Smithsonian Institute…
The old security guard strolled through the Captain America exhibit, whistling a tune as he made his final rounds. The doors would be opening soon, and the inevitable crowds would come flooding in.
Entering the central display area, he happened to look up. What he saw –or didn't see, for that matter– made him stop in his tracks as he gasped.
"Oh, man," he said, shaking his head. "I am so fired."
There, a bare mannequin stood proudly beside the other authentic Howling Commando uniforms, absent Captain America's uniform and helmet.
January 12th, 2014; Triskelion…
"And how was your flight?" Pierce asked as he walked beside the members of the World Security Council through the atrium. The Triskelion was abuzz with activity, personnel hurrying to and fro as Project Insight neared its launch.
"Lovely," Councilwoman Hawley replied. "The ride from the airport, less so."
He smirked. "Sadly, S.H.I.E.L.D. can't control everything."
"Including Captain America," Councilman Rockwell said dryly.
Pierce resisted the urge to say what he really felt. Soon enough, fatuous, pointless bureaucrats like the Council would be wiped from the board. An agent approached them with a briefcase, which opened to reveal specially designed ID badges. "This facility is biometrically controlled," he explained, holding the briefcase before each of them. "And these will give you unrestricted access."
All four of them took one, pinning it to their suit jackets. Pierce never liked leaving anything to chance. If any of them presented a problem, he'd be able to eliminate it with the push of a button.
Soon enough, HYDRA would reign supreme.
Ellen watched the primary operations control room. It had become a hive of activity with the final preparations for Project Insight. Within the next two hours, the whole world order would be turned on its head and chiseled down to proper size. No longer would a destructive, selfish, bloated humanity continue to destroy the planet in an aimless quest for pleasure and wealth.
With HYDRA taking the helm and guiding the lives of ordinary people, Earth would know the first true global peace in all its history.
Stepping out of the control room, she strolled down the hallways. Her jaw ached when she swallowed, causing her to grimace. Ellen gingerly touched the spot where Romanoff had kicked her at the causeway battle. A nasty bruise had already begun forming, which she'd managed to cover with enough concealer. The battles and stresses of the last few days had each left their mark, but all the pain would be worth it.
She stopped by a trio of curved, wall-spanning windows that offered a prime view of the Potomac River. The launch bays were located below the waterline, waiting to disgorge their contents.
After all these years –all she'd suffered– Ellen would finally see a better world. The world she and her father had fought for. All the blood and pain and secrets would be worth it in the end once the project achieved its goal. No more would little girls suffer at the hands of terrorists or predators. No more would innocent men and women watch their governments lead their countries to ruin. No more would corporations run roughshod over the planet in their never-ending search for profit at the expense of people's wellbeing.
HYDRA's victory was at hand.
She crossed her arms over her chest, sighing. Just a few more hours. After twelve years, it seemed such a small amount of time. And yet, it felt torturously slow. She had half a mind to ordering a pre-emptive launch. But that wasn't an option. Even now, her father entertained the World Security Council members in the council chambers. Every agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. would be watching. The eyes of the world were on them today, so it had to be done right.
"Come on, Maria, I know you've seen my messages by now."
Ellen looked to her right, at a nearby grouping of elevator doors. A muscular agent stood with his back to her, a phone pressed to his ear. He seemed familiar.
He released a heavy sigh. "Okay, I get if you don't want to talk to me. That's fine. I just want you to be safe, okay? With all the crazy shit that's been going down, I'm getting nervous. Call it…call it instinct. Just trust me on this, okay? I don't want to be the one who explains to Samantha why her mother got hurt." He hung up, exhaling as he turned around. "Hey, Pierce."
Now she recognized him. "Hey Masters. Been a long time."
"Same," he said, strolling to join her by the window.
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," she told him apologetically.
Masters brushed it off. "Nah, don't worry about it. I should've picked somewhere quieter to make that call."
"Problems?"
He hesitated, regarding her with an unreadable expression. "Just hashing out some things with my ex. I guess the last few days have made me jumpy. Fury dying, Captain freaking America becoming a fugitive, that crazy battle yesterday, it just…Makes a guy paranoid, y'know?"
She nodded. "Yeah, I think I do."
"So," Masters said, crossing his arms. "Today's the big day."
"Sure is."
He scanned the hallway, then leaned close and lowered his voice. "You're close with your old man, yeah?"
Ellen looked at him, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Yeah…"
"He'd tell you if something were wrong with the launch? Or with anything else about today?"
"Why do you ask?"
Masters shrugged. "I don't know. You work with S.H.I.E.L.D. long enough, I guess you expect danger from every corner. You know what I'm feeling, right? After all, you've been on the frontlines since day one."
"Same as you," Ellen replied.
"Sure, sure. But I've always been more of a solo act. You're the team player." She watched him through the corner of her eye as he stared out the window. After a few moments of silence, he said, "Well, I'd better stop bugging you. I gotta find the john. I'll see ya around, Pierce."
"You, too," she said as he walked away. Ellen stared after him for a while. Something about that whole conversation felt off, but she couldn't place why. A trio of agents came around the corner, walking behind her as she leaned against the window.
"Attention, all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents," a familiar voice echoed through the building.
Ellen's heart skipped a beat, and she looked up at the speakers in the ceiling. No, he couldn't be here. Not now, not today. Somehow, he'd managed to clandestinely enter the building without tripping any alarms or getting caught by the half dozen tracking algorithms she'd installed into the city's cameras. He must have had help. A few feet away, the three other agents stopped to listen.
"This is Steve Rogers. You've heard a lot about me over the last few days. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time you know the truth. S.H.I.E.L.D. is not what we thought it was."
A cold shiver ran up and down Ellen's spine.
"It's been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce is their leader."
"Hey Pierce," one of the agents beside her said, "isn't that your–"
This was the mission.
