Chapter 73: Pierce

May 29, 1988

Alexander Pierce was a busy man.

For fifteen years, he'd worked tirelessly in both the federal and private sector, at expense of his time, his health, and his marriage. But that was all fine to him. He had enough wealth for concierge doctors, and seeing his kids every other weekend gave him more time to do what he actually needed to do.

He'd worked for America for fifteen years. He'd worked for Hydra for ten.

The shadow organization approached him during his second term as senator. They didn't bother trying to sell him the bullshit story of changing the world and shaping it to their image - that was for the other, more moral recruits - but they sold him on power. Power was a commodity in short supply, and with all the coming changes and advancements on the horizon, Pierce wanted to be at the forefront. Eventually, the world was going to descend into chaos, he'd learned that at a young age. He just had to make sure when it did, that he came out on top.

So, Alexander Pierce was a busy man. But he wasn't too busy for this.

His driver slowed to a stop in front of a nondescript building, the gravel crunching beneath the wheels. There was going to be dust all over his sleek, black AMG Hammer, which irked him more than he could express. As much as he paid for this car, it should shirk any dirt like the clothes of the women he paid to visit him.

Didn't matter. He could get a car cleaned, he couldn't miss this appointment.

"Shall I wait, sir?" his driver asked as he opened the back door. Pierce stepped out, the first warm breeze of summer dancing over him. It was going to be a good day.

"Yes, Parks." he said. "I may be a while though, I hope you brought a lunch."

Pierce knew the man didn't bring a lunch. Eating was forbidden in the car. Parks clenched his jaw, probably biting back obscenities, and nodded.

"I'll wait for you here, sir." he said.

"Very good." Pierce said, turning on his heel and marching towards the building. Behind him, he heard one door slam shut, then another open and close as Parks got back in the driver's seat. Pierce made a mental note to fire him when they got back to the city.

A camera over the door swiveled and stared at him, tracking his progress towards the front. He stopped three feet from it and put his hands in his pockets, determined not to show his excitement. He didn't try the door and he didn't knock; whoever watched the camera knew he was here. To make his point, he checked his watch like he was in a hurry, like he had somewhere better to be.

He didn't, but that wasn't the point.

Eventually, a buzzer sounded and three rounds of locks clunked back in the door. A man in fatigues opened it and held it open, allowing Pierce in.

"Mr. Pierce." the soldier greeted with a nod. Pierce ground his teeth but said nothing. He was supposed to garner a little more respect by now, but perhaps the man was new. It wasn't an excuse, but it was the only thought that kept him from yelling. "Follow me."

The soldier marched at an uncomfortably fast pace, and by the time they went down the multiple flights of stairs and into the back of the basement, Pierce was struggling to contain his breathing. He really needed to get back in the gym, but when did he ever have time for that? The soldier could sense his discomfort, the corner of his mouth twitching as he hid a smile. That was fine, let him laugh now. He didn't know that Alexander Pierce always, always won.

The final door buzzed and they entered something of a theater, the ceilings higher and the space wider than the rest of the basement. Thick electrical cords ran like snakes to an empty torture chair in the middle. More men in tactical gear milled about with clipboards and rifles, but Pierce noted a certain absence.

"Where are they?" he asked the soldier. The man grinned but didn't answer, instead gesturing to a man with general tags on his uniform.

"Mr. Pierce, thank you for coming." the General said, holding his hand out. Pierce shook it, his own firm grip swallowed by the brute strength of the Army man. Pierce hated these guys, but they were a necessary evil.

"Thank you for having me, General." he said. He could easily play nice and exchange pleasantries. These men could laugh at him all they wanted. He would laugh in the end. "I'm sure you know what I'm here for?"

The General laughed. "Yes, Mr. Pierce, I'm very aware of why you're here." he said. "Are you sure you have the funds? An asset like this doesn't come cheap."

"You worry about the assets, I'll worry about the funds." Pierce said. He was, by all accounts, rich, but he didn't fault the General for wondering otherwise. He did, however, fault him for implying that there was only one asset available. Pierce already did his research; he knew exactly what he was walking into, and he knew exactly what he was going to walk out of here with. The General grinned and nodded, letting out a sigh as if Pierce were a petulant child.

"Very well." He gestured at a couple of nearby soldiers, and they turned and left through nearby double doors. Did Pierce imagine it, or did they look nervous? Good. He liked when other people were nervous.

They waited in silence. Pierce was never one for small talk, and apparently the General wasn't either. Perhaps they were both trying to gain the upper hand, force the other to break the tension, but Pierce couldn't care less. This wasn't uncomfortable. This was Christmas. The doors opened as the two soldiers returned, dragging a massive cylinder that hissed and popped and shifted precariously on the wheels. The tech looked positively ancient, like something out of the old movies he watched as a kid. His lip curled at the sight of the rusted green metal and the old double-barreled plugs dragging at the end of exposed copper wires. That thing couldn't keep an asset alive, it could barely hold itself together.

