Camp Lehigh, New Jersey
Steve listened in mounting horror as Arnim Zola - disembodied and speaking through a computer screen - revealed that HYDRA had been alive all this time as a parasite within SHIELD.
"For seventy years HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war." Images flashed over the screen, of conflicts Steve had learned about after waking up in the future. Beside him, tension radiated off Natasha.
"And when history did not cooperate? History was changed." A flash of a red star on a metal surface; a police file; a far-off shot of a sniper with a metal arm.
"That's impossible, SHIELD would have stopped you," Natasha said.
The screen flashed again: a newspaper from 1991 with Howard's face on the cover. The headline read:
HOWARD AND MARIA STARK DIE IN CAR ACCIDENT ON LONG ISLAND
MARGARET STARK, 5, ONLY SURVIVOR
"Accidents will happen," hissed Zola. Images flicked through: a crime scene photo of Howard's bloodied body. A shot of Nick Fury's file with DECEASED stamped over it.
Zola went on, and Steve's heart dropped. Even as he listened to Zola, his pulse speeding up and a feeling of horror swallowing him whole, part of his mind snagged.
Natasha's words from earlier echoed: Something has her entirely focused on the Winter Soldier.
"We won, Captain," Zola gloated. "Your death amounts to the same as your life. A zero sum."
Steve slammed his fist into the computer screen, shattering it. His heart throbbed with something that might have been fury or grief or something much worse.
Alexander Pierce's Home
"The timetable has moved," Pierce told the shadow seated at his kitchen table. "Our window is limited. Two targets, level six. They already cost me Zola. I want confirmed death in 10 hours."
The shadow did not move, or blink, or nod. But Pierce knew he would comply.
He always had.
January 11, 2014
Downtown D.C.
On an abandoned street below a causeway in D.C., Steve whirled to face the Winter Soldier. His body ached and his breath came fast - he'd never fought someone like this before. He moved too fast, hit too hard. He'd killed Sitwell, nearly killed Natasha, and now-
The Soldier's mask had fallen off.
He turned.
Everything inside Steve went still, as if he was back in the ice again. He stared, seeing and recognising but incapable of understanding.
It took several long moments for the word exploding inside his mind to fall from his mouth.
"Bucky?"
Bucky's eyes were flat and cold, but at the sound of his name the slightest furrow appeared on his brow. "Who the hell is Bucky?"
Maggie arrived in D.C. at midnight. She'd lost too much time getting here. First finding a way to get out of England without SHIELD spotting her; a tricky feat, given that they were watching the airports, and then getting into D.C. without being spotted.
She stole a van and a motorcycle, so she had a transport hub and a speedier option if she needed it, and drove straight to location X6 - a junkyard on the city outskirts. She sent a text to Natasha's burner - but the message failed to send. She called, and an automated voice told her the number had been disconnected.
"Shit." The exclamation came out in a cloud of vapour in the chilled night air. She stormed back to her van. I've lost too much time. They could be anywhere. Anything could have happened.
She went with evasive tactics. She drove the van from spot to spot around the city, moving every thirty minutes or so, as she tried to get on top of the situation.
The news about Captain America going missing had hit the news - and it appeared there'd been a break in the story. Maggie found news clips of what looked like helicopter footage from earlier in the day: it showed a chaotic, burning street, flooded with agents in black surrounding three figures.
CAPTAIN AMERICA ARRESTED IN WASHINGTON, D.C., read the news banner at the bottom of the screen. And sure enough Maggie could see Steve, his shield on the ground beside him, as he was handcuffed and pushed into a black van. Smoke drifted through the air. He was closely followed by a handcuffed redhead - Natasha - and then a black man she didn't recognize.
The news articles had no further information about what had happened to Steve and Natasha, or even really how they had been arrested. It appeared a battle had begun on an overpass and spilled down onto the street below. There was some cellphone footage but it was chaotic, and rapidly being wiped from the internet. Maggie downloaded what she could - she recognised the signs of SHIELD hiding evidence by now.
What she did manage to download didn't make much sense. The footage showed men with heavy duty weapons firing indiscriminately into the street, people screaming and running. A flash of Captain America hurtling by. There was even a shot of what looked like a winged guy flying through the air. Another video wheeled wildly, but after going through it frame by frame Maggie spotted a man standing on the overpass, firing down. And it could have just been the angle, or camera distortion, but it looked like his arm was shining.
Maggie drove to the scene of the battle. It had been cordoned off, but it was a large area, and she managed to get in by stealing a fluorescent vest and a hard hat from a police van. She paced down the street, which was dappled with darkness since half the streetlights had been shot out or blown up. There were abandoned cars strewn along the road, an overturned bus, and shattered glass covered the ground. She saw a few areas where bloodstains were cordoned off with tape. Maggie shivered in the night air, and looked up to the overpass. Bulletholes riddled the concrete.
Were you here? She wondered. The air smelled like smoke and ozone.
This wasn't really his style: a blatant, bloody battle in the cold light of day. It also hadn't ended in an assassination. Maggie eyed the carcass of a car, the roof caved in and the metal puckered with bullet holes. Were you here?
She turned, running her eyes over the remnants of chaos. The side of a silver van had been torn through, as if someone had run a knife through it. Were you here for Steve?
A trio of police officers walked past her. "Oi!" one called.
She looked over.
The one who'd shouted tipped his chin. "Didn't you get the orders? SHIELD took control of the crime scene hours ago, we're not allowed to investigate. Can't even interview the witnesses or collect evidence. You'd best head home, techie."
Maggie nodded in thanks, then headed back in the direction of her van. On the way back, she realized that the police were right - the perimeter was crawling with SHIELD agents in their familiar black uniforms. She tipped down her helmet.
Throwing caution to the wind, she slipped by one of the SHIELD vans on her way back out of the crime scene. As she passed, she overheard one agent briefing the relief team who'd just arrived in the van.
"- still looking, and what with Sitwell dead…"
The rest trailed off as she hurried past. Her ears burned, and her mind whirled. Maybe there was an assassination.
She contemplated everything that she'd learned as she started up her van and drove away, sticking to the speed limit.
Maggie hopped around the city through the night, tracking and researching. She had no idea if SHIELD had Steve and Nat, or what they might have done to them. If they were free, she had no idea where they would go. She kept tabs on the Tower in New York, just in case, but she got the sense that whatever was happening, it was about SHIELD, and Steve and Nat had some kind of mission here in D.C.
She did manage to ID the other guy who'd been arrested with them: Sam Wilson, ex-Air-Force. She dug a little deeper and learned about Project FALCON. Interesting stuff - the project didn't seem to be linked to her wings in any way, since the Air Force had started work on the design back when the Wyvern was just a myth and no one knew about her wings. The FALCON wings looked like a decent design, though. She wondered how Wilson and Steve had crossed paths.
