Wow, I'm on a roll this weekend! XD Here's another update, a little longer when which I hope you like! Again, small amount of cussing, just for fair warning. I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! :D
Steve turned on the lights and looked around. The building smelled old and out of use. It was weird coming back to his old base where everything had changed. He had a bad feeling everything was about to change again. Steve had a bad feeling all around but that had started with Fury's death. It was just…his old base, the convenience with which they found the base, and the fact that only he would recognize this building was out of place spelled trouble. He didn't like this, not one bit.
"This is SHIELD," Natasha said in surprise, walking towards the large logo at the end of the room. It was the old SHIELD logo, one that hadn't been in use for a while. Why did the drive come from a SHIELD base?
"Maybe where it started," Steve added. He looked around, scanning the place for life but life hadn't been in this room for years. Natasha pointed to a door on the right and Steve opened it. They walked into a room with cabinets and old pictures lining the wall. Pictures that Steve recognized.
"There's Stark's father," Natasha commented.
"Howard." The looked startlingly alike. Steve had forgotten what Howard looked like. To the left of Howard sat Peggy's picture. Images flashed in Steve's mind from the first time he'd met Peggy to the moment he saw the life leave her body. Emotions roiling, Steve scowled. Not now, not now, he chanted to himself. He would stay focused on the mission.
"Who's the girl?" Natasha asked, seeing where Steve was looking. Steve didn't trust himself to speak so instead, he walked away. Thinking about Peggy and even Howard hurt too much right now.
Steve walked down the row of shelves, looking for something, anything that would explain their situation. Why did a piece of modern technology come from a place of the past? It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. And then Steve heard it. A whistling sound, like wind coming through the walls. Steve stopped in front of a shelf and listened more intently.
"If you already working in a secret office..." Steve started and then pulled the bookshelf to the side. It groaned from lack of use and he could hear gears turning. He pushed the book shelf farther, ignoring the screech of metal, to reveal an elevator. Natasha walked up behind him, looking over his shoulder.
"Why do you need to hide the elevator?" They looked at each other and walked to the elevator together. Natasha whipped out her phone and used some spy technology to figure out the code to work the elevator. Steve admitted that was pretty cool and very functional. He should ask her where to get a phone like that, after their lives were no longer in danger. The doors opened and they descended in the old elevator in silence.
Steve could feel his nerves fraying; he'd been on high alert for too long. His senses were in overdrive and his mind ran circles around itself trying to figure out what the heck was going on. The doors opened to a dark, spacious room. They stepped out quietly, each taking in the darkness around them as the doors closed behind them. Steve immediately saw a difference betweent he two rooms. The SHILED room upstairs had looked like something out of the fifties but the elevator was advanced with doors closing by itself. To add to the difference, lights flickered on the farther Steve and Natasha walked. What they saw didn't make sense. If the elevator was of more modern technology, the computers in front of them were ancient.
"This can't be the data-point, this technology is ancient," Natasha said as they stepped onto a higher platform. She looked around at the computers with a smile of disbelief. Steve looked around, his mind spinning and saw Natasha place the flash drive in a port out of the corner of his eye. Computers kicked on, wheels started turning, and the room was illuminated, showing hundreds of computers smushed together throughout the room.
"Initiate system?" the computer mechanically said.
"Y-E-S, spells yes," Natasha whispered as she typed in the answer. The computer came to life, whirring and crackling. Steve looked at the dusty keyboards and monitors in disbelief. Nothing made sense.
"Shall we play a game?" Natasha smirked, looking back at Steve. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was not in the mood for jokes.
"It's from a movie that..."
"Yeah, I saw it." They watch as the main computer screen flickers with green and starts to show a face. The video camera above the computer moves to the left, looking at Steve.
"Rogers, Steven. Born, 1918," a recorded voice spoke. Steve got chills. Something about the voice sounded familiar.
"Romanoff, Natalia Alianovna. Born, 1984."
"It's some kind of a recording," Natasha said, confusion and defense in her voice.