And there was only one.

"What the hell is this?" he asked the General. The man shot a glare from underneath his hat.

"The asset doesn't respond well to new technology, so we have to keep it in its…original container." he explained. That was the dumbest thing Pierce ever heard, but that wasn't his problem.

"I don't give a shit about that." he said. "Where's the other one?"

The General gave a long look, and Pierce had an inkling that the man expected him to only know about one of the assets. Sure, one was definitely more famous, spoken about in underground circles as the perfect weapon, stronger and faster and smarter than anything training or technology could make. But Pierce knew that there was another half to the story, a quieter piece that moved in the shadows and was just as, if not more, dangerous. The General met the soldiers' eyes and nodded his head, and once again they left through the double doors as others started plugging in the first container.

Ice coated the window into the container, blocking the view of the contents, but Pierce stared anyway as if his will alone could melt it. The machine sputtered back to life, frosty air hissing out of the cracks at the hinges of the door. When they were done with this farce, he would immediately get the mechanical engineers in his pocket working on a better containment system.

A few minutes later, the soldiers returned with a second, equally old container, the squeak of the wheels echoing loudly in the open air of the room. Another kick and cough, and the machine came to life. They were loud, so very loud, but they would be worth it.

"How's your Russian, Mr. Pierce?" the General asked, pulling a red notebook from his pocket. The edges were slightly frayed and the pages were stained yellow, but the black star on the front was as dark and bold as ever.

"Good enough for this." Pierce replied. He held his hand out, but the General ignored it, and flipped to a certain page. The Russian looked like a child's scribble to Pierce, but he could see the list of words. Those, at least, he could read. If he didn't already have them memorized.

"Let's get the tough one done first." the General said to the soldiers near the containers. They all glanced at each other, silently deciding which would open the door. Pierce refrained from tapping his foot. If they were going to be so scared and indecisive, then he would grab the notebook from the General's hands and open it himself.

The soldier who drew the short straw went to the second container, his hands visibly shaking as he unlocked the door. It opened with a hiss, fog clouding the air for a moment before finally clearing and showing him his first prize.

She was smaller than he thought she would be. He really needed to stop thinking of the assets as people, but it was hard when he saw her soft face and blonde hair, ice crystals sparkling in the tangles. His first thought was that really, she was beautiful. Beautiful and deadly, his favorite combination.

The soldiers removed her mask and unhooked her body rapidly, moving her towards the chair. Pierce wondered why they hurried so much, but then her eyes snapped open, the green boring into the men holding her. A guttural, feral scream poured from her and she writhed sharply, her movements betraying the strength her smaller body held. More soldiers ran to the first ones' aid, all of them shouting and struggling to hold onto the asset. Thuds and groans sounded as she landed hits with her bony elbows and knees. In the end it took six soldiers to wrestle her into the chair and strap her in, her screams still cleaving their ears.

She was perfect.

It took a minute for him to realize that she wasn't just screaming anymore, but instead screaming a name. Barnes.

"So it's true, then?" Pierce asked, raising his voice just enough for it to carry to the General. "They really are the missing Howlies?"

"They used to be." the General said. "Now they're just weapons. If you can't remember that, then you can't have 'em."

Pierce smiled. He loved owning things that were one of a kind. Sure, he was planning on using them to create more, but nothing ever beat the original.

"Oh, I'm very aware that they're assets." he said. They were the perfect assets. Electricity buzzed as the soldiers turned the machine on. The asset's screaming stopped, and her pretty green eyes went wide with absolute terror.

"No." she said, her muscles straining as she fought against the metal restrains. "No, no, no-"

The soldiers stuffed a gum shield in her mouth, and her pink lips worked to spit it out, but the machine kicked into gear, closing over her and making her screams return, this time in pain. It was so loud, so inefficient. He'd have to find a way to streamline the process.

"This has to be done every time?" he asked.

"If you want them to listen, yea." the General replied with a laugh. "Otherwise they just keep screaming and fighting. Very annoying."

"Yes, that sounds like it." Pierce agreed. The machine stopped and so did the screaming, leaving the asset sobbing quietly. The General stepped forward and began reading the list of words, the Russian tumbling awkwardly from his tongue. Pierce thought the clumsy pronunciation wouldn't work, but with each word the life left the asset's eyes, a little at a time, until she stared blankly at the General.

"Let her free." he said. The soldiers looked hesitant at first, so he repeated the order, and they undid the restraints one by one. Pierce half expected her to leap into action again, this time slaughtering everyone in her wake, but instead she just sat. "Soldat?" the General asked, his drawl once again making the word sound wrong.

