"You know what you're doing?" Rogers looks at you seriously and you roll your eyes in response.
"Yes Captain," You lean against the wall of the high rise, "Hang on the roof, shake him up a little, wait for you."
"And?"
"Jesus, I won't shoot him," You huff, "I can follow orders you know. Besides I would only need to shoot him if he tried to run, and I would just shoot him in the leg. Or the stomach. Either way you would have time to question him…" You trail off at the look on Rogers' face. "Joking, joking. No shooting. Only threatening. Got it."
You set yourself up on the roof, bracing the rifle against the concrete barrier around the edge of the building. You test the scope, though with the reluctance Romanoff had displayed in giving it to you it was sure to be in perfect working condition. It was. You find Sam first sitting at a table in a small outdoor cafe and then swing the barrel over to the restaurant where the target-Sitwell-was eating lunch according to Rogers' intel.
Your elbows begin to ache from the uncomfortable position, but you barely register it. You're used to worse. Another few minutes go by and the door swings open again, and this time you catch sight of the man you're looking for. You immediately lock him in your sights and follow him as he descends the stairs talking to an older man.
"(Y/n)," Romanoff's voice crackles in your earpiece, "You got eyes?"
"Affirmative," You reply automatically, hyper focused on the task at hand.
The older man whispers something in Sitwell's ear before walking away. Time to move. "Making the call," Sam says quietly. Sitwell waves waway the men still standing around him and then picks up the phone; you can hear Sam's side of the conversation through your earpiece.
"Agent Sitwell, how was lunch? I hear the crab cakes here are delicious," You snort in amusement, "The good looking guy in the sunglasses, your ten o'clock… There you go. You're gonna go around the corner to your right. There's a grey car, two spaces down. You and I are gonna take a ride."
On your cue you flip a switch near the trigger and a red dot appears centered on Sitwell's tie. He looks down at his chest and then around, eyes wide.
You take a seat on the edge of the room, gun held across your lap as you ready yourself for act two. After a few minutes the doors fly open and Sitwell comes bursting through, rolling across the pavement. Rogers doesn't give him a second, as the man scrambles to his feet Rogers follows after him, Romanoff close on his heels. "Tell me about Zola's algorithm," he demands as he forces the man backwards.
"Never heard of it."
"What were you doing on the Lemurian Star? Rogers demands.
"I was throwing up-" Sitwells legs hit the concrete barrier next to where you sit. He shoots you a glance and you can actually see him pale; he obviously knows exactly who you are. Interesting. "I get seasick," he finishes. Rogers grabs his jacket, forcing him almost over the edge and then a nasty little smile comes onto Sitwell's face. You watch him, amused; he thought he had the upper hand. Also interesting. "Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof? Because that's not really your style Rogers."
"You're right," Rogers takes a step back, "It's not. It's hers." He glances over at Romanoff and without missing a beat she kicks the man hard in the chest, sending him tumbling backwards off the rooftop. You lean over and watch as he falls.
"Oh wait," Romanoff says suddenly, "What about that girl from accounting? Laura…?"
"Lillian," Rogers corrects her, "Lip piercing right?"
"Yeah," Romanoff smiles, "She's cute."
"Yeah, I'm not ready for that."
Behind you you feel a sudden rush of air and then Sam soars overhead, dropping a screaming Sitwell onto the pavement before landing neatly a few feet from him, wings retracting. You follow Rogers and Romanoff this time as they approach the shaking man.
"Zola's algorithm is a program," Sitwell burst out, still on his hands and knees with one hand held out in front of him defensively, "For choosing Insight's targets!"
"What targets?" Rogers asks. You frown, the name 'Insight' resonated with you for some reason. You felt like you had heard it before. Then again if SHIELD and HYDRA were practically the same organization then it made sense that you might have heard something about it. Unfortunately nothing more than a faint sense of recognition came to mind.
"You! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City. Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA. Now, or in the future."
"The future?" Steve repeats, confused, "How could it know?"
Sitwell chuckles, rising to his feet, "How could it not? The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it," Rogers and Romanoff share a look, while Sitwell continues, "Your bank records. Medical histories. Voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. Zola's algorithm evaluates people's pasts to predict their futures."
"And what then?" Rogers demands.
"Oh my god," Sitwell breathes suddenly, "Pierce is going to kill me."
"I think you should be more worried about us at the moment," You swing the barrel of the rifle around, leveling it at his head, "Answer the damn question."
A bead of sweat cuts down his cheek as he looks into your eyes. "Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time."
It's a little cramped with three of you in the backseat; your pistol rests across your lap as Sam drives to the Triskelion. Sitwell's eyes keep drifting to it and then to you. "HYDRA doesn't like leaks," Sitwell starts again and you roll your eyes.
"So why don't you try sticking a cork in it," Sam offers; you can see his scowl in the rear-view mirror.
Romanoff leans forward, "Insight's launching in sixteen hours, we're cutting it a little close here."
"I know," Rogers sighs, "We'll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the Helicarriers directly." Beside you Sitwell stiffens.