She considered going to check out Wilson's place in D.C., but a brief radio check told her that SHIELD had already swarmed on it. Besides, Steve and Nat wouldn't be stupid enough to go there. She let out another frustrated breath in her cold van, her face illuminated by her blue computer screen. She checked the time, then climbed into the driver's seat to move along again.
Each passing hour made the sick feeling in her stomach grow. She was worried for her friends, and worried about SHIELD, but something deeper burned in her chest.
He's here.
She could feel it. She had no proof, not really, but after years of hunting she knew. The Winter Soldier was close. She wasn't weeks behind him, but hours. She got the sense that he was hunting her friends. The excitement that pricked her heart made her feel guilty.
Ideal Federal Savings Bank, Washington D.C.
The Soldier opened his eyes.
He was in the chair - the one with the metal sparking plates. Lights and pain flashed behind his eyes, in his mind, like echoes of lightning. There was a rubber bit in his mouth, indented with the impressions of his teeth, and his throat ached. He must have been screaming.
The metal arm whirred and clicked. The room was lit fluorescent yellow, the walls lined with hundreds of boxes. Men surrounded him, wearing various uniforms. Some eyed him with fear.
"Zhelaniye." [Longing] The pain flashing behind his eyes sparked and shivered.
"Semnadstat." [Seventeen]
The rest of the words came, relentless like a hailstorm, and each one stilled his mind, hardened it, until there was nothing inside him but ice.
"Soldat?"
He opened his mouth. Someone took the rubber bit. The words fell from his mouth, cold and rusted: "Ya gotov otvechet." [Ready to comply]
His handler looked down his nose at the Soldier. "We have a new mission for you, Soldat."
January 12, 2014
Steve didn't take his eyes off the distant horizon as Sam strode down the crest of the abandoned dam toward him. Pale dawnlight had washed over the sky, illuminating Steve's tense face. He'd been plagued by memories all night, ever since the fight on the causeway. Memories, and questions, and fears.
And yet something like steadiness had found him now.
"He's gonna be there, you know," Sam called by way of greeting. He'd been a comfort after the fight on the causeway, with the steady assuredness of a soldier.
"I know."
"Look, whoever he used to be, the guy he is now…" Sam's voice was empathetic but firm. "I don't think he's the kind you save. He's the kind you stop."
Steve let his gaze drift toward Sam, just for a moment. "I don't know if I can do that."
Sam's brow lowered. "Well he might not give you a choice. He doesn't know you."
Steve met Sam's eyes. "He will." The steadiness felt right. "Gear up, it's time."
He turned to stride back inside, but couldn't help a lingering sense of uncertainty.
Something has her entirely focused on the Winter Soldier. Nat's words. He pushed away the thought, pushed away all he thought he knew, because it was too much right now. Too much pain.
He couldn't handle more pain right now. He had to go be a soldier.
When the sun rose, Maggie thought: Fuck it.
She'd been hunting all night to no avail. She was pretty sure SHIELD didn't have Steve, Nat, and Wilson, since they appeared to still be hunting for them too. There'd been no sign of the Soldier.
And Maggie could think of one common thread between it all. So she got dressed.
In her full Wyvern uniform, Maggie drove up to the Triskelion on her stolen motorcycle. It was a bright, clear day, and the tall building gleamed in the sunshine.
There was a buzz about the Triskelion - helicopters and Quinjets hovered around the building, and people streamed in and out of the front atrium, all looking busy. More vehicles drove in and out of the lower levels. Maggie had never seen the place so busy.
She screeched to a halt in front of the Triskelion and swung her leg over the bike. She drew several stares, but no one moved to stop her as she strode across the pavement and through the front doors of the building. She found herself in the wide, sunny atrium, and noticed plastic sheeting taped over the spot in the roof where Steve had cannonballed through. The sleek silver SHIELD logo statue stood tall in the middle of the atrium.
"All personnel to launch stations," called a voice over the PA.
Launch stations?
She caught a snatch of conversation from a pair of civilian workers striding past. "- can't wait to see the INSIGHT helicarriers, I bet it'll be a sight."
Her mind whirled. Something's about to happen. Something SHIELD's been planning.
She glanced around. Now what? She wouldn't get very far with her deactivated clearance. She didn't exactly blend in either, with her black and burgundy flight suit, the dark gleaming wingpack harnessed to her back, and her goggles pushed up on her forehead. Already a pair of suited agents by the far door were casting her suspicious glances. She knew she needed to get to Pierce and get some answers, but…
"Attention all SHIELD agents."
Maggie blinked and looked up. That had been another PA message, but it was Steve's voice.
"This is Steve Rogers." The atrium went still. "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."
Maggie began pacing toward the door that she knew led out of the civilian area and into the operations wing of the Triskelion. Was Steve here?
"SHIELD is not what we thought it was. It's been taken over by HYDRA."
Her steps faltered. Several audible gasps echoed in the atrium.
"Alexander Pierce is their leader."
Maggie's ears were ringing.
"The STRIKE and INSIGHT crew are HYDRA as well. I don't know how many more." He paused. "But I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you."
Maggie glanced around, and saw she wasn't alone. Suspicious glances, sideways looks. There were only a handful of agents out here, the rest were mostly civilian staff.
"They almost have what they want. Absolute control," Steve went on. "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."
Her spine straightened and she looked up, as if Steve were really up in the ceiling speaking to them all.
"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."
A few long moments passed as everyone in the atrium breathed, waiting. But Steve did not speak again. Maggie's skin prickled from her scalp to her toes, and everything around her seemed much, much clearer. This beautiful, grand building that her father had built. This powerful organisation he had created.
Poisoned.
And then she saw two agents out of the corner of her eye draw their weapons.
Maggie whirled, paused just long enough to check that yes, these agents were about to shoot her, and then fired two energy bolts from her wrist blasters. The agents went flying back, unconscious, and screams erupted across the atrium.
"Everybody not with the Captain, out!" she shouted in a voice that echoed off the high ceiling. The screams mounted and people dashed for the exits, turning the atrium into pandemonium. The back of Maggie's neck prickled and she turned, spotted a civilian lifting a gun to aim at her, and fired again. The man crumpled back against the statue of the SHIELD eagle. More shots rang out and she dove for cover.
Her mind span with questions and doubts, but one thing remained clear: Steve had given her a mission. She popped her head up over the atrium bench she'd used for cover, and her eyes focused on the far doors which led further into the building. Her eyes narrowed, and she powered up her energy blasters.
In the World Security Council office, Alexander Pierce held the Council at gunpoint.
"I guess I've got the floor."
In the primary operations room, Brock Rumlow set off the programming sequence to launch INSIGHT early as the air exploded with gunshots.
