Doomed
So now we have to deal with two criminal organizations. Twice the amount of missions and destruction. If I don't get a full night's sleep soon I will lose what's left of my sanity. And it's only been two months since my arrival. Most have been here for almost a year and look at them. I leave the tent. Jackie stops me just outside the mess hall. She asks how a child was accepted into the military. "I'm not entirely sure," I answer. "I think because of my powers. You might want to check my file." It's something I don't understand. I should ask Steve why I'm not allowed to read my own file. It can't be that bad. The only thing that stands out is the…events at the orphanage. A bit on the small side, underweight. All replaced with what feels like muscle.
Anyway, I drop off my rifle at weapons and head for dinner. A.I.M. is the buzz throughout. Toro thought it important to spread the word. At first all is fine, but then someone says only those with powers or-in Steve's case-special abilities will be extracting revenge. That does not sit well with the others. Everybody's been itching for payback, and their first chance in a long time, they can't. Dirty looks are shot my way all evening. My team too, but mostly me. Don't tell me there's still prejudice.
Sick of it, I leave the hall and go to my bunker. At least here it's quiet. I read the briefing, study the pictures. Find out as much as I can about A.I.M. Stare at the empty beds. While everybody is out roaming the streets of the nearest city, I lay on my bed, alternating between my notebook and Bucky's empty bed. Nothing remains. His clothes have been donated; any personal items went to his family or Steve. Hard to believe he's really gone. And that it's all my fault. If I hadn't taken so long, or destroyed the controls… Agh!
After my outburst I cry myself to sleep. Time passes quickly during my individual missions. Weeks after the assignments, Steve pulls me aside during showers. He tells me to put on my nicest clothing. Then he goes to an empty shower. Does that mean anything? I go to an empty stall and take off the SSR shirt and camouflage pants and take a quick shower. When I finish I go back to the 107 building and find my nicest dress. Given as a condolence gift from Bucky's family. The spring green fabric was meant to complement my features. I tie my hair back with a green ribbon. Search for the red heels Agent Carter gave me several weeks ago. Don't know why. Despite the pretty clothes, I still look depressed. Ever since Bucky departed Steve has grown more distant. I have too, I suppose. Those fatherly actions had to mean something. Now I'll never have the chance to figure out what.
I leave to give Steve some time to change. Soldiers run about in street clothes. Tonight is the first night in ages we're allowed in town without permission. Of course people are taking advantage of it. I planned on staying, enjoying the peace and quiet. Nary a ride anyway. I pause at the worn dirt path that surrounds camp. Still used for speed and endurance lessons, it makes a loop several paces away from a thin tree line. Dust billows around my feet with every step. Small particles settle on my shoes. A bird, a raven, I believe, lands on my shoulder. I stroke its feathers.
"Hi, Nikki." Steve's voice scares the bird away. When I turn around, "You look nice." He's wearing a button-down shirt and dress pants.
"And you as well." My voice sounds weary. Whatever he plans on doing, it better be worth it.
"Listen, we're going out, and we would like you to come with us. Please?"
I really have no intention of leaving, but Steve is taking Bucky's absence hard. Harder than me. Refusing would hurt him even more. "I will," I say after a pause. "Lead the way." I am lead to a group of soldiers dressed in their finest. We all pile into military vehicles. Upon our arrival some head straight for a pub. I stay with those who decide to sightsee. Jackie desperately tries to make me laugh. Eventually it works. Her crazy and lighthearted personality is infectious. Everywhere we go citizens salute us; soon she has me saluting back. Giggling like a little girl too. In a bakery I make her laugh so hard she knocks over a bread stand. As we duck to pick them up Jackie raises her eyebrows, impersonating Namor. I collapse, I'm laughing so much. And to think I wanted to stay at home.
However inviting the streets of Italy may be, we still have to go to the pub. Being July 12, most bars have independence-themed deals going on. The candles are dimmed upon our arrival. Before I can ask what's going on, a large cake is brought out. Nine candles burn brightly. Purple icing spells out Happy Birthday Nicolette! The rest of it resembles an American flag. Why did they do this?
Choruses of the Happy Birthday song ring about. "Congratulations," Steve smiles, holding up the cake so I can blow out the candles.
I do so to applause. I cut it and pass around pieces. How did I forget my own birthday? Come of it, if I wasn't in the army, I wouldn't remember the Fourth of July either. For the longest time all I've focused on are my missions. Since I'm more powerful than some of the others Phillips gave me harder ones. No time left to think of trivial things like special events. It does a mighty fine job of cheering me up though. As the night wears on we become wilder. Drunken singing rings through the building. Dancing, too. I take a sip of my drink. It doesn't taste like water. I glance down. Ah, that makes sense. The liquid isn't the slightly diluted water I was drinking before; it's the brownish-red of Italian wine. That's all I need to lose whatever common sense remains. The owner eventually throws us out the door. Military or not, we must go home. We stumble to the cars and hope the drivers aren't too intoxicated. Peggy does her best to lead us to the correct bunker, but she gives up after awhile. I end up sleeping on the floor of the 102.
