilots themselves seemed to know, perhaps.
But it was a sign of one certain thing.
Captain America was indeed not alone.
One quinjet, shot down by another, went screaming past overhead. It smashed onto the deck, taking out another ship just as a team of HYDRA pilots had boarded.
As the Asset and the girl continued down the deck, clearing out SHIELD agents as fast as they could, another aircraft flew above. Only it wasn't an aircraft. It was a man with a set of wings.
"Incoming!" a voice yelled, right before the winged man took out a HYDRA quinjet with a pair of submachine guns. It seemed he could fly both with and without the use of his arms. The guns of the helicarrier turned on him, but the winged man was too agile — soaring up and away before any shot could hit him.
The Asset watched as the winged man dived out of sight, going below the helicarrier. That was going to be a problem.
"IN-01 is down," another announcement. The Asset cut a look at the girl. There was only one place left for Captain America to go.
The nearest quinjet was fifty feet away. Someone was already boarding it.
The soldatka entered from the rear. The Asset attacked from the front; without waiting, the Asset reached down, ripped off the side windshield, and yanked the pilot out from his seat. Sent him flying across the flight deck.
The fact that it was a HYDRA pilot did not concern the Asset. The man should be thankful he was still alive.
His copilot wasn't so lucky. As the Asset slipped into the cockpit from its new, improvised entrance, he found the body of another pilot on the floor behind him. The soldatka¸ holstering her pistol and kicking the body aside. She grabbed the overhead railing as the Asset took reign and guided the quinjet up into the air.
Flying was one thing; dodging both enemy aircraft and friendly fire was another. The Asset banked hard to the left to avoid incoming fire from another jet, then rolled as IN-02 fired upon them. It seemed the helicarriers fired upon all the quinjets seemingly indiscriminately. Perhaps it didn't matter if they killed one of their own so long as they killed the enemy, too.
Unlike the pilot chatter on the comms, the Asset didn't panic; as cool and controlled as ever, he deftly maneuvered the quinjet through fierce and roiling air battle.
The quinjets went at each other and the helicarriers with an incredible passion. The flight decks of all three helicarriers were being torn to shreds by various aircraft as they each tried to defend their fellow men taking off and joining the battle.
It brought to him a strange… sensation of the familiar. That such a dogfight had been something he might've seen before. But the aircraft was wrong. The land, the people, the sounds… all wrong.
The Asset shook his head. It didn't matter.
He had no idea who was who, and fired back when another quinjet got in the way of his landing upon IN-02. It might've been HYDRA, but he didn't care.
All that mattered was the mission.
Fire from below. The Asset struggled to maintain control of the quinjet, and found the landing gears jammed when he tried to activate them. Crash landing it was.
"Hold tight," he ordered to the soldatka behind him, and slammed the yoke forward — driving the quinjet straight into the deck and taking out the three SHIELD soldiers firing upon them. He barely heard their screams over the screech of metal grinding and engines sputtering and dying.
The landing was, least to say, a little rough. Nevertheless, both of them were at the ready when they jumped out the rear. This flight deck was nearly a smoking ruin — but the helicarriers guns were all operational, which meant it was the last ship standing to initiate Project Insight. Captain America was bound to find his way aboard somehow —
A shriek overhead.
A pair of wings, an angel. Now carrying an extra passenger.
Captain America and his winged friend had just landed — the same winged one from the causeway, the Asset thought, then grew confused. What causeway?
It halted his line of thought momentarily. He nearly missed the opportune moment; but he was lucky. Captain America hadn't spotted either the Asset or the girl; at least, he didn't until the Asset charged out from past a stack of crates, tackled the super soldier, and sent him flying over the edge of the helicarriers.
"Hey!" the winged man shouted, turning to race after his fallen friend, about to take flight once more. But the soldatka was already on top of him.
