Driving through Novi Grad was like working our way through the labyrinth. The streets were crowded and tightly packed, with towering stone buildings walling either side. We drove slowly through the city, giving me a chance to see the crumbling capital up close. I took everything in with measured concentration, noting waterlogged posters, the rippled glass windows and the rebels independency pamphlets fluttering across the street, figuring this would be my last glance of the world, outside of the Hydra base Strucker and his men were taking me to. It was a dismal final look, but at least now I knew what the fuss was over Sokovia.

We passed a group of protesters, looking as mangy as the wild dogs that roamed the alleys. They shouted at the shiny SUV as we crawled past, banging on the windows and the hood until the driver laid on his horn. They slowly parted like the Red Sea to let us through. I wasn't sure what language they were speaking. I turned to Strucker, who was sitting in the passenger seat.

"What are they saying?" I asked.

Strucker sighed. "The literal translation is 'A borrowed country, we will no longer be' but more or less they are asking for independence. The Sokovian people are like sheep without shepards. Since its founding it has been conquered and captured by neighboring nations. They were Russians, they were Romanians, they were Bulgarians, they were even French back in early eighteen hundreds. They share their history with whoever claimed them at the time. They have never been their own nation."

"What are they now?"

"Now they are a hapless country. They are under a military coupe until they agree upon a form of government., but, given the history, it will not last long. Since they have never had independence, they do not have the resources to sustain themselves."

The vehicles bumped over cobbled streets, swaying me between the two Hydra agents that sat on either side of me. Someone in the crowed threw a rock at the windshield. It clinked and bounded off the bullet proof glass. "They seem to really like you." I muttered.

"The Sokovians are suffering and SHIELD and Hydra are here bleeding their resources. Of course they do not like us," he turned in his seat and glanced at me. "But they have a special hatred in their hearts for SHIELD, specifically Stark Industries."

"Why?"

"Who else gave their enemies weapons to control their homeland?"

I looked out the window as the SUV passed a graffitied stone wall. Mr. Stark's insignia was crudely spray painted across the stones, and over it was Sokovian profanities. I sat back in my seat.

"Sokovian's have reasons to hate a lot of people. They hate the Germans for monopolizing their copper export, they hate Americans for meddling with their politics, they hate SHIELD for intruding on their riots. They blame everyone else for their problems, but the real issues come from within. They need strong leaders to rebuild this country, but they haven economically interdependent on other nations for so long they have forgotten what is means to be Sokovian. I fully expect them to be under siege again with in two or three years."

It was silent the rest of the drive. Sokovia was pretty, but mismatched from centuries of someone else's designs. Romanesque churches sat against stores with Russian architecture influences. Old timber frame houses looked awkward behind street lights and telephone wires. The people didn't fare much better. They glared at us as we passed and I was grateful for the tinted windows so they couldn't see my face. They looked desperate, waiting for change to happen. Even the sky seemed to sense the hopelessness that settled over the valley. Gone was the bright blue, replaced with a hazy summer smog.

We reached the outskirts of Novi Grad where strait, stone streets turned to patchwork farmland and then forest. Past the towering pines, craggy mountains rose from the ground like spikes on the spine of a sleeping dragon.

I leaned forward in my seat as the fort rose out of the trees, situated on a rolling foothill. It was squat with gun port windows and a low roof. It looked sturdy, menacing. The SUV rocked violently and we were suddenly thumping over abandoned rail roads towards a tunnel. The driver flicked the headlights on as we rode underground towards the center of the fort.

I tried to remember our path as we parked and Strucker led the way up a tight, winding staircase, the kind that only allowed us to go up single file; through the tunnel, a slight right until we reached the foundation under the fort. Through the heavy wooden doors, up a flight of stairs, down a long dimly lit corridor. I would need to know my way out if I ever had the chance to escape.

The fort was dark and quiet and smelled musky. Bare pipes ran the length of the walls and single light bulbs lit the corridors with a dim yellow glow. The only way I knew we were finally above ground was when I passed a gun port and could see out into the courtyard. The halls were cramped and often times I had to turn my upper body to let other Hydra workers pass. No one seemed to notice, or care, that my face looked like it had been hit with a meat tenderizer, and that I was trailed by Hydra agents carrying assault rifles. Apparently, my forced presence didn't warrant any kind of concern.

