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- CHAPTER 6: JINX -
The back alleys of Seoul were beautiful. On one side of our dimly lit path were flower shops, the hanging lamps illuminating the fresh blooms within. On the other stood various stands, bustling with shopkeepers trying to sell various chachkies to the tourists that came through. And even though night had fallen, these streets remained alive with movement.
Too bad we were not here for a vacation.
The Winter Soldier was pretty much as wide as the narrow alleyway, having to flatten himself against the wall if someone needed to pass by us. We were in plainclothes tonight, meandering around on our way to scope out a good location for tomorrow's elimination. He wore jeans and a leather jacket, while I was sporting a nice midi sundress with a denim jacket. We looked like the perfect European couple, enjoying our time as we visited "exotic" lands. All topped off with a casual holding of hands as we made our way down the street.
But his hand felt frigid, wrong, and it took every ounce of my will not to rip it away. But on this crowded of a street, we had a role to play. And in his current state, he was not going to bend from his orders to stay covert.
They'd fried him two days ago—around twelve hours before we hopped on a plane. It wasn't just for the fun of it, either. No, they'd done this to make sure he made me comply while we were on this mission. For, despite how much he'd had my back the past few times, they'd caught on to my lack of action in the field in certain regards.
So finally, after a little over a year of missions, it was time. I was not leaving without killing people. And if I failed, the Winter Soldier was commanded to bring me back alive but in pieces.
Eighteen, almost nineteen, and about to make my first kill. Even after fourteen years of theory and brutal preparation, it just didn't seem possible. A sick part of me wished they had given me actual practice in Siberia. At least then, there would be no opportunity for me to fuck this up.
My palm was sweaty but I knew the Winter Soldier didn't care at all. Still, it was embarrassing.
I never understood why I was so different from my comrades—why I was able to see through the murky ideals of Hydra and keep my wits. All things considered, I should be numb to their horrific goals, even in support of them. It was what they drilled into me from the delicate age of five when I was supposed to be my most impressionable.
Yet, I didn't. Sure, I played my part—learning, training, and doing what I had to do to survive. But if this past first year of missions had taught me anything, it was that I could only keep up pretenses to an extent.
But no longer.
We reached an even busier street, various bars and restaurants starting to surround us as the road mercifully widened. Groups of friends and couples walked past us without a second glance, foreigners not really an unusual sight in this part of town.
We reached our destination, a restaurant down a bustling side alley. Walking inside, we were seated immediately. I ordered something random, knowing that we weren't actually here for dinner. Soon after, various side dishes were piled onto our table while we waited for the main course. They looked delicious but I was too nauseous to even think about taking a bite.
"We should at least pretend like we're having a conversation," I said with a fake smile for any peeking eyes. "It's weird for a couple to go to dinner and stare at one another in silence."
He shot me a sideways glance. A dead end.
So, I occupied my time by scoping out the restaurant. It wasn't a random pick—while the front appeared like a normal, bustling eatery, it also acted as the meeting point for our target. A mob boss specializing in illegal biohazard experimentation. Rumor had it they were working on their own super-soldier serum. Naturally, Hydra couldn't let that happen.
The waiter placed our main dish in front of us—a nice smoked fish—and I was able to catch movement behind him as he walked away. Two men were walking towards the back, in casual clothes but their eyes darting around the space on the lookout.
"Eyes up," I said, pretending to pick at the fish.
The Winter Soldier tilted his head slightly, catching sight of them. They continued to move on the opposite perimeter, keeping to the shadows and using the commotion of the restaurant to sneak by unseen. They ducked into a back corner, boxes of beer covering them as they disappeared from sight. I continued to poke at the fish as long minutes passed, but they didn't reappear.
"I'm going to head to the bathroom," I said, standing up and sliding out of our booth.
I dodged waiters with delicious dishes, and more than once had to sidetrack a drunk white guy as he tried to stop me on my way to the back. The grills were hot as I moved past the kitchen, a wide window showcasing cooks hard at work while pleasant smoke wafted into my face. No one paid me any attention as I moved along, slipping into the same alcove the men had disappeared into.
Down a small hall to my left were bathroom stalls, as well as an open doorway that led out to some sort of small courtyard. But behind the beer boxes was a barely-there outline of what was clearly a doorway. It was masked by a giant poster of some Korean celebrity, so easy to miss, but definitely an opening. The building was several stories, so I'm sure it led to a staircase.
Given it was clearly barred to the public, I moved away from the secret entrance and out into the courtyard. It looked like an extension of the restaurant, patrons laughing over portable grills that cooked meat on thrown together tables. Putting a hand in my pocket, I pulled out a pack of cigarettes and made my way to where a few people were standing in a corner to smoke. I kept my distance, leaning on a wall as I lit one up.
It never touched my lips as my eyes set on the second story of the restaurant. There were lights on, the windows glazed so no one could look in. Smart. Various shadows passed by, some lingering while others just quickly breezed past. None of them opened.
There were some great vantage points from buildings across the way but a snipe wouldn't be possible with the windows obstructed. We'd have to go in. They usually did business well into the night from what we heard during our brief, so we could sneak in after the restaurant closed to carry out the job.
"Care if I bum one?" I heard a posh Britsh accent from my right.
On my left, a tall and lean man with dark curly hair leaned on the wall. A kind smile was plastered across his pale face as it shone in the lights from the lamps scattered across the courtyard. He was probably just another tourist seeking out someone like him to commiserate with. I was hoping my side glare would do the trick and get him to leave, but the look on his face told me he wasn't budging. I just held out the pack.
"Keep it," I said flatly, putting a few feet between us as he grabbed it. With cautious eyes, I continued to look up at the second floor and the shadows beyond the window.
"I couldn't impose that much," he replied, too chipper.
"Bad habit. Trying to quit, anyway." My head didn't turn towards him as I spoke.
"Cheers to that." He gave out a chuckle before I saw a lighter spark up in my peripheral. With a deep breath, he took a drag. "Traveling?"
I rolled my eyes. Men could not take a hint, could they?
