{Chapter 23}
The shadow of death always traced his steps, darkness never receded when flecks of light tried to bleed through the grayish chasms of his nightmarish captivity. Resisting the control that was branded against his heart became a taxing process to relent against, the vivid scales of red obstructed the right level of clarity as he settled a steadied glare on the body squirming underneath his weight. In a second of lifted mercy, his chrome fingers responded to the automatic impulse of terminating the deviant.
Static collected in his mind, as voices of his handlers reactivated his killer instincts to extract breath from a targeted victim. He delivered brutal pressure over the sentry's throat, fingers molding over a throbbing vein that was bruised with remnants of his merciless strength. He displayed no hesitation as impulses of rage had fueled through his blood. Every pulse siphoned with relentless urges to execute the obstacles that blocked his path.
Chokes of breath deafened in his ears, as he refused to allow the unconscious body drop inches at his boots. He wanted to relish into all of the unhinged emotion that stirred within his depths. A trail of blood was left in the wake of his dark path, as he shifted his momentum forward, his enhanced senses turned into biometric scanning; he became highly alert to the enforcing obstruction that waited for him around the corner.
Inhaling the stench of pongy sweat that the Winter Soldier recognized that taint of fear reeking from the passed out operatives behind a busted pipe. Scowling to the evident of his attack, he brandished his knife and held it with a firm clench while being fully aware that HYDRA personal were assembling down the corridor to prevent him from breaching the ISO chamber. He froze in midstep, his face grew dormant as darkness settled over the chiseled sculpt of his bristled jaw. He was anchored to the ground, motionless in the shadows; and only allowed the faintest of blue light to reflect over his feverish skin and the plates of his metal arm.
Hearing a scream of distress tagging his senses, he automatically crouched down, low to his haunches with balletic ease and composed a measure of patience to remain potent in his elevating pulse. He needed to recalculate his direct approach, time was limited and he felt a strange vapor looming in the shadows: a ghost was present to expose, something that he remembered feeling in a distant life.
"You gotta save her, Buck," A voice within him stirred as echoes of memory grew potent to relent against. The recall of his conscience possessed a measure of hope to use as his source of resilience. He looked back to the darkness, every shade detached as white light bled through. Banishing all impulses to resist, he focused on a solitary figure emerged from the chasms of his locked down memories...A tall soldier emblazoned with the patriotic colors of red, white and blue: the symbol of unconquerable liberty: his freedom reflected back into his distortions of his addled vision. "Finish the mission, Buck, prove to them that no messes with a kid from Brooklyn."
"I'm not a kid from Brooklyn," he growled in a raw declaration, his throat seized up to deliver an objection as the phantom haze of that distinct face kept him locked into a tangible moment, it became inescapable to venture out of, everything felt real as the blond haired American soldier mounted himself against the beam of light shining through a contortion of pipes. He blinked as the man's chiseled and boyish visage possessed a desperate twinge in his leashed up spirit. He couldn't regard the intensity of stare that pinned his body to remain impassive as rims of glacial blue in his eyes retracted light, he searching beyond the obscurity tangling over him. "I'm nobody..."
...First, we will break you on the inside, it's a lesson that you must learn. After all, you belong to HYDRA, and when your evolution is completed, you will not be human enough to feel anything...
"You know damn well who you are, Buck," The taller soldier grounded out, firmly. His fierce blue eyes blazed with defining truth. He was an untouchable illusion that the Winter Soldier's disconnected mind had conjured up, nothing more than a chimera to evoke a sense of humanity to return. A leather gripped hand reached to clamp his shoulder, as a phantom sense of brotherly warmth returned. "Don't let em' beat you...Fight for her and yourself. Be that soldier who always raced into the jaws of death with me...Be James 'Bucky' Barnes."
Each timbre of the soldier's unbidden voice recalled memories that begun to repossess all the uncertain, unsustainable thoughts, and he tried to bury everything down into the cold fathoms, refusing to give into the starving desperation of remembering a time before he fell into a passage of frozen death.
"Steve..."
His voice strained as screams died out in those arduous moments, Bucky felt bones jolting as gravity forced his body to slice through solid contortion of branches attached pine trees shadowing over the edge of a frozen ravine.
Scratches became visible streaks of red over his bruised cheeks, making his descent he landed on his back with a graceless thump, never looking at the damaging extent of his mangled left arm. Smears of crimson painted over mounds of snow, as his flaying and drenched body carved into the ground. He restored to focus on the faint hitches of breath, tasting blood clog up his lungs. It hurt to catch air, his ribs felt detached and puncturing through bruised muscle, and his vision was dimming against a coating of tears.