Strucker lead the way down another corridor, up a few stone steps, and pushed open a heavy steel door. There was a large window on the far wall, and another corridor to my left. Men sat at computers, each wearing headsets and typing away on their keyboards. They looked up as we entered, a few gazes lingering curiously on my face. Strucker stepped down to talk to one of the Hydra operatives, and the two agents trailing me moved further into the control room. I glanced at the hallway, wondering how far I could get before I was caught.

Probably not far.

I swallowed and glanced at Strucker, shifting uneasily on my feet. I wasn't sure what to do with myself.

"Where's Doctor List?" Strucker was asking one of the workers.

I glanced around the control room again, doing a double taken at a young Hydra operative's computer screen. Forgetting my initial fear, I wondered down the steps until I was standing behind the worker who was watching news footage on his computer. He glanced over his shoulder at me.

"What?" he asked, irritated.

"Can you turn that up?" I asked breathlessly and stepped closer. His gaze slid to Strucker before he clicked the volume on.

An armored vehicle, one I recognize since it was parked at SHIELD headquarters from sun up to sun down every day, was speeding down a street, trailed by police cars with flashing lights. The windshield was shattered and bullet holes decorated one side.

"…unable to confirm the identity of the SUV driver," the news reporter was saying, "Seems they are headed down 17th in Arlington according to the chopper cams. No word yet of the standoff that happened moments before the chase…"

I watched as Director Nick Fury's SUV braked, then reversed to pin a police officer between the bumper and another car. He maneuvered The Black Beast forward, sending a car careening into another police officer, the man going through the window of a bus stop. I leaned over, one hand on the Hydra man's chair, another clutching the edge of the desk. He shifted, but his personal space was the least of my concerns.

Crooked police men continued to fire at Director Fury, ignoring the people around them that were screaming and taking cover. The news reporter had stopped talking, stunned to silence. My heart thumped wildly in my chest as a semi blew through an intersection and took out two police cars. I knew Directory Fury well enough to know that the police following him were operating outside the law, and for a moment, a feeling of relief spread through me as he finally managed a getaway. If anyone could out smart Hydra, it was him. I had no idea what was happening, but Director Fury was in trouble, and if he was in trouble, all of SHIELD would be spiraling down that same rabbit hole sooner rather than later.

Then the chopper cam switched angles and I saw him. The man who had attacked me the other night. The man that turned me over to Hydra. The Winder Soldier.

"No."

He stood in the middle of the street, looking like a Son of Perdition straight from the bowels of hell. He fired something, a disk, from his weapon. It skidded along the asphalt and detonated under The Black Beast. Director Fury's SUV was upturned in a cloud of fire and smoke in a manner of seconds. It slid a hundred or so feet before finally stopping. The Winter Solider lowered his weapon slowly and walked towards the director.

"No!"

"Enough."

The computer screen went blank.

"No!" I shouted and turned to the Hydra agent next to me. "Turn it back on!" He met my gaze but did nothing. I spun around to look at Strucker, standing behind us and looking very off put. "Turn it on!" I snapped at him.

Strucker snorted. "No."

"Please! I need to know what is happening out there! I need to know if Directory Fury is alive!"

"Miss Hunt you are no longer affiliated with SHIELD, you work for Hydra now, so I suggest you stop concerning yourself with them," Strucker replied.

I took a menacing step towards him and an agent across the room lifted his rifle. I heard the click of the safety switch. I stopped, feeling a swell of emotions in my chest. Desperation, fear, confusion. SHIELD was crumbling at the hands of Hydra while I was stuck halfway across the country. I needed to be back in America, at the med bay, so I could help.

"Take me back," I said, my voice sounding pleading and pathetic. "You've got the wrong person! I-I can't do this!"

Strucker reached out and put his hand on my shoulders. I jerked away from him. He sighed through his nose and stepped closer to me, looking down at me steadily. I had to raise my chin to meet his eyes.

"I can tell you all day that what we are doing here is special, and that we need someone special to help us complete it," he said, his voice easy, "But what good will that do? Let me introduce you to our head doctor. You can see what we are working towards and you can speak with the very people involved. I can not take you back. The only way for you, now, is forward. The sooner you understand that, the easier all of this will be."

I scowled at him, my lip curling in hate. He spoke like a father talking to a child. It felt patronizing.

He turned and indicated with his fingers for me to follow.

I glanced around the control room, which had fallen silent. The Hydra operative seated at the desk next to us watched me curiously. I looked at the agent across the room, who had lowered his rifle. Again, I had no other option, so I followed Strucker out of the room and down the dark hall, keeping my gaze lowered.