"Yep," was my curt reply.
"Oh, yeah?" Another drag. "From where?"
"Canada," I said the first country that popped into my head.
"Ah, the Great North. Hear it's a nice place."
"Sure." My eyes never left the second floor as I tried so desperately to get him off my case.
"What's so important up there?" I did turn my head at that, his head tilting to the second-floor window that previously occupied my focus.
My jaw set as I looked away to a table of some local drunk college kids. I'd slipped, letting a stranger notice me like that. A potential witness but hopefully one that wouldn't be of any importance if we did our job well. Nevertheless, I needed to head out.
"Dunno." I shrugged, throwing the cigarette down and crushing it with my foot. Adjusting my jacket, I began to walk away.
"Where're you off to?" he asked through a smile.
"My husband's waiting on me," I replied casually, not looking back.
"Ah," I could barely hear him from my distance across the courtyard, "see you around, then."
He was still watching me when I reached the door and took a peek back.
It was strange how many people were out despite the hour pushing three in the morning. If New York was the city that never sleeps, I had no idea what they called Seoul. Restaurants still occupied patrons, while drunk friends wobbled to grab cabs.
So it was easy for me and the Winter Soldier to go undetected as we scaled roofs in our stealth suits. Masks had been up since we left our hideaway, greasepaint smeared across our eyes. He led on easily, knowing exactly where to head based on the information I had given him from my mini stakeout last night.
I didn't tell him about the odd stranger, not thinking he was of any importance given I didn't see him for the rest of the night.
One last silent jump and we were on top of the restaurant where we pretended to eat dinner last night. The lights of the first floor had gone out long ago, the only light coming from the second-floor windows that cast an ominous glow of the empty courtyard.
"No witnesses," the Winter Soldier said from behind me, voice monotone. Hollow. "In and out in ten minutes."
"Rendevous at the hideout if we get separated," I repeated the brief we always went over as we suited up. "If captured, don't let them take you alive."
He didn't indicate that he'd heard me but I'm sure he had. Instead, he snuck towards the edge of the roof, crouching as we both leaned over to take a look.
The coast was clear—it was time.
The rate of my breathing began to increase ten-fold, the mask stifling my ability to take a deep one. The nerves always hit before we descended upon the unfortunate individuals we'd grace with our presence, but tonight was different.
But I couldn't process any emotions as the Winter Soldier swung down and through a window with a crash. I was quick to follow.
Already it was chaos, the Winter Soldier grabbing onto anyone in his way, snapping necks at the same time he threw out knives. Recent wipings always made him his most brutal, and I shuddered from the sight of it. As usual, I kicked and punched until bloodied but everyone was left breathing, albeit in for a long recovery. Usually, the soldier would leave them be so long as we got the main goons. But tonight he followed in rapid succession, smashing faces while he glared at me.
"You have your mission," he reminded me sternly as he pushed past me.
We were left with just three hostiles—the main boss and his remaining bodyguards. The Winter Soldier killed off the later two with barely the lift of a finger. But he left the boss, looking down to him with boredom. Finally, his slate-blue eyes looked to me, eyes raised in expectancy.
I couldn't move.
So, the Winter Soldier grabbed the boss by the hair and pulled him over until he was kneeling in front of me. He took it well, clearly taking his pride with him to the grave.
The soldier flipped a knife in his hand, holding it handle-out to me. His eyes gave away nothing of what he may be feeling. I grabbed the knife with shakey hands.
"Not a very good assassin, are you?" The mob boss laughed, which earned him a brutal shake of the head.
"Do it," the Winter Soldier said. I fidgeted with the knife, the handle suddenly too large despite how many times I'd practiced with the same blade. If I wasn't so in shock, I would have sworn a light flashed across his eyes. "Or you know what happens."
"I'm offended you brought the amateur with you," the boss said and then chuckled, tilting his head to look at the Winter Soldier. "I know you wouldn't even hesitate but this supposed killer—"
He didn't get to finish before the knife was lodged through his exposed neck. The blood stained my hands as he died immediately, gagging noises replacing his words.
I didn't hesitate to kill anyone who got in my way on missions after that.
- 2 WEEKS AFTER INSIGHT -
It felt like I was suffocating, my hands reaching up to grab my neck as I practically rolled off of the mattress that was my makeshift bed. The sun trickled in through the boarded windows above me. My neck and forehead were soaked with sweat, and I ripped off the sweater I'd thrown on last night to fight against the chill. Our squatting spot didn't exactly have that many amenities, like heat or AC.
After the Insight Helicarriers went down, James and I had stayed in the suburbs of DC, knowing that the borders in and out of the district would be heavily guarded after such an event. So we laid in wait, shacking up in a near-abandoned apartment complex. Its lower floors served as a housing project for those less fortunate, so two degenerate looking individuals coming in and out didn't set off any alarms. But that didn't mean we took the utmost care in our movements. We only left when we had to, stealing food and money to remain afloat.
James had barely spoken to me in the past two weeks as we waited for our out. Every morning when I woke, I was terrified that he would be gone—snuck off during the night. If he did, I knew I would never be able to find him. He was just that good, especially if he no longer had Hydra to keep tabs on him.
I leaned up, stretching out my arms. Lifting my shirt, I checked the bullet wound in my abdomen. The damage from the knife to my shoulder had healed in a couple of days, but the bullet had to be removed which caused an extended healing time. It got infected not soon after, turning what should have been a week of healing into an ongoing battle. But it was looking good today, the scab was nearly gone as it left behind a small scar.
Happy, I moved my focus away and to our dwellings. There were no bedrooms, just a small living space with a tiny kitchenette and bathroom. At least the water ran, but there was no electricity. Not the most luxurious, but oddly familiar given how similarly dismal Hydra headquarters had been.
Our 'living room' was, naturally, scarce. No furniture but neat enough, our duffel bags always packed and ready to go in the corner. James slept by the opposite wall on sheets, denying a mattress when we picked mine up from another abandoned room. His breathing was slow but light, and I imagined he'd be up in a second if I made even the slightest noise.