Falcon, read the painted words on the suit as Amelia grabbed his arm, jerked him back and delivered a sharp punch to his sternum. The Falcon recoiled, coughing, and only barely managed to block the next strike with his forearm. The blow was punishingly strong and nearly knocked him onto his knees.
When he realized who it was that had attacked him, the Falcon groaned, "Oh, not again!"
The dread on his face grew tenfold when he saw the Winter Soldier turn towards him; apparently the weaker threat to be killed off quickly. Already thinking of a million curse words, the Falcon didn't have time to consider how screwed he was until the soldatka swung her shield. The impact knocked him backwards — and into thin air.
Which, luckily, was just where the Falcon wanted to be.
Wings expanded once again, he pulled out the automatic submachine guns again — fired upon both the Asset before he could chase after Captain America, who had just barely managed to catch the edge of the helicarrier's wing. As the super soldier recovered and started racing along a catwalk, the Asset ducked at bullets rained down — the soldatka diving in front of him with her shield, protecting him with covering fire.
The Falcon continued to fire until taking a sudden dive — an enemy quinjet had turned their attention on him and begun to fire.
The Asset looked out from behind the girl's shield as the winged man swooped and soared, performing an aerial dance as he played the bigger, slower aircraft like a fiddle.
An excellent distraction. And one less thing to worry about.
With a jerk of his head, the Asset signaled for the soldatka to follow. He knew where Captain America was going.
~o~
When Captain America dropped into the data post, the Asset was waiting for him.
Captain America came to an abrupt stop on the catwalk; there was only one way forward, and one way back. In order to reach the ship's data column, he'd have to get around the Asset somehow.
Or through him.
Instead, he spoke. "People are gonna die, Buck. I can't let that happen."
No reaction. No response to the name.
Just beyond the windows the air battle continued. The two men stood in the center of what appeared to be a giant glass bowl set at the base of the helicarriers. The quinjet dogfight continued with fury, although there were notably less of them now. It only made the Falcon's job harder, as he became much more noticeable with fewer combatants on the field. He did his best to be a distraction, and keep any HYDRA pilots from attacking the ship's hull — and Captain America — directly.
A creak behind him. Captain America looked around, and shifted uncertainly when the soldatka appeared on the steps behind him. She showed no recognition, either, no hesitation. They had both been waiting.
Now he was trapped between them, on a catwalk with no other exit.
Captain America turned back to the man who, in another time, had been his friend. He wavered slightly, as the truth of the situation finally dawned upon him. He whispered, "Please don't make me do this."
The Asset didn't break his gaze.
So this was it.
For a long second, the two just stood and watched each other. Waiting for the other to make the first move.
In the end, it was the soldatka who attacked first.
Captain America didn't see her attack, but he heard her coming, and reacted instantly. Spun around and took the brunt of her attack on his shield. Metal clanged on metal like gongs, ringing amplified by the rounded glass surrounding them. Captain America retaliated by kicked her backwards, strong enough to send her flying back several feet — only to whip around again to throw his shield at the incoming Winter Soldier, who'd taken the distraction as an opportunity to charge.
The Asset raised his metal prosthetic and the shield glanced off it, leaving him unharmed. Captain America didn't notice the gun in his fist until after the shield had returned to his hands.
He lifted it just in time to deflect the incoming fire. At the same time, a blow from behind caught him by surprise. The soldatka, driving her foot into the back of his knee.
Captain America didn't drop completely, and raised his shield overhead to take the Asset's following slam. He spun to face the soldatka, grabbing her wrist before she could fire the pistol she'd just withdrawn. Her twisted her arm hard, harder, until bone cracked. Steve hated the sound of it, but couldn't let her fire. At last, he slammed her arm against the catwalk's railing — she cried out, and the gun fell from her hand.
In his attempt to disarm the girl, Captain America had opened himself to the Asset's attack; too focused on her, he didn't have his shield angled correctly, and gasped as a gunshot rang out, a sudden burning in his side. He'd been shot.