"What? Are you crazy? That's a terrible, terrible idea-" Your hand tightens around your gun as something hits the roof with a loud thud; a fraction of a second later a familiar metal arm crashes through the window next to you and grabs Sitwell, yanking him over you through the window and tossing him into oncoming traffic. A bullet whizzes through the roof of the car and Romanoff scrambles into the passenger seat while you flatten yourself against the door.
"Brake!" You flinch as another bullet comes down uncomfortably close to your face. You brace yourself as the car skids to a sudden stop and the Soldier is thrown from the roof. Out the window you see him slow himself with his arm, sparks flying, and then he's upright again. You look out the back window in time to see another car hit you from behind, throwing you against the back of the driver's seat. With another thud the Soldier's back on top of the car. Sam slams on the brakes and lets out a curse as the Soldier reaches through the broken windshield and rips out the steering wheel.
Romanoff fires through the roof and you lunge forward, grabbing her wrist. "Don't shoot him," You snap, "I'll take care of this."
"(Y/n), no-" Rogers starts, but you're already climbing out the window onto the roof of the car. You steady yourself and then stand, facing off with him. The Soldier stands on the hood of the black SUV behind you and the moment it makes contact with the bumper of Sam's car again you lunge forward, tackling the Soldier into the road.
You both roll several feet before you manage to get to your feet. You can't see his face but his pose doesn't exactly look welcoming as the two of you stand several feet apart. "You know me, right?"
"You're (Y/n)," His voice is completely toneless and you swallow nervously, "You were my partner. You attacked me to get away. You betrayed HYDRA."
You blink, surprised. You had expected them to wipe his memory, not feed him some bullshit story. This complicated things. "You helped me get away," You say, forcing yourself to sound as calm as possible, "You cut out my tracker and you told me to run. And whether you like it or not I'm here to help you now, so let me help you. I can help you get away."
"That's not-" an SUV cuts across the road and several men stream out of the open doors; one throws the Soldier a grenade launcher.
"Oh fuck-" You dive over the edge of the overpass as he fires. Scrambling to right yourself before you land a truck hits you, sending you tumbling towards the side of the road. "Shit," you breathe, grasping your shoulder with your uninjured arm. Fucking HYDRA. You brace yourself against one of the concrete support pillars and pop your shoulder back into place.
Immediately three men converge on your position and you duck behind the pillar, pulling your rifle. You count to three in your head and then roll out, ignoring the protest of your shoulder, and duck behind a nearby car. You take out each of the men with deadly accuracy. You can hear more gunfire nearby and you sprint in that direction, sliding over cars as you pass them.
"Out of the way!" You hear Romanoff call, "Get out of the way!" You come around the corner in time to see the Soldier shoot Romanoff. Non-fatal. You leap over the car she's ducking behind and tackle the Soldier away from her before he can get off another shot.
"I didn't betray you," You shot as you dodge the punch he throws in your direction, "Just listen to me Soldier. You know me. Just come with me. I can explain everything." He hesitates for a moment and then grabs you by the neck, slamming you into the wall of the nearest building. "I really don't want to hurt you," you force the words out with your remaining air. You grab his metal arm with both of yours, straining as you push it away enough to give you some wiggle room. "But I will." You slam your head forward into his, catching your breath as he stumbles backwards, the mask tumbling from his face.
"Bucky?" Rogers stands a few feet away, frozen in place as he stares at the Soldier.
The Soldier looks from you to Rogers, confusion coloring his expression, "Who the hell is Bucky?" He raises his gun and you shove Rogers out of the way, the bullet flying so close to your ear you feel the air displacement. You duck behind Rogers' shield as the Soldier empties his clip into the unyielding metal. Before he can reload Sam swoops in, kicking the Soldier off of his feet. Sam lands behind you and you ready your rifle, a frown on your face. If you had to put one in his leg to calm him down, so be it.
"Duck!" You hear Romanoff shout and then a grenade flies overhead towards the Soldier.
"No!" You cover your face as a wave of debris flies over you, "Where did he go?" You demand, your eyes slit as you peer through the smoke.
Sirens erupt around you then as SHIELD agents surround the area, guns at the ready. And who should approach you than your old pal Rumlow. Rogers should have let you kill him when you have the chance. You start to raise your gun but pause after glancing at your companions. Rogers looks like he'd seen a ghost and Romanoff is clutching her bulletwound, her face pale.
"Drop the shield Cap! Weapons on the ground-all of you. On your knees! Get down!" He kicks out Rogers' legs and he falls to his knees. Someone grabs the back of your neck roughly, forcing you to the ground, and then kicks your gun out of your hand.
"Get your hand off of me," You growl, "And I might consider letting your family live."
"Hey, look who it is," Rumlow walks over to you, a cocky smile on his lips, "My old pal. How about you do yourself a favor and shut the fuck up?" He swings his gun and slams it into your mouth.
"I can't wait to kill you Rumlow," You tell him, a smile on your lips as blood seeps from between them, "I know you know who I am. What I can do. Rumlow, what I'm going to do to you-"
The gun smashes into your cheekbone this time, "Get them in the van," he turns away from you, "Now!"