Pulling my knees to my chest, I propped my head on top of them and watched him. Thankfully, he'd slept through the night—a true rarity. Neither of us were excelling in avoiding nightmares, but he was definitely faring worse than I was.
I gazed at him for a few moments more, wondering what he might be dreaming about, before I decided it was time to get ready. We were leaving DC tonight but, before then, there was one last thing I needed to do.
As soon as I began to stand, the bulky man across the room began to rustle. But not in a way that meant he was waking up. I sighed—I'd spoken too soon.
With rapid steps, I cleared the distance between us and reached him just as arms began punching out. Straddling his shirtless torso, I planted a knee on his metal bicep. The third night we were together, I hadn't been as careful and earned a punch to the cheek because of it.
"Hey! Hey!" I shouted, grabbing his face in my hands. His eyes were closed as he tried to wiggle out of my grip. My palms landed a few stern slaps on his cheeks. "James!"
His eyes opened in a fury, pupils dilated. He was wiggling violently as his bright blue eyes darted around to understand his surroundings. When he saw that he was pinned, he thrashed about even more. It must have been a bad one, as he fought to land a metal fist on my thigh. My hand wrapped in metal before I sent out two long shards from my fingers, overlapping to hold his hand down as they lodged into the floor.
"Hey!" I focused my eyes on his, letting my magic fade as I held his head in my normal palms. "It's me. It's Ilana." His heaving chest began to slow, his pupils shrinking to their normal size. "It's me," I repeated.
He nodded, shoulders becoming ever so lax. My hands moved his long hair from his sweaty forehead so he'd have a completely clear view. I wasn't sure if it made any difference, but I imagined an unhindered view felt less claustrophobic.
Finally, he gave up the fight completely. His breath was loud as he took gasps, his body trying to recover from whatever trauma played in his dreams.
"Good." I smiled, keeping my eyes locked with his. "What's your name?" His brows scrunched. "Come on," I joked. "I already gave you a hint."
"James," he breathed.
"James what?"
"James Barnes." His brows nearly touched in consideration.
"Almost there..." I encouraged, giving him a little pat on the cheek. "One more part."
His face relaxed completely, breathing nearly normal as he closed his eyes. "James Bucky Barnes."
"Close enough." I smiled. "Buchanan is a mouthful. And where are we?"
"D.C." He reopened his eyes, the torture of his nightmare but a faint cloud in his irises.
"What year is it?" I looked at him expectantly. This was always the toughest one. Sadness filled his features—he knew something prevented him from remembering such an easy question. "You've got it," I whispered.
He closed his eyes once more, scrunching them in concentration. After what felt like minutes, he reopened them. "2014."
"Well done." I rolled off of him, sitting cross-legged a few feet away. My fingers rubbed at my eyes roughly. "Want to tell me what this one was about?" He stayed silent and when I looked up, he was staring at the ceiling. "Thought not," I grumbled.
With a groan, I stood. As I made my way over to the kitchenette, he leaned up into a sitting position, his dog tags clinking gently as they fell onto the front of his chiselled chest. I don't think he knew exactly what they were yet, but I'd given them to him about a week ago to let him do with them as he pleased. Ever since, I hadn't seen them leave his neck.
Reaching the sink, I prepped a glass of water before turning back to lean on the edge and look at him. He had bags under his eyes, and his posture was horrible, as if the world weighed on his bones. And, to be fair, it probably did.
This was going to be a long road.
"I have to go do something before we head out," I finally said after taking a big gulp of water. "I should be back in two hours at most. Are you going to be okay without me?"
I eyed him carefully. It made me nervous to leave him. We hadn't been out of each other's sights unless we were sleeping. And even then, though I was just as light a sleeper as him, my gut always wrenched when I first woke up.
He finally looked at me, tired eyes meeting mine for a long while. And then he nodded.
"You sure?" I pressed, taking another sip of water. He sent me another nod. "And you won't leave?"
"No," he whispered, shaking his head as he rubbed a hand down his face.
I fiddled with the cup in my hand, tracing a finger along the top of it. It was dirty but beggars really couldn't be choosers.
"Promise?" My voice was barely audible even to my own ears. I was embarrassed at even asking.
"You think I would?" My eyes met his as he spoke. He hadn't tried to carry on a conversation in the past two weeks.
"I don't know." My shoulders shrugged. "I'd like to think not."
He sighed, leaning back on his hands. While still definitely tired, he appeared almost... normal, sitting like that. The Winter Soldier in him fizzled out with each passing day, and all focus shifted to getting him to remember who he was before Hydra. I knew I had nothing to fear from him anymore beyond the idea that he would leave me.
Because I realized that I needed him just as much as he needed me.
The Avengers were great, sure. But they would never be able to understand what I went through with Hydra. Maybe Nat could relate to some extent, but it would only be so comparable. She had been a lone wolf after entering the KGB. Meanwhile, I was responsible for my actions alongside someone else. We needed to heal together, so if James wasn't willing to stay behind, neither was I.
"I remember you, you know." He ran a hand through his hair. I perked up—that was news to me.
"Yeah?" My voice was too hopeful, so I cleared it. "How much?"
"Enough." He frowned, eyes distant in concentration. "It comes in pieces but... The memories are coming back. Where we lived, how we trained..."
"What we did," I finished the thought he couldn't.
"Yeah." Another hand ran down his face, revealing exhausted features in its wake. "Those more than anything."
"You once told me we can't stop the nightmares." I took a pause, thinking back to that time on the roof. "Do you still think that's true? Now that we no longer have to be those people?"
He considered me for a moment, his breath even as I watched his chest rise and fall. It was almost peaceful, especially with the bright morning light at his back.
"I think that means it'll only make them worse."
"Why?" My brows scrunched.
"Because now we have to face them." His jaw set and he looked away.
I nodded in consideration. He wasn't wrong. Hydra wasn't around anymore to give us the excuse that the blood we spilt belonged solely in their hands. We had to take responsibility by addressing what we did head-on. I took a sip of water to soothe my dried throat.
"Then we'll do it together," I finally replied.
