Chapter Seven: Information Gathering
"So," Natasha had joined them towards the tail end of Steve's explanation and had hopped up to sit on one of Sam's counters. "The question is, who at S.H.I.E.L.D. could launch a domestic missile strike?"
"Someone pretty high up," Rebecca answered her, swallowing another hearty sip of coffee. "You think the World Security Council has been HYDRA all this time?"
"Pierce." Steve shook his head at her.
"Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world." Natasha snorted at the irony.
"He's not working alone," Steve continued. "Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star."
A light clicked on for Natasha, "So was Jasper Sitwell."
Rebecca took the piece of cantaloupe Sam offered her and chewed thoughtfully. "Isn't he the guy who claimed to have discovered Thor?"
Natasha chuckled as she too recalled Sitwell's bragging over the Asgardian God of Thunder. "Yeah, though that was really Coulson." Then a somber look crossed her face as she remembered the now deceased Phil Coulson.
"So, the real question is," Steve brought them back to the topic at hand. "How do the three most wanted people in Washington kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. officer in broad daylight?"
"I could maybe do it in disguise?" Rebecca suggested thoughtfully. "I used to do undercover tracking. Blonde wig, big sunglasses, new outfit, a little padding."
"None of which we have on hand." Natasha pointed out with a sigh. "Though I heard you have a really good hand with makeup to alter your appearance."
"Tricks of light and shadow." Rebecca nodded at the other woman. "I met a makeup artist when I was in New York for a couple years, he taught me a few things."
"Handy." Natasha mused.
"So how else do we do it?" Steve cut them off before they could go into further detail about disguises.
"The answer is," Sam suddenly strode forward, dropping a manila folder with a large photograph of him in Army fatigues beside another soldier clipped to the front. "You don't."
"What's this?" Steve asked, picking it up curiously.
"Call it a resume," Sam told him.
Natasha grabbed the photograph. "Is this Bakhmula? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you?" She turned to Steve. "You didn't say he was a pararescue?"
"Is this Riley?" Steve indicated the other man with Sam in the photo.
"Yeah." Sam nodded somberly and Rebecca had the heavy feeling the other man hadn't made it home.
"I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers because of the RPGs," Natasha commented. "What did you use? A stealth chute?"
"No." Sam leaned forward opening the folder. More photos were inside of Sam wearing some type of Air Force prototype suit with mechanical wings attached to the back.
"I thought you said you were a pilot," Steve gave Sam a questioning look.
Sam smirked. "I never said pilot."
Steve grimaced and shook his head. "I can't ask you to do this Sam. You got out for a good reason."
But, Sam simply smiled. "Dude, Captain America needs my help. There's no better reason to get back in."
"We really could use the help, Steve." Rebecca pointed out, though she was reluctant to endanger Sam any more than they already had. "No one knows Sam, and they're all looking for us three. He has the best chance of getting close to Sitwell."
Steve huffed out a breath, a rueful smile on his face and shook the folder. "Where can we get our hands on one of these things?"
"The last one is at Fort Meade," Sam informed them, looking grim at the thought. "Behind three guarded gates and 12-inch steel wall."
Steve looked at Natasha who shrugged, completely undaunted, "Shouldn't be a problem." He told Sam.
"There's not many places or security measures that can keep out the Black Widow." Rebecca laughed when Sam's eyes widened at their nonchalance.
"Let's get moving then," Natasha said. "We're running on borrowed time as it is and we need to schedule a break in."
Instead of using the push handle to open the door leading to the rooftop, Steve decided throwing Jasper Sitwell into it was a better idea, sending the HYDRA Agent tumbling out into the midday sunshine. Beside Rebecca, Natasha let out a snort at the undignified yelp Sitwell expelled at the sudden display of force.
Steve ignored his discomfort. "Tell me about Zola's algorithm." He demanded, striding towards Sitwell, who was struggling to his feet. "Never heard of it!"
"What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?" Steve persisted.