"Steve..." He managed to choke out, trying to lift his dead weight off of the ground, but ridged muscles of his chest throbbed with anguishing thumps and his stomach wouldn't unkink under the tattered jacket. Pain exploded through his body, cries strangled up his throat; he could barely elevate his back an inch off the ground. He was straining against the cold slashes of wind and felt his immobilized body entering a convulsing stage of shock. His ears muffled out the distant sounds of a train horn, and with another mouthful of air, and forcing effort, he raised his hand, setting no resolve on the dark lines of blood sliding over his pale knuckles. He was reaching for the light as every pulse of his body craved for mercy as snow touched his stiffening fingers. Surrendering to death, he voiced out one last pitch of his failing words."Don't forget about me..."
It was days before he heard echoes of unknown voices returning through whiteness, the full extent of beta serum Zola repeatedly had injected him with during his experimental trails as a subject for HYDRA's rebirth, had solidified in his bones, every strand of his DNA was alerted to relent against pain. He was being reborn:the eternal grave ice morphed into a cradle. Blood froze in his veins, but his sated mind was aware of the shifting vibrations around him; boots crunched as tall figures wearing fur hats claimed him for the Soviet Army prisons. One stocky blur came into full clarity, as he managed cracked open his eyes, just enough to see Armin Zola standing over him. "Good day to you, Herr Barnes."
A butt of a rifle landed into his temple, and Bucky saw drops of jet red spilling out his mouth, tasteless over his chilled lips. His head jerked back in wheezed yelp as Zola's gloved hand seized possession around his throat, squeezing every bit of defiance until he was completely rigid under HYDRA's clutch. Once he was fell into submission, the Swiss doctor offered him no pressure of mercy, stubby fingers jabbed into dislocated bones, delivering a harsh break to fully butcher the soldier's exposed weakness.
Bucky screamed as influxes of agony increased, his feverish blue eyes clenched shut and breath collapsed into choking sobs, he was falling captive to Zola's depraved mind, and only prayed that he would receive a soldier's death."It appears we have a lot of work ahead of us, Sergeant James Barnes."
Falling back into reality, he quickened his paces with malicious intent, searching down the vast corridor, the Winter Soldier's nose crinkled against the stench of rust that wavered in the air, above him contortions of pipes leaked out remnants of liquid nitrogen, as droplets of frosty blue dribbled into his wolfish mane. He reached his directive point, narrowing his steeled gaze to the door latch, and turned it upwards as creaks revealed emptiness, in that moment he stalked inside, he was greeted by darkness. His fleeting thoughts welcomed the presence of dread. "Avora..." he rasped out, stepping closer to a heap of dark clothing, instantly recognizing that each piece had been stripped off. His carved muscles kinked as he gripped the shirt into the rigid and desperate clutch of his metal hand. "Where are you, ангел?"
"Looking for the little brat, Winter?"
"Rumlow?" He growled, offering the operative no silence as he sprang up to full height, his boots melded into the ground, as he held Rumlow's reflection in the second, his cold murderous gaze calculated the distance of his strike zone.
"Were you expecting the little brat to crawl back into your arms, Winter?" Rumlow taunted back in a gruff echo, dryness of empathy was teeming in his throat. His solid weight leaned against the concrete wall, clutching a torn piece of Avora's clothing, almost possessive as his trophy. He didn't attempt to breach the Winter Soldier's space, his dark tinted eyes held a challenging resolve, provoking his equal to engage. "Hate to break it to you, but she's not here...The brat belongs to HYDRA."
Cold embers seared through his bones, and everything went vacant inside. The Winter Soldier had the fuel to engage termination with any means necessary to save Avora, the prolific combat-honed skills he harbored, doused all collective logic rapidly in his mind, and his reserved expression hardened into a vicious scowl, as his metal hand clenched into a fist. There was no display of hesitation in his stance, and Rumlow knew that he just became a target.
The operative's tanned features held no semblance of compromise and both him and the Winter Soldier became parallel in the shadows: two deadly forces preparing to clash into a violent storm of raw brutality. "I thought you didn't care...Since you've always followed orders to execute,but I guess that girl has made you become soft...inferior to HYDRA. How demeaning for you, Bucky,"
...James Buchanan Barnes...
