The Asset stayed in the exhibit until the Museum closed, reading every scrap of text, examining each artifact minutely. The voice was of assistance, filling in some details beyond what was written down. In the dark room where a film loop played, the Asset spoke to the voice. "What... who are you?"
"I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you Nobody too? Then there's a pair of us - don't tell! They'd banish us, you know."
Sorry - don't imagine Emily Dickinson appeared in any of your mission briefings. Or Jiminy Cricket, tho he fits even better. I guess I'm what your bosses kept trying to get rid of, like a bad penny.
"You knew him, from before. You caused the mission to fail."
Damn right I did - couldn't have you offing my best friend. Hell of a thing - him 'n me both ending up here after so much time. Do you think he survived, after you dragged him out of the river?
The Asset was unsure if an answer was required. The voice often asked questions it did not expect answers to. "Captain America is a public figure - his death would be reported in various news outlets."
Not much for tact, are ya? Let's grab some newspapers and see what the hell is going on in the world. Then maybe we can make some plans.
The Asset liked the sound of "we". It implied personhood, versus being a piece of equipment to be used then set aside until the next mission. The voice treated the Asset as a teammate. And team mates cooperated, contributed towards achieving common goals.
Yeah, I got your back, punk. Let's blow this joint before people start looking at you funny for talking to yourself.
Steve had called ahead, and the staff said Peggy was having a good day. He hoped that would make this visit a little easier, though he'd still have to play things by ear.
Once the pleasantries were out of the way, he finally asked, "Peggy - what can you tell me about the Winter Soldier?"
She gave Steve a rueful smile. "There's a name I never expected to hear again. We all thought the Soldier was a ghost story for so long. In the mid 1980's, a diligent junior SHIELD agent by the name of Coulson collated all the reports and rumors to give us the big picture. It seems the Soldier's first appearance was in the early 1950's. He appears to have been under the control of a Soviet division of HYDRA, but may have been loaned out, so to speak, to other organizations over the years.
"A gifted sniper with strong hand-to-hand combat abilities,the Soldier was credited with dozens of assassinations, as well as acts of sabotage and various espionage activities. The few survivors of encounters with him described him as an automaton, implacable and ruthless. We discovered much too late that Arnim Zola was instrumental in developing not only the equipment, but also the techniques and pharmacologies used to create and control the Soldier. Stark suspected Zola stole his preliminary designs for the artificial arm and made his own vile improvements on it over the years.
Steve recalled the crude lab at Krausberg, as well as the computerized Zola-thing he and Natasha discovered in the underground bunker at Camp Lehigh and shuddered. "Do we know who he really is, the man they turned into the Soldier?" If anyone at SHIELD had known, it would be Peggy, and he had to trust that she would tell him the truth.
"It's difficult to believe it was just one man, Steve. The last appearance of the Soldier I am aware of was a few years after I retired from SHIELD. 2009 in Odessa - I believe one of your new friends was guarding his target and nearly lost her life as well. That's a span of nearly sixty years."
"Our best guess was that the Soldier was the male equivalent of the Black Widow program - children raised from near-birth to be ruthless assassins. There must have been at least two generations of them, with perhaps multiple Soldiers active at a single time. Some speculated that the metal arm was a final test of their loyalty. There's so much we just didn't - and I suppose still don't know."
So SHIELD had never discovered the true identity of the Soldier. He felt relieved that at least they hadn't been keeping that secret from him.
"Do I want to know why you're asking, Steve? Does it have something to do with the attack on the Triskelion?"
Steve took a deep breath. "Probably not, and yes." He didn't think he could lie to her face, but the less he said to start with, the better.
"You're going to run off and do something daft, aren't you? I remember that look, Captain Rogers." Her light tone belied the concern in her eyes.
"Afraid so, Peg. But I've got someone watching my back. Sam .. Sam Wilson - I brought him by to meet you last time I visited."
She nodded. "Yes, he seems a capable young man. You've always been at your best with a partner by your side." A distant look suddenly crossed the old woman's face. After a few moments, she said, "Tell Sergeant Barnes I said hello, and to try to stay out of trouble."
Steve nearly choked, covering his reaction with a cough. He couldn't tell if she had confused Sam with Bucky, or if she was a mindreader. Either was equally possible, at this point.
"I will, Peggy. I will."
The Asset entered the small branch library and sat down in front of one of the computers to search for news articles related to Captain America.
So, what is all this Buck Rogers stuff? I thought we were going to check the papers...
The Asset murmured a reply, "These are computers that access the Internet - a vast collection of information, observations, news, opinions and lies. "
Sounds like the Lost City of Pnakotus - but a lot easier to get to. Never mind, I'll introduce you to Lovecraft later. Any luck?
The Asset had located a website that featured grainy photos from a few days previous of a tall, blond, familiar-looking figure leaving a local hospital accompanied by a red-haired woman and a slim, dark man. The Asset recognized them as the Target and the hostiles encountered on the overpass.
His name is Steve... he's not "the Target" for crissake. I don't suppose that internet thing mentions the names of the other two, or anything that would give us a heads-up on where they went?
"Negative." The Asset did not wish to disappoint the voice, but was unable to locate further information on the current location of the Tar.. Steve.
Speaking of names, it's about time we work on that. Since neither of us seem to be going anywhere anytime soon - let's split the difference - I'll be James and you be Barnes, okay? We'll save that god-awful middle name for a fake ID or something. And don't worry about disappointing me, you're doing a hell of a job, all things considered.
The Asset...no... Barnes was not used to compliments. It felt good. As did having James as a companion.
Aw, you're making me blush! Let's head back to the house and call it a day. When's the last time we showered, anyways? I suspect we reek, based on the looks we've been getting from the other folks around here.