"Ready to comply." Summer said in Russian. Pierce knew that phrase too.

"Good. Stand up, and we'll wake up your partner." the General said. Did Pierce imagine it, or was there a flicker of emotion on her face at the word? It was gone before he could identify it, and she fluidly slid from the chair and stood to the side. The other soldiers gave her a wide berth, and while they didn't want to stare directly at her, they kept checking on her, as if waiting for her to strike.

A lucky few got to go to the other tube and break it open. They pulled his mask off quickly, either to get air to him faster or because they were afraid he would bite, Pierce wasn't sure. It was more difficult for them to get the second asset to the chair, but at least he stayed asleep for most of it. Summer watched the procession with cool indifference, her gaze locked on her partner. His eyes fluttered open as they buckled the restraints and Summer barely shifted her weight towards him.

"What?" he said, testing the restraints once. He blinked rapidly as consciousness returned, but the soldiers were already forcing the gum shield into his mouth and kicking the machine back on. His chest heaved rapidly as he looked around and pulled at the cuffs, his eyes finally landing on Summer. She didn't move, didn't speak, didn't even change her expression this time. She just watched as the machine attached itself and started electrocuting him. This time, the screams were deeper, and louder, and even more obnoxious. It was absolutely barbaric. Couldn't they just inject them or something? That's what Howard would do.

Hmm. Maybe he could somehow trick Howard into making something. It wouldn't be the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. His kid just went off to college and he was looking to avoid time at home, where Maria always talked about their poor boy.

When the machine and the screaming stopped, the General repeated the process, the words sounding like a lullaby to Pierce's eager ears. After all this time, all the legends and the whispered stories, he finally got to see them. He finally got to own them.

When Winter was ready to comply, they released him too, and he took his spot next to Summer. She immediately moved to his right, to cover the arm that was still flesh and blood. They both looked to the General like dogs waiting for an order. This was even better than Pierce ever imagined.

"Happy?" the General said, gesturing towards the merchandise.

"Very." Pierce said. "Can I see a demonstration?"

"What kind of demonstration?" the General asked, his eyes narrowed. Pierce found the soldier that was rude to him earlier, and the man visibly gulped as they made eye contact. He needed to learn to respect his superiors, and Pierce was only too happy to teach him.

"Pick your poison, soldier." he said. The man looked to the General. Mistake.

"Answer the question." the General said, crossing his arms. He sounded annoyed, and Pierce didn't care if it was towards the soldier or towards him.

The soldier let out a shuddering breath. "Her, sir." he said. They often said Summer was the lesser of them, but Pierce thought she should get more credit. The General nodded and turned to her.

"Detain him." he said, gesturing towards the man. All his brothers in arms immediately stepped away, leaving a clear path for Summer. She rolled her shoulders and her neck, the joints cracking loudly, and calmly stalked towards him like a predator after prey.

The man stood his ground, shifting his feet to a staggered defensive position, though his quivering chin and shaking arms said he clearly wanted to run. The General moved next to Pierce, watching as Summer swung a fist at amazing speed. The soldier tried to dodge, but her knuckles clipped his jaw, the minimal force enough to send him spinning. He managed to get his feet underneath him and his adrenaline took over, and this time when Summer went to punch him he was able to block it.

Summer wasn't thrown by his rebuttal. Instead, her movements became faster, sharper, and instead of blocking and attacking the man could do nothing but try and stay out of her reach. Other soldiers moved out of their way as he kept stumbling back, his lip bleeding and one eye swelling from glancing blows alone. Pierce wondered what would happen if she actually hit him.

"Full force." the General reminded her, and Pierce got to see her true strength. In two steps she tackled the soldier to the ground, his head smacking the concrete hard and the air leaving his lungs in a loud rush. With no hesitation she flipped him to his stomach and wrenched his wrists behind him, her knee digging into his back and keeping him from breathing fully. Each gasp came with a groan as he gave up fighting.

"Wonderful." Pierce said. She was, by all means, the best weapon he'd ever seen. "She's brilliant."

"You know there's rules. With both of them." the General said.

"I know the words, and I know they need to be reactivated often to keep up the efficiency."

"No, more than that." he said, turning to him. His eyes were cold now. "They are weapons. Never use them for…more than that. Ever."

Was he implying that he would use these assets for his own derisive pleasure? Pierce looked again at Summer, with her blonde hair and green eyes. Yes, he supposed he could see how some men could be tempted by her beauty. But those kinds of men were short sighted, unable to see beyond her tits and her face to the stunning enforcer underneath.

"Noted." he said. He looked to Summer, her blank face appraising him. "Kill him."

She didn't move, but the man underneath squirmed. She didn't move, but she did hold him steady.

"Did you hear me?" he said, louder this time. "I said kill him."