My fingers went back to the rim of the glass, my eyes looking past the water and onto the floor. Metal slipped into my line of sight with a soft scratch across the floor. I leaned down to pick up James's dog tags. The imprints in the metal massaged my thumb as it slid across them.
"Consider that collateral or whatever you want to call it." He didn't sound annoyed, just tired. "But I promise I won't leave."
And then he laid back down and closed his eyes.
It was absolutely shocking how easy it was to sneak into a hospital.
Nurses uniforms were practically lying around, ripe for the taking. So I didn't hesitate when I entered the military hospital in central D.C. to change out of my clothes and into a pair of scrubs. I walked around unnoticed, no one batting an eyelash as I made my way down stark corridors.
Pretending to pull my hair back, I ducked my head down as I entered a nurses station. Tapping away on a computer, I searched until I spotted the name I was looking for and gave out a sigh of relief. He was still here, albeit behind a plethora of locked doors. I scanned the room, looking for anyone that may seem important.
A surgeon walked in, distracted as he tried to flirt with a young blonde nurse. His coat was embroidered with his name followed by "cardiology." That should do it. I made my way quickly past them, ducking my hand with a rapid movement to pull his badge from his pocket. With a smile, I exited and began walking down various hallways.
Scan after scan, I traversed through barricaded doors until I reached the VIP ward on the fifth floor. Naturally, his room was guarded but I had a clear view as I pretended to check charts from down the hall.
Steve looked great, not a scratch on him. It was a mystery why he had been here for so long—surely his super body had healed him last week. He was laughing, Sam beside him as they chatted. Even from this far away, I could hear music trickle out of their room. Steve turned to a small notebook in his lap, writing something down in it.
It ignited the smallest idea in my mind.
Pushing that aside, I continued to watch the smiling blonde. I knew I couldn't go see him. He would have too many questions and it would be too tempting to stay. But still, it was nice to see that he was alive and thriving. Satisfied, I placed the clipboard down.
"Are you able to check my temp, nurse?" A voice rang out from behind me.
I smiled as I turned, seeing Nat look at me with her own grin.
"For you?" I began. "Anytime."
She stepped forward, dressed casually in jeans and a jacket. "I was wondering when you would stop by."
"How'd you know I would?" She just raised her eyebrows at me. "I just... had to make sure he was okay. He wasn't exactly looking too hot when I ditched him."
"I get it." She nodded her head to a nearby empty room. "Why don't we take this somewhere more private? I've got something for you."
We entered what looked like an unused office, Nat closing the door behind us.
"This isn't a trick to trap me, right?" I joked.
She scoffed playfully. "I'm heading out, too. Wouldn't try to stop someone who's doing the same."
"Oh yeah?" I leaned on the desk. "Where are you off to?"
"Not sure." She placed a slim briefcase next to me. "But my cover's been blown, so I think I'm going to spend a long vacation looking for a new one."
"Don't forget to send a postcard."
"You, too." She eyed me as she began to type a code into a pin pad on the side of the briefcase. "How is he, by the way?"
"Not murderous." I shrugged. "So, it's a start. But we've got our work cut out for us."
"You'll figure it out... And I agree that here, with the Avengers, is not the place to do it."
The dog tags hidden under the stolen scrubs suddenly felt heavy.
I nodded my thanks as she opened the briefcase. Inside was a crisp, black laptop and accompanying devices.
"What's this?" I stood and ran my fingers across its surface.
"How did you think you were going to be able to send those postcards?" She joked, opening the lid of the computer. "It's untraceable, completely off the grid. Not a single person will be able to track it when you're using it. Hell, they won't even know you're using it." I eyed her suspiciously. "I'm ex-KGB. I have connections, and I wouldn't fuck you over by giving you something that'll keep tabs on you." She smiled. "We're a team. Even when we're apart."
I replied with a slight smile. "Thanks, Nat. This means a lot."
"Of course." She began to walk towards the door. "I've programmed it with an encrypted service that can send out messages. If you need us, we'll be there."
With a nod, I watched as she headed for the door. She reached for the handle and paused, turning back.
"I was debating whether or not to tell you this, but..." she hesitated. "You might want to look into something called 'Project Jinx.' It was hidden by Hydra but with all their information out in the open, it's been uncovered. Don't get me wrong, you'll still have to dig pretty deep but it's there."
"What is it?" I scrunched my brow in confusion.
"I feel like I wouldn't be doing it justice if I tried to explain it, but it might reveal some... things. About where you came from."
Where I came from? I was raised in a way where that was an open and closed question. Stolen at five, family murdered right after. What else could there be?
"Will do," I said with a nod. "Good luck, Nat. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around."
"I sure hope so." And with one final smile, she walked out of the door and out of sight.
The relief that washed over me couldn't be helped when I saw that James had in fact stayed.
He'd showered and changed into jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. Propped on the wall, he was reading a book we'd found in the apartment—the third book in a series about a boy wizard. Neither of us had any idea what was going on when we perused through it, but it was something to do when we weren't able to get our hands on a newspaper. So, it was lucky for him that I had picked one up on my way back today.
He looked up as I entered, brows scrunching when he saw how much I was carrying. I had to put some of the stuff into the front pocket of my hoodie just to carry it up to the apartment.
"I've got some things for you," I said as I placed the briefcase down on the counter before heading over to him. In one hand, I carried a plastic bag and in the other, I juggled two cups. Carefully, I lowered myself to the floor, crossing my legs. He threw the decrepit book aside. "First, some new reading material." I handed him the newspaper after I pulled it from my hoodie pocket.
"Thank god," he mumbled, scanning the headlines. "Half of the words in that book are made up."
A giggle escaped my mouth. "And then probably the most important..." I held up the two cups in front of him. He scrunched his brows. "Coffee! I got hot and iced to see which one you like more."
"Coffee..." he said the word as if it pulled on some sort of string in his mind. I smiled at the unintentional connection to something in his past.
"Here." I handed him the iced one. "This is my favorite." He took a sip, face scrunching slightly. I chuckled. "Try this one, then." I swapped out the iced for the hot.