For a moment, his recollected memories raced into tumults of distortion. The pulse of his heartbeat accelerated, fueling each unbidden desire to fight against the programming that severed all threads of humanity. Inside he was screaming, but his stance was grounded to remain impassive. It was a damning approach to feel a sharp lance of remorse cutting into his heart... Everything was bleeding out him.
"No..." He hitched out a vicious seethe, harsh to feel clotting in his throat. His glacial blue eyes darkened with malice and feral intent. Rumlow was tormenting him with deception; making him lose focus on the mission. He was designed to function as HYDRA's killing machine, a nameless phantom who had been controlled to isolate weakness in his victims.
This was invalid to reason, a form of sadistic delight for Rumlow's gain. He refused to submit, as the name echoed through the dark edges of his mind. "I don't have a name," He spat, clenching his bristled jaw to exhibit raw frustration. His murderous, calculating gaze didn't waver as he resolved to engage his merciless driven attack."That's a damn lie!"
Rumlow smirked, darkly. "I assure you, Winter, that your real, pathetic name is Bucky Barnes, an old pal of the Brooklyn flag waver himself, dead and gone, Captain America."
"Shut up!"
He was drawn, balefully, from his reverie as he listened to the cold mechanical voice of the PA system drone out through the levels. "Attention: The forward laboratory will be prepped for surgery in 5 minutes. All medical personnel report to suite 5E. Lockdown procedures initiated."
The alarming message was like a bucket of cold water thrown over his benumbed posture; it struck a chord of urgency within the Winter Soldier, who had before become distracted by the puzzling images resurfacing in his mind. Time was running out—for both himself and Avora.
The sardonic chuckle wafting from the smirking cruel lips of Rumlow indicated that the Hydra operative knew the exact same. "Not long till the little brat makes a bloody generous donation," he taunted with a sadistic twinkle in his eyes, standing tall and purposeful as he blocked the path ahead that led to the labs. His mission was clear and his method, however daring, had proven effective against the confused and rebellious assassin. "Did you really think you could save her?" Rumlow scoffed with an amused smile as he continued his verbal jab. "You?! You couldn't even save your own ass from falling off a train. The kid is as good as dead!"
The fog of confusion had lifted in the Winter Soldier's mind, only for an inferno of rage to scorch it. A surge of fire ran through his veins, the empowerment of strength and defiance that compelled him to exact his toll of retribution. "NO!" His restraint snapped like so many necks he'd grappled in his lifetime, and he was charging at the Hydra operative fast as a bullet and lethal with the same intent. A ringing blared in his ears, so loud and shrilling it sounded like a scream—his own or of the ghosts he had created. They howled with him in unison as he made his move.
Quick as his reflexes, Rumlow drew his pistol from his holster and fired a straight shot in the Winter Soldier's direction only for it to be dodged by his enhanced speed. The bang reverberated off the walls of the chamber in maddening pulses that Rumlow winced in pain, losing focus of his target who charged at him with animalistic fury waged across his sneering exterior. Winter Soldier retaliated with a winding forward punch of his metal fist to the mercenary's chest. The Kevlar beneath his onslaught cracked against his strength.
Rumlow ignored the crushing pain in his chest, decades worth of field experience and hand-to-hand combat encounters ingrained him with a sense of urgency and reliance on quick-thinking. Any misstep would result in a fatal blow, especially against an opponent as dangerous as The Winter Soldier. Not missing a beat, even as he crashed backwards against a stack of crates, Rumlow took aim again with his pistol and fired at his foe again. The bullets hit their mark this time, two shots struck the Soldier's chest where their advance was halted by his own Kevlar-leather coated vest. "Damn it." The mercenary cursed, watching as the expression on the Soldier's face became a chilling mask of absence.
That wasn't good. Winter Soldier was a tool to be used for one thing: inflicting death. He felt no remorse, no pain nor fear of self-preservation when activated. There was not a thing that could stop him from executing his target. His fists clenched as a surge of dominance pulsed through him, and he continued his attack with a devastating front kick, the muscle of his hip recoiled as he delivered- propelled- his boot into his opponent's armored chest, knocking him off balance to the ground. As harrowing as the attack felt, Rumlow felt a foreboding as his hearing detected a snarl from the Soldier's lips, "You die."