It was only a flesh wound, unfortunately, not penetrating. Captain America slammed his shield and sent the Asset flying back, crashing against the column — his goal.
The Captain tried to rush forward, but a hand grabbed his wrist and yanked backwards. Captain America stumbled only barely pulled back before the soldatka could strike his head with the edge of her shield. Sparks flew as she swiped again and he deflected it with his own vibranium. Giant metal disks, whistling in the air. By then, the Asset was back on his feet. He'd withdrawn a knife, and it might've struck its target — if two shields, locked together, hadn't suddenly gotten in the way.
It was a hectic to and fro as Captain America spun back and forth, fending off attacks from either side. A knife here, a strike there, a few close ones with a pistol. He gave as good as he got, and ultimately had to take one blow in order to avoid a worse one from another.
They nearly had him pinned against the railing at one point, on his knees, before Captain America kicked out hard — and sent the soldatka flipping over the other end in a cry of surprise.
Captain America looked momentarily relieved when she was removed from the fight. That relief disappeared quickly when the Asset retaliated.
Both hands, strike of the knife. Would've ended up in his sternum had the Captain not lifted his shield. The knife bounced off once. The Asset followed up with a kick to the knee to prevent the other man from rising, but it didn't work. The Asset took a punch, then another, failed a third strike, then took the shield on the chin. The blow momentarily stunned him, sending the Asset flying onto his back, on the small circular catwalk around the main column.
By the time he'd recovered, Captain America was about to replace a computer chip in the data array.
The last one.
The Asset rose to his feet. The chip was inches away from insertion.
Neither of them noticed the flaming quinjet spiraling right for them.
The impact knocked both Captain America and the Asset off their feet. The chip went flying past the side, down into the floor below. An explosion followed, sending heated air and debris through the chamber.
A scream rang out.
In a brief moment of mutual surprise, the two men exchanged a look. Neither of them had made that sound.
The Asset, closer to the edge, looked down.
Below them, the glass shield had cracked open. Smoke and fire filled the room, metal bent and twisted, collapsed across the new hole below them. Cold wind rushed in, providing momentarily relief to the choking smoke filling the tight area. The quinjet had only glanced off the side of the chamber before crashing into the river below, but that had been enough. It had smashed through the glass, the scaffolding, and part of the main support structure.
And beneath it all, the soldatka. She had been climbing up the column, attempting to rejoin the fight, when the quinjet hit. The impact had thrown her off again, and she'd rolled over just in time to avoid getting crushed by fallen support beams. Her shield had protected her from the worst of the impact, but it couldn't protect her from the smoke, or the glass cracking beneath her.
And only thirty feet away from her lied the computer chip. A miracle it, too, hadn't fallen out of the giant, jagged hole.
Without waiting, both the Asset and Captain America jumped over the railing, and dropped to the base of the data center below.
Glass cracked under the Asset's boots, but held.
But the soldatka was choking on the smoke. Although it was difficult to see, the crash had wounded her; blood leaked from a cut on her head, gushing down the side of her face. The girl was pinned, beneath a beam and a large plate of broken metal — a part of the quinjet's wing that had remained behind from impact. Though she struggled, girl couldn't lift it off.
She didn't call for help.
The Asset only threw a cursory glance at the chip — it'd be so easy to crush, shatter, and end the Captain's plot right then and there.
To kill him here and now.
To his right, the girl coughed. More broken glass fell into the river below. The wing began to slide down, towards the hole, dragging the soldatka with it.
To his left, Captain America slid across the glass floor and grabbed the chip.
The Asset ran.
One strong leap.
"What are you doing?" The soldatka cried out, as his hand wrapped around her wrist. "Leave me! You can't fail the mission! The Secretary's orders!"