Ellen whirled around, drawing her sidearm. She shot all three agents in the head in less than five seconds. They fell to the floor, blood leaking through the holes between their eyes. "Fuck," Ellen hissed. "Fuck!" Tapping her earpiece, she contacted Rumlow. "Are you hearing this?"
"Of course I am!" he bit back. "The whole goddamned building is."
"The S.T.R.I.K.E. and Insight crews are HYDRA as well," Steve continued over the intercom. "I don't know how many more. But I know they're in the building."
"Okay, we need to move fast before this all goes to hell. Send Team 1 to the council chambers to protect my father, and Teams 2 and 3 to the bay to secure the Helicarriers. Take Team 4 to the control room and pre-empt the launch."
"That's not–" he started to protest.
"I don't give a shit what you're thinking right now! Just get those Helicarriers into the air! Nothing else matters."
"Copy that."
Ellen walked over to the nearest elevator and frantically tapped the call button. She kept a secret armoury for her gear in the building for emergency situations. She just had to get to it in time. The elevator dinged, and as she stepped inside, her phone vibrated. A message appeared on her screen, one which she knew would be transmitted to every HYDRA transceiver on the planet.
Out of the shadows…and into the light. Hail HYDRA.
Tony stopped when he heard Captain America's voice overhead. He'd been reflecting on his conversation with Ellen Pierce as he passed through the rows of cubicles. Everyone else stopped, too, staring at the ceiling as the world's first superhero revealed HYDRA's existence. Tony knew that Pierce and her father would be at the forefront of whatever happened today. But now that their secret was out, they'd retaliate to stay in control.
A part of him had always known it would end in chaos like this. Since he first took the contract to train Pierce over a decade ago. He'd been trying to reach Maria since last night, only to get her voicemail each time. Fury's assassination, Captain America on the run, and the insane battle on the causeway he knew the Winter Soldier and Ellen Pierce –in her disguise– started. Decades of training and instincts told him something terrible was about to go down, and he needed to make sure Maria was safe.
If only she'd return his damned calls.
Now, he stood in a room with over a dozen people as Captain America spoke to the whole Triskelion. "The S.T.R.I.K.E. and Insight crews are HYDRA as well. I don't know how many more," he said. Tony frowned, remembering how he and Brock Rumlow used to butt heads during Pierce's training. Maybe now he could finally break that arrogant prick's jaw. "But I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you."
Everyone in the room regarded each other nervously. Tony didn't want to start moving, since he knew that would trigger a fight in a high-stress situation like this. But he did keep his hands at his sides, hovering over his sidearm.
"They almost have what they want. Absolute control. They shot Nick Fury. And it won't end there. If you launch those Helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way. Unless we stop them. I know I'm asking a lot. But the price of freedom is high. It always has been. And it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not."
The intercom cut out, and a deathly silence fell over the room.
Tony's fingers curled onto the grip of his sidearm, eyes flitting between every man and woman in sight. Two agents near the door drew their weapons, causing a chain reaction as nearly everyone else drew theirs. Five desk jockeys elected to hide. Tony pressed himself against a nearby wall so the others would be in his field of vision.
A man and woman at the far end of the room looked at each other. Nodded. Then they shot the people closest to them. HYDRA moles, Tony figured. He managed to shoot the woman between the eyes as others dropped all around him. A bald man joined in the chaos, smiling as he executed one of the women hiding under a desk. Tony threw himself to the floor as the HYDRA agents focused their fire on him.
Rolling back into a cubicle, he reached up to the desk and grabbed a pair of scissors. The bald man came around the corner and aimed at his chest. Tony shot to his feet, knocking the man's arm to the side and stabbing the scissors into his chest. The bald man grunted, surprise blooming on his face. Tony then used him as a human shield when the other moles shot at him. He grabbed the man's gun, still in his hand, and used it to shoot the moles in the chest.
Tossing the corpse aside, he looked at the surviving agents. "Get outta here. Go!"
They nodded, hastily fleeing the room.
"Jesus Christ," he muttered as he collected spare clips from the dead agents.
Rumlow drew his gun and pointed it at the back of Agent Klein's head. "Move away from your station."
The rest of the room burst into activity, everyone with a weapon drawing it as S.T.R.I.K.E. members, regular agents, and techs aimed at each other. Sharon Carter aimed hers at Rumlow's head. "Like he said: Captain's orders."
He seethed, glaring at her. "You picked the wrong side, agent." He pressed the barrel of his pistol into Klein's head, causing the man to stutter and gasp in terror.
"Depends on where you're standing."
After a long, tense moment, Rumlow lowered his weapon and dropped it on the floor. He then drew his knife, quick as a blink, and slashed Carter on the arm. He then caught her gun and shot at the nearest loyal S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Gunshots erupted across the control room, as if a grenade went off after getting its pin pulled.
Carter kicked the agent out of his chair, saving his life. Rumlow hunched over the keyboard, madly typing as he inputted the command codes. The large screen on the wall flashed in bold, red letters.
OVERRIDE.
Carter rolled under a desk, then started shooting at Rumlow as he fled the room.
Outside the building, alarms wailed as the three massive bay doors began sliding open. As men and women died across the Triskelion, the three Insight Helicarriers activated their state of the art propulsion engines and lifted off.
The whole world had been flipped on its head in an instant. One speech, and now it looked like S.H.I.E.L.D. would tear itself apart. The smartest, most practical thing to do, Tony knew, would be to escape the building and leave this clusterfuck behind. Except he had to know if Maria was in the building or not. Walking out into the hallway, he started making his way towards the administration level. He'd start his search there and work his way down.
He took his phone out and dialed Maria's number. It inevitably went to voicemail. "Maria, it's me. Where the hell are you? Everything's going to shit. S.H.I.E.L.D. is going down, and we have to leave before it takes us down with it."