Outside, the river split open.
When Maggie had cleared the atrium, she blasted her way through the doors into the operations wing of the Triskelion. She was met with absolute chaos. Agents fired on agents, running in all directions and shouting at each other even as they fought. Suspicion burned in the air like a chemical weapon. Maggie breathed it in, her skin prickling. Each new face was an enemy, and no one could turn their back.
An agent in a dark suit with a commset in his ear fired at her. Maggie began firing back.
She strode through the Triskelion corridors, her senses alive and her wristblasters ready at a moments notice as she rooted out HYDRA agents. The shock of it took her almost out of her body. This could not be the Triskelion. She must be on a mission somewhere else, taking down an enemy base. She watched herself take out agents with the SHIELD logo on their chests. Agents she had known for months fired on her. Her ears rang with gunshots.
Most agents seemed to be either making their way downward, or out - toward the river. She could hear distant rumbling like an earthquake, or… a massive engine. Her brow furrowed. Steve mentioned Helicarriers.
Maggie headed toward the main operations room, her boots thudding on the floor. She turned down a narrow corridor, wrist blasters aloft, and nearly ran straight into Agent Rumblow. His eyes lit up when he spotted her and he skidded to a halt. Maggie paused too, her hands still up. He was unarmed, though he wore full tac gear.
"Maggie!" he called, gripping her shoulders. He panted, and glanced behind him. Sweat shone on his forehead. "Maggie, HYDRA's infiltrated SHIELD, we need to get you safe-"
"No offence, Rumlow, but I'm not going to trust anyone in SHIELD right now," Maggie breathed, stepping back. Rumlow stepped with her. Something twanged at the back of her mind - didn't Steve say…? "And I've got somewhere to be-"
"I knew you were going to be a bitch about this," he hissed. Before she could react to the sudden venom in his voice or the way his eyes had gone dark, Rumlow used his grip on her shoulders to shove her against the wall with all his force. Her back slammed into the hard concrete and for a moment she was pinned, pressed against the unrelenting surface by all of Rumlow's forward momentum against her shoulders. She couldn't have pushed back if she tried.
Again, the shock drew herself out of her body. She jerked sideways, like Happy had taught her to when she was a kid, and Rumlow went with his own momentum face-first into the wall - followed up by her hand slamming his head into the concrete.
He cursed, reeling back, and then the rest of the STRIKE team poured around the far corner, their guns jerking up when they spotted Maggie. She flicked out one wing just in time - bullets rattled off her wing's metal surface as she dove back around her corner and ran for cover. So that's how it's going to be.
She kept sprinting, putting the shouts of the STRIKE Team behind her, and forced herself to think. Steve said Pierce was the leader. Where might he be? But even as she ran through the possibilities, she dashed past one of the wide windows looking out over the river and caught movement out of the corner of her eye.
Maggie skidded to a halt.
The river had opened up. The water was held back by a series of interlocking metal panels that must have risen from beneath the surface, revealing a yawning subterranean cavern that had been built under the river. But Maggie wasn't looking at the cavern. She stared at the three enormous, gleaming metal Helicarriers rising up from below, far larger than the Helicarrier she'd been on two years ago. Instead of turbines, each Helicarrier was borne aloft by four burning, white-blue repulsors the size of small comets. She recognised the design: Tony had showed her a similar idea for a Helicarrier repulser last year. Each Helicarrier bristled with gun turrets from every surface: long range dorsal and ventral guns, missile launchers and cannons. Their decks were crowded with sleek Quinjets, F-22s and helicopters.
Maggie laid a hand on the glass window and realized it was vibrating from the force of those roaring engines. She watched as each Helicarrier rose up from the river and into the air. The scale of them - from nose to tip, they had to be as tall as the Triskelion. Taller, even. Her breath fogged the glass.
She spotted a small figure, barely a dot, rising up beside one of the Helicarriers (IN-02 was emblazoned on the side of it). Moments later, she heard the distant thud of artillery and realised that the Helicarrier's cannons had swivelled up to follow the figure: they belched smoke and fire, and dark explosions lit up the sky behind the nimble dot. The glass window rattled.
Steve said those Helicarriers would help HYDRA to kill everyone who stands in their way. Her chest squeezed as she took in the scale of the mission Steve had given her.
I could probably bring down a helicarrier, she thought doubtfully.
A scream down the corridor made her flinch and look away. A woman in civilian clothes had fallen through a far door, and was scrambling to her feet. She was followed by four more women in cafeteria employee uniforms, who helped her up. They sprinted down the corridor toward Maggie, until they spotted her and came to a faltering halt. For a moment, Maggie and the women just looked at each other.
Then there was the heavy thud of footsteps, and a pair of men in tactical uniforms burst through the door the women had fled through, guns aloft. The women screamed, and Maggie launched into action.
The women's screams only got louder when Maggie darted toward them. But as they ducked she hurdled around them, wings whirling to offer a shield against the HYDRA agents as they lifted their guns and opened fire. Maggie pulled a handgun from the back of her uniform, flicked it up and fired four shots. Double taps to the chest, like she'd been taught. The men dropped and the corridor fell silent.
Maggie turned back to the women, who stared at her. "Head for the fire stairs, down that corridor and to the left" - she pointed - "get out of the building, and then head away from the river - get as far as you can. Go!"
She didn't pause to make sure they'd understood. She spun on her heel, shoved her goggles down over her eyes, and broke into a run toward the other end of the corridor where a floor-to-ceiling window looked out over the river. Maggie pushed herself as fast as she could go, her boots pounding on the carpeted floor and her wings rising from her back, whirring.
At the last second, when she could see the reflection of her red glowing goggles, Maggie leaped. Her wings came up over her head, their barbed apexes meeting in an X shape, and she crashed through the window in an explosion of glass.
The minute her wings caught her and broke her freefall, Maggie got to work. She flew upward, the wind shrieking in her ears and tugging at her braided hair as the Triskelion windows flashing past her. But she flew almost on autopilot, as most of her attention was focused on her HUD - she set it to scan for all active commlinks in the vicinity.
There were several frequencies in action, some more difficult to crack into than others. She cycled through them as she rose through the air, overhearing shouts for backup and orders and frantic warnings. She found the STRIKE comms, recognising the frequency, but they weren't saying much - they must have been caught up in the middle of a fight. She kept cycling through, wincing when she overheard someone shouting for help before they went suddenly, eerily quiet.
Then she noticed a comms frequency with just five receivers. A small combat team, perhaps?
She cracked into the link, cursing when it took a few extra seconds. She passed the top of the Triskelion and angled outward, heading for the rising Helicarriers. The air vibrated with the force of their engines. Wind whistled over her face, bringing with it the distant sounds of gunfire.