Damn those orders. The Asset wanted to say, but he had to grit his teeth as he pried away a piece of metal. Instead, he grunted as he lifted it up: "No. I'm with you…"
"…To the end of the line." Another voice finished, and the metal in the Asset's grip suddenly became light as second pair of hands joined him.
With one final heave, two different sets of arms pulled the soldatka away from the burning mess of fire and metal. The Asset looked around, stunned to see none other than Captain America — his mission — dropping the support beam as soon as the girl was clear from danger. The Asset was so stunned, he didn't let go of her, even as she rose to her feet. For some reason, the target had stopped in whatever objective he had to do this. Something compelled him so, something that the Asset could not even comprehend, much less understand. He knew Captain America was trying to sabotage Project Insight.
He was willing to die for it. And he did not have much time left.
So what would be so important as to stop him now?
"I'm not your enemy, Buck," Captain America said, holding out his hands — empty of weapons — and taking a step forward. Thick smoke wafted between them.
The Asset, with the girl in his grip, took a step back. Captain America came to an abrupt stop, his eyes flicking between the two. If and when the fight continued, the soldatka would not last long and the Asset couldn't afford to fail either her or the mission. The Captain had the advantage at this moment; the Asset caught off his guard, the soldatka badly injured.
But the expression in the Captain's eyes seemed fragile, almost… almost heartened. A small, odd little smile pulled at his lips and he let out a raspy chuckle. "I-I can't believe I never saw it before. She looks just like you."
The Asset blinked. A sign of surprise. He glanced at the girl, wondering if this was a trick. He didn't remember what he looked like; and yet still he searched.
And perhaps found more than he was expecting.
Captain America, perhaps intuiting the Asset's shock, confusion, indecision, added, "Yeah, buddy, she's yours. She's your kid." Again, that sad, wry smile. "Don't you want to know her name?"
Her name.
She doesn't have one. You ripped it out of her three years ago.
"Amelia," Captain America turned his attention now to the soldatka, who went very still. "I know you're still in there. And I just want you to know, I'm not angry at you. I'm sorry I ever dragged you into this. It's all my fault. But I know this man," He gave a pointed nod to the Asset. "Your father. He'd never hurt you."
It's only instinct for a man to protect his daughter.
The Asset felt something snap in his chest. Nothing physical, nothing real… but it hurt just as much. Left him breathless, panicking. His gaze snapped to the soldatka, who'd gone very pale. It might've been from his metal grip, which had tightened considerably on her shoulders with every word Captain America spoke.
Like he knew them.
Like he knew the truth.
Her wide eyes stared back at him. The grease had smeared, her face caked in ash and blood. Her face looked significantly paler now. There was a cut on her lip, a bruise on her cheek from the recent clash. Part of her gear had been damaged, sliced through on her right arm where part of the ceiling had come down on top of her.
She's a distraction.
She was alive. So was the mission. The Asset had failed his orders.
And she would suffer for it.
"He's lying, right?" The soldatka whispered, looking between him and Captain America with an increasingly strained expression. She fought against his grip, leaning to attack. But the Asset held her firm.
This wasn't her fight.
This man, this shield-bearer… he was right. The Asset would never hurt her. Would never let anything happen to her.
Would never let Pierce touch her again.
"No," was all the Asset could say, his voice low. Russian, so only she would understand him. The Asset straightened, forcing himself to look her in the eye. He glanced past her, as the sudden drop over the edge of the helicarrier. Then looked back at her. Gray on gray. Daughter. Family.
Amelia.
Find the will to do what he was about to do.
And hoped it worked.
"What?" the soldatka asked, brow furrowing as he suddenly began pushing her back. "What are you doing?"
"He isn't your mission." The Asset told her quietly, bowing his head.
Then, with one hand, he lifted the girl up.
And threw her off the helicarrier.
"No!"
The Asset was tackled from behind, but it was too late. The soldatka screamed once, then fell from sight.
Pierce was right. The girl was a distraction.
And now there was nothing left in the way of the Asset completing his mission.