Ending the call, he approached another section of cubicles. The body of a middle-aged woman, an office manager, laid on the floor, propping the door open. He heard gunshots and screaming inside. Opening the door, he saw three men standing beside none other than Ellen Pierce. They shot someone out of view, then relaxed.
"I need to get my gear," Pierce told them. "Secure this room, then start a sweep of the floor."
"Understood," one of the men replied.
Tony charged into the room, kicking one of the men in the chest and knocking him to the floor. Ellen Pierce moved back, while the other two tried to engage in close quarters. Tony kneed one of the men in the stomach, causing him to double over. He rolled over the man's back, avoiding a knife slash from the third man. The first man, now back on his feet, tried to shoot him. Tony grabbed a letter opener on one of the nearby desks and hurled it into the man's eye, eliciting a howl of rage and agony.
Tony delivered a finger jab into the second man's throat, then a devastating one-inch punch to his chest. The man collapsed onto his back, choking and gurgling as he struggled to breathe. Ellen Pierce shot at Tony several times, forcing him to hide behind one of the cubicle walls. Pistol in hand, he rushed into another cubicle then tossed an empty coffee mug down the aisle. The last man hurried in that direction, fooled by the distraction.
Tony shot him in the back twice.
With the grace of a trained gymnast, Ellen Pierce balanced across the cubicle walls to get a better angle and shot at him. Tony threw himself out of the way, returning fire. Pierce hopped down, taking selective shots as he found cover across the room. He fired back three times, then his pistol clicked as he ran out of ammo. Shit. Pierce, grinning, crept along the aisle towards him.
Thinking fast, Tony ejected the clip. Seeing it fall towards the floor, he reared his foot back, then kicked the clip at Pierce as if it were a soccer ball at the FIFA world cup. It struck her on the forehead, causing her to reflexively close her eyes and hiss in pain.
He charged, shoulder-checking her through one of the cubicle walls. She grunted as her back slammed into one of the desks, then pushed him away with one foot. Pierce then leaped onto him, corkscrewing around and using her body's momentum to throw him to the floor. Using his years of assembled training, he managed to land on his feet. Then, he performed the exact same move, throwing her to the floor.
She quickly got back to her feet, her brow furrowed in confusion. "How the hell did you do that?"
Tony shrugged. If he could just put her off balance…
"It's like John Wayne used to say: "Tomorrow hopes we have learned something from yesterday."
Pierce's eyes widened, her whole body stilling as the revelation set in. The realization that he'd known her secret all this time, while she hadn't had a clue about his. Sufficiently distracted, she didn't react in time to avoid the punch to her gut. Pierce wheezed as the breath was driven from her lungs, her eyes bulging in their sockets as she doubled over. He then grabbed her by her collar and belt and tossed her down the aisle like a garbage bag on collection day.
"Sorry it has to end like this, kid," he said. "But I gotta look after me and mine."
Pierce groaned, clutching her stomach as she rolled over to face him. "We shouldn't be fighting at all. I can write you a check right now."
He shook his head. "Not this time."
"I should've known. Today will change the world for the better. And you've only been in it for the money. You don't know what it's like, devoting your life to a cause."
"Actually, I do. But I wouldn't expect your Neo-Nazi friends to understand. I give Captain America and his pals decent odds of beating you. He did it before."
She looked into his eyes as he stood over her, lips curled in a frown. "So what now? You going to kill me?"
"No. Consider this a courtesy. One I don't give to just anyone. I always did like you, kid."
One of the north-facing doors smashed open, revealing several S.T.R.I.K.E. agents in full tactical gear. Pierce rolled backwards into an adjacent aisle as the agents took notice of him.
"Aw, shit!" he growled, ducking as a hail of bullets came screaming at him. He ran to the other side of the room, flinching as walls were perforated, monitors were destroyed, and bits of paper flew into the air like snow. Reaching one of the doors, he bid a hasty retreat, leaving Pierce and her HYDRA pals behind.
Councilman Singh threw away the glass of champagne, shattering the glass on the floor. Pierce regarded him for a moment, disappointed yet entertained by the pointless display of integrity. He chuckled, holding out a hand to one of the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents, who gave him a pistol. Outside, the Helicarriers' massive guns boomed as they fired on the flying hostile. He then aimed at the Councilman's chest, savouring the man's look of terror as he prepared to pull the trigger.
Councilwoman Hawley kicked Singh out of the way. Pierce, too flabbergasted at the sight of a woman her age displaying such physical ability, couldn't stop her from grabbing his gun arm, punching him in the face, then tossing an electrified disc at the nearest S.T.R.I.K.E. agent. She then dispatched the rest of the agents with a dizzying combination of acrobatic moves and more straightforward punches and kicks. Far too fast for him to track.
Pierce touched a finger to his split lip, watching her pick up a discarded gun and aim it at him. How the hell had she done all this?
Hawley touched her right temple, and in response her face began to distort. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice crackling as if she spoke through a running fan. The woman peeled the distortion off her face –which Pierce recognized as a Photostatic Veil– revealing Natasha Romanoff. Pulling the brown wig off her head, she asked, "Did I step on your moment?"
Having finally reached her secret armoury, Ellen slipped on her green catsuit with accompanying disguise, then equipped herself with every edged weapon, pistol, and machine pistol she could carry.
Tony Masters. This whole time he'd been right under her nose. The man who trained her, honed her abilities to a razor's edge. They'd spent the better part of a year together, and she had no idea as to his true identity. He always wore a full suit of armour, true enough, but she should've been smarter than this. Ellen had enjoyed nearly unrestricted access to almost every S.H.I.E.L.D. secret for years now.
She should have recognized that one of the most accomplished Specialists in their history was secretly the world's greatest mercenary.