The next day our normal schedule restarts. Week after week it's the same thing: destroy HYDRA and A.I.M. and Nazi bases. Not boring, mind you, just annoying. Finally, many weeks after my birthday, Phillips calls Toro, Steve, and I down to meet him. He explains we have to stop a HYDRA nuclear missile from being launched on America. The Human Torch and Spitfire are taking care of other leads. Cap, Toro, and I will work on the missile.
"You get me?" Phillips finishes.
"Yes sir!" we answer in unison.
"We're doomed," Toro adds in a whisper after we turn around to leave. His face falls.
"Come on. Have some faith in our team." I try to cheer him up. There is a valid reason behind his lack of optimism. He is an orphan too, but not by abandonment. His parents were spies, sent to Hitler by the SSR. Sent to keep tabs on the future Red Skull. They gave valuable information, but eventually they were discovered. Even the army couldn't reach them in time. Doctor Erskine was beginning to recruit a team for the newly created Human Torch, and the grief stricken, super powered Toro seemed a perfect match. They got hold of Union Jack, convinced Namor, and discovered Whizzer and Miss America. And so the Invaders were born. Cap and Bucky joined shortly before Union Jack died. Not even a year later I came along. The awe-inspiring Freedom Fighter.
Toro ignores my comment. He's too upset to think positively right now. Maybe later. I leave for the barracks to change into my costume, everything but the cowl. Then I go to weapons and grab my pistols. Hopefully I won't have to use them. I joke around with the Commandos for a bit. We enter the plane laughing. All tension disappears, at least for the ride. But as Steve pulls on a parachute, it returns. Dread. The fear that we may never return. It's valid. The Red Skull is more powerful than ever. Only Steve is allowed to take him on. Like that's going to stop me. I plan on fighting during my final breath if that's what it takes. If I go down, I go down swinging.
A noticeable shudder runs through the Commandos. We're about to jump. "Good luck," Falsworth tells us. "You'll need it." His words ring true, but they're not meant to comfort. They're meant to help us face reality.
We jump. Wind blows through my hair, under my cowl, making my ponytail billow out behind me. Toro bursts into flame. Steve pulls the string on his parachute. I surround myself with a layer of energy that lets me float gently to the ground. Toro flies right in. I pause for a moment, watching our last chance to escape fly away. Then I rush to catch up. Inside the base Steve goes one direction, fueled by a fierce determination. I run another. Toro stays in the air. Surprisingly not many agents roam the hallways. Sometimes I have to flatten myself into the shadows, but that's about it. Odd.
That can't be said about farther in. agents stand everywhere. A few almost catch me. Pressed against a wall, I try to think of something to help me. Come on, Nikki, think. What might work? My heart beats faster with fear. Don't get scared. Think of everything. It can be anything, as long as it works. There has to be something… Wait! Would this… I dig around in a pouch on my right arm, pulling out four small suction cups. While preparing for the mission I saw them lying there and grabbed them. Intended for a replica of my latest invention. Perhaps it was fate that gave them to me today. Anyway, I pull out a small canteen of water and a keg of gunpowder. Carefully I sprinkle some powder in the cups. Same with the water. The result: a sticky mush capable of supporting a body.
I hope this works. Slowly I stick them to my boots and gloves; climb up the wall at the same speed. Inch by inch, quickening as I get used to it. It works! I can't believe it actually works! Three cheers to Nicolette, the future world-class inventor! Sneaking past the agents is no problem. Like sneaking in to read my file at the orphanage. Boy, have I come a long way since then. Before I was living on the streets, just discovering my supernatural abilities. Terrified that no one would ever want me. Then Steve came, recruited me. Him and Bucky are the closest thing I have to a family. Bucky acting as a father, Steve as a kindly older brother. And now that Bucky is gone, all that disappeared. Now it's just Steve. Toro has been a great friend, but he can't replace Bucky. No one can.
"-the Americans."
The Americans? Spoken by a creepy voice? Can't be good.
His fellow agent nods. "Captain America is invading our weapons labs. Toro is staying out of our range. How infuriating."
"What about the girl?"
"Ah, yes. The 'Freedom Fighter.' Her whereabouts are unknown."
