Chapter 15

Seventeen hours later I was trekking through the ankle-deep snow of a forested valley about a half-hour's drive from Rogan's base. My objective was a tired-looking caravan parked amongst the trees just outside of a small tourist town. The four-by-four that had brought it here sat to one side and was equally worn.

This was where Romanoff was staying. I didn't know why she was here or what Rogan had in mind for her, nor did I care. My mission was simply to bring her to him alive.

I wore a gray jacket over my fatigues, though the cold afternoon air wasn't an issue for me. The freezing temperature was refreshing. A handgun was strapped to my thigh, but I wouldn't be needing it.

I placed my feet carefully so as not to make too much noise as I approached the caravan, staying out of the patch of warm light shining through the curtain of its small window. I reached the door and raised my hand to turn the handle.

The door unlocked suddenly and I stepped back to avoid being hit as it swung open. Romanoff stood in the doorway, a gun aimed at my head. A stunned expression crossed her face as she stared at me. "Bucky?"

I briefly wondered who Bucky was, but that thought was irrelevant so I pushed it aside. Before Romanoff had recovered from her surprise, I reached out and snatched her gun out of her grip. Then I curled my metal hand around her throat, pulling her out of the caravan and slamming her back against its wall. I held her wrists together with my other hand so she couldn't reach for any other possible weapons as I applied pressure to her throat, cutting off her air supply.

Romanoff's eyes were wide with shock as she tried in vain to draw a breath, struggling futilely. "What's … wrong with you?" she choked.

"Nothing." I continued to hold her there until her eyes rolled back in her head and she sagged limply in my grip. Then I checked to make sure she didn't have any other weapons and carried her in my arms back to the Ural waiting on the muddy forest road.

I passed Romanoff to the soldier in the back of the truck and then climbed in and closed the tailgate as he bound her. I gave a sharp rap on the wall between us and the driver's cab, and sat down on one of the benches as we started down the bumpy track. The soldier closed the canvas flap at the back of the truck to prevent anyone from seeing in once we reached the main road.

When we arrived back at the base I climbed out of the truck and walked to where Rogan stood waiting. "Mission complete," I reported.

"Excellent." Rogan smiled. "Good work, Soldier."

We watched as Romanoff's unconscious body was lowered from the truck into the arms of a waiting soldier. The man carried her into the main building of the complex and we followed. It was a short trip to Room 37, where Romanoff was strapped into the unnamed machine.

She began to stir as Rogan and one of his scientists adjusted the machine's settings, talking quietly about allowing for a lack of enhancements. I saw her expression change from one of confusion to fear as she took in her surroundings. Then her gaze locked on me. "Bucky," she breathed.

"Good. You're awake." Rogan looked up from the computers and gave Romanoff a brief smile.

"Who are you?" she demanded. Her voice was husky from the near-strangling, and edged with panic.

"Someone who wants to improve the world," Rogan replied. "And you're going to help."

The arms of the machine moved down automatically to cup Romanoff's face and she began to struggle violently, trying to break free. I didn't understand why she fought it so much. Yes, it caused pain, but in the end it only made one better, more able to fulfill the purpose Rogan had given.

"Bucky!" Romanoff yelled, and this time she sounded terrified.

Rogan turned to me. "Back to your room, Soldat," he ordered, so I left, my handler falling in beside me as I started down the hall.

Behind us in Room 37, the screaming started.

Two days later, my handler came to get me. He took me to the training room, where Rogan waited with another two soldiers and Romanoff.

This time, the assassin didn't call me Bucky or make any move to draw my attention. She was silent and alert, as she was supposed to be.

"Romanoff is ready to work with us now, Soldat," Rogan announced. "She now goes by the name Natalia, and she will help us bring justice to the world.

That was good.

Rogan turned to Natalia, gesturing to me. "The Soldier will be your trainer. We must make sure you are functional, da?"

"Da," she replied simply.

Rogan smiled. "Good." To me he added, "Bring her to me when she is ready for her first mission."

"Da, General."

After three days of training, I deemed Natalia ready for a mission. She showed proficient tactical skill and excelled in each physical challenge I set her. Once she understood what Rogan was trying to achieve she'd obeyed orders perfectly too, ready to do her best for the General.

Now she needed an opportunity to prove her loyalty.

Rogan summoned us to a bare office room on the fourth morning and held up a photo of a slim man in his early forties with brown hair and a clean-shaven face. He wore a quiver on his back. "This man is currently in Sochi," Rogan explained. "I want you to bring him to me alive. Don't be seen and don't get caught."

"Yes, General," Natalia said simply. We didn't need to know why the stranger had to be captured or who he was. All we needed was a location.

Rogan provided us with the mission details and we left to prepare.