Sensing his advantage, Winter Soldier rushed his downed opponent with his metal fist raised, bringing it downward—only to connect with concrete once Rumlow evaded him. The operative was quick, his adrenaline rushing with his instincts as he swept his leg against Winter Soldier's ankles and brought the assassin crashing down onto his back. "You first, freak." The operative sneered, discarding his empty pistol and lifting a 200lb metal crate over his head with a strenuous demeanor. Winter Soldier reacted sharply and rolled backwards in time to avoid the crushing weight brought down in front of him. A deafening thud echoed throughout the chamber, but above the hollowing noise, Winter Soldier could hear the PA system continue to drone out, "The forward laboratory will be prepped for surgery in 4 minutes. All medical personnel report to suite 5E. Lockdown procedure initiated."
Winter Soldier sheltered himself from the stabbing sense of urgency, even as it clawed at the surface of his patience in an effort to overwhelm his self-control. His struggle however, was magnified by the harsh noise of his hands balling into fists; his fierce shadowed glare never leaving Rumlow. The mercenary was quick to resume his assault by kicking a smaller crate towards Winter Soldier's face. The assassin effortlessly swats the metal object away with his arm, but the distraction granted enough time for Rumlow to charge and tackle his opponent towards the wall with a yell. "Give it up!" Filled with aggression, he head-butted the Soldier repeatedly until his offense is countered by a knee to his stomach.
Growling, The Winter Soldier kneed the operative's stomach again even harder until Rumlow doubles over with a gasp. His teeth bared into a snarl of ruthlessness, the Soldier grapples the operative by his torso and drives a vicious forearm down across his spine to shatter his resilience, then follows up by grappling his foe by his back and throwing him hard against the wall with immense strength. "Never!" He roared, a rising desperation brewing within as his emotions slowly began to creep back into his being. He felt sheer adrenaline and power pulse through his being, its capacity beyond measure, his killer instinct on high alert. The impulses screamed through him like sirens, they guided his actions and he swung his cybernetic fist with murderous intent towards his rising opponent.
"You will not take her!" He cried, though his swing missed the still sharp mercenary by inches, the impact left a visible crack against the wall of the chamber. Rumlow staggered on his feet, his sweaty complexion a wash of pain and exertion but there was no sign of relent in his posture. Despite the number of aching points in his battered body, the Hydra soldier gave no pause as he resumed his offense—swinging towards Bucky with a haymaker only to have it blocked. Unyielding, Rumlow continued his attack by shoving the Soldier back to allow space then resumed his offense with a shuffling side sick. Winter Soldier blocked each strike with equal movements of his own, their speed and precision a prowess to be unmatched by any they've fought before.
Their violent barrage became a dance of skill; their music, the bone crushing noises of limbs colliding and yells of aggression. Rumlow felt frustration seeping into his sweaty pores, the urge to kill his opponent becoming ever stronger with each passing moment as he failed to gain an advantage in their brutal exchange. A judo kick to the Soldier's waist was blocked by an elbow; yet for his part, Rumlow managed to evade the Soldier's roundhouse kick and answered with his own cobra strike to the chest then a staggering backhand to the face. Winter Soldier startled backwards, his frosty gaze became daggers as he tasted blood on his lip. "Bet you didn't think you could bleed, did you?" Rumlow taunted, panting for breath, "don't worry. That was just a taste."
Pointedly, Rumlow unsheathed a combat knife from his belt; the blade scraped against its sheath in a calling gesture to the focused assassin who glared at it fixedly. A dangerous glint shone in Winter Soldier's eyes, his loose fingers at his side reflexively twitched. "You're going back in the freezer…" Gritting his teeth, Rumlow snarled and made his move with a precision dash, thrusting the sharpened knife edge in a side-ways motion towards the Soldier's neck. "Permanently this time!" The Hydra mercenary continued his rant, swiping again towards the face once his first attempt had been evaded.
The Winter Soldier ignored the threats, his calculating mind trained on the trajectory of Rumlow's attacks and waited for his opening while evading at the same time. Rumlow showed only the slightest sign of fatigue in his movements, but as he pressed his advantage on Winter Soldier to maneuver him towards the back wall, his opponent seized his wrist in the clutches of his metallic hand and retaliated with a winding punch to the face with his right hand.
"The forward laboratory will be prepped for surgery in 3 minutes." The cold reminder of the loss of time pricked at the assassin's nerves, shredding the vestiges of his detached patience that he couldn't force himself to ignore the warning. Rumlow appeared just as vexed at the slow passage of time in distracting this rampaging beast; his efforts to shred him yielded only a tear across his leather tactical vest, but nothing more grievous. He resumed his knife attack, this time with a spin kick added to his offense. His opponent blocked the attack with elbows but startled as he felt a brush of air across his face; he felt a jerk in against his long dark tresses and watched as the two of his locks were snapped away by the edge of the blade, meant to slash his face.