If only I could tell them how wrong they are! I almost do. But their conversation bores me, even though it pertains to us. So I move on. Eventually the water dries and I have to jump down before I fall. I land in front of an opening showing a huge weapons area. This must be what the agents were talking about. From where I stand, I can see Steve fighting off hordes of agents. He's doing fine, so I move on. I find a room filled with shelves lined with books. Sort of like a library, I guess. It has to be filled with important information. Definitely worth a look.
I was right! Paging through a randomly selected volume, I discover it's filled with detailed diagrams. Most are of something labeled as "The Tessaract." Whatever it is, it can't be beneficial. I've seen pictures during briefings, and from what I understand, it's a weapon of the gods. Norse gods, to be exact. Hopefully Steve or Toro will manage to find the Tessaract and destroy it. Me? I have my sights set on the Red Skull.
Though the library holds a wealth of knowledge, I leave. But not before stuffing a few diagrams in a pouch. They might come in handy later. After perusing the base for a bi, a HYDRA henchman comes running past clutching a small blue cube. It matches the drawings on the papers I "borrowed." That can only mean one thing: they're readying the missile! We're not ready to destroy it yet! Steve is mobbed; Toro kept busy by turrets and any outside troopers. I'm the only person available. They may not approve, but in the end, it will be overshadowed by our accomplishment. No harm done. So I bolt after my target. He has a minute's head start, and I'm not very fast. Hopefully I can catch up to him.
Throughout the castle alarms are ringing. Creeper after creeper run past. Some are like the flamethrower agent from the train. Others sport cannons brimming with blue energy. And yet more carry tanks filled with green liquid. When a more powerful one stomps past I try to take them out. The most effective way is to create a dome around their heads. If done correctly it will cut off their air supply. I keep chasing the Tessaract carrier. He sprints to a huge landing area. I follow him onto a plane that's more advanced than anything I've ever seen before. For a few seconds I stare in amazement. A sense of shock pours into my mind, making me focus. The Tessaract is my target.
"Kerr Amriqi!" he shouts.
"Sorry, pal. I don't speak English," I quip, breathing heavily. Flashbacks to my first mission almost distract me. I almost died on that mission. If I were superstitious I would call it I would call it a bad omen. But I'm not.
Mr. Cube, as I mentally christened him, pulls out a gun. He says something in German again while shooting. With great difficulty I jump and dive to avoid getting hit. Panting, I stand up and pull out a pistol. Then I shoot his shoulder. After a quick roundhouse to the head, Mr. Cube collapses near the plane's exit. I kick him to the ground. He falls to the pavement in a heap. Now that my current worry is gone, I have time to explore. Clutching my hip to relieve the side sticker, still panting, I open a metal door and widen my eyes.
Futuristic machines are everywhere. Some glow and flash pale blue light, others emit beeping noises. One that seems to be half-finished hums. A compartment connected to the end has a small indentation large enough for a small cube. The Tesseract? I hope not. Moving on, I go into a different room that looks like the bridge. A very high-tech gun looms in the corner, threatening to shoot anyone unwanted. On the far wall, just above a desk, a huge painting hangs. In the dark I can't see much, but what I can makes me do a double take. Bright red where the head should be indicates it's the Red Skull. Wow. How can anybody be that self-obsessed? Almost as bad as the one senator who first tried to promote Steve. Going closer to the floor-to-ceiling windows, I sit down at his desk and start filing through orderly drawers. Anything of importance I try to commit to memory. I'm doing fine until footsteps echo across the room. Whipping my head frantically searching for a hiding spot, I see nothing. Everything is too thin, too small. With no time to lose, I run to an arch. I boost myself to the ceiling and hang on like my life depends on it. It does.
Before I finish climbing, Red Skull enters. His face is twice as red as usual. He's muttering to himself, something about invasion. I flash back to Bucky for a minute. Whenever he got angry, he would act the same way. Tears well in my eyes. I blink them away before they can fall. No emotions at all. I grasp the beam a bit tighter and tune in.
"The Americans will pay for this with their lives," he murmurs. "No one will foil my plan. The missile will fall New York, and then, the world!" An evil laugh escapes his lips. Shmidt stares at his portrait for a few seconds, then walks to his desk. He's about to sit down when he pauses. Squinting, he plucks something of his chair. What could it be? Whatever it is, he sets the invisible object on the desk and paces the room, his head turned upward. When he's a few feet away from my arch I breathe louder. The opposite of what I should do. I end up holding my breath to stay quiet. Peering up, he almost spots me pressing myself into the shadows. I pull my hair behind me. My hands start to slip and my fingers loosen. I'm slowly sliding off. Finally my fingers unclench, and I begin to fall.