"I am not a recording, Fräulein. I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945, but I am…" another computer screen showed a picture of a man Steve thought he'd never see again. Dr. Arnim Zola. What was going on? Steve's heart rate picked up and his skin felt cold.
"Do you know this thing?" Natasha looked at Steve, discomfort evident in her features. Steve couldn't believe what he was hearing. Nothing made sense. He started walking around the computers, trying to find something that explained the chill that had settled in his gut.
"Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He's been dead for years," Steve explained, almost to convince himself. He had never looked into the doctor's whereabouts or history. Had never wanted to know what had happened to the man that had experimented on Bucky.
"First correction, I am Swiss," the computer replied haughtily. "Second, look around you. I have never been more alive." The machinery around Steve whirred, mimicking the activity of a mind.
"In 1972 I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body, my mind, however, that was worth saving on two hundred thousand feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain." Steve ignored how creepy that sounded. He needed to know why he was standing in Zola's brain in the first place. Why would someone save this man's brain?
"How did you get here?" Steve demanded.
"Invited," was the simple answer. Steve looked to Natasha for explanation. A sheepish look crossed her features before she elaborated.
"It was Operation Paperclip after World War II. SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic values."
"They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own."
"HYDRA died with the Red Skull," Steve said, defensively. He had to believe that or else…
"Cut off one head, two more shall take its place." The computer flashed the HYDRA's symbol and then split into two heads. Steve felt like puking.
"Prove it."
"Accessing archive." The surrounding computers buzzed and clicked showing images of the last few decades. It landed on a picture of Johann Schmidt, the Red Skull.
"HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize, was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist." Steve watched in fascinated horror as pictures of the war flew by and pictures of him fighting.
"The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, SHIELD was founded and I was recruited." A picture of Peggy and Howard popped up, standing in the room Steve and Natasha had just been in. Another picture of Zola's mugshot flashed across the screen.
"The new HYDRA grew. A beautiful parasite inside SHIELD. For seventy years HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed." Videos of carnage, destruction, and war crossed the screen, reaffirming Zola's story. Steve's heart pounded in his chest as his gut churned in horror. A flash of a red star against silver metal threw Steve back to the roof on the night Fury died. If what Zola was saying was true then the assassin was part of HYDRA, which meant…
"That's impossible, SHIELD would have stopped you," Natasha interrupted.
"Accidents will happen." The screen showed a newspaper clipping announcing Howard and Maria Stark's death. Another picture showed Fury's face with the stamp "Deceased" across it. Anger, confusion, and revulsion boiled in Steve stomach but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen.
"HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA's new world order will arise." Steve's face twitched in anger. All of his suspicions, all of his paranoia fueled worries were coming true. But what made him furious was the war Bucky died for, the organization Peggy had created meant nothing. HYDRA was still working and nothing he or his friends had done stopped it.
"We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your Life; a zero sum-" Steve punched the computer, not wanting to hear the confirmation of his fears, not wanting to hear the voice of the sick bastard-
"As I was saying..." the computer activated voice said from a different, smaller computer screen. Steve clenched his jaw and reigned in his anger. Fine, Zola wanted to talk, he'd talk.
"What's on this drive?" Steve demanded.
"Project Insight requires insight. So I wrote an algorithm."
"What kind of algorithm? What does it do?" Natasha asked, voice laced in fear.
"The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it." Metallic screeches could be heard throughout the room and Steve whipped around to find strong metal doors closing over the elevator doors. He threw his shield in a desperate attempt to stop them but he's too late. Natasha's phone beeped as Steve caught his shield and he turned back.
"Steve, I got a bogey. Short-range ballistic. Thirty seconds, tops." Natasha's voice wavered and her face blanched of all color.
"Who fired it?"
"SHIELD." And just like that, everything made sense. Horrible, terrible sense. HYDRA had infiltrated SHIELD from the beginning and the movement that Steve had tried to smother had thrived. With his help.
"I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain," Zola's recorded voice nearly sing-songed. Steve spun around, looking for an exit while Natasha grabbed the drive from the port. Need cover, something to withstand the blast, Steve thought. His eyes landed on a metal grating that covered an empty rectangle of floor. Steve ran to it, Zola's voice in his ears.