Looking back on their every interaction in S.H.I.E.L.D., passing though they might have been, she realized he must have been holding back his true potential this whole time. One more way to remain inconspicuous. Right now, it didn't matter. All that mattered was securing the Helicarriers and ensuring they reached their target altitude. Taskmaster would most likely die from a long-range precision cannon. A rather ignoble end for such a talented man.
Armed and equipped, Ellen led the portion of Team 2 to the nearest landing pad, where a Quinjet awaited them. Stepping inside, the called out to the pilots, "Get us to the nearest Helicarrier, now!"
"Yes, ma'am," one of them replied.
The boarding ramp sealed, and they lifted off.
Ellen paced as they flew through the chaotic D.C. skies, stroking her lower lip as she tried to control the rising tide of nervousness inside her. Her earpiece beeped, and she tapped it. "Go ahead," she said in her simulated Slavic voice.
"Reporting for duty."
She stopped, recognizing the voice. The cold efficiency, the lack of inflection. The Winter Soldier. Hearing him speak made her think of something, something regarding him in particular. What was it? She saw the bank vault where his handlers were based, but beyond that nothing came to mind.
It felt important, but she just couldn't see what it might have been.
Ignoring the feeling, she said, "First priority: eliminate any S.H.I.E.L.D. air support and flight personnel. We need to maintain control of the skies. Once that's complete, take a Quinjet to IN-03 and guard the targeting module. Kill anyone that enters and protect that module at all costs." If Steve and his friends had any chance of disabling the Helicarriers, their best target would be the targeting arrays.
"Understood."
The transmission ended, and Ellen saw IN-01 growing through the cockpit window. They approached its port side, keeping level with one of the emergency access hatches. The boarding ramp lowered, and Ellen stepped towards the edge as the winds whipped at her hair. Opening the control panel, she inputted the entry code. The hatch slid open. Pointing to the four members of Team 2, she said, "You, inside with me." To the pilots, she said, "Once we're in, go after that asshole with the wings and shoot him down."
"Copy that."
She and the others stepped through the hatch. The Quinjet's ramp sealed shut once they disembarked, then it blasted off in pursuit of Sam Wilson and his fancy wingsuit. "This way," she told her escort, guiding them through the Helicarrier's interior.
It didn't take them long to reach the glass dome on the ship's belly. Walking along the metal catwalks, they came upon the central computer, designed around the array of targeting blades that allowed the Helicarrier to seamlessly apply Zola's algorithm while coordinating with its sister ships. The Triskelion and the Potomac River were visible through the glass, shrinking as they rose higher into the air.
"Okay," Ellen said, looking around. "You four take position along the upper walkways. If anyone tries to approach, shoot on sight. I'll stay here by the array."
The agents nodded, then climbed stairs to the upper level of the dome.
She paced in front of the computer, idly cracking her knuckles. She felt thin, stretched, as two equal forces fought a tug-of-war inside her. One hated waiting and just wanted it to end. The other found refuge in the waiting, unable to bear what the next few minutes would bring. Wilson had flown to IN-02, which meant Steve was on this ship, fighting his way down to her right now. Ellen Pierce dreaded the thought of having to fight and potentially kill him, while Madame Hydra was prepared to do anything for the mission.
This was the mission.
In the end, she didn't have to wait long. One of the maintenance hatches at the far end of the dome flew off its hinges, and Steve came rushing through it. Having lost access to his S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform after the causeway battle, he'd reacquired his World War II padded battle uniform. He looked just like he did in all those old film reels she'd watched as a girl. The stalwart, noble defender of the free world. The man who'd inspired her to fight for what she believed in.
The man she cared for, with all her heart.
The four agents started shooting the moment Steve came into view. He raised his shield, blocking the bullets, then burst into action. With unnatural speed, he sprinted across the walkway then leaped through the air. Catching the left upper walkway, he hauled himself up and flipped over until he stood next to Perkins and Newport. A punch to the chest knocked Newport out cold, while a roundhouse kick knocked Perkins over the railing. She screamed as she fell towards the glass below.
Michelsen and Samuels kept shooting at Steve, who tore a grenade free from Newport's belt. He pulled the pin and threw it at them. It exploded between them, killing them instantly. That section of walkway tore free from its supports, dropping until it cracked the dome.
Ellen drew a machine pistol and shot quick bursts at Steve. With the others gone, only the two of them remained. 'Perhaps that's how it should have been,' she thought.
He cocked his arm back and threw the shield at her. She barely ducked in time, feeling the rush of air just above her head. It bounced off the railing beside her and back to its owner, who had leapt from the upper walkway. Catching the shield, he brought it down in an overhead slice aimed at her chest. Ellen rolled out of the way. Whirling around to face him, she aimed her machine pistol at his legs and squeezed the trigger. Partly to avoid damaging the array, and partly as a distraction.
As expected, Steve crouched and held the shield low, blocking the bullets. Ellen then lunged forward, gripping the railing as she aimed a pair of flying kicks at his head. He darted under her faster than any man, then launched his own attacks.
Ellen gasped as she pivoted to avoid an uppercut that would have surely broken her jaw. She flashed back to all those times she and Steve had sparred in the gym. There had been a sense of playfulness, a certain kind of intimacy that only two masters of combat could share. Even though he'd restrained himself those times, he still beat her more often than not.
There was no restraint now. He fought her with everything he had, intending to remove her as an obstacle to his plan.
Grabbing a knife with her left hand, Ellen lunged with the machine pistol in her right, as if she meant to hit him with it. He dodged, then batted the weapon out of her hand. In the same instant, she dropped low, drew her knife, and slashed him across the thigh in one swift motion. He grunted, reacting by driving his other knee into her face. Her vision flashed white as she tumbled back, rolling to stay on her feet.