He took a sip, something in his eyes flickering. "I used to drink this," he said quietly, nodding. "Or at least I think so... It seems familiar."
Like a giddy child, I clapped my hands. "That's great!" Without thinking, I placed a hand on his knee. "See? Progress."
He rolled his eyes, hiding a small smile with another sip of coffee. I took my own sip of the iced one before pulling over the plastic bag.
"And finally..." I pulled out a small black notebook and a pack of pens. "Got the idea from... a friend. I thought this might be helpful."
"What do you mean?" He put his coffee to the side as he reached for the notebook, flipping through its blank pages.
"To write down stuff you learn. Stuff you remember." He looked unconvinced, so I snatched it back. "Like this." I opened it to the first blank page, speaking what I was writing out. "'My name is James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes.' 'I like hot coffee.'" I handed it back to him. "Now you try."
He looked at the page for a long moment, fingers resting on the words I had written. Several times, he peeked toward me with piercing blue eyes. I just looked back with calm expectancy. Finally, he lifted the pen and wrote something. He looked at it for a few seconds before pushing it over to me. I blocked it with a hand.
"It's for you," I said. "Don't think you have to show me. Just promise you'll use it?"
He nodded, looking back down to it. As I stood and headed back towards the briefcase, I watched him scribble a few more things down.
Typing in the code Nat gave me—the date we met two years ago—the briefcase opened with a crisp click. I pulled out the laptop and set it on the counter, poking at buttons to establish a connection. The screen powered on, the desktop blank with the exception of a few icons. I clicked on one that led me to an underground search engine and began to type.
"What's that?" he asked, placing the notebook aside. I was pleased to see that he had already moved to another page.
"Untraceable laptop." I continued to click away, files flying across the screen. Suspicion crossed his features. "Don't worry, it's from a trusted friend."
He still looked uneasy as he crossed his arms and rested against the wall. "What are you looking for?"
"I'm not sure yet..." I mumbled, my fingers barely able to keep up with everything I was uncovering. Experience with tapping into scientific databases was coming in handy. "Got a lead that I'm looking into."
The room went quiet with the exception of my clicking. Every now and then I would pause, reading a couple of lines on a document before moving on when it proved not useful. Hydra had hidden away a lot of failed projects, throwing away the key with countless encryptions. Even with everything out in the open, Nat wasn't lying when she said I was going to have to do some digging.
One file popped up that made me pause. It was accompanied by a large picture of a man in a cryo chamber, an exact reflection of the man on the floor across from me. There was a lot of information concerning his initial experimentation at the hands of Zola, as well as detailed reports of his missions. Some of them mentioning me. I saved it for later before closing it, wanting to show him but not sure if he was ready for it.
I searched for so long that I eventually plopped onto my mattress, propping the laptop on my crossed legs. There was too much information to parse through, my eyes burning from looking at a screen for so long.
Every now and then I would feel eyes on me, a pause as James looked at me before I heard pen meet paper again. It prickled joy at the back of my brain that he was already able got write so much.
"Ugh," I groaned after looking for a majority of the afternoon. My palms rubbed my eyes. "I'm never going to find this stupid thing."
"What is it?" he asked, coming to sit beside me and look over my shoulder.
"It's called 'Project Jinx' apparently," I pushed my long black hair out of my face. He scrunched his brow and I considered him. "Do you know it?"
"It sounds familiar," he mumbled as he pulled the laptop closer. He typed for half a second before pausing, looking at the wall with a blank stare. "I know where it is," he said suddenly, head snapping to the screen. His fingers moved rapidly. "They buried it under aliases—a train of project files to act as a maze of diversions."
"How do you know?" I had to lean on his bicep to watch the screen.
"Because I had to kill an entire team of technologists in Oslo while Hydra agents rewrote everything at the NEXUS Internet Hub." He didn't look at me as he focused on the screen. Not a single thought of judgement passed my mind. "It was about two years after you arrived."
I watched him type away in silence, my eyes catching random words here and there while things popped up on the screen. Pictures of people and locations, as well as diagrams of weapons and other massive entities, were thrown in the mix. A helter-skelter collage of chaos.
"Here," he whispered. I hadn't realized my head was on his shoulder until he spoke. With a jump, I pushed off of him as he slid the laptop back over. "'Project Jinx'... or what's left of it. Looks like they deleted some things permanently."
On the screen was just a few files, far less than any other project I'd seen as I perused. The first document consisted of my basic information, accompanied by pictures of me. There was one for each year I was with Hydra. Notes on my progress and missions littered the next couple of pages.
But that wasn't the most interesting part. The final few pages outlined this 'Project Jinx'—an initiative in the eighties involving human experimentation and the monitoring of enhanced individuals. My fingers scrolled, the documents only confusing me as they went along.
/
Name: Ilana Dimitrov
Code name: Illusion
Date of birth: October 30th, 1987
Location of birth: Hoghilag, Romania
Assigned Agents: #762, #990
Notes: Specimen tested positive at birth and relocated to Paris, France headquarters. Moved to safe house location in Noyers-sur-Serein. Last known location of birth parents as of 1990 is Hoghilag, Romania. [redacted]
/
"That's not possible," I breathed. Rereading the notes. "My parents are dead."
"They still could be," James said, his breath tickling my ear as he leaned in to look at the screen. "It's a bit outdated."
I shook my head. "They told me every day that they were slaughtered and tested on as soon as I was taken." My voice was quivering. "If they were alive then, they most likely still are."
He was silent but I felt his eyes on me. I just kept looking at the screen, but my mind was focused elsewhere. What the hell was this? James's hand brushed mine as he took over the mousepad and continued to scroll.
"Looks like you weren't the only one." He stopped on another document, nearly empty.