"Admit it, it's better this way. We're both of us...out of time." Steve threw off the grating and looked back at Natasha. She ran towards him and just as she reached him, the building exploded. Steve grabbed Natasha and jumped into the floor as the force from the blast burst above them. He held her tightly to his chest and his shield over them, hoping to take most of the explosion. Natasha stayed under Steve's protection as much as possible, clinging to his jacket. The explosion rocked the floor and the building began falling on top of them. Rocks and debris hit Steve's shield and he grunted as larger and larger pieces fell. Everything around them became dark and filled with dust. Steve's body screamed in agony as the building fully collapsed on them, burying them alive.
Charlie yawned and squinted as sun streamed into the kitchen. She sat up in the chair and groaned, rubbing her neck. She'd finally fallen asleep after her tenth batch of scones but unfortunately it had been in a chair, not her bed. Charlie rubbed her eyes and looked at the baskets of scones. Pans littered the countertop and she thanked her foresight for turning off the oven. That would've been bad if it had been on all night. Stretching, she stood up and walked to the sink. Time to do some dishes and clean up her night. Charlie fell into a rhythm as she mechanically did dishes, not thinking about why she had to do dishes or why she'd stayed up all night. However much she tried, Steve was still on her mind and the sinking feeling had only grown stronger.
"Looks like you've been busy," Nathan commented, startling Charlie. She sighed, smiling sheepishly.
"Yeah, couldn't sleep," Charlie said. Nathan yawned and took a towel, drying the dishes Charlie had washed.
"Certain someone on your mind?"
"I'm worried about him, Nattie. What's happening on the news, him being a fugitive…something's not right."
"I know. I feel it too. Is that why there was a crash last night?" Charlie squirmed at the question.
"Yeah." It was partly the truth. She had dropped the pan because she'd been thinking about Steve which had led her to think of her fa-
"I didn't wake Nana up, did I?" Charlie asked in a hurried voice. She wasn't going to think about it, didn't want to think about it. Nathan looked at her with a sad look but shook his head. He never pushed Charlie to talk, it had never worked in the past. They worked in silence for a time, the water sloshing in the sink the only sound occupying the room.
"How long did it take me to trust you and Nana?" Charlie asked quietly. Nathan hummed at the question, thinking about his answer.
"It took a while. I think it was your first day of Jr. High when you ran back to us to give us a hug that I knew you would stay with us. Up until then, I always worried you'd run away, leaving our house empty of your sunshine," Nathan said. Charlie remembered that day. It was the first time she'd seen Nathan and Betty as hers, her new family. That was also the day she'd used their nicknames "Nana" and "Nattie." She'd never gone back to their real names since.
"You and Steve have gotten close pretty quick," Nathan commented, stating the observation both he and Betty had noticed. It had made them extremely happy, though they didn't share that with Charlie.
"I know," Charlie nearly whispered. It scared her and made her feel small. It didn't make sense to Charlie why she'd gotten so close to Steve. When she was younger, it had taken her several years before she really talked to her classmates. It had taken two years for her to hug Betty and Nathan. So why had it only taken two weeks for Charlie to become friends with Steve?
"Steve's a good man. I don't know how to explain it but I knew the moment he walked into our diner, there was nothing sinister about him. He's an honest man with no ulterior motive. That's pretty rare to find these days," Nathan said. He was watching Charlie closely, trying to judge her reaction. She bit her lip, concentrating on washing the dishes.
"Lotte, it's okay to reach out. I think Steve needs a friend as much as you do." Charlie looked up at Nathan, searching his kind face. Nathan smiled gently and changed the topic. Charlie would figure it out on her own, she always did. All he could do was be there for her, even if he didn't say anything.
"Speaking of which, any word from Steve?"
"No, I think his phone is either off or dead."
"That boy is in a heap of trouble. Well, we'll defend him if it comes to it." They fell into easy conversation after that. Charlie pushed away her fear and worry, focusing on the day ahead of her. Steve would be okay, he had to be.
