Chapter 12:
[Steve Rogers POV]
[The VA, Washington DC, USA]
I stop off at the VA to see Sam, might even help him out to impress that girl he's interested in. I need to connect with some regular people outside of SHIELD. Seeing the exhibit of my old unit, Bucky and Peggy had put me in a semi-depressed mood. I was feeling adrift, and Sam reached out. Hell, Sam, Spartan, and Karai all reached out, even Natasha. That simple support meant something to me.
[Support-group-room.] Walking the halls, I found Sam running a support group for Veterans. "The thing is, I think it's getting worse," a woman says. Sam focuses his attention on the woman as she tells her story. "A cop pulled me over last week. He thought I was drunk. I swerved to miss a plastic bag. I thought it was an IED," she finishes. I stay by the door, not wanting to intrude. "Some stuff you leave there. Other stuff you bring back. It's our job to figure out how to carry it. How we carry it is up to you," Sam tells the support group.
He wraps up the meeting. As the group disperses, Sam walks up to me. "Look who it is, the running man," Sam says jokingly. I nod at the now empty room, "Caught the last few minutes. It's pretty intense." "Yeah, brother, we all got the same problems. Guilt, regret," Sam trails off. "You lost someone?" I ask. He nods sadly, "My wingman, Riley. Flying a night mission. He got shot down by an RPG. Nothing I can do but watch helplessly." "I'm sorry," I tell him. It's all I could say to the man. "After that, I had a hard time finding a reason to be over there, you know?" Sam tells me. I look around the meeting room; it's everything you see from someone trying to get back into the world, "But you're happy now, back in the world?" "The number of people giving me orders is down to about zero. So, yeah, I'm good," Sam grins, "You thinking about getting out?" "No," I say, then corrected myself, "Well, I never really thought about it." "MMA," he jokes. We laugh.
[Rogers's apartment, Washington DC]
Walking up the stairs to my apartment, I run into my neighbor Kate. She's carrying a laundry basket and talking on the phone. Everyone seems to be on the phone all the time. After a short talk with the person on the other line, she hangs up to call. Kate drops the phone into the laundry basket and looks at me with a sheepish smile. "My aunt, she kind of an insomniac," she tells me. "Yeah. Hey, if you want, you're welcome to use my washing machine. Might be cheaper than the one in the basement," I say. Suddenly I'm nervous. Maybe Nat was right. I consider asking Kate out, but I didn't know how to approach the subject; Bucky was better at this than I was. She raises an eyebrow, "Yeah? What does it cost?" "A cup of coffee," I state. She smiles, "Thanks, but I already have a load downstairs, and you don't want my scrubs in your machine. I just finished a rotation in the ER. Big mess." I catch the hint of what she was saying. 'Thanks, but no thanks.' "Well, I'll keep my distance," I say. "Hopefully not too far," she says, "Oh, I think you left your stereo on." Kate heads off to do her laundry. Turn to face my door. I'm sure I didn't leave the stereo on.
[Apartment.] Cautiously, I enter my apartment through the window. Prowling, I grab my shield that was lying nearby. My stereo is on. Someone is clearly in here, but who and why? It didn't take me long to find out. Sitting on the recliner is Nick Fury. "I don't remember giving you a key," I say, feeling a little agitated. "You think I'd need one," he sasses. 'No, I guess not.' "My wife kicked me out," he says. That took me a little by surprise. I couldn't tell if he was telling the truth or lying. "I didn't know you were married," I say. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me," he tells me. "I know, Nick. That's the problem," I tell him, switching on the lights. The light illuminates Fury's bruised face, shocking me. I'm about to ask what happen, but he holds his hand up, cutting me short. Fury switches the lamplight off, types something into his phone then shows it to me. 'Ears everywhere. SHIELD's compromised,' the text reads. "Sorry I had to do this, but I had no place else to crush," he says. He types again, 'The PARAGADES are MIA.' "Who else knows about your wife?" I ask, playing along. "Just my friends," he tells me. Did he mean that, or was he saying that for whoever is listening in? "Is that what we are?" I ask a little harshly. "That up to you," he says. Suddenly there's a loud pop. Fury cries out and collapses to the floor. I spin to see a small size hole on the wall. I quickly drag Fury behind cover and kneel next to him. Fury reaches up, handing me a USB drive, "Don't trust anyone." The man goes limp. Someone breaks down my door. "Captain Rogers!" I pop my head out to see it's Kate, a pistol at ready, "Captain, I'm Agent 13 of SHIELD special service. I was assigned to protect you." "Whose orders?" I question. She comes around and sees Nick, "His." Kate moves to Fury, checks him over. She pulls out a radio from her pocket, "Foxtrot is down. I need EMS on my location." "Do we a location on the shooter?" the voice on the other end asks. I look out the window and spot the shooter, "Tell them I'm in pursuit."