/
Name: [redacted]
Code name: [redacted]
Date of birth: [redacted]
Location of birth: [redacted]
Assigned Agents: #762, #990
Notes: Specimen tested positive at birth and relocated to Paris, France headquarters. Moved to safe house in Noyers-sur-Serein. [redacted]
/
Name: [redacted]
Code name: [redacted]
Date of birth: [redacted]
Location of birth: [redacted]
Assigned Agents: #762, #990
Notes: Specimen tested positive at birth and relocated to Paris, France headquarters. Moved to safe house in Noyers-sur-Serein. [redacted]
/
"Why would they get rid of all this information?" I mused, turning to him. "Were there ever any other kids around before me?"
He shook his head. "Not that I remember." His brow scrunched at the possibility that he actually just couldn't remember.
I gave out a long sigh, closing the laptop and rubbing my face. My mind was fuzzy, my emotions overwhelming as I fought not to cry. As tears stung my eyes, I felt stupid. I didn't even know why I was so upset. It's not like I knew my parents anyway, but... They had been alive this entire time. The only reasonable explanation was that they thought I was the one that was dead. Right?
Project Jinx opened a box of questions that I knew I couldn't just ignore. There was more to my story than Hydra had led me to believe. Someone had monitored me from before I was born, taken me before I was even with Hydra. And not just me.
There was only one place to start.
"This is going to be trouble," I said seriously, turning to James. He'd leant his head back on the wall beside me, staring up at the ceiling. "I know we've just gotten out of shit like this but... I don't think I can do this alone." My voice was barely a whisper.
His jaw set, staring at me silently. I shrunk under his gaze, feeling awful for even suggesting that I wanted him to join me on a manhunt that could possibly lead us into nefarious waters. But I knew I couldn't rest until I had at least some answers.
And even more than that, I knew I couldn't do it without him by my side.
"Where do we start?" he finally asked, any emotion he had about the situation hidden behind a neutral mask.
"Ever been to Paris?" I smiled sadly.
"Only to kill people." His words were so casual. Maybe a good sign, all things considered.
"Should be a nice change, then." I opened the laptop to check the time. "But before that," I said as I stood, wiping off my jeans, "I have one more thing for you."
"What's that?"
I smiled and reached a hand out for him. "You'll see."
He looked at my outstretched palm for a couple of blinks. Then, he wrapped his metal hand around it allowed me to help hoist him up.
Even though it was just an hour away from closing, the Smithsonian was packed to the brim with school groups, tourists, and a variety of other patrons. It was beyond easy to sneak in through a back door, quickly melting into the crowds of people as they made their way from exhibit to exhibit.
James kept his hands in his jacket pockets, head tilted downwards to make sure his baseball cap covered his eyes. I linked an arm with his casually to make us appear less suspicious, like we were just another couple enjoying a trip to a museum. I sported a matching baseball cap—boasting the logo of some local basketball team that I'd nicked from a seller on the sidewalk—to complete the whole touristy look.
We stopped by a couple of exhibits about airplanes throughout the decades, as well as one about the moon landing. James was particularly interested in fighter jets from the forties, the aircrafts clearly igniting more memories. Though from the small frown that sometimes crossed his face, I wasn't sure if they were pleasant ones.
"You good?" I asked nervously. The entire way here I considered that maybe this wasn't the best idea. "Listen, if this is bringing back bad memories that you're not ready for—"
"No," he interrupted. "It's... helping. I need to remember everything." I nodded. He handed me his notebook, careful not to remove his metal hand from his other pocket. "Can you write that down?" His head tilted in the direction of the display's informational podium.
"Sure." I took the notebook and flipped through to a blank page. I swore I caught the word 'Ilana' a couple of times but I tried not to invade his privacy by reading anything he'd written. With quick scribbles, I copied down the words and passed it back. "Ready for what I brought you here for?"
He stared at me, barely able to tear his eyes away from the plane. "This wasn't it?"
"No. But James," I hesitated, "if it's too much, you have to tell me." His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "You'll see what I mean. I just don't want to... overwhelm you. Okay?"
With one last peek at the plane, he gave me a resolute nod. Hooking my arm back in his, I led him away.
As we neared the Captain America exhibit, the crowd increased immensely, everyone rushing past to learn about the Star-Spangled Man. We were barely able to squeeze in as a group of middle schoolers ran inside, their teacher trying to keep up as she berated them. It was like night and day compared to when it was just me and Steve sneaking in to steal his uniform. Speaking of which, apparently they'd stolen it back from him. It was back on the mannequin in the center, albeit with a few more rips than it previously had.
"That's the man from the river," James whispered, standing in front of one of the many pictures that scattered the room.
"Steve," I nodded, taking a peek at his face. I was careful to watch for any indicators that we needed to leave. "Do you recognize him?" I asked cautiously.
"I think," he said but then shook his head violently. "I don't know."
"Hey," I said as I pulled him closer, wary of a couple of kids who eyed him, "that's okay. He's not what we're here for anyway."
I led him to the 'Fallen Comrade' display that'd caught my attention the most the last time I was here. Placing ourselves right in front of the informational podiums, I didn't say a word, letting him make the connections he needed to. The photos passed by as they had a couple of weeks ago, each stinging even more now that I had James standing next to me. The sounds of laughing kids drowned out as I watched him watch himself, a plethora of emotions crossing his features.
Without speaking, he held out his notebook again. I took it just as quietly, writing down all the information that passed on the screens.
"What do you think?" I asked quietly as I handed it back.
"It's..." He swallowed, his features twisting in a mixture of confusion and grief. "I don't know," his voice was barely audible.
"It's a lot," I said sadly. "But I thought it was something you needed to see before we left." His eyes met mine—he looked heartbroken. "This is all I really know about you before... you know." I gulped down the lump in my throat. "So, thought I owed it to you."
He kept his eyes on me, his gaze was unfaltering as I watched the cogs in his brain work overtime.
"Oh!" I startled, reaching my hand around my neck. "This all reminds me." I unclasped his dog tags, placing them back around his neck and tucking them under his shirt. "Sorry, I totally forgot."
His non-metal arm felt at them through his shirt, looking back to the display of him. Then, his lips twitched upwards.
"Thank you," he said sincerely. "For... all of this."
