Someone from Saviours is coming back … can anyone guess who it is based on this chapter?
I had an absolute killer headache when I woke up this morning – the reason why this chapter wasn't up then. But here we are, finally got the editing done.
Captain America: Civil War | Shattering Relations | Cleveland
The sound of a spoon clattered against the side of a breakfast bowl as the man holding the utensil chewed through his previous bite. He was sitting at his dining room table, alone. The place was a mess around him in the form of piles and piles of paper, random things littered about, and broken ornaments. You could tell that he had been living alone for quite some time now, keeping to himself as much as he could.
This man was a former Coronel for the organization HYDRA – Coronel Vasily Karpov.
The man was in his late thirties, early forties with straw-like brown hair. He had rounded pencil gray eyes with a pointed nose and thin lips. He wore clothing that a man with nothing better to do would wear; an old jumped covering a two-day old plaid shirt. His jeans also looked worse for wear but it was noticeable that he probably didn't do much shopping. The only time he went out was probably to grab food and that's it.
It was when he took another bite from his breakfast that a sudden noise caught his attention – the sound of a skidding car, closely followed by a loud crunch just outside his door. His mouth paused, part of the cereal still uneaten in his mouth. His ears turned sharp when he slowly looked around to the front. His head was specifically looking to the windows that were covered with closed blinds.
He dropped the spoon into the bowl as he slowly got up from his seat, forgetting about the breakfast as he swallowed the last of it in his mouth. He cautiously went over to the blinds in his living him and leaned closer. He peeked through a miniature gap to see what was going on outside. The only thing he focused on was the sleek black sedan attached to the backside of his old convertible. It looked as though the driver of the sedan hadn't been looking where he or she was driving.
Standing by the sedan was a young-looking woman, probably ranging towards her late twenties with long and dark curly hair. The Coronel could only see the woman's backside but could still assess whether he should engage or not. She looked slightly nervous and panicked, putting a hand to her mouth as she noticed what damage she had caused to the stranger's car.
She looked genuine, but even the Coronel knew that looks could be deceiving.
The Coronel sharply stepped away from the blinds when the woman turned towards his house. He thought she had been looking straight at him. He took another step back from the window, hoping the woman would just do what many others would do and run away from their mistakes. He's made a lot of enemies in the past and there were a lot of people out for his blood – how was he to know whether he would face a genuine apologetic woman or a bullet? After everything, he didn't know whether he could take that chance or not.
"Hello?" Her voice pierced through the thin walls of his bungalow. It was an old place for the area and pretty run down, but it did the job of keeping the strangers away. Through the tiny gap still in his blinds, he watched as the woman began walking up to his door. The black high heels under her feet clicked away as she approached. She was small compared to him at around 5'8" while he was 6'3".
The shadow of her figure passed by the window, "Hello? Is this your car out front?" She voiced louder this time, knowing someone was inside because she noticed someone peeping through the blinds.
The Coronel began slowly making his way to the door but didn't intend to open it. He stayed silent as his eyes shifted towards the handgun resting on top of the table by his door. He kept glancing between the weapon and his door, trying to decide whether opening it would be a good idea.
"I jumped the curb." The woman continued, sounding apologetic but also hopeful. "Maybe we could … talk this out ourselves? If – If you wanna call the cops, that's okay, too I guess-" She was cut mid-sentence by a sharp male voice with a Russian dialect.
"-No," The Coronel couldn't let that happen. No cops could be involved since he was technically a wanted fugitive. Getting the police involved would not go well for him. He kept his cool, willing to do anything for this to go away, even get rid of the woman permanently. He's done worse things during his tenure as the soldier he was. "No cops."
Making his final decision; he started walking towards the front door and paused right next to it, making a final decision on whether he was making the right decision or not. He made his choice within a matter of moments and slowly lowered his hand onto the fortified steel lock keeping his door tightly shut. Grabbing onto the knob, he wrenched it to the right so it no longer held the door tight in its place. It was now free to be opened after the common front door lock was taken off its hook.
As the door began to open; the Coronel's reflexes had no time to react as a surprise attack hit him.
The last thing the man felt before blacking out was the sheer force of a tire iron being bludgeoned into the side of his head.
…
SMASH … SMASH … SMASH …
The woman continuously smashed through a plasterboard wall in the basement, wielding a sledgehammer in her hands. Bits of the rubble crumpled to the ground in large chunks. It took a couple of minutes but eventually, there was a large enough hole in the wall to see through to the other side. It was an empty cubby hole with nothing but a medium sized chest sitting in the middle of it. It was clear by the location of this chest, it had never meant to be found by anyone other than the owner of it.
The sledgehammer hit to the ground with a loud bang.
Coronel Karpov was straining against his restraints, his wrists bloody and scarred as the rope continued to burn away at his skin. He was strung up by his feet, upside down, his hands tied behind his back and leaning against a pole and a piece of thick wood. Underneath him from a laundry basin that was slowly filling up with water. The tap was gradually filling it beside his ear - the flow of liquid bringing him closer and closer to death. He still had a couple of minutes before his breathing would be completely submerged beneath the water.
He could only watch as this unknown woman climbed out of the secret room with his hidden chest of treasures. These valuables were kept hidden deep for a reason – it's everything to do with HYDRA and everything he had previously worked on during his employment. He assumed the woman couldn't read or decrypt any of his stuff and that's the reason why he told her where everything was. He also didn't want to die, but if it was for a cause, of course he would.
