A/N: Longest chapter to date! 3,500 words of mission! Also, I would just like to tell you I have posted an image of Daphne/Silverthorn on deviantart, so if you're curious as to what she looks like, just search Ec1aire on deviantart, and it'll be amongst the most recent images in my gallery.

Big thanks to: ashley.k92, Ciarle, Captain Murica 2002, CheekyLittleFoxy, Elitehope21 and 2000Aerobars for following/favouriting :)

Review Response(s):

2000Aerobars: I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it, and, no, I don't think I could fight my best friend either. It's not like they had much of a choice, though.

Guest: Less than an hour later... Soon enough for you? ;)

5 - Target: U.S. President

When I opened my eyes, everything was bleary for a moment.

Where was I?

I looked around me, seeing grey, tiled walls. I was sat in a chair made of metal, with lots of different tools around me. It looked familiar, and the unbidden sensation of fear that filled me told me that I should probably get out of there immediately.

As soon as I was standing - um, where were the rest of my clothes? (I was wearing a thick bra and a pair of black, leather leggings of some sort) - a man in a thick, fur coat and what I think was called a ushanka walked in. He was carrying a rifle in one hand, and a pair of blades in the other.

"Успокойся, солдат." His words were harsh and guttural, but a part of my mind was easily able to translate them. Calm down, soldier.

"I am not the soldier," I answered in the same tongue. The words came without forethought, but they seemed right. No, Soldier was the name of my... I don't know. What was he? A friend? An ally? A companion? An enemy? I winced as a sharp pang of pain hit my head. A memory, trying to push through the mental blockade that had been put there. No matter. I would remember eventually, of that I was certain. All my other memories seemed insignificant... The Soldier, though... He was important somehow.

"No, you are the thorn of silver," the man answered, before passing me the two blades. I took them, the soft leather around the hilts feeling familiar, and then placed them in their holdings on each leg. "The Winter Soldier is on his way."

I blinked, and then let out a slight cry of pain as a hole appeared in my mental wall, and memories of a man with brown hair and a metal arm came to my head. Memories of a dark room, where a faceless man spoke to me and visited me every night for weeks. Shadow.

I remembered him, just like I knew I would. He was my friend. My best friend. He and I were partners - we fought alongside each other. But, no, there was another, right? From a long time ago. My best friend...

I didn't realise I had started clutching my head, trying to sort through such confused 'memories', until the hatted man hit me with the butt of his rifle. I slowly stood, facing him with cold eyes. I couldn't show him I was still human inside. Instinctively I knew that would lead to pain.

I looked down at the man - wait, I was taller than him? Then I remembered I was enhanced. Stronger. Faster. Taller. Generally better than ordinary humans. "Do you have a mission for us?" I asked him. He was my superior, right? He certainly acted that way.

"Yes, I do. I will divulge the details as soon as the Soldier arrives."

I nodded. I knew the details would mean an image of a face, a threat level, and a time in which the mission had to be carried out. We were given no name to match the face, nor were we given a reason for their death. We asked no questions, and were given the bare minimum. This was familiar.

The door opened then, and in stepped the Winter Soldier. He was fully armoured, and in one hand was a set of leather clothes. My clothes. He tossed them to me, and I started to put them on while the man in the hat told us of our mission.

"You are to go to America," he said, pulling a picture out of his pocket and handing it to the Soldier. He stared at the image, nodded, and then put it away in his pocket. I knew he would show it to me later. "There is a man there who must die within the next three days. Level 4; he himself will not be much threat, but he is heavily guarded." We both nodded. I pulled on a thick coat over my armoured clothes. I then untucked my long, blonde hair out from underneath the coat. "You will be escorted to Texas, where your target is currently stationed, but from there you will be on your own. Any questions?"

"Do we have permission to kill anyone who gets in our way?" I asked. We usually did, but sometimes killing others got us into trouble, so I felt like I had to get that specified.