When Steve came at her next, she slid away through the gap in the railing and flipped around to his rear. He turned to face Ellen just in time for her elbow to connect with his face. The blow barely fazed him, and he ducked to avoid a knife slash. Springing forward, he used his shield to bounce her back as if she were a pinball. Ellen landed on her back, grimacing as the grid-like pattern of the metal dug into her skin.
Rising to her feet, she drew a pistol from her left thigh holster and shot at him. He blocked, giving her enough time to extend the whip from her right gauntlet. Cranking up the electricity, she threw the whip at him. It cracked against his shield, leaving a thin line of black scoring. Throwing away the pistol once the clip ran empty, Ellen focused on throwing her whip at Steve again and again.
It cracked against his shield, then the walkway when he dodged, the electricity arcing like the heartbeat of an angry god. Ellen gritted her teeth, hating the fact she had to do this. Steve, having crept his way forward between her attacks, aimed a kick at her knee. Thinking fast, she gripped the railings with both hands and launched forward out of the way. She retreated so her back faced the array, then threw her whip again.
After dodging the first attack, Steve managed to catch the whip, which wrapped around his arm. Just like with Romanoff back at the causeway, Ellen cranked the electricity all the way. Steve's jaw tightened, and he screamed as thousands of volts were sent surging through his body. Fighting through the enormous pain, he took hold of the whip and pulled with all his might.
Ellen felt herself lurch as she was yanked off her feet towards him.
When she reached him, Steve smashed his shield into her chest, throwing her back. She felt herself fly through the air until her face smashed through the glass protecting the targeting blades. Her face erupted into white hot flames of agony as shards of glass cut into her flesh. The sheer force of the impact left her breathless, and she slumped against the console.
Breathing laboured, she gingerly pushed herself to her feet. Warm trails of blood tickled her skin from the dozen small cuts. Ellen still felt glass imbedded in her cheek. Reaching up, she gripped a shard tight and pulled it out, grunting from the pain. 'Son of a bitch, that hurt!'
Drawing another knife, she turned to face Steve as he approached and forced herself into a ready stance. Still several metres away, he stopped, his expression softening into muted horror.
"Ellen?"
She froze, her eyes widening. 'No.' There was no possible way he could…
A sinking feeling pulsed in her chest as she felt at her face. The glass. It must have done more damage than she thought. Looking down, she noticed several jagged strips of synthetic flesh along with the shards of glass.
'No. No, no, this couldn't be happening! Not now!'
Steve's arms lowered to his sides, his mouth open in shock. "Ellen?"
The adrenaline of battle began to wear off, replaced by the cold, horrifying sensation of fear. Fear and shame. She relaxed her stance, knife still in hand. She sighed. Her secret was out. No point in keeping up the pretense. With her other hand, she peeled off the last bits of her shredded Photostatic Veil and brown wig, revealing her face and blonde hair to the one person she hoped never saw her like this.
"I should have guessed this might happen," she said softly. "I didn't want you to find out this way."
"You're with HYDRA," Steve said. "Why?"
Ellen shrugged, giving him a sad smile. No point hiding the truth from him now. "Because the world you fought for all those years ago? The world you sacrificed your life for? It doesn't exist. It never did."
"What are you talking about?"
"80 million people died in World War II. And what did all that blood accomplish? Europe was devastated, Japan suffered atomic bombings, a whole generation was nearly wiped out. And all we did was trade Nazis for Soviets as the boogeyman. Now we've traded them in for terrorists and everyone who doesn't look or talk like us. We live in a society where concepts like honour and decency are…are just a bad joke. Ethnic cleansings? Global starvation? Persecution by religious fanatics? This is not how mankind is supposed to live. And you know the worst part about all this? No one cares anymore.
"Governments don't exist to help the people, since they're bought and paid for by corporations. All so fucking billionaires can hoard the world's resources to themselves. The same billionaires who propagate fear and suspicion to incite race wars and class struggles, all to distract people from the real problems. Those same people are kept in the mud by myths of opportunity, promised wealth if they waste their lives working for a system designed to exploit them and crush their spirits until they have nothing left."
Once she started talking, she couldn't stop. Half a lifetime's worth of frustrations and outrage vented all at once in an unstoppable tirade. All the while, Steve's brow furrowed deeper and deeper, his lips compressed in a frown. If only he could understand, see the truth of the world as she did. "And you think HYDRA are the ones to solve the world's problems?"
"I know this is the answer!" she said. "Steve, you don't know what the world is really like. We do. HYDRA wants to save the world, but in order to do that, we have to save humanity from itself. People are selfish and cruel, but they don't have to be. They just need to be shown a better path. HYDRA takes the world as we want it to be, not as it is."
Steve sighed. "Fury said something similar to me about S.H.I.E.L.D. using this project for peace. It didn't convince me then, and it won't now. HYDRA, S.H.I.E.L.D., they're all the same." He took a step forward. "If I don't stop these Helicarriers, millions of people will die."
"Enemies of HYDRA," Ellen countered. "Think about it: humans have been spreading across this planet like a plague, raping it for resources at an unsustainable rate in pursuit of wealth and comfort. If we want to save this planet, then the board has to be swept clean. To build a better world, you have to be willing to tear the old one down."
He shook his head, jaw clenching tight. Ellen felt her hands tremble, desperately hoping her instincts were wrong in this moment. Steve took two more steps, placing them at arm's reach from each other. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I can't let you go through with this."
Ellen nodded, giving him one last smile. "It's okay. I wouldn't expect anything less."
She'd barely finished talking when she slashed at his chest with her knife. He brought his free arm up to block hers, then delivered a swift kick to her knee. Not enough to break it, but enough to compromise her stability.
"Ellen, stop," Steve urged, pushing her back. "I don't want to keep fighting you. Just stop."
"I can't!" she hissed, attacking with the knife in her right hand.
This was the mission.
