Chapter 11:
[Spartan POV]
[3 months later, SHIELD HQ, New York City]
[Virtual-reality.] Cap taps the white strip of tape on the floor with his feet, "On the line." The SHIELD recruits did as instructed. Cap stands in the center, "This is a simple exercise. All you have to do is get past me and ring the bell on the opposite side of the area." The first 3-man team readies themselves on the line. Karai blows the whistle signaling the start of the exercise. The three charges at Cap. Cap leaps onto the first guy and flips him onto his back. The second guy he takes down with a roundhouse-kick. The last guy tries to make a quick rush pass Cap. With a smirk, Cap throws his shield, sweeping the leg out from under him. "Here, I thought he was going to go easy on us," Wanda whispers, more to herself than anyone else. I smile under my mask, "That was him going easy." Wanda snaps a wide-eyed disbelieving gaze at me, then drops her head, "Now that is just unfair." We continue to watch Cap take down the other teams. "You would think they would've figured out the purpose of the exercise is to work as a team," I comment. "They'll figure it out. Eventually," Karai says. After an hour of training, we call a quit. "Alright, guys, log-out," Karai says, ending the virtual-reality simulation.
[Training-area.] Opening my eyes, I'm back in the real world along with Karai and Wanda. We take off the VR-headset. "Well, that was an experience. It felt so real. Pain and all," Wanda states, sitting up in her chair. "The brain makes it real. To the mind, pain's pain," Karai explains to her. The Sokovian woman regards my partner in confusion. "The phantom effect," I clarify. Karai nods, pointing a thumb toward me, "Yeah. Virtual-reality is a computer-simulated environment that can simulate the physical presence of the real world or fictional. The system was created by the US Army to train rookies and keep veterans sharp. Missions took place in a virtual environment, so not only did it assure safety, but the programs could be edited to produce almost any situation possible. As a result, the missions could range from combat training, weapon training, vehicle training, and others." "That's not even the real kicker. Perception of time is thrown out the window. In virtual-reality, time can be dilated to allow days, weeks, or months to pass in simulation while only a few minutes passed by in real-time," I add-in.
"Why could I not just use the VR-system to train in when I first joined?" Wanda questions. "You were poorly physically fit," I say, gesturing a hand to indicate the past, "Mind and body are not the same. Even if we did throw you in virtual-reality, it wouldn't do anything for you." "You may have the skills, but you won't have any of the physical attributes," Karai interjects, "Clint rectified that by bulking you up with all that physical training." Wanda nods understandingly.
[Wanda Maximoff POV]
[Room.] Once I enter my room, I drop my tired body onto my bed. 'What a day?' From the opposite side of the bed, the wolf-dog I adopted perks up his head. The wolf-dog leaps onto the bed and lays down next to me, nudging my hand to pet him, so I do. He has grown a lot in the last three months. Wondered if being a hybrid has anything to do with his growth? Either way, Ahab is a good company to have around. For a moment, I lost myself to sleep. Then, there is a knock at my door. "Come in," I call out, sitting up on my bed. Spartan enters, "Hey, just want to make sure you're doing okay." Ahab barks happily and makes his way toward Spartan, his tail wagging excitedly. He knees down and gives a nice stroke up and around Ahab's ear. I wave a dismissive motion, "Still shaking off the phantom effect, but I am doing alright. Thank you. It was nice to see the Captain again. Even if it was through virtual-reality."
Spartan rises to his feet, pockets his hands, "You'll get used to it quick enough. And yeah, it was to tag-up with Cap again." I peer out the window, eyeing the bright clear sky shining over the city. "Wanda," I hear Spartan call out to me. I blink, snapping out of my daze, then turns to him, "R-Spartan. Sorry, I was lost in my own head for a moment there." "Yeah, you okay?" he questions. I glance downward, then back out the window, "I was thinking about my older brother. Pietro. When I was a child, the whole family would spend the day in the park on days like this. Papa would run in the grass with Pietro and me, playing. Those times were so peaceful. Seems like a lifetime ago now...," shake my head, pushing out the sorrowful memory, "Sorry, I did not mean to bore you with my dejectedness." "No, you have nothing to be sorry for. If you want to talk or vent out, I'm all ears. Me and the team," he tells me. I shoot the masked crusader a genuine small bright smile, "Thank you. I-I would like that very much."