A cold smirk traced Rumlow's lips; a small victory as he gauged the Winter Soldier's ebbing focus that would no doubt play to his advantage. For a short yet tense moment, their burning stares remained locked, the mercenary still guarding the path to Avora with his held in a stood ready with his fists raised in a boxing stance. Rumlow stood breathless from exertion while the Winter Soldier remained calm. Unruffled at the thought of toying with his foe, Rumlow feinted a strike only to chuckle at the Winter Soldiers stoic demeanor. "Not even a blink? Can't see what the kid could appreciate from a twisted freak like yourself." He baited the Soldier, seeking to prey on his emotions and blind him from absolute focus. To his utter dismay, the Soldier's deadened eyes held only a murderous gleam in their depths—nothing broken or shattered, only magnified.
"All right then…" Rumlow sneered, curling his fingers into a dead hold around his knife, he made his last attempt to stab his enemy who reacted sharply. Winter Soldier caught Rumlow's arm, and with merciless force, brought the elbow down hard against the top of his shoulder; he listened with grim satisfaction as the bone snapped and a howl of agony erupted from the mercenary's throat. His instincts sharp, the Soldier watched as the knife fell free from the fingertips and fell into space in front of him until it was claimed by his reaching hand…
In a swift and devastating maneuver, the assassin spun and lodged the blade through a crack in the Kevlar and into the abdomen of the mercenary. Rumlow remained on his feet, despite what came next for him was a scorching white-hot pain spreading through every nerve in his body. A breathless gasp lingered at the tip of his tongue, his dark brown eyes glassy and wide in shock. Winter Soldier looks on, with a worn look through the bangs covering his brow as the mercenary stumbled off balance and ungracefully fell to the ground. Wincing as he pulled the knife with bloodied hands. Their fight had now reached its end; the Winter Soldier stood tall but felt no victory in his being—nothing would grant him that feeling if he failed to reached the lab in time.
"The forward laboratory will be prepped for surgery in 2 minutes." Sparing Rumlow a withering glance, Winter Soldier made his way forward across the clear path of the chamber. "I-It won't matter…" Rumlow grunted, covering his wound that didn't feel fatal, but completely left him at his opponent's mercy. An inkling of dread filled him as he contemplated the manner of which the assassin would finish him off. "…You won't be able to save her," he spat defiantly, a strained chuckle on his lips, "she's—" A harsh boot slammed against his head in a harsh kick. The darkness of slumber greeted him as Rumlow fell unconscious.
"Я до сих пор попробую. (I will still try.)" Winter Soldier released a shaky breath, no longer hindered by an obstacle as he continued down the path out of the ISO chamber and towards the laboratory wing.
When the elevator gated doors slid upwards, Avora displayed no measures of reluctance in her hushed strides Madame HYDRA's cold grasp steered her impassive body through the bowels of the labyrinthine, shadowy hazes of blue light veiled over her pale skin as she obeyed every command that the untraceable voices hollowly echoed back, no faltering balance traced her steps, just complete submission of a response to her mistress's lucid calls.
"You do not have far to go, child...The ascension of a new life for HYDRA is almost in your grasp." The pristine HYDRA enforcer hissed coolly, her breath rasped over to the girl's ear, with sadistic emotion rising in her voice. Avora didn't whimper as the strength of Madame HYDRA's leather gloved fingers coiled possessively around her neck, much like a viper, testing the pulse of its dormant prey.
Listening to the child rasp out a breath; it gave Madame HYDRA satisfaction as her polished emerald lips twisted into a vile satire of a devilish smirk, knowing that she had obtained full dominance of the latest victim of HYDRA's evolution."You have no idea the extent of the value that is contained in your blood...You were birthed into this irrelevant world for a reason...In time, you will learn to harness that power you feel, do you understand, child?"
"Yes, I understand, Mistress," Avora responded in a low voice, impotent to abstain a cry as the dark presence steered her onward. She felt numbness overtake her body; not registering the prick of the needle that jabbed into her arm as flaring pain became converted into ice and the distinct stench of blood awakened the ominous aura filtering in her veins. Hands of lab technicians yanked the material of her shirt, ushering her paces closer to the steel doors powered with hydraulics, a cold wave of air clashed against her exposed skin and darkness was all that reflected back to her.