Finally, she broke into the commlink and let out a breath of relief when she heard Steve's voice:
"Hill, what's the current altitude?"
"700 feet, but they're climbing fast," came Hill's terse voice.
Maggie ran her eyes over the three soaring Helicarriers before deciding on IN-02, the highest. Its cannons had been firing earlier, but had now fallen silent. Her engines surged.
"Alright Cap, I'm in," said an unfamiliar voice over the comms.
Maggie rocketed up over the lip of the Helicarrier, her wings flashing in the sunlight and her red goggles burning. She spotted a man on the deck below with wings of his own: they were slimmer than hers, with no barbs, but intricately designed. He hovered just over the deck, guns in his hands. Wilson.
"Oh shit," Wilson swore as the Wyvern suddenly appeared above him, and Maggie heard it magnified in her commset.
So I guess he's on this frequency too.
Maggie opened her mouth, but then a rumble of engines announced the arrival of sleek black Quinjet roaring in from the other side of the deck.
"Oh, shit!" Maggie and Wilson swore together and dove in opposite directions as the Quinjet opened fire.
Maggie plunged back below the edge of the Helicarrier, heart racing, and then realized that the Quinjet had gone after Wilson - she could hear it roaring along the deck unleashing its heavy artillery. She circled under the Helicarrier, her limbs pulled in tight and her engines burning. She heard Wilson cry out over the comms and in the next second she rocketed up from below the deckline again. She got a glimpse of Wilson rolling to the edge of the deck below her, the Quinjet surging toward him with both guns firing, before she fired one of her four wrist-mounted missiles at the oncoming jet.
The Quinjet pilot jerked out of the way, swinging the line of fire away from Wilson, who dove backwards off the deck with a cry. Her missile struck one of the parked Quinjets and sent it up in a ball of fire.
Maggie glanced down to see that Wilson's wings had snapped out. The Quinjet wheeled like a sharp metal airborne predator searching for its prey.
"Go!" Maggie called to Wilson as she fired a round of energy blasts at the Quinjet. "I'll draw them off!"
She didn't have time to get his reply before she had to dive too - the Quinjet roared after her, its gun muzzles flashing. She plunged down and away from the Helicarriers, zig-zagging back toward the Triskelion. But moments later the sounds of bullets tearing through the air around her ceased. She glanced over her shoulder and realized the Quinjet had turned back.
"Wilson, it's after you again!" she warned as she banked and chased back after the jet. The sun flashed in her eyes. She could see it racing along the underbelly of the Helicarrier after Wilson, who dodged and weaved as he used the hulking carrier for meagre cover. He was fast. Maggie rocketed up, catching up to the Quinjet, then tried to charge it. Her wings shrieked against the side of the Quinjet's wings, but the pilot easily maneuvered away.
As Maggie chased the Quinjet, which chased Wilson, she remembered they weren't alone on the comms. "Steve?" she called.
"Maggie!" came his voice over the line. He sounded relieved, if a little distracted.
"What's the plan here?" she asked. She retrieved a handgun from her waist holster and fired at the Quinjet's gun turrets.
"We've got to replace the INSIGHT targeting blades with our own before these things hit three thousand feet," Steve panted. She could hear the unmistakeable sounds of fighting over his end. "They've got a targeting algorithm that's going to take out millions of innocent people if we can't stop them."
Maggie's guts twisted, and then jerked as she heard a second rumble and glanced back to see another Quinjet roaring up beneath the Helicarrier, lining her up in its targets. She rocketed ahead, zig-zagging as it unleashed fire, and almost collided with Wilson.
When she'd gained some momentary cover by soaring up over the Helicarrier again, she let out a breath. So that's the mission. She felt it settle in her chest. But that wasn't the only mission she had come here for.
When she next spoke, veering out of range of the Quinjets, her voice was so cold she barely recognized it. "Steve. Where is he."
There was a long pause.
Then Steve spoke: "Maggie, he's-"
"Keep this line clear," Hill barked. And then the Quinjet was after Maggie again, so she dropped it. For now.
Maggie looped back under the Helicarrier at the same time as Wilson veered up from beneath. They shared a brief harried glance before flying for their lives amongst the gun turrets under of the Helicarrier. They might have been able to get away, but they needed to get into that targeting bay. And the Quinjets knew that.
"Lead yours out the starboard side in a minute!" Maggie called, hoping Wilson would listen. She veered to the portside, leading her Quinjet on a chase up and over the Helicarrier. She dodged through the moored Quinjets, F-22s and helicopters on deck, cursing when she realised INSIGHT agents were running out to pilot the things. Nothing she could do about it now, though. She rocketed across to the other side, and shot out over the port bow just as Wilson flew out from beneath, closely followed by the first shining black Quinjet.
Maggie plunged down onto its back. She landed hard on the Quinjet's tail, slamming her heelspur into the metal to stay moored, and then started blasting at anything that glowed or spun or made noise. It did the trick, and seconds later one of its dual engines imploded, sending the Quinjet spinning down to the ground in a plume of smoke. Maggie didn't have a second to celebrate - an incendiary round from the other Quinjet struck her in her outstretched wing, knocking her a good twenty feet through the air.
Wilson dove out from leftfield to draw the jet's fire.
Director Pierce watched as Natasha disabled the security protocols in preparation for dumping SHIELD data onto the Internet.
"If you do this, none of your past is going to remain hidden. Are you sure you're ready for the world to see you as you really are?"
Romanoff cast her calm green eyes across at him. "Are you?"
"Alpha lock," Steve reported over the comms as Maggie struggled to regain her bearings. She heard a boom, and something loud and burning scorched through the air twenty feet to her right. She flinched and looked up - the Helicarrier cannons were pointed her way. Beneath the Helicarrier, the other Quinjet was chasing Wilson again.
"Falcon, where are you now?" Hill asked.
"Had to take a detour!" Wilson shouted.
Maggie raced back up, determined to clear a path for the other man into the belly of the Helicarrier. But just as she came level with Wilson, ready to draw the jet off, the Quinjet's missile launchers erupted. Maggie had designed those things, she knew they held twenty four armour-piercing, high-explosive short range heat-seeking missiles. And the Quinjet pilot had just fired all of them. They came screeching into the sky.
Maggie and Wilson split. Maggie's HUD alerted her that six of the missiles had curved after her, the rest after Wilson. She could see Wilson banking, using the Helicarrier as a shield. He'll be fine. She twisted in an arc so tight that she saw the missiles out of the corner of her eye as she passed them. They curved and hurtled after her. The earth and sky span around her. She rocketed back, her HUD alarming as the missiles grew closer - until the Quinjet was right in front of her.