Steve easily blocked her. "You're injured and tired. There's no way you can beat me."
"Yes I can!" Ellen shouted. People had been telling her what she couldn't do since childhood. She wouldn't let anyone do that to her, not even Steve.
This was the mission.
She drew another knife from her belt and tried to stab him in the shoulder. He caught her arm with his, then with a brutal twist, broke it like kindling. Ellen felt her arm explode with agony as her ears picked up the sickening crunch of bone, screaming from the pain.
Batting the knife from her hand, Steve grabbed her by her catsuit collar and belt and threw her over the edge of the walkway. Ellen saw the dome spiral around her as she fell like an old toy thrown into the trash. Spotting one of the upper supports, she extended her whip and threw it. The whip wrapped around the metal support, and she came to a jarring halt, growling as her broken arm flared with spine-tingling needles of pain.
Dangling there, Ellen watched, helpless, as Steve lowered the trays of targeting blades. Taking out one of the central blades, he replaced it with one of his own, then crushed the original like plastic. With his shield, he smashed the console into pieces. Touching an earpiece, he said, "Alpha lock."
He paused to look at her, a mixture of anger and pain etched on his face. She felt tears welling in her eyes, even as blood still flowed from the cuts on her face. They locked eyes, regret and so much more swirling in the air between them. Then, Steve turned and ran down the walkway towards the maintenance hatch.
Ellen released a pent-up breath she didn't know she'd been holding, tears flowing freely. Her secret revealed. Steve's heart broken. All for nothing. Her left arm hung by her side, useless. She looked at the trays of targeting blades, knowing she'd failed. With the console broken, she couldn't unlock the array. And with the original blade destroyed, she couldn't replace it and restore the original algorithm. The only hope left was for the Soldier to guard the third Helicarrier's array and prevent further tampering.
Grimacing from her various injuries, Ellen retracted her whip, climbing towards the support.
Pierce stood in place as Councilman Yen held a gun on him. He watched Romanoff type at the holographic interface, which the glass screen before them displayed. She was attempting to open Pandora's Box, release all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s –and therefore HYDRA's– secrets out into the world. He couldn't let that happen, but unfortunately his options were limited.
"Disabling the encryption is an executive order," he said, giving voice to the issue gnawing at the back of his mind the last few minutes. "It takes two Alpha Level members."
"Don't worry," Romanoff said blithely. "Company's coming."
From outside came the whirring of helicopter rotors. Pierce turned to regard it as the pilot stepped out. 'Impossible,' he thought. It had to be. But his eyes weren't deceiving him; wearing the usual black trench coat, arm in a sling, Nick Fury stepped into the council chamber. Pierce chewed on his lower lip, resisting the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Of course his old friend had figured out a way to elude death.
Fury circled him, one eye glaring with an impressive amount of emotion for a man infamous for keeping his cards close to the chest. Smirking, Pierce asked, "Did you get my flowers?" The other man didn't look amused. "I'm glad you're here, Nick."
"Really? Because I thought you had me killed."
"You know how the game works," Pierce pointed out.
Fury furrowed his brow. "So why make me head of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"Because you were the best, and the most ruthless person I ever met."
"I did what I did to protect people."
Pierce pointed at his own chest. "Our enemies are your enemies, Nick. Disorder. War. It's just a matter of time before a dirty bomb goes off in Moscow or an EMP fries Chicago. Diplomacy? A holding action, Nick. A band-aid. And you know where I learned that. Bogotá. You didn't ask. You just did what had to be done. I can bring order to the lives of seven billion people. By sacrificing twenty million. It's the next step, Nick. If you have the courage to take it."
Fury regarded him for a long moment, sighing. "Does Ellen know?"
Pierce sucked his teeth, putting his hands in his pockets. Then, he couldn't help himself from chuckling. "Does she know?" he repeated, getting a kick out of Fury's confusion. "Nick, she's been by my side this whole time. Today is as much her triumph as it is mine."
"You smug, self-righteous son of a bitch," Fury said, his tone low as the realization set in. "You recruited your own daughter into HYDRA?"
"I saved her, Nick."
"Bullshit!"
Pierce shook his head. "You remember how she was after Bogotá. The nightmares, the suicidal tendencies. My little girl would have taken her own life before her 18th birthday. Then, just when things started getting better, a bunch of Jihadists decided to murder her mother and thousands of others. She was broken, Nick. I couldn't stand to see her like that, so empty and hopeless. I showed her a path, taught her how to channel her pain in pursuit of global order and peace. And by God, she turned out better than I could have hoped. You oughta know, Agent Romanoff," he said, gesturing to the redhead. "You've seen the results firsthand."
She frowned at him.
"Krokynstadt. Odessa. The causeway."
Romanoff cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing. "Sarkissian. That was her."
Pierce smirked. "Quite something, isn't she?" Looking back at Fury, he added, "Because of me, my daughter became the deadliest woman on the planet. Her achievements have helped shape the destiny of the human race. Project Insight is possible because of her. After today, no more terrorists will take children's parents away. No more little girls will have to suffer, just like mine suffered. We're trying to make a better world, Nick. You just have to have the courage to make the right decision."
Fury, glaring at him, replied, "No. I have the courage not to." He gripped Pierce by the arm, tight enough for him to wince, guiding him to the glass screen.
Romanoff typed a command. In response, the computer said, "Retinal scanner active." She then held a gun to his head, and he chuckled.
"You don't think we've wiped your clearance from the system?"
"I know you erased my password," Fury said. "Probably deleted my retinal scan. But if you want to stay ahead of me, Mr. Secretary…" With his good hand, he moved his eyepatch, revealing the scarred, milky eye he'd hidden from the world for decades. "You need to keep both eyes open," he finished.