"I was throwing up, I get seasick." Sitwell righted his glasses while walking backward away from the approaching Captain right up to the very edge of the roof. Rebecca knew from the stairwell they were at least twenty stories up and it would be a very long, unpleasant fall.
He staggered when he hit the ledge, but Steve grabbed him by his lapels to keep him from going over. "Is this display meant to insinuate that you're going to throw me off the roof?" Sitwell allowed a trace of arrogance to cross his face, believing the great Captain America wouldn't cross that line. "Because it's really not your style, Rogers."
Steve released his lapels and nodded. "You're right," He stepped back from a now smirking Sitwell. "It's hers." He jerked his head at Natasha, who let the corners of her mouth tip upward.
Sitwell had a split second to realize his error before Natasha hit him with a reverse spin kick that sent him screaming over the ledge.
"He definitely wet himself." Rebecca surmised, finding a little amusement at Sitwell's misfortune.
Sitwell's screaming which had decreased in volume the further he fell began to amplify and he was suddenly deposited back on the rooftop courtesy of Sam, who'd caught him mid-fall and flown him back up with his old flight suit they'd stolen from Fort Meade.
Unlike Sitwell, Sam executed a graceful landing, his wings retracting as he turned to face them. A look of sheer delight was on his face, he'd obviously missed flying.
He stepped up beside Rebecca as Steve refocused his attention on Sitwell, who held his hand up in surrender. "Zola's algorithm is a program," He gasped for air. "For choosing Insight's targets."
"What targets?" Steve pressed.
"You!" Sitwell looked pasty white after his flirtation with death. "A TV anchor in Cairo, The Secretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who is a threat to HYDRA. Now or in the future."
"So you'll just assassinate them to achieve world domination." Rebecca shook her head in disgust, catching Sitwell's gaze. "My father is a terrible human being. But you guys, you're way worse."
"Wait, in the future?" Steve frowned, not understanding. "How could it know?"
Sitwell laughed, but it wasn't from humor. "How could it not? The 21st Century is a digital book." He rose on shaky legs. "Zola taught HYDRA how to read it. Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future."
"And what then?" Steve's expression remained neutral, not a hint of emotion on his face and it seemed to dawn on Sitwell how much information he'd given up.
"Oh my God," He murmured. "Pierce is gonna kill me."
"What then?" Steve repeated his question impatiently and Sam shoved Sitwell forward to bring his attention back to the present.
"Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list," Sitwell said. "A few million at a time."
The implication of what he was saying registering with the four other people he stood. A mass genocide of anyone who would stand against HYDRA, that was Pierce's ultimate goal.
"Oh my God," Rebecca ran a hand anxiously over her face.
"We need to move," Steve said firmly. "Now."
Sam drove a dark blue, nondescript Chevy Cobalt that all five of them managed to cram into as they headed down Interstate 95. Natasha and Rebecca to the backseat, Sitwell between them while Steve rode shotgun. The longer Sitwell was their captive, the more uncomfortable and paranoid he seemed to become.
"HYDRA doesn't like leaks," He rambled, sweat beading on his brow.
Sam was the most irritated with him and snapped, "Then why don't you try sticking a cork in it?"
"Insight's launching in 16 hours." Natasha leaned forward to speak with Steve who was directly in front of her. "We're cutting it a little bit close here."
"I know," Steve agreed with a curt nod. "We'll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly."
"That sounds so much simpler than it probably is." Though unhelpful, Rebecca couldn't help but add. "I don't know about you guys, but I like having a backup plan. Any suggestions for a plan B?"
"What?!" Sitwell sputtered. "Are you crazy? That is a terrible, terrible idea."
There was a sudden heavy thud on the roof of Sam's car that had them all looking up in surprise. And then the window Rebecca sat next to exploded inward showering her with broken glass.
"Rebecca!" Steve yelled just as a silver metallic arm reached across her chest, grabbed Sitwell by the front of his shirt and hauled him out through the broken window.