The woman walked forwards with the box to the standing table in the middle of the room and tossed all the contents out. In the end, there was a pile of files, photos and a dirty velvet red book with a black star engraved in the middle. All the pieces of paper had a clear HYDRA logo located in the corner, noting which organization the information belonged to. It even appeared on either side of the chest in a bold black color that could be seen through the thin layer of dust.
She reached forwards and grabbed the top file, putting aside the red book for now. She flipped to the first page which showed a single photo of the very man she had strung up like a chicken. "Hmm." She hummed, finally talking for the first time since Karpov had woken up, "You were very cute back in the day, Coronel." She had a slight accent to her voice, but if she tried hard enough, she could pass off as an American. "Now you just look like a shriveled-up fool." The photo was probably taken around twenty years ago, given by the difference of the new and old.
Pursuing through the files further, she couldn't find the thing she was looking for. For years, she had been working on something, keeping in the dark, and planning down to the very last detail. It wasn't until a couple of months ago that she gathered intel that now was the time to really emerge herself out of the dark and complete her plan. There were several reasons why she was doing this – and those are the only things that matter to her right now.
This was something she wasn't letting go until the mission was complete and she got her revenge.
"Mission Report: December 16th, 1991." She commenced into her questioning, not wasting any time. She didn't so much as peek over to the man as she continued looking through the dozens of files in front of her.
Karpov could feel the blood in his body rushing down to his head - it felt heavy and full. It wasn't a very nice feeling. "Who are you?" He questioned back, not answering her question. He wasn't about to be bested by a measly female since it would be an insult to his very faith. He watched as she settled the folder back onto the table before picking up the special book instead.
Her head turned up towards him and she looked him straight in the eye, "Katherine." She answered with barely any tone to her voice. "But mostly, I just go by Kathy." Even though you could discern what her voice may have been feeling, you could tell by her facial features that there was a tick of anger still there. He hadn't answered her question. "Now, I will repeat my question - mission report: December 16th, 1991."
"How did you find me?"
The woman was increasingly growing impatient and no longer did she look like the nice woman that had accidently bumped into the back of a man's car. Above that, she decided to answer his question anyway.
"When S.H.I.E.L.D fell … Black Widow released HYDRA files to the public." She said, "Millions of pages and much of it was encrypted. It wasn't easy to decipher but I have … experience. Not so much patience these days, though. A man or woman can accomplish anything when they put their minds to it."
Karpov could see the blinding rage that was circling within her eyes and did the stupid thing of doing the exact opposite of what she wanted. "What do you want?" He repeated a question she had already explained twice now.
The little light coming from the basement window shone against her face, highlighting the freckles covering the tops of her cheekbones and her pale skin. Looking closely, she was likely to be in her early thirties instead of the late twenties he had originally thought. Her hair was still dark-looking but probably a more a rich hardwood color.
"Mission Report: December 16th, 1991."
It's not that Karpov just didn't want to answer, he couldn't because if he did, that would be betraying his faith in HYDRA. Also, he simply didn't remember every single mission he had been a part of. Especially those being asked by a one single date reminder. 1991 was many years ago - how was he supposed to remember all the way back then? Especially as he's been involved with hundreds of HYDRA missions?
"Go … to … hell." He spat while making no move to even try and answer her question, even for the sake of his own life. He was breathing heavily at this point, the water so very close to the top of his eyebrows. The water continued to stream down the side of his body, crawling up his shoulder to the pool beneath him.
The air turned silent, the only sound coming from the water.
Katherine stared at him for a moment with her nose crinkled from the frustration the man was giving her. What was it with HYDRA agents and not being complete wusses? It was never an easy; ask a question – get an answer. There was always a struggle. She strode towards the basin where the man was being strung above. Leaning down towards his face, she placed her hands either side of his head on the edges of the sink.
Unintentionally; Karpov started struggling harder in his restraints because he was no doubt she was about to so something to him. Much to his inner surprise, she simply turned off the tap that had slowly been drowning him. He noticed the displeasure beneath her skin coming out in full force. Though, it was clearly being held back as much as it could.
"HYDRA deserves its place on the ash heap after everything it's done to my family." It looked as though she was itching for blood because there was clear anger in her voice this time, "So your death would not bother me one bit. But, I'd have to use this book…" She raised the red book up in front of him, "…and other bloodier methods to find what I need. I don't look forward to killing innocents, but if I must to get what I want, then I must. You, my friend, would only be dying for what little pride you still have left."
Part of her expected an answer in return, but in the end, all she received was nothing but a resistant silence. Sighing with a shake of her head as if she were disappointed in him, she reached forwards and twisted the tap on once again. However, this time, she turned it all the way to it's fastest setting.
Coronel Karpov didn't move a muscle having accepted his fate for a cause he had been a part of since he was a teenager. Slowly but surely, the water levels rose within seconds of each other. It wasn't long until his eyes were being covered and all that was left was his nose and mouth. The last thing that came out of his mouth had been fully expected given who he had been tethered to.
"Hail … HYDRA."
The last physical sound that came from him were the struggles his body made in the water. The lack of oxygen quickly pulled him towards the darkness and it took a minute or so but finally, the water stilled as the last air bubbles reached the water's surface. The air grew still as another life dies in a dirty old basement.