She saw the pilot's helmeted head jerk up to watch her as she buzzed right over the cockpit, inches from hitting them. She didn't look back when she heard her six missiles plunge directly into the Quinjet. She felt the heat of the blast, and the shockwave nudged her a little faster through the sky.
Wilson had had a similar idea. She watched as he led the last three missiles directly into the curved glass underbelly of the Helicarrier, blasting open a hole for him to fly right in with a whoop.
She smiled. Clever.
Maggie flew up into the dome through the hole Wilson had blown in the side, coming to land on the gantryway just in time to see him replace the targeting blade. Her boots clanged on the metal and she caught her breath.
"Bravo lock!" he called, then turned back to see her standing behind him, chest heaving and her wings flared.
"Hey. Nice flying," she grinned, exhilarated.
"Not too bad yourself," he grinned back, and held out his fist. She bumped her knuckles against his. "Let's do this."
Maggie nodded, and together they dove off the balcony and into the sky.
"Two down, one to go," Hill said over the comms.
Over a thousand feet below, the Winter Soldier stalked down the Triskelion Quinjet runway. Quinjets were aflame around him, and agents screamed and ran for cover. They had been preparing to support the target in the air, to put the mission in jeopardy.
His gaze alighted on a Quinjet on the other side of the runway. Its engines were powering up, its pilot unaware of the threat so close by.
The Winter Soldier's heart did not skip a beat. Protect Project INSIGHT. Eliminate all threats.
That was the mission.
Maggie and Wilson pinwheeled through the sky, avoiding the Helicarrier artillery. They had to stick close to the body of the Helicarrier to stay within range. The INSIGHT crews were well aware of the two threats in the air now, and were manning their cannons closely. But things were about to get trickier for them: Maggie could see the Quinjets on the other Helicarriers being prepared for combat.
"Wyvern, Falcon!" called Hill. "We've got HYDRA Quinjets in the air, and I need urgent safe passage for a helicopter coming in from the north-west-"
"A helicopter?" Maggie questioned as she ventured out from the cover of IN-03 and flinched as the cannons began booming. "Hill, we need to get to that last Helicarrier, you said we only had eight minutes left-"
"It's Fury," Hill cut her off.
Maggie almost stalled in midair. Explosions were erupting on the deck of the nearest Helicarrier - Steve, probably. She cursed and glanced around until she spotted the Falcon, zipping along after her. "Wilson, you go help Steve. He's got the targeting blade. I'll cover the helicopter."
"Got it!" he called. He rocketed out into open air and Maggie dove, outrunning the Helicarrier guns.
Wind screamed in her ears as she plunged downward, eyes scanning northwest. She spotted a distant black speck that had to be the helicopter and angled in its direction - only to curse when she spotted a Quinjet rising up toward her from below. She hesitated, unsure if it was a friendly, then cursed again when it fired on her. She rolled away, in a tight spin and prepared for battle, but the Quinjet just flew straight past her. She frowned, watching the Quinjet soar up toward the Helicarriers, then turned and set her eyes on the incoming helicopter.
The Winter Soldier watched the winged assailant rocket past after evading his gunfire. Operational knowledge told him: Hostile. Level 6. Codename Wyvern. His handlers had not said she would be here, but he was prepared nonetheless.
His flat, cold gaze turned upward.
Protect Project Insight. Eliminate all threats.
The mission.
In the World Security Council office, Alexander Pierce watched Natasha hit a RESTRICTED ACCESS notice on the holoscreen.
"Disabling the encryption is an executive order," he told her. "It takes two Alpha level members."
"Don't worry," Natasha said coolly. "Company's coming."
Everyone in the room looked out the window at the sound of incoming rotors.
Maggie followed the helicopter down to the helipad at the top of the Triskelion, landing well clear of the rotors. Her knees shivered slightly as they took her weight. She'd had to fend off another Quinjet that had targeted the helicopter, and it hadn't gone down easy. She took a moment to catch her breath, her wings rising and falling behind her. She looked over as the helicopter the door slid open and sure enough, Nick Fury in all his leather-jacketed glory stepped out.
Maggie slid her goggles up her forehead and squinted at him. He didn't look too great. He had one arm in a sling, a healing laceration on the top of his head, and he moved gingerly, as if each breath hurt him. I guess he really did get shot then.
"Thanks for the escort," he called over the thundering rotors. His jacket flapped around him.
Maggie dipped her head. "You look good."
They both glanced over to the wide windows looking into the World Security Council office. Maggie could just make out the face of Alexander Pierce, staring out at them. Her mouth turned down. She knew Pierce. They hadn't been close, but she'd respected him. Trusted his manner. Her teeth ground together.
"Six minutes," called Hill over the comms.
"Hey Sam, gonna need a ride!" Steve called.
"Roger, let me know when you're ready!"
There was an explosion. "I just did."
Maggie looked up to see a tiny figure falling through the sky beneath one of the Helicarriers. Wilson's winged form chased after it. There were at least five Quinjets in the air now that the INSIGHT agents on the Helicarriers had fallen into battle positions. She watched Wilson catch Steve, her heart in her mouth, then looked back at Fury. "I've got to get up there. You alright down here?"
"I can handle him," Fury said darkly. He jerked his head downward. "I saw some Quinjets moored below, if you can get some pilots together that'll help you get back up in the air." He nodded at the HYDRA Quinjets in the sky.
"I'll try." Maggie fired up her engines, then hesitated. She looked back. "Fury." He met her eyes. She nodded up at the Helicarriers. "This isn't SHIELD." Her eyes prickled. "We're going to stop them, but this isn't what my dad-" she choked off the words. She could hear fighting over the comms: gunfire and Sam shouting. She met Fury's eye and wind whistled between them. "You end this. Or I will."
He nodded gravely. "Believe me, I've already had the talk from Rogers. That's why I'm here. To put an end to it."
Maggie nodded once. "Good luck." She jumped off the side of the building.
"You know, you're a lot heavier than you look," Sam grumbled after they'd alighted on IN-01.
Steve strode a few steps ahead, hoisting his shield. "I had a big breakfast."
Steve didn't see the Winter Soldier until he'd charged right into him and sent him toppling off the side of the Helicarrier deck.
"Steve!" Sam cried.
Fury had been right about there being a couple of intact Quinjets on the runway beside the Triskelion - but he'd undersold the devastation. The Quinjet bay was aflame, a thick pillar of smoke rising up into the sky from the carcasses of burning jets.
Maggie rocketed downward, and heard the screaming when she was still thirty stories up. Most of the Quinjets were burning or crumpled in pieces. Bodies lay strewn on the bloody and oil-slicked runway. Maggie's heart wrenched, but she knew she had no time to be a rescuer here. She cast her eyes about until she spotted four agents in the distinct navy blue SHIELD pilot's flightsuits. They were all gathered around one of the burning Quinjets, pulling people from inside the cockpit.