[Washington DC]
I charge out the front window, sail across the street, landing inside an office, and then start running straight through the building, punching past windows, walls, and doors, never losing sight of the assassin. The shooter leaps onto the next roof. I jump after him. Rolling to my feet, I throw my shield to the assassin's back. With one arm, the killer catches it to my complete shock. His eyes glittered with hate. He throws my shield back at me. The force throws me back a few steps. When I get back my balance, the assassin is gone.
[Hospital, Washington DC]
I, along with Hill, watch the doctors did everything they can to save Fury. Natasha storms into the observation room. "Is he going to make it?" she asks in a low voice. It's the first time I've heard her sound vulnerable. Her expression is full of emotions. "I don't know," I tell her. "Tell me about the shooter?" she demands. There isn't much to tell. "Strong, fast, skilled, and has a metal arm," I say. Nat's eyes go slightly wide, but she quickly shakes it off. She turns her head to Hill, "Ballistic?" "Three slugs. No rifling. Completely untraceable," Hill states. "Soviet-made," Nate states to herself, knowingly. Hill spins to her, "Yeah. How-" Hill didn't get to finish. All our attention goes back to the doctors working on Fury. The machine keeping track of Fury's vital signs drops fast. "Get a crash cart in here now!" the doctor yells. The doctors start to move about frantically, doing everything they can for Fury. "Don't do this to me, Nick," Nat whispers. After a short while, all the doctors stop working and pull away. The monitors are all zeros. The line all flat. Fury is gone.
We stand with Fury's body for a while once he is wheeled out of surgery. I stand nearby the door, busy thinking about the USB drive in my pocket, giving Nat a moment of privacy. Whatever is on the flash-drive got Fury killed. Who can I trust to tell about it? I would've gone to the PARAGADES, but they're MIA based on what Fury told me back in my apartment. I wasn't good at this cloak-and-dagger stuff. I'm a soldier, not a spy. Hill enters, "I need to take him." Nat places a hand on Fury's head, giving him a final goodbye. This is a massive loss to her. Hell, it's a significant loss to everyone in SHIELD. Putting that to the side, I need to ask Nat a few questions, and they can't wait. Nat walks out of the room with me close behind.
"Natasha," I call out, walking up to Nat in the middle of the hall. She whirls to face me, "Why was Fury in your apartment?" "I don't know," I say quickly. She didn't believe me. Rumlow comes up behind me, "Cap, they want you back at HQ." He and the STRIKE commandos station at the Hospital in case the assassin took another crack at Fury. "Give me a second," I tell him. I have to finish the conversation with Natasha. She can get to the bottom of this conspiracy better and faster than I can, but I need to know if I can trust her. 'Don't trust anyone,' Fury's last words echoes. Who are the traitors, and who is still loyal to SHIELD? "They want you now," Rumlow demands. I glare at the man, "Okay." Wheel back to Nat. "You're a terrible liar," Nat states coldly. I'm a lot better at it than people give me credit for, only I don't utilize the skill very often. 'Think like Fury. What would he do?' Getting back on track, I stash away the USB drive in a hidden place and move toward Rumlow and the STRIKE commandos who are waiting for me.
[Spartan POV]
[Pakistan]
After an extended period, we finally touch down nearby what looks to be a new model quinjet. Couldn't help to draw the comparison to the pelican from the Halo games. "I was on a humanitarian mission when I got the encrypted message from Fury. What the hell is going on?" Rhodey asks. "An attack from within SHIELD," I told him. It's the only thing we knew. We're in the dark as much as he was. Karai's regenerative powers are just finished healing the last of her injuries. "Who are those mercs who attacked you?" he questions. Karai and I both shake our heads. "All we know is their leader's Drake," I say, "A mercenary, SUPER, and a psychopath." Karai starts to fill her in on the clusterfuck that went down before Rhodey showed up.
We didn't have many interactions with Rhodey because he's in the Air-force. Counting the Battle Of New York, we had only teamed-up on two missions. That moment, EPYON tags an SOS call. Karai pulls up her holo-computer and types away, "The SOS is coming from the Excalibur." Rhodey's eyes go wide with worry, "That's the ship I serve on!" He storms toward the quinjet, "Get on." Without being told twice, Karai and I follow right behind him.
