Chapter 10

Two Weeks Later
September 1949

"You wanted to see me, ma'am?"

Peggy looked up from the memo she was reading to see Agent Belenko hovering in the doorway to her office. The blonde woman's emerald dress looked brand new as she'd left Russia with only the clothes on her back.

"Come in and shut the door." Belenko did as instructed and sat in the chair across from Peggy. "As you're well aware, we had a leak within S.H.I.E.L.D., and I'd like you to make sure there aren't any others. You'll have access to personnel records and anything else you may need."

"Are you asking me to be internal affairs?" Belenko asked, looking uncertain.

"More than that. I need you to go undercover within S.H.I.E.L.D. I think your background makes you particularly suited to do so. You would, of course, have to stay here rather than go back to Moscow."

Belenko considered for a moment. "I'd actually like that a lot, staying here."

"You understand that no one can know your assignment. You'll report directly to me."

"Yes, ma'am, but there are a couple hundred agents to investigate."

"Which is why you'll have a list of potential candidates for your team to me by the end of next week. Congratulations, Agent Belenko. You've been promoted to level eight."

A once-cheerful bouquet of flowers sat on the corner of Peggy's desk, now wilted. Anna the switchboard operator had given them to Peggy last week as a welcome home gift. Or more likely, a thank god Phillips is going back into retirement gift. Many of the agents were intimidated by Director Carter, but they were terrified of Phillips, especially those who had never worked for him before.

Peggy grabbed the porcelain vase and carried it out to the small shared breakroom, a number of agents nodding or murmuring greetings as she passed. As much as she craved the excitement of working in the field, there was something nice about returning to her familiar office filled with people. She threw the flowers in the trash and poured the water down the sink when she noticed the usual chatter of the office go silent. On alert, she glanced around to see agents perked up like prairie dogs with their eyes glued somewhere near her office. She set the vase down and reached her hand under her jacket to grab her holstered gun as she rounded the corner and saw what all the fuss was about.

Steve Rogers, dressed in a dark gray suit with hat in hand, stood at the door to her office looking slightly lost. Relieved, Peggy let her hand fall away from her gun and strode down the hallway to greet him, her black patent heels clicking on the wood floor.

In an attempt to minimize any fanfare around Steve's return–at least within S.H.I.E.L.D.–Peggy had spread the word through the biggest office gossip, Anna. Within a day, all of operations was aware that Captain America was back and wanted to stay incognito. That still didn't stop a hundred pairs of curious eyes from following him all around the building. Of course, Peggy's control only spread so far. She didn't know how the rest of the world would react, having spent the last several years inundated with Captain America comic books, a radio show, and a film in technicolor.

"Hello, Steve," she said from behind him.

"Hey Peggy. Director Carter," he amended, glancing at the nameplate on her office door.

Peggy raised an eyebrow at the formality. "Do come in, Captain." She shut the door behind him, much to the disappointment of every prying eye and ear in the bullpen.

"You didn't tell me everyone here works for you," Steve said, sounding both impressed and chagrined.

"And for Howard. When he comes in, at least." Peggy sat behind her desk, and Steve took the guest chair once she was seated. "How are you?"

Several members of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s science division had been working with Steve for the last ten days to understand and counteract the Soviet programming. While Peggy received daily reports that she barely understood, she hadn't had a chance to say much more than hello to Steve since then.

"I'm all right. Howard seems optimistic. Pearson was able to remember the trigger phrase, but no one has been able to make it work for the last three days."

"That's excellent progress. And yet you don't seem happy about it."

"It's not that." Steve fiddled with the hat in his hands. "I'm not sure what to do. There's no one back in New York. The war is over, and I'm not needed anymore."

"Hmm. Have we come full circle back to lab rat or dancing monkey?" Steve looked up to meet her gaze, and she continued with conviction, "I think you know full well where I stand on that. Maybe the army doesn't need you anymore, but other people do."

Steve watched with curiosity as Peggy removed something from a drawer in her desk. A square of black leather sat atop a picture frame. Peggy rose and moved to stand in front of Steve, handing him the first object. He opened the black holder to reveal a shiny silver badge with a familiar eagle insignia. Above it was a card with his name and the title "Agent."

"I promised there was a place for you in S.H.I.E.L.D. You can protect people from the Soviets, Zodiac, and anything else that comes along. It's a little different than storming HYDRA bases, but I hope you might consider relocating to Washington."

Steve looked slowly from the badge to Peggy. "I would be honored."

"Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D., Agent Rogers," Peggy said, shaking his hand.

"Just when I'd gotten used to Captain."

"I suspect some will still call you that. In fact, once word gets out that you're alive, there might be quite a demand for Captain America."

Steve hid a slight grimace and looked down, noticing the photo in the frame still laying face-up on Peggy's desk. "You kept this?" he asked, picking it up. The tall, broad-shouldered man standing before Peggy looked little like his 90 pound former self in the photo. The man in the picture wasn't aware he was being photographed as he watched something out of the frame, longish hair threatening to fall over his eyes.

Peggy flushed a little. She wasn't entirely sure why she took it out of the desk drawer it had lived in for the past three years. Maybe it was to make a point to Steve, who, for such an intelligent man, could be entirely obtuse at times.

"After you disappeared, Captain America was everywhere, but it wasn't you. This was the only thing I had to remember Steve Rogers."

Steve carefully placed the photograph back on Peggy's desk before taking her hands in his. "I'll make it up to you someday," he vowed.

"You already have."

Eleanor Reed sat in a Department of Justice interview room, locked in but not handcuffed. She'd been questioned extensively, first by S.H.I.E.L.D. and then by the DOJ, but she didn't know much about the people she worked for. Reed was an informant, a tiny cog in the machine. Her failed attempt to sabotage S.H.I.E.L.D. in Russia was a mission of opportunity. If not for that, she might have gone on feeding information to the other side for years.

The door to the dimly-lit room opened to admit a man in a dark pinstripe suit and black overcoat. His hat stayed on, casting a shadow on his face, but Reed could make out enough of his features to recognize him as one of her contacts. She smiled broadly as she realized they were breaking her out. She wouldn't spend the rest of her life in jail or be executed for treason.

Reed stood and raised both arms in front of her. "Hail HYDRA," she saluted.

Her smile turned to fear as the man raised a gun and shot her in the forehead. "Hail HYDRA," he returned softly as he holstered his weapon and left the room, leaving Reed's body lying on the floor in a rapidly expanding pool of blood.