Maggie cursed and dropped down to help. There were two men in the burning cockpit: one was already being lowered to the ground, but he was clearly dead: Maggie didn't know if it was the blast or the fire that had killed him. She helped two uninjured pilots pull the other man from the cockpit, hauling him through the smashed-open windshield and out to the asphalt below. His hair was half burned and he wept, struggling against the pilots as he tried to get to his friend.
Maggie's heart wrenched, but she forced herself to look up at the four pilots standing before her, firelight flickering off their faces. "Listen, we've got less than six minutes - I need you to take those last Quinjets and-"
She glanced up at a flicker of white and saw a parachute come crashing down on the Triskelion roof. "Wilson! You okay?" she called.
"I'm fine," he panted. "But Cap - Cap, come in! Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm here," came Steve's voice. "I'm still on the Helicarrier. Where are you?"
"I'm grounded, The suit's down. Sorry, Cap."
"I'll be up in a second!" Maggie called. "I'll have to clear a path-"
"Don't worry, I got it," Steve said breathlessly.
Maggie prepared to leap off the ground, Quinjets be damned, when the weeping, injured man slumped on the asphalt seized the trouser leg of her uniform. She glanced down and saw him looking at the two intact Quinjets at the end of the runway.
"Gotta get up there," he croaked. "Help - help Cap."
"You're in no fit state, Agent," Maggie said as kindly as she could.
The other pilots straightened.
"But we are, ma'am," said one of them, firing off a quick salute. "We'll fly with you."
Maggie nodded once. "Go."
The pilots turned and sprinted down the runway. Maggie fired up her engines again. Two Quinjets and myself against the others in the air. We might have a shot of getting through to Steve. She heard Hill instruct Wilson to head toward the Council office.
She was about to leap into the air when the weeping man said: "He killed them all."
She frowned and looked down. He'd dragged himself over to his burned friend and had laid one hand on his blackened chest. "Who? Rumlow?"
The man shook his head. "I didn't think he was real."
Maggie's wings drooped and her skin went cold. The other pilots had already reached the Quinjets. "Who."
He looked up, and Maggie knew the terror in his eyes. She had felt it.
"The Winter Soldier," he whispered.
The wind screeched around Maggie as she hurtled into the sky. Two Quinjets flanked her, firing on the HYDRA Quinjets that had come down to battle with them. The auxiliary Helicarrier cannons turned down on them.
Maggie didn't feel the fear.
"I'm almost at the targeting bay," came Steve's voice over the comms. Hill replied with the Helicarrier's altitude - they were four minutes from being fully operational. Plenty of time for him to finish this.
"Steve," Maggie said. She fought to keep her voice steady. The Quinjets flanking her veered into dogfighting manoeuvres. "I know the Winter Soldier is here. Tell me where."
Because Steve had almost finished his mission. But hers was here, now, and this time she didn't need pages of algorithms and days of interviewing witnesses to get the slightest hint of a clue. She just needed someone to point her in the right direction.
There was a long moment of silence over the comms.
Then Steve spoke. "I haven't seen him, Maggie."
"I haven't seen him, Maggie."
Steve's voice echoed strangely in the targeting bay of the Helicarrier. He stood stock-still in the middle of the metal walkway, his eyes fixed ahead.
Bucky stood at the end of the walkway fifty feet away. His hands were loose by his sides, and the metal arm gleamed almost blue in the light. His eyes… they sent a chill through Steve. They were cold, empty, and promised nothing but certain death. His face was slate blank.
With shaking fingers, Steve muted his comms.
"People are going to die, Buck." He took a breath. "I can't let that happen."
Bucky didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't blink. He just stood there like a toy soldier.
Steve's voice shook. "Please don't make me do this."
Maggie and the SHIELD pilots fought to take back the sky. The Helicarriers were burning inexorably upwards, and the HYDRA Quinjets guarded their underbellies, buzzing through the sky like angry hornets. Maggie veered and dodged, struggling to keep her senses turned in every direction. She drew close to IN-01, but then the cannons kicked in. She routed an extra surge of energy to her engines and rocketed high over the Helicarrier, evading the guns.
All the while she felt like a hurtling comet, burning up from the inside. He's here, was all she could think. He was on the ground, killing those people. She banked, the wind buffeting harshly against her side, and she glanced down at the Triskelion. Would he go there, to protect Pierce? He'd already tried to kill Fury once, maybe he'd try again.
Because it had become clear to her, somewhere between Steve's PA announcement down in the Triskelion and then being shot at over the Potomac.
All this time she'd known that the Winter Soldier could not have been working alone. She'd been sure there'd been some network, some larger organization keeping him resourced and funded and protected. And there had been: SHIELD. HYDRA. One and the same. The Winter Soldier was a part of the poison that had consumed SHIELD. He'd always been there, with them, working to realize their vision.
As Maggie fired on the engine of a Quinjet attacking one of her SHIELD allies, she went cold.
Is this why my parents were killed? Because of HYDRA?
The fire burning inside her chest consumed her anew, rushing up her throat and seeming to prickle and catch across her skin.
I am going to burn it all to the ground.
SHIELD. HYDRA. The Soldier. They would burn and burn in the inferno of her hatred for them, until there was nothing left but ash. They would know how it felt to crumble.
She sheared through the cockpit of a passing Quinjet with the hard edge of her wing, roaring over the sound of shrieking metal. She twisted away and the jet exploded. She felt the force of its flames on her back as it plunged out of the sky in a fireball.
"One minute," Hill called, her voice shaking with nerves. Maggie glanced up and saw that the Helicarrier weapons arrays had descended - they'd been firing with the auxiliary defense cannons before, but these were long-range targeted gun turrets, emerging from the sides of the Quinjets like hundreds of metallic bristles. Maggie frowned, realizing that Steve had been dead silent for several minutes now. He should have made it already.
"Almost got it," came Steve's voice, with a sudden crackle of noise. There was a tinny gunshot, and Steve grunted.
"Steve!" Maggie called, turning in the direction of the Helicarrier. She hadn't thought he needed backup, but-
He didn't reply. There was only metal clanking, the sound of his breaths, and then - another gunshot. Another cry.
Even as Maggie wheeled and fought to get up to IN-01 again, she hesitated. Steve's fighting someone up there. But he'd… he'd turned his comms off. And he hasn't - he wouldn't-
He'd told her: I haven't seen him, Maggie.
The burning fury consuming her guttered. She whispered, almost unconsciously: "Who is he?"
"Thirty seconds, Cap!" Hill called, her voice drawn tight.
"Stand by," came Steve's breathless voice. He groaned. "Charlie-"
There was another bang and Steve went silent.