"Ah, that's the beauty of the system." the General said with a smirk. "You say the words, you're the commanding officer. Summer, let him go."

Summer released her hold and stood up, going back to her position next to Winter. Their eyes met for a moment, and Pierce wondered if the rumors were true, and they had a weird mental connection that allowed them to speak without words. He also wondered how truly deep their loyalties ran.

"I'd like another demonstration, please." Pierce said, nodding towards the two of them. The General furrowed his brows and checked his watch.

"You want them to fight each other?" he asked with a sigh. He didn't sound astounded. He sounded bored.

"Is that a problem?"

"Well, no, they'll do it." he said with a shrug. "They're the only ones strong enough to punish each other. He just always wins."

"Does he?" Pierce asked. After seeing Summer's speed and mobility, he had trouble believing it.

"Every time." he said.

"Perhaps this time is different." Pierce said. The General sighed, like a father placating a spoiled child.

"Fine. Summer, detain Winter. Winter, detain Summer."

Pierce thought they would hesitate, that they would look at each other the same way the other soldiers did when given orders they didn't like. But he was wrong. Summer turned and sank a punch into Winter's flank, but he barely even flinched. He moved with the hit, reaching around to grab her wrist, the metal gears grinding at the speed.

Summer knew the metal arm was coming, and she knew how to evade it. She kicked his knee, using the momentum to move backwards as he was forced to spin his weight to his other foot. He rushed her, and she ducked in time to miss the swing from the metal arm. But the flesh one was too fast, grabbing her by her tangled hair. Pierce thought it would be over then, but she jabbed Winter's elbow hard with her own, the bones cracking slightly and his fingers loosening. She dropped out of his grip, a few blonde strands still stuck between his fingers, and kicked his legs out from underneath him.

The fight with the soldier was a warm up. This was the real show.

Winter caught himself with his metal hand, the concrete cracking under the weight of the landing. His left knee caught the rest of his weight while he kicked out with his other foot, the sole of his boot catching Summer square in the chest and sending her sliding across the floor. She rolled back onto her feet and coughed, blood splattering onto the ground, but her eyes never left his. They ran at each other, ignoring their injuries, and continued their dance.

It was spectacular. Pierce felt like a kid on Christmas again, opening his presents to find the exact toys he wanted. Oh, the things he was going to accomplish with these two. Hydra was underutilizing them; the days of spies was over with the Cold War, it was time for big moves. It was time for powerful moves.

Winter finally pinned Summer. Her legs were around his waist, squeezing the life out of him, his metal hand was on her neck. Pierce noticed he wasn't applying enough pressure to actually choke her, he was just threatening to. Winter's right hand went to her hip, his fingers clenching around the hem of her shirt despite the visible swelling and bruising in his broken forearm. She shifted her legs and he moved just a hair closer.

"Told you, he always wins." the General said.

"What's happening with this?" he asked, gesturing to them. Winter and Summer looked at each other. They didn't move, at least not with any big, sweeping gestures, but Pierce could see the subtle shifts of their bodies, as if they remembered something that their brains forgot.

"Ah, they're old, man. They do weird shit sometimes." the General said. "Some instincts run too deep I guess, you know what I mean?" he laughed. He lashed a hand out, the red journal thumping Pierce in the chest. Hard. "All the freaky details are in here, if you read Russian."

Pierce took the book from him and held it gently, reverently. "Thank you." he said sharply. He would not fawn over the book or his prizes right now. This was simply an arms deal, and one that had lasted entirely too long. "Give me the routing number for your employer, please."

The General took a business card from his pocket, a hand written number on the back. He gestured again at one of the soldiers, and they rolled out an honest to God rotary phone like he was a mobster taking a call in a restaurant in 1923. Pierce called his banker in Switzerland, disregarding the time difference, and transferred the agreed funds to the new account.

"Hydra thanks you for your donation." the General said when Pierce hung up. "And for your continued service to the cause."

"Always willing to do what's needed." Pierce replied. He pulled out his own business card and a pen, writing down the address for his favorite underground storage facility. "Have them delivered here. Call me before you arrive."

"Pleasure doing business, Mr. Pierce." the General said, taking his card and shaking his hand.

"Trust me, General." Pierce said, unable to hide his grin. "The pleasure is all mine."

Alexander Pierce was a busy man.

And he was about to be even busier.

Okay I know it's sad after all they've been through but I kind of like writing Winter and Summer again? IDK I'm all about origin stories and historical things.

As always, I can't thank y'all enough for your reviews and supports. Thank you for being patient with me while I update. I said this last week with SaH, but just in case you don't read that one, I'm going to an every-other update schedule. I just can't keep up with two stories a week without burning out.

Hope y'all have a wonderful week, please tell me what you thought!

-XM