He lead me through winding, dim corridors and I had already forgotten the way we had come. Down more flights of stairs. The lower parts of the fort were muggy in the mid-summer heat. As we stepped into a wide, low celling room, I could hear the buzz of fans in the background. The room was cramped with steel tables and computers that reminded me a little of the lab back home, except bleak and darker and less sanitary. Hydra workers strode back and forth across the room, pausing only to say, "Herr Strucker" with a nod as they passed.

"This, is the wing where we conduct our experiments," Strucker said and he lead me towards a short man with salt and pepper hair seated at a lab table in the middle of the room. "And this, is our head doctor, Doctor Dieter List."

The man named Doctor List looked up from his computer. He removed his glasses and stood up, regarding me curiously.

"So, this is our newest addition?" Doctor List said. His accent was not as strong as Strucker's. He was an inch or so shorter than me, which was saying something. I was shorter than most people. He had a stern looking face, but instead of feeling threatened by him—like I was with Strucker—he seemed more inquisitive, analytical. The typical countenance of a well-educated man. He stuck out his hand to me. "A pleasure."

I glanced down at his hand, but did not take it. He lowered it slowly.

"Still adjusting, I see," he said, excusing my bad manners. He was stupider than he looked if he thought I was going to be cordial to the people who took me hostage. He glanced at Strucker.

"I thought we could show Miss Hunt what we are working towards?" Strucker suggested.

Doctor List bobbed his head in a nod. "Of course," he said.

Strucker gave a tight-lipped smile that did not reach his eyes. "Excellent. I have other business to attend to, so I will leave you to it." He waved his hand dismissively before turning and leaving.

I stood there uncomfortably, eyeing Doctor List like he was a snake; seemingly minding his own business until he was ready to strike. He indicated to his nose. "Looks like you had a time getting here," he said.

I frowned. "You could say that."

Doctor List shrugged, taking his seat at the computer again. He indicated to the chair next to him and I slowly lowered myself in it. The snake bite never came. He replaced his glasses calmly.

"Unfortunate," he commented as he typed. "If it's any consolation, I suggested a quiet meeting with an open offer to come work for Hydra, but Strucker and Pierce both thought it would be prudent to handle things more…zealously."

I wasn't sure how he expected me to respond, so I reverted to my best form of communication: a disgusted scowl.

Doctor List ignored my expression, bringing up information on the screen. The medical practitioner in me took over and I leaned in closer, curiosity outweighing cautionary.

"Since having the Scepter, I've been able to harness just enough energy to create a viable serum. It's crude, at best, but we never expected to be able to malleate the energy, let alone turn it into a liquid form, so what we have is quite an achievement in and of itself," Doctor List commented, pulling up a list of the serums' chemical compounds. Some I recognized, others I had no idea how to begin to pronounce. I assumed that those were the alien elements extracted from the Scepter. "I've been using notes from past scientists who have attempted the same thing; Erskine, Zola, even the lab notes from Thaddeus Ross."

"The man who created the Hulk?" I asked.

Doctor List nodded. "Yes. We've forgone the use of gamma radiation specifically for that reason. You have met Zola's experiment, the Winter Solider, and seen first hand how unstable he is. While that is a combination of scientific experiments and conditioning, we still decided to go a safer direction. Howard Stark's—"

"Stark had his hand in this?" I interrupted.

"Yes," Doctor List replied, now pulling up Howard Stark's file on the computer to let me skim through his information. "Back in the 90's he recreated the serum, but on top of enhancing strength, accelerated healing and brain reactivity, it brought out an aggressive side of the assassins that was uncontrollable. So I have scrapped most of his notes too. Erskine and his super solider serum from World War II is the closest thing we have to what we are trying to achieve here in Sokovia."

"If Erskine's final project is what you want, why not just recreate his experiments?" I asked, then internally kicked my own ass. If I didn't want to help the enemy, I should start by not making suggestions on how to improve their human experimentation.

Doctor List smiled. "Throughout history his field notes have been changed and lost. We only have a bit of the original information he was working with. Besides, we found the Scepter energy to be the most direct form of human manipulation. By studying past scientific advancements, and conducting our own experiments, we have come closer than ever before to creating a serum so pure it could change the course of history. Working for SHIELD, I'm sure you have seen first hand what the Scepter can do. Imagine harnessing its energy to improve human life."