"Steve!" Maggie called, twisting around a Quinjet chasing her. The Helicarriers began to slow their burning ascent, and she realized they'd reached altitude. All around Maggie the gun turrets began clunking into place, twisting in all directions as they aimed downward. Maggie's stomach dropped as she watched them move - pointing at the Triskelion, at the city, even further. She was sure others were pointing northeast, in the direction of New York.
Even the Quinjets paused their dogfighting when the guns moved.
Stop this, Maggie told herself, but all she could do was hover in midair, staring-
"Charlie lock," Steve panted.
Her breath caught.
"Okay Cap, get out of there," Hill said.
Then the gun turrets were moving again. All around Maggie they swivelled, pointing down, up, across - at each other. The three Helicarriers held each other at gunpoint. And Maggie suddenly understood the purpose of the targeting blades.
Maggie looked down at IN-03, noting the forest of guns pointed up at her, then across at IN-02, and then up at IN-01. Sunlight gleamed off the glass underbelly, so she couldn't make out the interior. My mission. She rocketed upward.
"Fire now," Steve breathed.
"But Steve-" Hill protested.
"Do it!" Steve shouted. "Do it now!"
Maggie opened her mouth, unsure of what she was about to say, when suddenly the world tore itself apart.
As one the Helicarriers fired. Hundreds of missiles scorched through the air in a fiery triangle, impacting against the Helicarrier hulls with a boom that made the sky shake. Missiles and rockets and bullets screamed through the air and glass and metal shattered. The Helicarriers shuddered in the sky and debris rained down. Maggie found herself caught between three enormous aircraft unleashing absolute devastation on each other. Debris and artillery tore through the air around her, scorching her skin and near-deafening her.
Maggie did not flinch. She stayed her course as she surged upward, ignoring the way the air burned around her. She was a missile streaking toward Steve, toward the Helicarrier, toward him.
All her life, the mission had been a game of grasping at smoke, and coming away with empty hands. There'd been no clear path. But now there was nothing to her mission but a straight line and a wall of fragile glass. Maggie felt her heartbeat pounding in her chest, in her skull, pressing against her throat. She didn't think she was breathing. Her eyes were so dry from staring up at the underbelly of that Helicarrier that they began to water.
But then something shredded through the tip of her right wing. She fell into a spiral, her wings snapping around her. Sound seemed to rush back into her perception: explosions roared around her and the air was smoke and fire. An explosion right by her made her throw her arms over her head, even though she knew that would do nothing against a missile.
She fought for control, flaring her wings until she was able to right herself, able to fly - the right wing juddered, but held. She boosted her engines and looked upwards - only to scream as she found herself faced with a hulking mass of burning metal bearing down on her.
One of the Helicarriers was falling out of the sky. It fell with a groan like a dying monster, and after a half second of flailing with her wings, Maggie turned her back on the metal behemoth and dove to outstrip it. The falling Helicarrier had blacked out the sun, but the air around Maggie burned orange with the force of the explosions rending it from within.
She veered right, aiming to get out from under the carrier, but then an enormous hunk of metal - a Quinjet, she thought - scorched down right in her path and sent her yelping backwards. Then she felt glass raining down on her and she didn't have time for fancy flying. She couldn't pause, couldn't pull up, couldn't turn. She could only pit the full force of her engines against the terminal velocity of the falling Helicarrier. Her wings pulled in tight and her face burned from the wind tearing over her. She raced full-throttle into the yawning launchbay built into the Potomac. There was no up, only escape.
She shot downwards and then rocketed across the launchbay floor just as the Helicarrier hit the edge of the retaining wall. The almighty crash of metal, concrete, and thunderous water made her eardrums ache. The sky had gone dark.
Maggie's eyes darted until she spotted an access corridor leading out of the launch bay, further into the building. She veered in that direction, unable to distinguish any sounds now other than a violent, all-consuming roar.
She was a few yards away from the access corridor when she felt a chilling vibration at her back. She looked over her shoulder and saw the hundred foot wall of furious white water a second before it surged over her, swallowing her whole.
"You're out of your depth, kid," Rumlow snarled down at Sam Wilson.
Sam looked up, grimacing, just in time to see the enormous side of a Helicarrier emblazoned IN-01 drawing close to the office window.
Heart racing, he leaped to his feet and started running. Seconds later the Helicarrier collided with the Triskelion.
"You know me," Steve grit out as he and Bucky both climbed to their feet, panting and bleeding as the world fell apart around them. Bucky peered at him through the mess of his hair, with a wariness that quickly flashed to anger.
Steve barely got his shield up in time.
Bucky launched forward with a savage punch. "No I don't!"
Maggie surged up a flooded elevator shaft, her chest bursting and her engines somehow, miraculously, propelling her underwater. The tidal wave from the Helicarrier crash had pressed her against the wall of the INSIGHT launch bay for a terrifying fifteen seconds before the pressure had loosened enough for her to fight her way into the access corridor she'd spotted. Now she was struggling up, up, trying to overtake the rising tide that flooded the building. Only the glow of her goggles gave her light to see by as she pushed her engines and kicked her legs desperately, racing up the elevator shaft. The water pressed in around her, enticing and dark.
Her lungs burned for her to take a breath, and though Maggie knew this oily black water would be the death of her it was getting harder and harder to resist.
She felt her wings break the surface first - the cool air rushed over the metal barbs, a strange kind of relief, before her head broke through and she took a heaving, choking breath. Her gasps echoed strangely in the dark elevator shaft, clashing with the sounds of lapping water and distant explosions.
Treading water, Maggie felt around until she found the edge of a pair of elevator doors. She dug her claws into the gap and pulled, groaning between her gritted teeth. She heaved them open, inch by inch, and daylight began to pour through. She'd opened the doors to a carpeted corridor, illuminated by flourescent lights and the distant light of a window.
But with a crash the roof of the corridor she'd just revealed began to cave in. Rock crashed down as the building rumbled.
Maggie let the elevator doors shut with a clang, and fired up her engines once more. Elevator shaft it is.
Wind howled in the shattered underbelly of IN-01.
The Soldier drew himself to his feet, his chest heaving. Sparks and smoke blew in the air between him and the target, who had also staggered back to his feet. He wouldn't stay down. He wouldn't stop talking.
Your name is James Buchanan Barnes.
"I'm not gonna fight you," the target said. His shield fell from his grip, then slipped through an open space in the floor. "You're my friend."
Lightning flashed behind the Soldier's eyes. Malfunction. His heart pounded in his chest and his mind whirled and feeling surged through him: shock, then resignation, and then fury. He grit his teeth and let out a roar.
The target made no move to stop him when the Soldier lunged forward, seized him around the middle and slammed him back on the floor. His metal fist raised.