For two hours, we just talked. It's nice to vent out. Like Clint, Spartan isn't like any of the other guys I dealt with in the past. He treats me with courtesy and respect. But unlike Clint, the crusader makes my stomach start to flutter. In the months we have spent together, the more I grew to enjoy his company. Unfortunately, our time together is cut short by his comlink buzzing. "EPYON tagged an op. I got to go deal with it," he tells me. I nod, "Be careful out there. As you American soldiers tell each other, watch your six."
[Steve Rogers POV]
[2 Weeks later, The Smithsonian, Washington DC]
Riding my motorcycle through the city, after riding about for a few hours, I found myself in one of my favorite places, the Smithsonian. It's been a little weird coming here lately because the museum installed an exhibit on me. 'Steve Rogers a walking historical relic.' The last two days, been nagging me. Felt like everything I fought for was for nothing. Since when did we start sacrificing freedom for security? I shake my head. Walk through the exhibit as the voice-over plays, telling a version of my story. Stop at a group of mannequins wearing replicas of the uniform worn by the Howling Commandos. My eyes drift to the mannequin that's supposed to be Bucky. Turning, I saw a black-&-white picture of Bucky titled 'A Fallen Comrade.' The voice-over plays, "Both on school grounds and the battlefield Steven Rogers and Bucky Barnes were inseparable. Brothers in every way but blood. Barnes is the only member of the Howling Commandos to give his life in service to his country." I take a deep sad breath.
[Theater-room.] Next, I progress into a film room where I watch an interview with Peggy Carter. "That was a difficult winter. A blizzard trapped half of the battalion behind the German line. Steve, Captain Rogers, he fought his way through a HYDRA blockade that had pinned our allies down for months. He saved 1,000 men," she tells the interviewer, "Including the man who would eventually become my husband. After he died, Steve was still changing my life." I pull out the old compass from my pocket, admiring the only photo of Peggy I had. My mind dances at a distant memory of our one and single night together. 'Let her go, old man. Let her go.'
[Nick Fury POV]
[1 Day later, Triskelion, Washington DC]
[Office.] "Secure the office," I order. The windows polarize to a dark tinted shade. Other security measures I couldn't see started up as well. No electronic traffic could go in or out. I insert the USB drive Romanov had brought back into a terminal, "Open the Lemurian Star satellite launch file." The computer displays a message on the screen, "Access denied." 'The fuck?' "Run decryption," I order. "Decryption failed," the computer tells me. "Director override. Fury Nicholas J," I say, trying another approach. "Override denied all files sealed," the computer relays. "On whose authority?!" I demand. "Director Nicholas Fury," the computer tells me. Someone locked me using my own code. There aren't that many people that can do that. My mind starts to list off some suspects. I had suspicions something was going on within SHIELD but didn't have anything substantial to go on. Now the question is, how deep does this go, or rather how high? There's only one person I could ask. I make a beeline to the elevator.
[World Security Council office.] Alexander Pierce, liaison and member of the World Security Council. Four of the council members are in a heated talk with Pierce. The council members are present via hologram. I notice Gideon Malick is absent from the meeting. Interesting enough, he's on my list of suspects. A secretary walks over to Pierce to informs him that I'm in his office and needed to talk. Pierce strolls out of the meeting room, ignoring the councils' protest. "I work 40 floors away, and it takes a hijacking for you to visit," he says, walking to the office. "A nuclear war would do it too," I shoot back. I glance through the window, "Having a hard time?"