I remembered vividly Loki's presence on Earth and the Battle of New York. It was one of the few times I had been called into the main floor of the med bay to help the doctors. Civilian casualties had been so widespread that SHIELD had opened its doors to the public. I remember the bay being overcrowded that day, everyone packed in operating rooms like sardines, smelling of copper and sweat and dirt. I remember running around, hands covered in someone else's blood, trying to refill dwindling supplies, comfort hysteric people, and piece together what was happening a thousand feet above our heads.

"I've heard of it's power," I replied, my voice small.

Doctor List clicked off his computer and turned to me.

"As a fellow doctor, I know you share a similar curiosity and excitement that I do for the possibility of man-made superheroes. But I also know what you are struggling with. Strucker will convince you to work for Hydra by any means necessary, and while you don't have much of a choice, you should know all the facts. Before we introduce you to the volunteers, you must remember that they are here on their own accord. We all are, except you of course. We started with nineteen Sokovian volunteers but we are down to four now."

"Why?" I asked.

"The rest did not survive the experiments."

I stayed still, trying not portray the alarm I felt at his words. I didn't need clarification on what he meant.

"When we presented the opportunity to the Sokovian people, dozens volunteered to help their country. We weeded through the list of names, picking out those that were the most eligible for human experimentation. No one underage, no one with a family. No one with debilitating illnesses, people of average weight and average IQ, under forty five years old and so forth. We thought that if we used stronger bodies, the serum would have better chances of taking, and the volunteers would have a better chance at survival."

"Did they know the risks when hey volunteered?" I asked.

Doctor List pursed his lips, looking uneasy. "Our process is top secret information on a need to know basis only."

"So that's a no," I said accusingly.

"Correct," List said, studying my face. I tried to seem passive, not wanting to let on how frightened I was. I wanted to seem strong, even though I felt that at any moment I would break down.

"I know what you are thinking. I know how you must be feeling," he continued and I couldn't help but think that, no, Doctor List had no idea what I was going through. "You've been trained to believe Hydra is your enemy, but perhaps that isn't the case. Maybe you were meant to be here, rather than with SHIELD."

"I wasn't trained, I know Hydra is the enemy," I snapped. "My place is with SHIELD."

"You place?" he asked. "You mean in the lab filing reports?"

I didn't reply.

Doctor List sighed. "Director Fury has given you the short end of the stick. I knew that from the moment I read your file. SHIELD has always been too cautionary with their brilliant minds, like keeping them on a tight enough leash means they are able to control them better. That's why Hydra has been able to create more in the past few months than SHIELD has ever had the audacity to attempt, because we let our people grow to their full protentional."

"You operate without moral obligation," I pointed out viciously, hating the way Doctor List derogated SHIELD, "Of course we haven't attempted what you have. We have integrity."

"Sacrifices must be made for the greater good," was his simple reply, "SHIELD loses sight of the final objective because they lack the courage to push the boundaries. It's simple as that."

"And the final objective?"

"Power, peace, sovereignty, unity, the ideology of the common good before individual good," Doctor List replied.

"You sound like Strucker," I said with a snort.

Doctor List's face darkened. "He and I share similar beliefs, but do not make the mistake of thinking that we are anything alike."

I closed my eyes and dropped my head into my hands, careful not to bump my nose or touch the bruises around my neck. I uttered a groan into my hands, feeling the choke of tears in the back of my throat. I wanted this nightmare to end and for all of this to just be a terrible dream. I wanted to wake up, and go back to my mediocre lab job where I was safe and had good benefits.

"Miss Hunt, please," Doctor List said, his voice low but firm. "You need to pull yourself together. Strucker will play nice so long as you do what he asks, but his patience will not last forever. Either work with Hydra or face death, but make your choice before Strucker makes it for you."

I looked up at him through my fingers.

"If you hate the idea of working for Hydra, then think of this as saving people's lives. There are four volunteers left. Fifteen have already perished on the table. If you can fine tune this serum, then no one else has to die."

"I just want to go home," I said lamely, my voice barley a few decibels above a whisper.

Doctor List rubbed his eyes underneath his spectacles and stood up.

"I don't have that power," he said, "But I can take you to the temporary room we have fashioned for you on the base. You can clean up and change your clothes and get some rest. I'm sure you could use something to eat too. Take a moment to think about what you have learned so far. You might surprise yourself."

Doctor List turned and maneuvered his way around equipment and other Hydra operatives. I watched him exit the lab, my stomach pinching at the mention of food. The last thing I remember eating was a coffee the intern had offered me two days ago. Pulling myself up, I followed the doctor on slow, unsteady feet, dread leaking its way into my body along with the exhaustion and worry I had been feeling since I woke up on the jet that morning.