At a Buddhist temple in Kyoto, Japan, Chenault sat in the prayer centre silently, her legs crossed and her hands resting softly on her knees. It was raining loudly outside, like it often did in Japan in the Spring. This morning she was all by herself in the room, most of the monks slept until nine and it was only around six currently. She'd been meditating since she awoke from a night terror around four, she came to the prayer room to get her mind from it.
As she drifted slowly into another state Chenault felt herself breathing heavily but evenly, as if she were heading into a dream. She could not stop her mind from drifting off into her unconscious state instead of her steady consciousness. She began to enter her dream from the previous night again.
She couldn't see much, it was dawn and she could feel a strong wind in her face and she could smell a strong musky scent of gunpowder and pine. All around her were tall trees, in front of her was a long and twisting dirt road. She was on a motorcycle, clad in denim, a leather jacket, scarf, and beret, as well as standard goggles given to foot soldiers on bikes during the second World War. She was a foot soldier.
Chenault suddenly heard gunshots around her and she veered off the road with strict accuracy and parked her bike, hiding it and herself behind a tree. She watched four men in gas masks trek through the road up to a camp over the hill. Chenault covered her bike with branches and leaves and followed as close as she could.
She hovered by the gate and waited until a man walked out. She silently held a gun to his head and made him lead her to their general. They entered a tent in the middle of the camp a few moments later and when they were completely alone, the man suddenly pulled his gas mask over his face and dashed out. Chenault looked around at the clouds of yellow smoke and quickly wrapped a bandana around her face and pulled her goggles on. She ran out after the man and stumbled over her own two feet as she became over-come with the mustard gas. Several men grabbed Chenault's arms and she struggled against them before she jolted suddenly out of her unconscious state.
She breathed heavily and fell to the ground, heaving and coughing and nearly crying. She looked around and noticed she was still alone in the prayer room. Before long there would be several others joining her.
Chenault sighed and stood, a headache forming quickly telling her that was enough meditation for the day.
An old, wrinkled monk rushed out of a large temple to a helicopter that had landed in an open field in Kyoto. Nick Fury and several agents stepped out and walked toward the monk as he gestured for them to hurry. Inside the temple the group rushed past prayer rooms, study rooms, and eating rooms back to a very small room in bunking. A maid sat with a young woman's head in her lap, circling a burning Occa leaf around her.
The monk began speaking in soft Japanese and one of the agents translated.
"We found your information in her bag, she's been residential here for three weeks, she woke yesterday with malnutrition, a fever, and seizures caused by severe cranium pain. Nothing we have done has helped her." He translated and Fury looked down at the girl, Chenault Caput-Yvon. He sighed and ordered the men to take her to the helicopter.
"Thank you for calling us, it's greatly appreciated." Fury told the monk with biting annoyance. The monk bowed to him and turned. The maid handed Fury Chenault's bag before he sighed his way back to the helicopter.
"She's stabilized now, sir." Dr. Rolling said, meeting Fury outside the hospital room. "She awoke momentarily though."
"How bad was it?"
"Well, she broke one of the nurses arms and emotionally damaged another. She's out now, I gave her a heavy amount of sedatives."
"How much?"
"Enough to put Banner out for a week."
"Good, how long do you think it'll hold her for?"
"Hard to say, it could from several days to several hours." Dr. Rolling laughed nasally, "Going by how she responded to the first dose of sedatives we'll be lucky if she's out for more that twenty minutes."
Fury sighed, "I want her monitored at all times, we need to keep the sharpest eye possible on her. She wakes up though, to find herself still strapped to a bed connected to tubes, and son, you won't want to be the one in that room."
Chenault felt weighted when she had first gained consciousness, her eyes too weak to open. Her head ached with a wiry sting, similar to her previous mental exertions that had led her to hospital beds. But if she remembered correctly she had been in Kyoto and Kyoto hospitals did not smell of disinfectant.
When she opened her eyes she saw faint blurs of objects before her pupils rationed their size and she could see she was alone in a hospital room, though private and well furnished with the latest in medicinal manufacture. It was then she figured she was under the protection and surveillance of SHIELD.
With a sigh Chenault attempted to sit up but was unfortunately halted by straps around her arms. At least they took precaution this time, she thought listlessly, a scowl upon her forehead.
Looking around the room she saw a reading lamp looming over head, a tray with a cup of water sitting at the far right corner closest to Chenault's hand, though she was not able to reach unless she stretched.
Her legs were not bound, for which she would use to her advantage. At the edge of her bed sat a metal clipboard she could grasp with her toes.
It was like they were making it too easy for her.
With a swift calculation and a swifter flick of the ankle the clip board flew up and knocked the reading lamp from it's extension rod and fell onto her lap.
She grabbed the cup of water slowly, careful not to spill and breathed in.
Since the binds on her wrists were electrically powered and most likely designed by a SHIELD technician she should be able to deactivate the system with a slight electrical shock. So then without hesitation she flipped the cups contents onto one cuff while simultaneously breaking the light bulb over the other, she heard a faint power-down and a click and she was then freed.
Quickly Chenault jumped from the bed and out the door in search of her belongings.
Rounding a corner she caught sight of Tony Stark and Bruce Banner through the window of a lab. She spied closer and noticed that her knapsack was on one of the tables. What was peculiar though was that it seemed to look completely empty. Chenault knew better than to fall for that trick.
She turned back around and ran straight into a tall woman.
"Oh hello."
Without a word Chenault dashed back down the hallway and hid inside a broom cupboard.
She caught her breath and peaked back out, her eyes straining under a newly forming headache. But the hall was then clear and she ran to the nearest exit.
The altitude was significantly lower than she expected, so low in fact that she felt confident in rushing out the door with the sound of alarms behind her.
As she ran through the surface of the ship she was suddenly pulled to a stop and into the arms of a man in red.
"Got 'er, sir." Steve Rogers said and Chenault saw a very cross looking Nick Fury in an air mask. She wondered momentarily why he bothered wearing one.
"Do you think we're stupid, girl?" He said walking up to them.
"Our history is not on your side, Fury." She said as she wiggled in Steve's arms and finally wiggled herself to the ground and shot off toward the edge. Predicting on where the sun was she figured it was around three, and then at that she smiled. "Hey!"
"I'll catch you soon, Fury. Thanks for all your help." And then she jumped, Fury and Steve rushed to the edge and tried to see her through the mist of the engines but after thirty feet they had lost sight of her.
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