Attention Soldiers of the Fandom Army,
I address you in peace, and beg your mercy. I have been so neglectful in my writing. My magical unicorn of inspiration disappeared and I have only recently recovered it back. Now that my imagination is working again I will be able to post a new chapter in this and my other story once a week.
I actually have missed writing and I am glad to be amongst you again.
Now with out further ado, please enjoy this next chapter.
kiss kiss,
Storybooksage
"Why Seattle?" Elda sat in the seat behind the pilot's seat and pulled her buckle across her lap. "Couldn't you exile me somewhere more convenient, like the north pole?"
"The North Pole is being updated right now." Fury sank into the pilot seat, "Besides, I have a mission for you and the captain to complete in your spare time."
"A mission?" The captain took the seat next to Elda, "Shouldn't she be helping look for her father?"
"Yeah, Fury," Elda joked sarcastically, "I promise not to interfere with your part of the investigation. At least not very often."
"Ahhh now I see why you're sending us to Seattle. Does she do this often?"
"Help herself to my investigations? No, not often. She does however ignore orders."
"I never ignore orders. I only bend the rules a bit."
"I'm guessing those rules resemble carnival funnel cakes when you're done with them."
Elda sent him a sideways grin, "Anyway... Fury, what is our mission?"
"We have received intel on the traffickers," He pressed guided the plane out of the carrier and directed it north, "Several children have gone missing in the last few weeks and have been spotted in this area near the free-way. I want you two to put a stop to it."
"Traffickers?" The captain glanced between the two of them, "Is that what you call those monsters these days?"
"How do you know about these people? They didn't have them in the forties, did they? It has only been known of in the past fifty or so years."
"You wouldn't believe how many children the Nazis had working for them." he clenched his jaw so tightly that the muscles in his neck bulged, "I rescued three girls one time from one of Schmidt's generals. They couldn't have been more that eight years old each. When I fount them they... they thought I was there for..." he shook his head, "No one in civilian life really knew about them. I mean, occasionally a story would circle around about children going missing but nothing to suggest... that. Lot's of children were also used as smugglers, no one would question a child carrying a soggy loaf of bread through the countryside."
"Almost everyone knows now." Fury spoke from his seat, "Nearly one million children are kidnapped or sold into slavery every year. If it weren't for local police and our own Knife, there would be no rescue for these children." he turned the plane to the right and tilted it down. "All of the information is on the Database. I expect to see results within a month."
He landed the plane on the massive back lawn of a large brick house, almost a mansion. The lawn was beautifully manicured and lit by spotlights on the patio where the plane was idling. Elda opened her door and waited for the Director and Captain to join her. She couldn't see much outside the beams of the lights except a eight foot wall surrounding the property quite a distance away. The back porch was well furnished with a barbecue pit, a table, several chairs, and an outdoor shower next to the pool. Fury led the way to the sliding glass door, unlocked it, and held it open for the two younger people.
The lights flickered on revealing a comfortable entertaining kitchen with all stainless steel appliances and fully stocked cupboards. The dining room was visible on the other side of the kitchen with the living room to the side. She accepted the keys that Fury handed to her, "I appreciate the gesture, this house is lovely, but don't you think this is a bit big for two people?" She eyed the marble counter tops and zebra wood floors. "You could have put us up in a smaller and significantly cheaper apartment."
"I don't expect you two to live hear alone for very long, this is the orphanage that we will have in this region for the children who we can't send home." He looked at his watch and nodded to the bewildered young adults, "Please make your selves at home. I'll have some of your clothes sent in the next couple of days, in the mean time there are clothes in the master bedroom, you should be able to find some that fit each of you. Please Agent Wentworth, do not interfere with the S.H.I.E.L.D. investigation." Elda nodded to him, knowing a thinly veiled threat when she heard one, and stifled a laugh at the Captain's salute. Fury turned on his heels and disappeared into the night.
The captain seemed ready to ask questions, but Elda spoke before she would have to not answer any of them, "While I'm sure this house will be delightful to explore, I am exhausted. Good night Captain Rogers. I will see you in the morning." She rushed through the dining room to the stairs.
"Steve."
"Beg pardon?" she paused at the bottom step.
"My name is Steve."
Elda smiled in spite of herself, "Goodnight Steve."
She flopped onto the lower bunk of the first bed she found, not bothering to change into pyjamas and fell into a deep sleep.