The man forces a smile, "It's nothing I haven't handle a million times before." I turn back to Pierce, "I need a favor. Call for a vote. Project Insight needs to be delayed." "Nick, that's not a favor; that's a sub-committee hearing. A long one," he says. The hidden anger in his voice isn't hard to miss. At least not for me. Like councilman Malick, Pierce wanted Project Insight ready to go ASAP. My suspiciousness of the man starts to rise. "It might be nothing. It probably is nothing. I want to make sure that it is nothing," I tell him. "But if it is something?" he asks. He was trying to see how much he could get out of me. I've been in counterintelligence long enough to know when someone is subtly trying to get me to spill secrets. I sigh, "Then we'll both be damn glad those Helicarriers aren't in the air." "Fine. I'll talk to the council," Pierce says. As I'm making my exit, I send out an encrypted message that SHIELD is compromised.
[Washington DC]
[Car.] I drive through the city. A lot is running through my mind. Part of me is hard at work mentally, kicking myself for not seeing the conspiracy sooner. I should've acted on it the first moment I got suspicious. My old age is finally catching up with me. Whatever is going on, it's connected to Project Insight. I activate the communication encryption protocol and call Hill. My second in command quickly answers. "I need you in DC. Deep shadow condition," I tell her, getting straight to the point. "Give me four hours," Hills says. "You got three," I say, ending the call. I stop at a traffic light. A police car pulls up next to me. The two cops inside stare me down. Their appearance hostile; eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. It wasn't my first time dealing with asshole cops. But this is different. Alarm bells are going off in my head, telling me to be ready for a fight. The light changes green, and everything turns mayhem.
[Karai POV]
[Hours later, Pakistan]
[Quinjet.] SHIELD tasked us with a high-priority mission. Intel team got actionable information; the TEN-RINGS got their hands on a nuke. The other STRIKE commandos are gearing up. I glance at Rumlow as he starts to brief the team on the mission. "Alright, listen up! The stolen nuke wasn't taken far. We have its location narrowed down to a missile assembly building. We'll go in by the roof and fan-out from there," he tells us, "Once we have the warhead, we'll disarm it on route to the rendezvous point." Joining us on this snatch-&-grab op is JSOC. "We're approaching the drop zone," the pilot calls out. "Ten-hut! Make ready," Rumlow yells out, getting everyone on their feet. The quinjet stealthily flies over one of the neighboring buildings. Alpha team rope-line down onto the roof. Weapon at the ready, we enter into the assembly building.
[Assembly-building.] Spotting an enemy, I quickly dash up behind him and throw my arms around his neck, putting him in back-choke-hold. The man is out cold in less than 2 seconds. "Got three on the lower level," a JSOC soldier reports. "Moving to clear," Spartan says. Spartan moves past me to the lower level. He grabs hold of the head of an unsuspecting sentry, slams him to the wall, quick-draws his pistol, and drops another three sentries ahead of him. "Clear," Spartan says into his comlink. Using the HUD, I spot a team of hostiles Loading the nuke on a vehicle.
"They're moving out! Bring the rain! Do not let them leave with that nuke!" I yell out. JSOC team come fast-roping down from an opening, firing on every enemy target. The entire facility just turns into a small war zone with bullets flying in all directions. I sprint across the catwalk, slide under a crate, drop three militia with headshots. Via HUD, I saw Spartan tackle an enemy who was trying to get a drop on me. "Nice save," I say to Spartan. "Someone got to watch your six," he says. "Well, as long as it's not my lower six. Don't want Wanda to get jealous, do we," I state back. Despite wearing his mask, I know Spartan's face is bright red with blush. "Mind on the op, Karai," Spartan deflects. "Nuke is secured," Rumlow says via comlink, "Mount up on the transport vehicle." I look over the railing. STRIKE and JSOC are starting to move out. At that moment, I feel like something is off. Spartan and I grapple down to ground-level. Landing on the transport vehicle, we head out.