[Steve Rogers POV]
[Triskelion, Washington DC, USA]
[Office.] Now, I stroll my way into Alexander Pierce's office in my uniform. The man's a bigwig in SHIELD and a member of the World Security Council. Noticing me, he stands up from his deck and reaches out a hand, "Captain Rogers, I'm Alexander Pierce." "Sir, it's an honor," I say, shaking the man's hand. "The honor's mind. My father served in the 101st," he says. Pierce starts to tell me a story of an incident in Bogota with him and Fury. Fury often told me politicians love to tell stories about themselves to oversell their importance. I'm starting to see where he got that idea. After Pierce is finished telling me the tale, he cuts straight to business. "Captain, why was Nick Fury in your apartment last night?" he asks me. "I don't know?" I tell him. "Did you know it was bugged?" Pierce tells me. "I did because Nick told me," I say. "Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it?" Pierce pushes. I didn't answer. I wasn't sure if it was true or why Pierce wanted to see me. 'Play dumb for a little bit. See what cracks.' "I want to show you something," he says. Pierce switches on a wall-screen. It displays footage of Batroc's interrogation. "Is he a suspect?" I ask. "Assassination isn't Batroc's line," he tells me, "After a few days of interrogation, he finally folded and gave us the name of his employer. Jacob Veech." The name didn't mean anything to me. "Am I supposed to know that name," I say. Pierce shakes his head, "Not likely. Jacob Veech died six years ago. His listed address was 1435 Elmhurst Drive. When I first met Nick, his mother lived in 1437."
Now I understood what he was getting at. And I didn't like it. Fury may be a lot of things, but a traitor isn't one of them. "Are you insinuating Fury hired the mercs? Why?" I demand. "The prevailing theory was that the hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour, and that led to Nick's death." I shake my head, "If you knew Nick Fury, you'd know that's not true." The man smiles a little, "Why do you think we're talking." I relaxed a slight bit. Pierce walks over to the window, staring out to the horizon, "See, I took the seat on the Council not because I wanted to, but because Nick asked me to because we're both realists. We knew that, despite all the diplomacy and the handshaking and the rhetoric, to build a better world sometimes means having to tear down the old one. And that makes enemies." It's at that moment I realized this man has a dangerous worldview. It was very similar to an old enemy. Zemo. Completely different from Fury. Despite our disagreement with methods, Fury wanted security and freedom equally. He never preached about tearing down anything. He faces me, "Captain; you were the last person to see Nick alive. I don't think that's an accident. And I don't think you do, either. I'm going to ask again. What was Fury doing in your apartment?" "He told me I shouldn't trust anyone," I say, giving him the only truth. "I wonder if that included him," Pierce shoots back. I don't know how to answer that, so I stick with the fact, "Sorry, that's all he told me." I start to move to the door. "Captain, someone murdered my friend, and I'm going to find out why. Anyone who gets in my way will regret it," he tells me. There I saw the eyes cold-hearted operative behind the facade of the politician. "Understood," I say, walking out.
[Elevator.] I step into the small space and punch the button to ground-level. Rumlow and a few STRIKE commandos quickly join me. "Cap," Rumlow says with a nod. I nod back to him. "CSI team found some fibers on the roof. They want us to check it out. Want me to get the tac team ready?" he tells me. I look out the glass wall over the city, still digesting my conversation with Pierce. I wasn't sure what to think of the man, but something is off with him. "No, let's wait and see what it is first," I tell Rumlow. He turns back to the other STRIKE commandos. A sense of danger triggers. The team is spread out around the elevator. It didn't feel like a group of people just standing in their own space. No, this is tactical. One of them rests a hand on the handle of his pistol taser. That isn't something an experienced soldier does unless he's planning on using it. The elevator stops, and more SHIELD agents get on. "I'm sorry for what happened to Fury," Rumlow says. It was quick, but I notice the slight smirk on Rumlow's face when he stated those words. "Thank you," I say. The elevator stops again, and two more STRIKE men step in. They're all evenly spaced out, with me in the middle. 'SHIELD compromised.' The phrase keeps echoing in my head. It's starting to become apparent this is a set-up. A set-up arranged by Pierce. Once the elevator closes, I make the first move. "Before we get started, does anyone want to get off?" I ask. There's a pause. And there's an opening. Jack Rollins spins around, swinging a taser baton. I push-kick him back to the wall. Someone behind me wraps an arm around my neck. Another group grabs hold of my arms, trying to get a magnetic cuff on me. I manage to fend them off by kicking out one of the goon's legs then throwing the other person to the glass wall. The guy on my left, I jam an elbow to his face, breaking his nose. A STRIKE commando tries to rush me. I kick him in the chest, sending it to the floor. Jack gets back up, but I drop him back to the ground by a palm strike to the throat. Grabbing the guy trying to choke me out, I swing him over my shoulder to a STRIKE soldier that knocks them both out.