Steve didn't like his plan but there was no other choice. He knocked on Sam's door, knowing he was there because he'd just seen him get back from his run. Sam was the only person Steve could trust. He had just met him and had no ties to SHIELD, that he knew of. Steve knew he was taking a risk but he trusted his gut on this one. Sam was a friend, albeit a very new one. The shades were drawn up, revealing Sam's confused and surprised face. Steve fidgeted as Sam opened his door, guilt seeping into his heart for pulling him into his mess.
"Hey, man," Sam said.
"I'm sorry about this. We need a place to lay low," Steve explained. There was a beat of silence.
"Everyone we know is trying to kill us," Natasha added. Those were the first words she'd spoken since she'd woken up. Steve had carried her away from the base sight until he felt it was safe. He'd checked her for injuries and then kept going, carrying her. She'd woken about two hours ago and had followed Steve without a word. Steve had never seen her so shaken.
"Not everyone," Sam stated, stepping aside so they could come in. He closed the sliding door and dropped the blinds down. He turned towards them and glanced over them.
"You could use a wash. Spare bedroom and bathroom down the hall and to the right."
"Thank you, Sam," Steve said sincerely. Sam nodded, taking a bottle of orange juice in his hands. Steve left him to digest his new situation and followed Natasha to the spare rooms. Natasha was already in the bathroom by the time Steve got there. He looked around and found some towels in a cupboard, laying them on the bed. He looked down, assessing how he looked. He had definitely looked better. His clothes were dirty and tattered, his body feeling much the same. Having a building fall on you wasn't what Steve called fun. But, he could feel his muscles healing. They felt sore, like after a good run.
Natasha came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, hair wet and eyes distant. She had discarded her sweater but left both her pants and shirt on. Natasha took one of the towels from the bed and Steve saw that as his cue to give her some space. He took two of the towels to the bathroom, soaking one in the sink. He took of his ragged shirt and jacket, leaving his pants and undershirt on. Taking the soaked towel, Steve did a quick rub down to get most of the dirt and grime off of his skin. He ran some water through his hair, drying it with the second towel. Washing his hands, he saw Natasha in the mirror, drying her hair. She had probably the most emotion on her face Steve had ever seen, but he didn't like what he saw. She looked sad and lost all in one. He dried his hands and looked at her from the doorway. Natasha glanced up and the averted her eyes. Strange.
"You okay?" Steve asked.
"Yeah," Natasha replied. She didn't even try to make it sound true. Again, Steve trusted his gut and sat in front of her. She watched him, calculating what he was doing.
"What's going on?" Steve asked softly. Natasha's eyes seemed to waver in and out of focus. She looked desperately lost and Steve wondered if that's what he looked like when he came out of the ice.
"When I first joined SHIELD, I thought I was going straight. But I guess I just traded in the KGB for HYDRA. I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but...I guess I can't tell the difference anymore," Natash said, her voice growing thick towards the end. Steve sympathized with her, knew what she was feeling. True, he hadn't been telling lies for SHIELD or HYDRA, but he had been working for them.
"There's a chance you might be in the wrong business," Steve said, repeating what she'd said in the car yesterday. Natasha scoffed, mouth quirking in a smile. She studied him for a moment, searching his face. Steve stared back, letting her make her assessment.
"I owe you," she breathed.
"It's okay," Steve said, shaking his head.
"If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life, and you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?" Steve thought for a moment, thought back to his thoughts about Natasha yesterday. She'd been so fluid yesterday, slipping in and out of characters and charades. He hadn't fully trusted her. But now, with that statement, he did. Natasha was vulnerable and open, and she reminded Steve of Charlie. How scared she'd been when she'd told him about her abusive father, desperate for him to still accept her for who she was. Natasha had that same look.
"I would now." Natasha's eyes widened and she leaned back, disbelieving. "And I'm always honest." A mischievous spark flashed in Natasha's eyes and she smirked.
"Well, you seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing."
"Well, I guess I just like to know who I'm fighting." Steve leaned back, realizing that he was kinda happy. Maybe happy wasn't the right word but he was better than yesterday. His mind seemed clear and focused. He knew who his enemy was, now he just needed a plan to take them down.