"You're my mission," the Soldier snarled. And then his fist rained down.
After the first blow the target seemed to barely feel it. His head ricocheted with each punch, and his skin split open, his bones fractured, but the pain didn't seem to register on his face. But the ice in the Soldier's mind only cracked further with each blow.
"You're - my - mission!" the Soldier shouted as he hit him. He wanted to comply, but this - this felt wrong. He raised his fist again, faltering. Malfunction.
"Then finish it," the target mumbled through broken lips. "Because I'm with you to the - the end of the line."
Steve.
The Soldier's eyes went wide.
Maggie had fought her way up the elevator shaft, across the Triskelion, and finally burst out a first floor window into the sunlight. She barely caught herself with her wings before she tumbled to the ground.
She staggered to a halt on a half-burnt lawn by a visitor's carpark beside the Triskelion, soaking wet and still coughing up smoke and river water. She spun, her heart racing, to see that half of the Triskelion had been destroyed, as if a giant had swiped its hand across the arcing structure. A great thick column of smoke rose up into the sky, turning the clouds black. The river had consumed the subterranean launch chamber and was now crashing at its banks. Two Helicarriers lay crumbled on the banks of the river.
Maggie whirled, eyes scanning over the sky, before she saw the last Helicarrier jutting out of the river.
For a few seconds Maggie's heart beat so loudly she thought it would explode. Then she tipped her head back and screamed.
She did not recognize the howl of rage and frustration that tore at her throat like fire. She screamed up at the blackening sky, her fists clenched and her heart breaking.
She could feel it: she'd lost him again.
No, she told herself even as she screamed. No, I refuse to lose again.
She could hear people talking over her comms, calling for Steve and calling orders, but she ignored them. She spread her wings.
Flying was a struggle. But Maggie's wings bore her upward, sagging only slightly to one side, and so she searched. She soared over the devastation of the Triskelion, her HUD scanning the many evacuees and first responders below. She flew across the smoking ruin at the base of the Triskelion, and then she banked over to the wreckage of the last Helicarrier in the river. She scanned the water.
The air tasted like burning oil. Maggie took a deep breath of it, steeled herself, and then plunged into the river. She dove down, her wings pushing her even deeper, until she found the targeting bay of the fallen Helicarrier. The glass dome was shattered, but she could see no bodies inside. She surged up, took a breath, then dove back down. She scanned the river bed for any significant temperature readings, but it was tricky to get an accurate scan what with all the half-molten metal lying at the bottom of the Potomac.
The fourth time she came up, breaking the surface with a gasp, she noticed a spot of color on a far riverbank. She paused, her feet still dangling in the water.
And then she was racing toward the riverbank, skimming low over the water as her heart pounded and her nerves raced.
Steve.
Her boots plunged ankle-deep in the mud with the force of her landing. She yanked herself free, wings flailing, and then struggled across the riverbank to drop beside the unconscious and bleeding man.
"Steve!" she cried, her voice thick. "Steve, talk to me!"
He lay on his back in the mud, his boots still in the river and blood soaking through his uniform from multiple gunshot wounds. His face was badly beaten and his eyes were closed. But he was breathing: a choked, gurgling thing.
Maggie fell to her knees by Steve's side and gripped his shoulder. She touched her commpiece. "Hill, or whoever's still out there: Steve's on the riverbank one click southwest of the Triskelion, I'm transmitting the location now. He needs urgent medical attention!" She pressed two fingers to his neck.
"Copy, medics en route," came Natasha's voice. "Is he conscious?"
"No," Maggie said frantically. "He's breathing, and his pulse is… thready, but there. He's lost a lot of blood."
As she continued checking Steve's vitals, Maggie looked to her right and stilled.
There were footprints in the mud.
They were heavy - boots, she'd guess. Large. They weren't hers, and they weren't Steve's. The footprints led up out of the water, over to where Steve lay, and then away. Into the treeline. There were no other footprints on this stretch of riverbank.
Steve's heartbeat pulsed against her fingertips as Maggie stared at the bootprints. Her own heart raced. She pulled her fingers away from Steve's neck. Her eyes were fixed on the footprints, to the direction they were headed.
"Wyvern, the medics are five minutes out," came Natasha's voice, threaded with concern.
Maggie drew in a sharp, shaking breath. She still had one hand on Steve's chest, but it had curled into a fist. Her eyes were still fixed in the direction of the boots.
"You stay with him, you keep him breathing," Nat said. "They'll be right there."
Maggie's fist tightened, making her knuckles creak. She couldn't look away from the treeline. Steve was a lump of cold, breathing flesh below her fist.
He could have just left. He could be on the other side of those trees. Her fist rose off Steve's chest, and her leg muscles bunched as she slowly got to her feet. I don't have five minutes.
"Where's he injured?" came Wilson's voice over the comms.
Maggie didn't look down at Steve. He lied.
She took one step toward the treeline, one step toward flames and ash.
But then Steve's breath caught, and became a strangled, wet-sounding choke.
Maggie's muscles burned. She wanted to run in the direction of those footprints, to chase and burn and finally, finally be satisfied.
You are my mission.
But Steve was choking. And Steve was her friend.
Maggie let out a croaking cry, an echo of her scream from earlier, and then dropped back down beside Steve again. She gripped his shoulder and heaved him up onto his side. The change in angle had him heaving, vomiting up brackish water onto the cold mud. Maggie pounded his back, probably too hard, and tears blurred her vision. Her teeth gritted as she cried.
When the paramedics arrived four minutes later she was still crying, even with her hands pressed against Steve's bullet wounds to keep the pressure on, even as she told them his pulse and breathing rates and helped lift him onto a stretcher.
Listen, listen: I know. Trust me.
Reviews
DBZFAN45: Maggie's had a big chapter last week, and it's only getting more serious for her! I like how you called it "Winter Soldier tunnel vision", I think she's definitely got that. It's been her lifelong mission and she can't really handle any distractions. And we finally got Sam Wilson in this chapter! Have a lovely week.
Guest: Thank you so much for your patience, you're very kind! I'm glad you liked the last chapter and I hope you liked this one ;)
MsMoe9: I do love a good cliffhanger, and there will be more to come ;) Hope you enjoyed the increased amount of Bucky this chapter and thank you so much for your kind review!
Morgzw: We are indeed up to some pretty significant moments! Thank you so much, you're too kind :)
Guest: I do enjoy the suspense! Hope you enjoyed this chapter :)
Aqua: Bucky indeed! We are right into the action as you can see, shit is going down. I love that you're so excited and I hope you liked this chapter! I'm so glad my course is almost done, thank you for your kind words :) Maggie did kinda interrogate the Black Widow, though Nat was not fooled at all lmao. Can't wait to see what you think of this chapter!