"Psst Elda," A soft voice called to her through the fog, "Sweety, you need to wake up." She opened her eyes to see a pretty woman with black hair and green eyes smiled down at her. Her maroon dress whispered as she stepped back from the large bed Elda found herself on. "What has gotten into you the past few days? Where is the mighty warrior I have come to respect?" Elda tried to answer but she was plunged back into the fog and silence.
She sat up quickly, hitting her head on the bunk above her own. Light streamed through the pink curtained window right into her eyes. She stretched and arched her back, no sense in trying to get back to sleep now that the sun was up. She rolled off the bed, blue painted toenails crunching in the new carpet as she took in her surroundings. The room was simple, cream walls with light pink trimmings, two sets of bunk beds with flowered spreads were nailed into adjacent walls opposite the window. The closet was filled with clothes for girls aged between ten and thirteen and a small box at the bottom held several dozen Barbies and their accessories. The desk under the window held all the art supplies that a pre-teen girl would need. The bookshelf beside said window held several dozen series of fantasy books right next to the research books.
Most of the other dozen or so rooms were similar; two sets of bunk beds, a bookshelf, desk, and a closet filled with clothes and toys appropriate for the age of the children intended for that particular room. The rooms were markedly vacant of electronics and only had enough outlets for the lamps. Steve had chosen the room across from her, but he didn't stir when she peaked in. The master bedrooms had their own bathrooms and offices, obviously intended for the adults. The king size bed of one was dressed in a soft green duvet, the walls had green and brown pinstriped wall paper matched by the light brown furniture and fixtures. The bathroom left little to be desired with its white porcelain fixtures, marble counter tops and plethora of soaps, washes and perfumes.
She grabbed a towel from the shelf and turned on the shower behind the opaque glass door. She pulled her messed wig off her head and hung it on the nob of the closet door, she quickly stripped of her clothes and stepped under the lukewarm water. She refused to take hot showers as they were sometimes rare in her line of work. Her fingers kneaded her scalp washing away the thin layer of sweat that had accumulated over the past twenty-four hours. She reached for the conditioner with out looking and picked up one that smelled of cinnamon. Her father always smelled of grease and cinnamon, especially when he used to make her hot chocolate while she studied.
A tear escaped her eye and before she knew it she was curled up in the bottom of the shower silently sobbing into her arms. She cried for her missing father, the only man who had ever lover her unconditionally. He had been willing to do anything for her, but she, in her selfishness and blindness, had run away to S.H.I.E.L.D.., they had faked her death and she never spoke to her daddy again.
She gripped her thigh where a thousand short narrow scars crossed each other. He had found out about them and instead of berating her had held her close and told her that no matter what he would always love her. He had taken her to an opera and later bought her a punching bag and taught her how to take her hurt and anger on inanimate objects. She didn't hurt herself any more. At least she didn't get caught.
She cried for him finding her stash of alcohol and forcing her to dump it down the drain and taking away her credit cards. He had tried to hold her again, tried to have her get help, but she pushed him away and chased him out of the room by throwing a vase at him. She called Fury that night and had him set up her death.
She cried for the mother of pearl casket he had bought for her, even though he was told the fire was too bad for her body to be recovered. The inside had been silk and velvet with a pillow and her favourite stuffed teddy bear and doll to be buried with her.
She cried for his tears that dripped down his cheeks as he placed a red and black rose on her coffin and kissed it whispering about how he wished he had been a better daddy.
She cried for the jewellery box that he had pulled out of his pocket, his grandmother's ring passed down through his family he would have given it to her fiancé had she found one. But now he placed it next to the rose and petted the casket one last time. After everyone had left she, in disguise, had slipped over to the casket and taken the ring. she now wore it on her right middle finger.
She cried for all of the time he had spent alone, nights where he would call for her to watch a movie and realize that she was no longer there and he would spend the rest of the night drinking. He would buy a dress he was sure she would love or a pair of ticket to see an opera she had mentioned but the dress would get left in her room and the opera was unattended.
But mostly she cried for his suffering now. He would refuse to help the enemies of America and they would torture him. He wouldn't heel as quickly as her, he wasn't emotionally indifferent of either but he was strong, he would resist to his dying breath. She cried for the thought of any pain befalling her daddy, it was all her fault.