"Of course," I replied. I gave one last look at a video of him and Steve laughing before turning around. "Ready to get to work? I mean forties-era you is quite the charmer, though... So I wouldn't fault you if you just wanted to stay here and watch yourself forever."
His eyes lingered on the same video for a minute longer. Then, with a set jaw, he gave me a nod. Holding up an arm for me, I grasped onto it and we walked out of the exhibit.
We hopped a cargo ship bound for the coast of France out of Virginia, knowing that we wouldn't exactly be able to make it through airport security. The ride was long and usually bumpy, but we made due by hiding out in one of the large containers and sneaking into the kitchens to steal food.
Nat's laptop really was a marvel, it's portable connection able to get us online even in the middle of the ocean. The entire ride over I was digging up whatever I could on Project Jinx. Which, annoyingly, wasn't a lot. It was established by an unknown organization—not Hydra, at least—with unknown intentions beyond what we already knew from our initial look at the file.
The redacted blurbs of the other two individuals led to larger but similarly redacted files. Whoever wanted these people hidden had done it well.
"Just as well as Hydra hid us," James said when I brought it up to him one night. The rain was crashing so hard against the metal of the container that I could barely hear him.
"Hmm," I mused. "Maybe that's why."
He looked up from his notebook. It was nearly filled—we'd have to get a new one when we docked. "What?" he asked.
"What other major terrorist organizations are out there that we know of?" I asked, beginning to type away the ones I knew about. "Ones that might have a particular interest in recruiting enhanced individuals?"
He ditched his notebook on top of his duffel bag, coming to sit next to me. Taking turns, we typed away, the glow of the screen being the only light in the closed container. Starting in Eastern Europe, we routed through known organizations and tried connecting them to Project Jinx or any aliases that Hydra had used. We continued west, making it as far as Belgium before my legs went numb and I had to take a short walk.
The sun was coming up when I opened the thick metal door, the concept of time lost on us as we lived out our days primarily in the dark. The rain had stopped a few hours ago and left in its wake a wind-blown chill. I crossed my arms to fight the cold as my eyes adjusted to the light. We'd picked a container a few rows in from the very back of the ship, so I could vaguely see the vast ocean that we were leaving behind.
A blanket wrapped around my shoulders and I startled. "Thanks," I mumbled to James as he stood beside me. "Not a terrible view for being a stowaway, huh."
He just gave out a pensive hmm in reply and we watched the swell of the ocean as the ship continued on at its glacial pace. The sun continued to rise as we leaned against the container, allowing our bodies a chance to stretch out and soak in some vitamin D before we had to hide away once more.
"Look!" I pointed at the strip of the ocean just in between the containers. Excitedly, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close. Whales breached the surface, their large fins popping above the water as they rolled over. "They're so pretty." We leaned on each other to get the best view of the majestic creatures until they were out of sight. "Well, that was a nice break from reality... I'd trade anything to be a whale, I think."
"I'll second that," he said with a smirk. Taking a stretch, he turned back to me. "Probably should hop back in, though. They'll be making rounds soon."
I groaned. "If we must."
He closed the door behind us with a thud, and we were covered in darkness once more. I let the light of the laptop guide me to my makeshift bed, a yawn escaping my lips as I sat. Rolling my neck, I prepped to get typing. But the laptop was taken from my view before I could get to it.
"You should get some sleep," James said. "I'll look for a bit and then we can switch." I gave him a wary look. "What? Do you think I can run away while we're in the middle of the ocean?"
"It's not that," I sighed, running a hand through my hair, "it's just... This is my problem."
"Our problem if we're stuck together." He smirked.
"It's nice that you've started doing that," I said without thinking.
"What?"
"Smiling... Well, smirking. But it's close enough." My eyes drifted to memories of him as the Winter Soldier, where a look like that was impossible to even imagine.
He cleared his throat, seemingly uncomfortable and I instantly regretted saying anything. "Thanks," he mumbled. "But really, take a nap. I can keep going with this for a bit."
"Ugh, fine," I gave in with a huff as I rested my head right by his thigh. With a tug, I wrapped the blanket previously around my shoulders over the rest of my body. "One hour and then wake me up."
"Sure," he said flatly.
I drifted asleep to the sound of keys clacking, and was awoken by a light shake to the shoulder.
"Hey," James's voice sounded distant at first, his hand continuing to push on me gently, "I think I've got something."
Rising to my elbow, I gave out a big yawn. He hadn't moved. "An hour gone already?"
"Five, actually." He shot me a sly look.
"Five?" I shot up, fully awake. A groan escaped my lips. "James, I told you—"
"I got a lead," he said, not letting me finish. "So I followed it. Plus," he looked away, eyes very focused on the screen, "you just looked really content... peaceful. I didn't want to wake you."
My face felt warm but I shook it off, focusing on what he'd said. "Well," I began, scooting next to him, "what do you have?"
"Turns out Western Europe has a large variety of hostile organizations." He pulled up a map littered with pinpoints. "Most are your standard weapons traders or gangs, but there are a couple that think a little more large-scale." A lot of the pins disappeared as he clicked a button.
"Great," I said sarcastically. "So that narrows it down to a couple hundred."
He shot me a small glare. "I wouldn't have woken you if that's as far as I was able to get." I raised my hands in defense and in an indication to continue. "I spent a lot of time looking into Paris, considering that's where you were relocated before you were taken by Hydra. And there's one organization that caught my eye." He clicked on one of the pins.
"'EvolVed Industries'," I read out loud. "Sounds more like an internet company or something."
"It is." He nodded. "But it's also a front for one of the most well-known hacking organizations in the world."
"What?" I grabbed the laptop as he held it out to me, the files on the organization splayed out on the screen as I quickly read through them. At the last one, I sighed. "You mean what used to be known as one of the most well-known hacking organizations. Looks like they ceased existing five years ago."
He shrugged, taking the laptop back. "Be that as it may," he began as he switched to other tabs, "after some digging, I found someone on their payroll who was a little interesting."