Pierce scowled, but nonetheless relented. He and Fury faced the screen, which scanned both their eyes. "Alpha Level confirmed," the computer stated. "Encryption code accepted. Safeguards removed."
As the data unfurled itself before their eyes, Pierce took advantage of the others' distraction. Casually reaching into his jacket pocket, he took out his phone and activated the kill switches on the councillors' ID badges. HYDRA would not suffer defeat this day, not if he could help it.
Councilman Singh's badge began to glow and sizzle.
Steve stood on the walkway in the third and final Helicarrier's dome. Bucky stood in front of the targeting array, just like Ellen had done on the first ship. The echoes of that encounter rattled in his brain, and it took all he had to fight through those feelings of betrayal and grief. Now, his old friend stood in his way.
"People are gonna die, Buck. I can't let that happen." Bucky said nothing, regarding him with a cold gaze. The look of a predator ready to pounce on an invader in its territory. Steve shook his head. "Please don't make me do this."
He already knew this was going to go one way. Steeling himself, he threw his shield at his best friend.
"Emergency evacuation alert," the automated system said over the building's intercom. "All personnel, proceed to designated safety zones."
Tony scoffed. "As if all the shooting and aerial combat outside didn't clue everyone in."
He ran through the mad scramble of people fleeing through the Triskelion atrium. Having fought his way through HYDRA goons to get here, he kept only one goal in mind: escape. Charging through the front doors, he ran out onto the bridge. Several vehicles drove away from the building, while everyone else settled for running the whole way.
Partway across the bridge, Tony stopped when he saw the Helicarriers in the sky. Thousands of feet up in the air, dizzying arrays of next-gen weapons ready to deliver Biblical proportions of firepower into any target. He squinted, at first thinking he imagined things. The guns were all swiveling and aiming all around the area, several of them pointed at the Triskelion.
Ellen cradled her broken arm, using the other to pilot the Quinjet back towards the Triskelion. Using her authorization to access the Insight data, she pulled it up on one of the overhead displays. As the autopilot guided her towards one of the secondary landing pads, she watched the target numbers steadily grow. After a few seconds, they reached saturation at 800,000.
She kept her eyes on the timer as it counted down. Three…two…one.
At the last second, the screen fizzled with static, then restored itself. Only, it hadn't. The number of targets had changed from 800,000 to just three. Just three? Then, Ellen's mouth fell open as she figured out what Steve and his friends had been up to.
The Helicarriers were now targeting each other.
Tony watched the ships' guns swivel as they reoriented themselves. Their arsenal now pointed at each other. With a thunderous boom, the Helicarriers started firing on each other. He laughed, clapping a few times.
"The star-spangled man with a plan," he said with a smile. "Son of a bitch did it."
Amid the chaos and last-minute hope for the future, he joined the rest of the surviving agents and personnel and jogged across the rest of the bridge to safety. Once on the other side, he felt his phone buzzing. Taking it out, he saw an incoming call from Maria. He felt himself smile.
Pierce glowered at the sight before him. The Insight Helicarriers, the crown jewels of all his ambitions, were now tearing into each other with abandon. All that effort, all those resources, for nothing.
"What a waste," he said, his thumb hovering over the trigger for Romanoff's boobytrapped ID badge. Singh, Yen, and Rockwell laid around them, holes burned through their chests.
"So, you still on the fence about Rogers' chances?" Romanoff asked with a cocky grin on her face.
He gestured to the door. "Time to go, Councilwoman. This way. Come on. You're gonna fly me out of here."
"You know," Fury sighed, "there was a time I would've taken a bullet for you."
"You already did," Pierce pointed out as he and his hostage walked out. "You will again, when it's useful."
Romanoff squeezed something between her thumb and forefinger, groaning as electric shocks overtook her whole body. She dropped to the floor, and Pierce felt the blood drain from his face. He touched the trigger on his phone, but a beep drew his gaze to the word 'Rebooting'. He tried again, then a third time. It changed to 'Armed', but at that very second, he heard a gun cocking behind him. He turned and saw Fury aiming a pistol at his chest.
Fury fired.
Ellen limped down the hall, pistol in hand, not sure if she were ready to start crying or screaming her lungs out. Project Insight, the domino they'd bet on kickstarting true change, had been snatched from their grasp at the last second. The last goddamned second! Steve had done it, she knew. He'd done the impossible, just like he always did. Somehow he and his friends had worked out a way to hijack their signal, redirect the targeting parameters.
Red emergency lights flashed all around her as the automated system urged a general evacuation. She crossed over bodies and debris the whole way. So many of their agents had died in the fighting. Nearly all the S.T.R.I.K.E. teams were wiped out. Those who weren't in the building were on the Helicarriers, getting obliterated by cannon fire.
Ellen had tried contacting everyone she could, but no one responded. All she got from Rumlow was grunting and shouting, so he was busy. Not that she cared.
They would bounce back from this. They had to. HYDRA had cells across the worlds, hundreds of agents imbedded with government, military, and intelligence agencies in dozens of countries. They had survived near-total annihilation after World War II. They would survive the loss of one single project, important as it had been. But between the battle here and the battle raging in the skies overhead, it would only be a matter of time before their enemies closed in around them. Ellen had to reach her father and evacuate him.
She turned a corner, the pain in her arm making her wince. The council chamber doors were just ahead, already open. Bodies were strewn across the floor, ones she recognized as she entered the room. Jack Rollins and the rest of Team 1, along with the still-smoking remains of the World Security Council. "Dad, we need to leave, now," she said, limping into the chamber. "The Helicarriers are coming down, we have to…"
Ellen trailed off as she noticed two people in the centre of the room. Gingerly moving off the floor, dressed in a professional blue suit, was Natasha Romanoff. Crouched beside her was Nick Fury. The sight of him made her stop. The Soldier had shot him three times, in addition to all the injuries he'd sustained in the highway ambush. The doctors had pronounced him dead. How had he survived? Fury and Romanoff looked over at her, their expressions heavy. Then they looked at something to Ellen's left. She frowned as she turned, wondering what could they be–
Time stopped.