Eventually she stood back up and scrubbed her face of any tears. The water washed away the swelling in her face and her straightened posture hid any other signs of turmoil. She wrapped a towel around herself and opened the closet which had all the adult clothes. A pair of jeans and green polo shirt fit nicely over the brand new matching bra and panties. She pulled the wig onto her head and straightened it in the mirror. Tucking any escaped locks back into the blonde braid.
She opened the door to the master bedroom and deeply inhaled the smell of apple pancakes and bacon. She bit her lip as she made her way down the stairs and peaked into the kitchen. The breakfast bar was set with two plates and a heaping pile of pancakes stacked on each, bacon and eggs overfilled a plate between the two. The Captain was pulling syrup, butter and berries out of the fridge. He was wearing khaki pants and a appealingly too tight t shirt. His muscles rippled under his clothes as he carried the food to the bar. The coffee machine beeped and he pulled the glass pot off and set it beside the sugar and cream.
"Wow, Captain," Elda stepped into the room grinning up at him, "you must be hungry. That's a lot of food for one man."
He beamed back at her, "Good morning Agent Wentworth." He scooted a chair back and motioned for her to sit, "Please join me for breakfast. And..." he leaned forward seriously, "Please call me Steve."
"Very well, Steve, my name is Elda." she sat and allowed him to push her chair back to the counter. "I trust you slept well?"
"Yes thank you. I slept in the room with the train decorations." his face turned slightly green and he turned away from her as he plopped into his seat and scooped food into his mouth. He didn't speak for the rest of breakfast and Elda didn't try to engage him in conversation.
When they had both eaten their fill and drunken all the coffee Elda stood and scooped the dishes into the sink. She tried to ignore the Captain staring at her but his eyes seemed to burn into her back. "Can I help you with something?"
"If I were you, my father in danger, I would not be nearly as composed as you are." he stood from his seat and stood in front of her, "How do you keep so calm?"
"Believe me, it isn't easy. My father was my best friend and I fear that I may have lost him." She fought the new batch of tears with all her might.
The Captain, Steve, must have noticed her distress, "I lost a dear friend too." His Adams apple pulsed as he swallowed, "If you want to talk..."
"No." she sucked in air. "I appreciate the offer but the sooner we get to work the better."
"How do you address this horrific treatment of children so professionally. When I rescued children from camps It took every ounce of will power to not slaughter every person responsible for their suffering."
"Come with me." she led the way through the French doors to the spacious computer room. "Have a seat." She sat in the swivel chair in front of the keyboard and he sat in the chair to her right. "What I am about to show you is classified to the highest levels." She clicked on several keys, logged into her personal file on the S.H.I.E.L.D. database. "Three years ago I was captured by drug lords, they held me for seven agonizing days. I was brutalized in the worse ways possible but I survived. However that experience turned me into a monster." she opened a video, "This is footage from my last mission in Taiwan. I had instructions to capture only, no fatalities if possible." She played the video taken from the rooftop of a building near where the children were being held. She watched Steve's face as he witnessed her anger, violence, and lack of mercy. She noticed for the first time that she had been shot when entering the room and had lost about four pints of blood on the floor. No wonder she had passed out.
The video finally revealed her branding the madam's hand cruelly and hatefully. She waited with her hands in her lap patiently for him to say something. She expected, even welcomed, criticism, fear, and mistrust. She would not have been surprised if he had called Fury that minute and begged him to move the Captain to a new mission. Instead his eyes widened at her and when he had finally seemed to have control of his open hanging mouth, whispered, "You risked your life to save all those children, you even spared the lives of many of those men. I don't know if I could have had the strength to let them live. You have mercy I have rarely seen in a soldier."
"Mercy?" How could he say that? He had just watched her murder and torture half a dozen people and he spoke of mercy. "There are at least four ways I could have let them live."
"Despite having to kill those people, in self defence, you allowed more of them to live than deserved it. They shot you." He smiled at her, "You may not believe it, but you are a good woman."
Her breath hitched in her throat and she stared at her hands in her lap for a long while before slowly allowing oxygen into her lungs. "Thank you, Steve." she blushed slightly, "Enough about me. Lets try to save more children." She turned away from him and began typing into her computer.
Author's Note
Oooooohhh It seems our heroine is attracted to the handsome Captain. But does he return her attraction or is she pining after a lost cause? You review and I'll write the next chapter. Just kidding I'm almost done with the next chapter, I'll post it next week.
Lots of love,
Storybooksage