At the very moment I slip taps against the metal door draw Shmidt's attention away from me. His back is turned when I become visible. Panicking, I manage to twist a hand and create and airborne net. The net itself makes no noise, but a small whimper escapes my lips. The Skull's head turns, and I cover my mouth with a hand. Must stay silent! One more slip and I'm dead. This spot is no good; my hands are shaking too much to hold on. Quickly and quietly I lower myself to the floor. Then I run to the desk. Holding my knees to my chest, I watch two HYDRA agents drag a third man in. Who could it be?
"Captain. I know you and your 'Invaders' destroyed our bases. I know you captured that blubbering Arnim Zola. I know you think the information you stole hindered us. Tell me, Captain, why the SSR believes they stand a chance against us."
Captain? Captain, as in Steve? No!
At Steve's insufficient answer, Shmidt hits him upside the head. "I could do this all day," Steve says.
"I believe you, my dear Captain. But you see, I am on a schedule."
Everything begins to shake. Walls rattle, weapons rock. Having nothing to hold on to, I curl up in a ball. What's happening! The walls shake some more, and then stop. From what I can see we're in the air. Somehow flying. How this thing floats…that would be an interesting thing to study. If not for the SSR, then at least for my own inventions. I can't even feel us moving. Neat.
Suddenly HYDRA agents come in, toting guns. "Hail HYDRA!" they chant. All I can see is their feet, so I cautiously stick my eyes above the desk. Most tote normal guns. A few carry flamethrowers. All are murderous. It's obvious even without my special abilities. Red Skull barks at them to take down Steve in German. They get into formation. They're about to fire when one shouts, "The Freedom Fighter! She is here!"
Darn it. They found me. There is no use trying to hide now. I jump up, having regained most of my energy, and I quip, "Look what you've done. Almost forgot to start without me." I punch the man across the room and sock the guy next to me on the jaw. Immediately guns are pointed at me. My comment seems to have angered some, others are amused. Either way, triggers are pulled. I leap off the desk. Steve breaks his bonds and joins the fray. I bound across the room and throw Steve's shield to him, which rests against the wall. He catches it just in time to block a blow. I push off the wall to force an energy blast back to its sender. Shmidt takes post behind a large gun fueled by the Tesseract. Stationary, ready to shoot should his soldiers fail. Oh, they will.
A shot flies towards me so fast I have to duck. Flattening on the ground, I look up to see an agent looming over me. He places a booted foot on my back, preventing me from standing up. Then a fist connects with the back of my head. "Excuse me," I comment, "did anyone ever teach you it's not acceptable to hit a girl?" I twist around to display a sweet smile. Without further ado, I shoot him. He staggers backwards. A final kick and he's down for the count. One pistol is out of ammo; the other's remaining bullets are used up quickly. Not enough time to reload. Time to move on to good old-fashioned martial arts. I don't trust myself with my powers anymore, not with my faltering strength. I end up back-to-back with Steve.
"I thought I told you to stay away from here!"
"You're welcome, by the way."
"Thank you. I thought I told you to stay away from here!"
"Later you'll forgive me. All this information, you know you want it. Besides, how could I pass something like this up? Look around. This thing is an engineering marvel."
"I know that. Just finish up and help Toro or something."
I know, he says. Go help Toro, he says. Like that's going to happen. Nothing will make me leave this aircraft. I jump over a body and take out a flamethrower. Flamethrowers may be powerful, but they're slow. Clunky. Not good for close combat against a much more agile child. I easily dive between his legs and break the fuel canister. The blue fluid spills, some on me, most in him. That was easy. I pause for a second, beginning to feel overwhelmed. There's no way I can go on much longer. I'm exhausted. I rest against a wall. With hardly enough time to catch my breath, a clicking noise behind me makes me spin around. Only enough time to throw up a shield. It worked! I drop my hands to my sides. One brushes against something warm and sticky. The white glove is stained red. My hand goes in past my skin. Did it work? Finally I dare to look down. The warm, rust-scented fluid is my blood. Pouring silently out my side, down my leg, pooling on the floor. No hope of slowing down. Red splatters everywhere, including my boot and leg. I stagger backwards and the world goes black.
Why is there blood in my mouth? Tastes like rust. And why is it all over my right side? Did I do something? I force my eyes open. Mostly dried blood surrounds my body, covering the steel floor. Some coats my hair, making it unnaturally red. I move my head a fraction of an inch to see a disgusting side wound. Scabs formed around the edges. The center is still a deep molten red. It's a wonder I haven't bled to death. Moving makes it burn like it's on fire. Baby steps. Lay on your stomach. Easy… Get on your hands and knees. Ouch! Slower. Crouch first. Slowly stand up. Don't overdo it. That's it. Talking to myself like this lets me stand up, at least hunched over. Blood trickles out. I hobble over to the wall. What I see is terrible. Steve, Captain America, is facing off against the Red Skull. And losing. Badly.