"Anyone," the man said with a nod. The Winter Soldier and I both nodded, and with the meeting completed we were led out to where a small plane was waiting. There was a cold wind and thick snow was falling all around us. I still didn't know where we were, but I knew better than to ask.

When we were both seated, the Winter Soldier glanced at me. "Silver," he said in a different language, one I recognised far more easily than the other one. This was my first language, I was sure.

"Shadow," I said in return. This was something we did to assure the other we remembered them. He would call me Silverthorn in front of our superiors (and if he didn't remember me), but otherwise I was just Silver. And likewise with him - I only called him Shadow when there was no threat of being overheard. "Can I see the picture?"

He pulled said picture out of his pocket and passed it to me. The image was of poor quality, but it was at least in colour. A white man with light brown hair, wearing a suit, so clearly someone of importance (although the fact he would be 'heavily guarded' was something of a give-away).

"Do you know who he is?" the Winter Soldier asked me, his brow slightly furrowed.

I shook my head. "No, but he does look slightly familiar."

"Yes, I thought so too." He sighed. "I guess it doesn't matter in the end."

"And you're sure he's going to come around this way?" I asked, sitting beside the Winter Soldier as we both prepped and cleaned our guns. We were in a tall building which overlooked some kind of plaza. While the Winter Soldier had been looking for information about our target's whereabouts, I had been disposing of some of the men we knew for certain were part of his primary guard. With those men gone, the ones guarding him would be less trained in defending him and keeping an eye out for threats.

The Winter Soldier rolled his eyes at me. "You know, I don't appreciate your doubt in my skills," he said, and while I knew the words were true, I could also detect the minor amusement in his tone. "Yes, he is definitely coming this way."

"Public execution is a new one for me," I said, placing six bullets into my gun. "So," I said at length, putting my now loaded and cleaned gun beside me. "Where do you want me to go?"

"I'll be in this building, on the top floor," he said. "I'm a better shot than you, however if, for whatever reason, I miss, I want you to be stationed and ready behind the grass patch just down the road."

I glanced out the window, saw the spot he indicated, and nodded. "There's decent cover there - there's are trees that I can hide behind, and the fence is useful as well."

"Just be careful," the Winter Soldier said seriously. "You'll be in an open area. Don't get seen."

I scoffed. "Please," I said indignantly. "If I couldn't hide myself from a few dim-witted civilians, I wouldn't be out here. Besides, they'll be too busy focusing on the cars." I shook my head. "God, I can't believe they want us to kill the President. What threat could he possibly pose to Hydra?"

"He's arguably the biggest single powerhouse in the world," the Winter Soldier said calmly, putting his gun next to mine and standing up, then moving over to the open window. He sat himself down on said window, lifting his leg up so he could rest his arm on his knee. "His ideals are direct opposites of Hydra's, however there are other powerful men who either share the same way of thinking, or are already a part of Hydra, and so would be beneficial to Hydra if they were in positions of more power."

"Yes, but Hydra are nowhere near ready to reveal themselves. What's the point in killing him now when Hydra can't in turn then do something productive? It doesn't make any sense."

The Winter Soldier sighed. "I don't know, Silver," he said lowly. "Trust me, I'd like to know their reasons for doing this as well, but our job is simply to do their dirty work, no questions asked. And you know what happens if we don't."

"We both get hurt," I answered solemnly. "And we're both forced to watch."

"Exactly. And as much as I don't want to be a puppet of Hydra, I'd much rather do that than watch as you're tortured to within a few inches of your life."

I smiled sadly at him, and nodded in agreement. I glanced out the window again and saw people were beginning to flock along the roadside. "I ought to go," I said, crouching down to pick up my gun. I turned to leave, but then spun around and said, "Don't miss. Like you said; you're a better shot than me, so if you miss then chances are I will as well."

He chuckled and said, "If worse comes to worst, I'm sure you can spare a throwing knife or two, yes?"

I smirked. "I suppose if I were to lose knives to anyone, the President of America would be a good candidate." I then turned and left, shaking my head slightly as I went.