Rumlow gets a hit off me via a cheap shot from behind, striking with the taser rod. My whole body lit up in pain. "For the record. I never liked you. I have been itching to take you out from the very start. At least you'll be joining your team of freaks in the afterlife," Rumlow taunts, grinning. A burst of anger erupts; I snap an elbow back, hitting Rumlow square in the face. He staggers, stunned. I storm him a combo of punches, grab him and throw him to the elevator ceiling, letting him fall hard unconscious to the floor. I pick up my shield, open the elevator door. A whole squad of heavily-armed STRIKE commandos waited for me outside. "DROP THE SHIELD AND PUT YOUR HANDS OVER YOUR HEAD!" a soldier demands. I spin around, destroying the elevator's control panel, sending it free-falling. The emergency brakes kick in. I could hear a group of soldiers moving through the hallway. 'Well, hard way it is.' I dash out the glass wall window. Landing on the ground, I make a break to the garage.
[Runway.] On my motorcycle, I drive over the bridge. A quinjet jets past me; it hovers stationary in front. "Stand down, Captain Rogers," a voice orders through the speakers. It starts to aim its weapon. 'Not going to happen.' I accelerated. The jet fires its gun; bullets rip up the surface of the bridge. I zig-zag in close, dodging the shots. I throw the shield to the jet's rotors. It dips low. I spring on top of the aircraft, jerk my shield free and throw it to the two main engines. Fire sparks out wildly from the thrusters. I leap clear from the jet as it crashes. 'Sitwell. That was Sitwell's voice coming from the speakers. He was also on the Lemurian Star. The puzzle pieces are falling into place.' I sprint, aiming to get back to the Hospital for that USB drive.
[Wanda Maximoff POV]
[SHIELD HQ, New York City]
[Training-area.] I pull myself out of virtual reality after spending six months virtual-time of none-stop training. Suddenly, I'm hit with a heavy sense of dread. The large TV within the training area streams a live feed of the NEWS. A middle-aged blonde-haired man stands before a swarm of reporters. I did not recognize him, but the caption on the bottom of the screen addressed him as Alexander Pierce, a World Security Councilman. "We have met the enemy, and he is us. Today, the world's elite fighting force, the AVENGERS, betrayed the people they are charged to defend. The first domino fell with the murder of Nick Fury, the director of SHIELD. The assassin, an AVENGER code-named Spartan. But this individual did not act alone. The rogue AVENGERS intended to use this situation to seize military intelligence and sell them to America's enemies. The rogue AVENGERS have gone beyond the boundaries of their mission. On my orders, STRIKE, a SHIELD special forces unit, terminated these traitorous rogues with extreme prejudice. As of now, the remaining AVENGERS are enemies of the state."
Didn't even have a chance to process what's happening as a team of tactical-suited soldiers storm into the training area, stun weapons directed on me. One of the soldiers barks out not to resist arrest. Slowly, I raise my hands, palms open, over my head, "This is a mistake! I am not your enemy!" My words are ignored. It is clear they already painted me as a threat. "KEEP YOUR HANDS UP! DOWN ON YOUR KNEES! NOW!" another soldier yells. A hooded figure bursts in via the window. He slams an arrow into the floor, emitting a sonic wave sound, disorienting everyone in the room, even me. Wasting no time, the hooded figure rushes over to me, grabs me by the arm. While towing me, the two of us leap out of the window and onto a near-invisible aircraft.
[Quinjet.] The hooded figure sprints to the pilot chair and punches the craft to fly off. "Sorry for the rough encounter. Your safety outweighed your comfort at that moment," the man says, pulling his hood down, revealing his face. "Clint!" I yell happily. Dach toward the man and wrap him into a hug. After a moment, we push apart. "Clint, what in the world is going on?" I question. He shakes his head, "I don't know, kid. One moment I'm on a mission, and all hell breaks loose after I get an encrypted message." Clint shows me the message on his phone. 'SHIELD Compromised.' I drag a hand through my hair, "What now?" He turns, places his hands on controls of the quinjet, "We're going to link-up with Coulson and his team, find the others. As of right now, he's the only one in SHIELD we can trust."