[Evac-location.] We station down in the middle of an open field 10 miles out, waiting for our pick-up. It'll be a 2-hour wait time. Spartan taps my shoulder and hands me a bottle of water, which I happily take. We eye the other soldiers who are celebrating a successful mission. Spartan and I go join them. An hour passed. I hear something coming from the distance. Gazing over the horizon, I spot seven flyers. "Transport's early," Spartan says, standing next to me. At that moment, a message from Fury displays on our HUD. 'SHIELD compromised,' it reads. Once in range, the flyers start to open fire on us. "INCOMING!" Spartan yells.
He jumps on me, dropping both of us to the ground. It's complete chaos. Soldiers are ripped to shreds left and right. Those who aren't killed by the first pass start to fight back with everything they had. Getting to our feet, Spartan and I join the battle. Obtaining a rocket launcher, a JSOC soldier takes one of the flyers down. Three carriers land, dropping a small battalion of troops. They move on us, boxing us in. The Flyers still in the air make another past, wiping out a group of soldiers. There's only a handful of us still standing. JSOC soldiers are fighting alongside us are quickly killed one by one with insane shots to the head, leaving only Spartan and me, the last two still standing. The mercs surround us on all sides. A near-invisible shadow steps forward, deactivates the stealth-camo, revealing Drake. Spartan straightens. Rumlow and his team casually stride to the mercs. "You motherfucker," I growl, glaring hateful daggers at the man, "You sold us out." Rumlow smirk. Drake eyes the man, "The Bosses want you back in DC." "Hail HYDRA," he says, walking off. Both Spartan and I eyes gape in shock at Rumlow's words.
Drake dashes forward; he slams his fist to Spartan's face. I quickly take aim. But Drake zig-zags in close, takes hold of my gun, elbows me in the jaw, spins me around while still holding onto my arm, slams an elbow to the joint, breaking it. I scream out in pain.
[Spartan POV]
I jump to my feet, just in time to watch Drake break Karai's arm. He tosses her to the side. We stare each other down. "Drake," I growl the man's code-name. "Come on, Runt. Let's go," Drake says. Before I could move, Drake grabs me by the neck with one hand. I break out of his hold, arm-throw him to the ground. As the assassin jumps back to his feet, I rush at him, striking him in the chest with a jump-knee. Karai watches on in fear. My momentary distraction gives Drake the advantage. He punches me with a sturdy hook, sending me flying to the aside like a ragdoll.
"Spartan!" Karai yells. Karai goes back on the attack. But Drake easily fends her off. The assassin utterly outmatched her. Drake draws a blade, stabs Karai in the shoulder in a swift lighting speed motion, and then punctures the blade to her body's side. Karai screams in agony. She falls to her knees, blood streaming out of her wounds. I run forward, tackle Drake off of her. He back-elbows me in the face, throws a hand at my face, slamming my head to the wall. Karai tries to get back in the fight, but Drake kicks her square in the face, sending her back to the ground. He turns back to me. Drake swings his knife. I black the attack, push him toward the wall, rain down punches. Every blow I hit the assassin with is harder than the last. I felt the bone of his jaw crack under my fist. Drake pushes me off and spin-back-kicks me in the chest. The hit sends me crashing to the ground. The merc strides to the downed Karai. He grabs her by the head, yanks to her knees, and readies the blade for the killing blow. Karai spits in his face, "Fuck you." "No!" I yell out.
Drake is shot by an energy blast from out of nowhere, sending him crashing to the ground. The carriers hovering nearby are also shot down. I look up to see a man in an armored combat-suit. It's James Rhodes, AKA War Machine. The mercs start to open fire on the armored rescuer. With grace, he maneuvers around the air, avoiding the oncoming fire. The man blasts a few of the mercs. Jetting toward Karai and me, Rhodey takes hold of us and flies off. Drakes stands back up, glaring as we escape.