The area I was in was full of cars, but not many people. No, the people were all stood on the grass in front of the fence, while I was hiding behind it, waiting in the shadows. There was a buzz of excitement from the crowd that suddenly grew louder, and I knew that to mean our target had come into sight.

I waited a few moments, listening with keen ears.

There!

A shot, one which would be difficult to hear for ordinary ears, echoed over the plaza. I used that chance to grab my gun and position it over the top of the fence. The President was clearly still alive, but he was holding onto his neck. It was a good shot, but not fatal. I quickly aimed and fired my gun, just as another shot came from the building above me. I don't know who offered the killing shot, but with the way the President's head exploded (I've seen a few gruesome deaths, but that was just disgusting) it didn't really matter. The man was dead, without a doubt.

After briefly checking that no one was close by, I grabbed my gun and darted towards the back of the Texas Book Depository, where I knew the Winter Soldier would be waiting. As soon as I was by his side he grabbed my hand with his flesh one and started pulling me away, both of us sprinting as fast as we could. It wasn't unusual for us to make a quick escape, however with such an important target it was doubly important that we got the heck out of there as fast as we could.

We managed to get a mile away from the scene within two minutes, making sure to stay out of sight as much as possible. We paused to catch our breaths, although neither of us were particularly tired.

"Where are we?" I asked after a minute of silence.

"River Street," he answered quickly.

"How close is that to Reverchon Park?" The park was our meeting place with one of Hydra's Texan contacts, who had agreed to take us to the airport, where the plane was waiting to take us back to wherever it was we were before we left.

"A mile or so," he said calmly.

I frowned, looking at him. "And when did you suddenly become so knowledgeable about Dallas?"

He smirked, then said, "You think I didn't plan an escape route? I knew you would never think to do so, so I did it for you."

I stared at him for a few seconds, then rolled my eyes. "In my defence, you've been at this since the 40s."

"I was in cryo-freeze for most of that," he pointed out. "You have yet to be frozen, am I right?"

"Well, you're not wrong," I murmured. "Though I have a feeling that's going to change after this mission. I've reached what Hydra like to call my 'peak physical age', which means you and I will be frozen together this time, I think."

"How old are you now?"

I shrugged. "I don't know what year it is," I said vaguely as we dumped our guns in a bush for someone to find later (you were rather conspicuous walking down a street with a large rifle strapped to your back (I was glad I'd decided to leave my blades on the plane)).

"It's November 1963," he supplied as he offered his metal arm to me. It was a technique we'd established to keep his rather obvious metal limb from view - he would wear long sleeves to hide most of it, and then I would hold his hand and walk close to him to hide the rest. I never told him I really loved this more intimate side of our partnership - and why would I? No doubt it would ruin it completely.

I pondered for a few seconds, then told him, "That would make me 27." I then frowned. "Why do you know this and I don't?" I asked, frowning.

He smirked at me. "I'm proactive," he stated in a teasing tone. "As soon as we arrived in Texas, I looked up the date. I like to know where I am, when I am and, if possible, who I'm killing."

"So do I," I said. "Apparently I just do it more slowly."

"Either that or we have different priorities."

I chuckled. "It's probably a bit of both," I said as we crossed the road. The streets were busy, but there was that anxious chatter that told us the news of the President's death had already reached this area.

We made the rest of the walk in silence, meandering through the crowded streets, trying not to draw attention to ourselves. A few times I thought I saw someone giving us a narrowed-eyed look, but didn't have time to look back and check before either we or they were swallowed up by the crowd.

The polished red car that we knew to be our ride was waiting for us on the western border of the park. We wordlessly got into the back, and the man behind the wheel wordlessly started the car and drove towards the airport.

The whole drive - short though it was - was silent, and when we arrived at the airport there wasn't so much as a 'goodbye' or a 'thank you'. The Winter Soldier and I had appearances to uphold. It wasn't just us anymore. We had to go back to being stone-faced, cold, and quiet.