He leaned over, and I was painfully aware of his cold metal arm as it rested against my right one. On the screen was a man clearly of East Asian descent, probably reaching thirty with long blonde hair and bright green eyes. His cheekbones were as sharp as knives as he smirked at the camera.
"What's so special about him?" I couldn't tear my eyes away from his file as I scrolled through it. Nothing was out of the ordinary, just your standard employee information.
"Nothing at surface level." His fingers grazed mine as he clicked the mousepad. "But there was a heavily encrypted file attached to this one."
I gasped when it opened, fully leaning on him now to get a complete view of the screen.
The same base information about Project Jinx littered the top of the document, while below sat a familiar sight.
/
Name: [redacted]
Code name: [redacted]
Date of birth: [redacted]
Location of birth: [redacted]
Assigned Agents: #762, #990
Notes: Specimen tested positive at birth and relocated to Paris, France headquarters. Moved to safe house in Noyers-sur-Serein. [redacted]
/
Name: [redacted]
Code name: [redacted]
Date of birth: [redacted]
Location of birth: [redacted]
Assigned Agents: #762, #990
Notes: Specimen tested positive at birth and relocated to Paris, France headquarters. Moved to safe house in Noyers-sur-Serein. [redacted]
/
Then I scrolled to the next page. Like mine, the description was accompanied by images of the same man at various life stages.
/
Name: Luis Kang, born Han-jin Kang
Code name: Surge
Date of birth: April 14th, 1984
Location of birth: Busan, South Korea
Assigned Agents: #762, #990
Notes: Specimen tested positive at birth and relocated to Paris, France headquarters. Moved to safe house in Noyers-sur-Serein. Last known location of birth parents as of 1990 is Seoul, South Korea. Recruited by EvolVed Industries in 1994. [redacted]
/
"Holy shit," I muttered, gaping at him. "I guess you're not just bullets and brawn, then." A wide smile spread on my lips as I continued to look at the file.
"It doesn't mean we know where he is," he said, almost disappointed.
"Oh, don't sound so mopey." I hit his shoulder playfully. "This is amazing, James. We have a real lead." I looked at the information on EvolVed Industries. "If anything, we have an exact location on where we need to start."
I met his eyes with a smile, and slowly he returned with his own. A genuine one. My face blushed at the sight of it. I could get used to that look on his face.
"Alright," I shoved him away from the laptop. "Your turn to get some rest. If I've been able to keep the days straight, we're docking in the morning. I expect you to be asleep until then."
With a wry look, he stood and stretched. I watched as he made his way over to the collection of blankets that was his bed. The skin of my arm where his metal one had rested now felt too warm.
"Goodnight, James," I said as I began to type away. "And," I bit my lip, cheeks heating, "thank you. Really."
He shattered me with another small smile. "Goodnight, Ilana," he replied simply and I smiled back.
He took a second to write something in his notebook before rolling towards the wall and falling asleep.
The last night on the ship didn't pass without incident, and I had to wake James up from a nightmare about an hour out from port. It was a small fit, thankfully, and he was able to easily answer all the questions I threw his way.
Better and better with each passing day.
We'd quickly jumped ship before stowing away on various passenger trains that led us into Paris. For all the devious things we'd used them for, our stealth skills were serving us very well. We made it to the French capital undetected in less than half a day.
"So, there's a doorway in an alley in the back, if I'm remembering correctly," I said, sipping on a coffee as we sat at one of the many cafes that lined the Parisian streets. We'd snuck into a hostel to bathe and change before heading back out to make a game plan. "We sneak in, see if there's anything of importance, and go from there."
"Easy," he agreed, sipping his own coffee. We'd snagged a pair of gloves so he was able to use both of his hands freely.
"Best part?" I asked. He raised his eyebrows expectantly over the rim of his cup. I smiled mischievously. "We don't have to kill anyone."
His face turned grim. "Not that we know of, at least," he grumbled.
"Oh, lighten up." I flicked a sugar cube at him. "We're on our own now. We make the rules."
"We make the rules," he repeated in consideration, nodding. With a gulp, he finished his coffee. "Let's go do things while not killing people, then."
"That's the spirit."
It was a long but beautiful walk to the twentieth arrondissement of Paris where the old headquarters of EvolVed Industries was located. We walked beautiful cobblestones paths, keeping off the main streets as much as we could. By the time we reached the boarded-up front of the building, the sun was setting. It cast a glorious orange and pink hue over the city, like a filter on a picture.
Not many people occupied this street, making it easy to look out of place if we weren't careful, so we took extra notice of our surroundings. Without speaking, we took a look around before slipping into the alleyway right beside the building. The air was chilly as it led into a mini courtyard at the meeting point of several buildings. At the center was a clearly unused and ancient fountain, the nude statue sitting atop it missing her head and one of her nipples.
"Poor woman," I mumbled.
"Over here," he said quietly, leading me to thick wooden doors. With a quick pull, he broke the lock, the noise infiltrating the quiet courtyard like a bomb. I sent him a glare. "Sorry," he grumbled apologetically.
We stepped inside, the interior looking just as worn down and abandoned as the outside. Tables were overturned, papers lined the floor, and dust clouded the air.
"Are we sure it's only been five years since this place closed?" I wondered aloud as we travelled further in.
There wasn't a piece of technical equipment to be found. Sure, as a front for a hacker organization, maybe they had gotten rid of everything even remotely related to a computer but it was almost too empty. It seemed like this place hadn't been touched in decades.
"Maybe we have the wrong address?" He turned to look at me, clearly just as confused.
"No..." I picked up fallen pieces of paper. They were blank, as if just props or set dressing. "This is definitely—"
"Finally," a thick french accent rang from the doorway, "I was wondering when you would get here."
We both turned in a fury, the papers in my hands shredding as metal crawled up my arms. Metal shards occupied each of my hands in a blink, ready to pierce skin. We both paused at who joined us.
His long blonde hair was pulled from his face, half up in a bun as the rest hung loose. He wore a casual black blazer and jeans, hands in his pockets as he leaned on the doorframe. Luis Kang—Surge—was much taller than he appeared in his files.
"It sure took you long enough," he said with a smirk.