"I made breakfast," Sam announced. "If you guys...eat that sort of thing." Steve raised his eyebrows at Natasha, asking if she wanted any. She blinked and Steve took that as a yes. They followed Sam into the kitchen where the smell of food wafted towards them. The smell reminded Steve of Charlie and the doubt came flooding back. Could Charlie be trusted? His gut said yes but the doubt had grown too much for Steve to simply push it away. He needed to talk to her, ask her directly. How he did that or if he should, would have to wait until later.
"So, I don't remember giving you my address," Sam said bluntly, handing Steve a plate of eggs. Steve accepted the plate and sat down.
"No need," Natasha said, grabbing a plate of her own. "I ran a background check on you after I picked Steve up the other day." Steve gave her a look and she shrugged.
"What? Once I saw he was an ex-soldier, I knew he was fine. His pysch eval didn't show anything unusual either. Plus, I figured it was time you made some friends." Steve rolled his eyes and turned back to Sam. He shook his head in return and sat down.
"Alright, tell me what went down." Steve and Natasha looked at each other, silent conversation passing between them on what to tell him.
"Look, you don't need to tell me a lot but you are in my kitchen. So, my house, my rules. What's up with SHIELD and why are you guys a fugitive?" Sam asked. Steve liked his bluntness it was refreshing.
"SHIELD's been compromised…" Steve started to explain. He and Natasha went back and forth, filling in the details of the story. Steve trusted his instinct and told Sam everything. Natasha followed his lead without questioning why they were putting so much faith in a man Steve had met a week ago.
"So, the question is: who in SHIELD could launch a domestic missile strike?" Natasha asked, pacing. They were to the point now where they were trying to figure out the smaller details. A puzzle piece fell into place.
"Pierce."
"Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world."
"But he's not working alone, Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star," Steve argued. Sam was buttering some toast, listening to the conversation.
"So was Jasper Sitwell," Natasha said. Of course, Steve thought. We need to find him.
"So, the real question is: how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a SHIELD officer in broad daylight?" Steve asked of no one in particular. Subtlety wasn't his strong suit, as illustrated by earlier events and Natasha didn't have the resources to create a full disguise. Sam moved around the kitchen and then back to Steve, a folder in his hand.
"The answer is: you don't," he said, pointing the folder at Steve and then dropping it on the table.
"What's this?"
"Call it a resume." Steve stood up as Natasha took the photo that was resting on top. Two men were featured in the photo in combat gear, one of them Sam.
"Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you." Natasha glanced at Sam and then to Steve. "You didn't say he was a para-rescue." Well, Steve hadn't known. Again, he'd only met the man a week ago. Paranoia creeped up, trying to tell Steve not to trust Sam but he squashed it. Sam could be trusted.
"Is this Riley?" Steve asked, remembering their conversation at the VA.
"Yeah." Sam put his hands behind him, resting on the back of a chair.
"I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers because of the RPGs. What did you use, a stealth chute?" Natasha asked.
"No. These," Sam picked up the folder and handed it to Steve. He looked inside and his eyebrows rose. Pictures of wings and Sam flying, actually flying, were among some of the papers detailing his missions.
"I thought you said you were a pilot," Steve said, amused.
"I never said a pilot," Sam retorted, smiling. Steve looked back down at the folder, knowing that's what they needed. But…
"I can't ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason."
"Dude, Captain America needs my help. There's no better reason to get back in." Well, he had tried. If Sam wanted to help, Steve would take all the help he could get.
"Where can we get our hands on one of these things?" Steve asked.
"The last one is at Fort Meade, behind three guarded gates and a twelve-inch steel wall," Sam explained. Steve looked at Natasha to see if she thought they could do it. She shrugged nonchalantly. The silent conversations were getting easier to understand. Steve pegged that to the many missions they'd been on together and their new found trust in each other.
"Shouldn't be a problem," Steve answered. This felt good. The enemy was identified, they'd gained trust and an ally, all they needed was a plan.