The plane was different to the one we'd flown over in. It was bigger. The reason for this became apparent when we entered, finding there were four people inside. One was the man with the ushanka, another was a man who had grey hair and looked very familiar, a third was a young blonde male, and the fourth was a woman with pristine red nails, red lips, and black hair. She was extremely beautiful, although her eyes were cold and there was a sinister smile on her lips.

"Ah, there you are," the grey haired man said with a smile. "We've already heard the news. I must say it was quite daring to not only eliminate the target in broad daylight, but also with a large crowd nearby. Daring, but undoubtedly impressive."

We stared at him, not saying a word.

"Who was it that killed him?" the woman asked, her smile turning into more of a smirk.

Knowing the Winter Soldier didn't like to speak to these sorts of people, I answered instead. "It's difficult to tell; we both fired shots at the same time."

"Well, either way, it was tremendously dramatic," she said with a white-toothed grin.

"You do not remember who I am, do you?" the grey haired man asked.

I shook my head, but then was surprised when the Winter Soldier spoke, his voice lower than usual. It sounded appropriately dangerous. "You are Christopher Pierce. You served in the 101st during the war. You also were the one to choose Silverthorn for training."

I looked at the man, but even with the information the Winter Soldier provided I couldn't remember him beyond the vague tickling in the back of my head which showed some kind of recognition.

The man now to be known as Pierce raised an eyebrow. "Interesting," he murmured, before turning to me. "But you remember nothing?" I shook my head, brows furrowed slightly.

"Well," the young man said with a crooked smile, "this is quite intriguing." I glanced at him, frowning deeply when almost instantly there were loud alarm bells ringing in my head. "You are quick and efficient, it seems. How long were you given? Three days?"

The Soldier and I nodded.

"And yet it was completed in just over a day," the woman said, sounding impressed. I still hadn't taken my eyes off the blonde man. I knew him. I knew I knew him. If only I could remember why. It might explain why the very sight of him made me want to dig my blades into his throat.

It took a few minutes, during which time I completely tuned out the conversation going on around me, but then when the man met my eyes the memory snapped into place. I let out a loud cry, clutching my head and sinking to my knees as the knowledge surged forth.

Alexander Pierce. Son of Christopher Pierce. The boy I'd first seen in the Hydra facility in America. Future S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent and future councilman. The man who would order the death of Director Nicholas J. Fury. The man who would cause the deaths of so many honest men and women.

By the time the tidal wave of memories (and the hatred and anger that accompanied them) had settled and I once again became aware of my surroundings, the plane had fallen silent. All eyes were on me.

"What do you remember?" the man in the hat asked, his accent thick.

I slowly staggered to my feet, staring at the young man again, who was looking at me with a curious but slightly condescending expression. "You're Alexander Pierce. I met you once, eleven years ago. You..." I winced, rubbing my head. "You were with your father. I was..." I frowned. The next bit was hazy. "There was someone else," I muttered. "I had a sparring match with them."

"Yes, and you won," the older Pierce said. "Quite quickly too."

"Who did I fight?" I asked.

He hesitated, before saying, "Her name was Dremora." I winced as the name sent a pang of pain through both my head and my heart. "She died not long after she arrived. Didn't survive the serum."

This all sounded so familiar, and the simmering fury in my heart was familiar too. Why? What had happened? Who was she?

"With all due respect," the woman drawled, carelessly picking at one of her immaculate nails, "I think it is time we got down to business."

"Yes, of course," the hatted man said with his heavy accent. "The Winter Soldier is to go back to Russia with me," he said - so that's where we were originally stationed - before glancing at me. "Silverthorn is to go with Miss Cartwright to San Francisco. Miss Cartwright will be teaching her a new tactic for your skills."

"Yes, indeed," Miss Cartwright said with a smile. "My task is to teach you how to utilise your feminine side," she said, winking at me, while I simply raised an eyebrow in response. "Don't worry, honey, you'll be back with your Soldier before next summer."

I almost retorted that he wasn't my Soldier, but knew that that would most likely only provoke punishment, so I kept my mouth shut, nodded my head, and then finally sat myself down as the pilot announced we were about to take off.