They walked back to the safe house (eating a few more goddamn hot dogs along the way) but as soon as Barnes turned on the shower, he was engulfed in a memory of icy water jetting from hoses, rough brushes scratching skin and the harsh smell of disinfectant.
Whoa, whoa - it's okay, buddy, it's okay. They're not here anymore - they can't hurt you. It's just you and me. Take a couple of deep breaths. How about a bath? Think you can handle a bath?
Barnes agreed to a bath. The warm water was soothing to tired muscles, healing wounds and fading bruises. James was appalled by the amount of filth that sluiced off, and insisted in draining and refilling the bath with fresh water after the first round of scrubbing.
Reminds me of coming back to camp after weeks in the field. At least we ain't got lice or fleas. I'm beat. Let's turn in.
There were no nightmares for either of them that night.
Barnes and James kept busy over the next couple weeks. Barnes had created a list of HYDRA locations, mainly supply caches, but also potential targets. One cache had the makings for a fake ID; James suggested "Grant Buchanan", with a birthdate of March 10, 1984. There was money for a laptop and smartphone, with enough left over to travel on for awhile. They both decided that it was time to get some revenge on their former tormentors.
James suspected the car Barnes bought off of Craig-somebody was hot, but HYDRA didn't pick its secret bases based on access to public transportation. The first raid went almost too well; there were no personnel on on site, so blowing the place to kingdom come was easy enough and very satisfying. The second raid ... well ... the less said about that, the better.
Thank God for enhanced healing abilities. Still hurts like a son of a bitch, though.
Barnes agreed, as they holed up in a cheap motel to rethink their plans. While they'd done damage to the base, and swiped additional supplies to boot, they couldn't afford to make mistakes like that again.
How'd you go it alone for all those missions and not get your ass shot off, anyways? Not that you're not incredibly skilled and all, but jeez...
"Usually had a team to assist in insertion and provide backup. Solo missions were scarcer than you'd think - and usually involved sniper work." After some careful research, they selected another target that was on their way back to Washington DC.
But apparently someone else had gotten there first, as the place exploded in flames just as they came over the top of the hill.
Sam high-fived Steve as they surveyed the results of their catastrophic handiwork. Their first raid on a HYDRA base had gone surprisingly well. It looked to have been abandoned for some time, but there were still some pieces of equipment laying around that neither of them wanted to fall into the wrong hands. Nothing quite as elaborate as what Steve had seen in the bank vault, but definitely along the same lines.
They sent the photos of the equipment to Stark, hoping he wouldn't be too upset that the actual items were now in tiny bits, scattered across the tri-state area. Sam took off to do one last aerial scan before they headed back to civilization.
"Heads up, Cap. There's a car coming over the hill off to your right. Probably a local yokel checking out the big boom, but be careful." Steve could hear the wind rushing through Sam's wings over the comm.
"You too - I think it's duck hunting season around here." He meant it as a joke, but still... Steve reached for his binoculars as he ducked behind a nearby bush. He saw the car come to a stop, and a figure got out and stared at the burning buildings. Steve couldn't get a good look at the man's face, but even from a distance, his body language read as a combination of confusion, disappointment and anger. Not what you'd expect from an average lookie-loo.
"Sam - I don't think this guy is from around here. Let me see if I can get behind the car and check the plates." He started moving through the grass in a semi-circle, using all available cover. It wasn't enough. After a brief moment where he had taken his eyes off the other man to check his footing over the uneven ground, Steve looked up to see a rifle pointed right at him.
For god's sake, don't shoot - it's Steve!
The Soldier released the trigger, but kept the weapon focused. The Target was in his sights. It was an unexpected development, but he could finally complete the mission. But a voice, perhaps the Team Lead or Mission Head, was telling him not to shoot. Conflicting orders gave him pause. And then he was being fired on from above.
Stunned, Barnes ducked back into the car, tossing the rifle on the passenger seat while starting the engine, throwing it into reverse and stomping on the gas. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a red stripe down the length of his arm, a bullet graze.
What was that damn fool doing way in the hell out here? And was that his flying pal who shot at us?
Barnes assumed James was asking rhetorical questions again, and focused on getting out of the range of fire and back somewhere safe. Somewhere far away from Steve, for his own sake, and theirs.
"Steve! Are you okay? Report!"
"Yeah, Sam. I'm fine - the guy didn't get off a shot. In fact, he seemed about to put the gun down, right before you started shooting at him." Steve was shaken, not so much by having the rifle aimed at him (note to self: never leave the shield behind ever again!), but by who had been wielding the rifle. "Sam, I think that was Bucky."
"Really?" Sam's reply was carefully noncommittal. Once he landed, he walked up to his friend, putting a hand on his arm. "Could you maybe have been seeing what you wanted to see?"
"I'd know him anywhere, Sam. And it's not so much of a stretch to think that he might be out here, trying to get some revenge on the people who stole his life from him, is it? And that he had no idea it was me, at least at first? " Steve found himself speaking more forcefully than he'd intended.
"Fair enough. Now, how about we get the hell out of here ourselves?"
But instead of heading back to DC, Steve talked Sam into another raid. This location was not deserted; however, there was evidence of a recent firefight and the remaining personnel seemed stunned. The duo focused on disarming and disabling their foes, with the intent of contacting the authorities once the situation was under control.
One of the last thugs they encountered seemed a little unhinged; Sam heard him muttering under his breath "He does exist - the Winter Soldier - I thought he was a tale for the new recruits... something to scare us. He's turned against HYDRA, he swore to rain hellfire down on us..." Sam quickly gagged the man before Steve could hear his babbling. Son of a bitch - Rogers was right. That was Barnes back there, and apparently he was on their side now.