Laying on the floor amid shards of glass, lip split and hair tousled, was her father. Ellen's eyes zeroed in on the two scarlet circles on his white shirt, which expanded as blood seeped through both holes in his chest. All at once, Ellen's world came crashing down. The pistol slipped from her hand as her fingers slackened, clattering on the floor. The pain from her injuries vanished, as did the residual guilt from her fight with Steve. The room around her disappeared, leaving only her and her father.
She rushed to his side, feeling the bite of glass shards as she knelt on the floor beside him. "Dad? Dad, come on. Come on, stay with me. Stay with me. Hey! Stay with me. You…you stay with me, okay? Dad?" She took his hand and held it in hers, shaking it to rouse him. "Dad, this isn't funny. I-I need you to stay with me, okay? Can you do that?"
His lips moved as he stared up at the ceiling, not even noticing her. She leaned in close, her heart hammering so hard in her chest she feared it might tear itself free.
In a voice so small, so quiet it didn't seem to belong to him, he said, "Hail HYDRA."
He stilled, what little life in his body melting away. "Dad?" Ellen asked, suddenly without breath in her lungs. "Dad? Please don't do this. Don't do this." It dawned on her just how cold his hand felt, how bereft of life. Hot, wet tears ran down her cheeks. "Daddy?" she croaked, her jaw quivering. "Daddy, please stay. Don't leave. Daddy, please don't leave me! Don't leave me!"
Her words died in her throat as she rested her head on his chest. The last of her strength gone, all she could do was sob, her tears mixing with the fresh blood on his shirt. Ellen tried to say more. Couldn't. She wailed as she held her father's body tight. All these years, he'd been her rock, her guiding star. Now, without him, she felt lost. Adrift in an endless ocean of pain that sought to swallow her whole. Changing the world suddenly felt so pointless without him by her side. What had it all been for, if not to make her father proud while she saved the world?
"Ellen…" Fury said softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't have a choice."
She opened her eyes. Hearing those words, hearing his voice, it changed something in her. Adrift on that ocean of pain, she now saw a star shining in the distance. Red as the colour of blood, brighter than the sun. She moved in the direction of that star, wading through the depths of her anguish. Sniffling, Ellen lifted her head from her father's chest. She felt a flicker of anger spark in her heart. It soon fanned itself bigger, and bigger, until finally it burst forth as a roiling, apocalyptic firestorm that burned away the paralyzing grief.
Romanoff, somehow sensing the change, said in a warning tone, "Nick…"
Gritting her teeth so hard her jaw ached, narrowing her eyes so much she almost couldn't see, Ellen gave in to that rage. She surrendered control, letting it guide her actions as it scorched her soul. Drawing the last machine pistol holstered to her thigh, she whirled around and faced Fury and Romanoff just as they started running towards the helipad outside. She squeezed the trigger, shooting a spray of bullets as she screamed so hard it tore her vocal cords apart. Ellen kept shooting, screaming like a Banshee as she emptied the magazine at her father's murderers.
Romanoff flinched as a bullet struck her in the arm, Fury grimacing as a bullet grazed his cheek. But Ellen didn't want them wounded. She wanted them to die. She wanted both of them to choke on their own blood, spending their last precious moments on Earth cold and alone and helpless and begging for mercy that Ellen would never give. She wanted to watch the light dim in their eyes as they died the most painful way a human could die.
Then, and only then, would they experience a mere fraction of the pain she now felt.
Unfortunately, both of them fled out the glass doors before Ellen could finish the job. Ellen kept her finger on the trigger of her machine pistol even after it ran out of ammo, her breaths haggard as her throat and her eyes burned.
Looking out the wall-spanning windows, she saw the three Helicarriers, shattered and flaming and belching smoke. One careened through the air, smashing into the edge of the launch pads and flooding them with the river. Another angled towards the Triskelion, growing as it threatened to bring down the whole building.
A part of Ellen wanted to stay by her father's side. She wanted to die here, with him, finding peace in oblivion.
But the other part of her refused. The same part that made her agree to join HYDRA, enduring years of hellish training that would have broken a normal person. The part that had driven her every day for 12 years to fight, no matter the odds. And so, she chose to give in to that part of herself. Leaning down, she kissed her father on the forehead. Then, she removed his wedding ring and stuffed it into a belt pouch.
With one last look at the man who had meant the world to her, she hurried out of the council chamber.
Running despite her limp, brushing past the pain, Ellen made her way to the elevators. Stumbling inside the nearest one, she said, "Atrium!" The computer confirmed, and the elevator descended down to ground level. Running out before the doors finished opening, she found herself in the abandoned atrium, bits of broken concrete and glass all around her. The heart of S.H.I.E.L.D. now stood empty, a testament to shattered dreams and the ashes of ambition.
As Ellen made her way to the nearest exit, she looked up and saw the destroyed Helicarrier listing towards the building. Running out onto the grass, she heard a spine-tingling shriek of twisted metal and concrete crumbling. The sky seemed ready to tear itself asunder as the Helicarrier smashed into the Triskelion.
Reaching the riverbank, Ellen wasted no time and jumped in. With only one good arm, swimming took twice as much effort. But through single-minded perseverance and effort, she finally reached the opposite bank. Crawling out of the water, long hair clinging to her bloody face, Ellen gave one last tortured look at the ruins of the Triskelion.
Then, she stood and walked away.
Whew! Definitely a heavy chapter, but one that I feel immensely proud of. Everything in this story's been building towards this, and the collision of so many secrets and emotions has lasting effects.
I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Leave a review if you feel so inclined, and stay tuned for next week's chapter.