Sitwell's screams could be heard as he was thrown clear across the highway divider into oncoming traffic. Then there was sickening crunch and his screams were silenced.
"Rebecca!" Steve said her name again, his seatbelt undone as he twisted around, ripped hers off and hauling her away from the window and upfront with him and Sam. There was movement on top of the car then a gun fired through the roof and Natasha dove forward as well.
"Here!" Sam kept one arm on the wheel and pushed Rebecca into his lap. Just as Steve, who was now hanging onto Natasha, shoved the car into park causing the tires to screech and whoever was on top of their car to fly forward, rolling down the hood of the car to the tarmac. He landed in a crouch, using the same metal arm that had broken the window to stabilize his movement.
"Holy shit!" Rebecca felt her eyes nearly bug out of her head. The black kevlar, the metal arm with a red Soviet Star on the shoulder, the mask; it all added up to only one man. "He's fecking real!" And her natural Irish lilt, the one she'd trained so hard out of her voice in the Academy slipped through.
Sam's chest rose and fell rapidly beneath her back as he too seemed to realize this was no ordinary man. "What the hell?"
There was no further time to react as Sam's Cobalt was hit from behind with a gunmetal gray S.H.I.E.L.D. issued hummer, pushing the car directly towards the Winter Soldier.
Rebecca scrambled out of Sam's lap, diving into the backseats again and jerking her Beretta free from its holster on her hip.
The roof flattened towards her a couple inches as once again, the Winter Soldier was on top of the car. Releasing the safety on her gun, Rebecca lay down against the seat and began firing through the roof just as the metal arm smashed through the top of the car and ripped the steering wheel out of Sam's hands.
"Shit!"
Natasha also had her sidearm out and began to fire at the Winter Soldier. He jumped off the top of their car, landing on the hood of the hummer behind them as Sam's car began to careen out of control. The hummer hit them from behind a second time, sending the car into the opposite barricade and making it wobble unsteadily.
"Hang on!" Steve pressed his Shield against the window of his door. "Get Rebecca!"
Rebecca sat up and fell right into Sam's outstretched arms. Steve kept Natasha tucked into his side and used his one free arm to grab Sam around the waist just as car tipped dangerously on its side. Using his car door and his shield to break their fall, the Cobalt flipped down the highway as they slid at a slower pace behind it. Rebecca and Sam were thrown clear, rolling painfully against the asphalt before their momentum ceased. Rebecca's already broken ribs were on fire and she moaned pitifully where she landed.
Natasha and Steve slid further ahead of them on his shield and the broken car door.
The hummer stopped several yards away from them and the Winter Soldier was already walking in their direction, pausing only long enough to accept a rifle from the STRIKE team that had driven the hummer.
Steve shoved Natasha clear just the Winter Soldier fired a missile that hit Steve's shield, protecting him from the explosion but the kickback sent Steve flying off the highway to the side street below and the ensuing crashing sounds meant he'd landed right into traffic.
But they didn't have time to worry about him as the STRIKE team had assembled behind the Winter Soldier and proceeded to open fire with AK-47s. Rebecca, Natasha, and Sam had no choice but to take cover behind cars that had been abandoned when their owners had realized there was no ordinary car chase happening on the Interstate.
Natasha drew the fire towards herself, taking several shots at the Winter Soldier before she made her way across the opposite lanes disappearing to the streets below like Steve had. Sam joined Rebecca behind a Ford Focus as she took shots at the STRIKE team instead.
"I hope she knows what she's doing," Rebecca winced as the Winter Soldier jumped down after Natasha, who was returning gunfire from below by the sounds of it.
The STRIKE team began to repel down to the street below as well and both Sam and Rebecca came out from their cover when they heard rapid machine gun fire and the familiar ping of bullets on vibranium. Armed with only a knife, Sam quickly came up behind one of the remaining members, kicking him in the back of the knee, slicing upwards as the soldier turned, cutting his gun free from the shoulder harness before Sam sent him flying over the barricade below.
"Nice." Rebecca didn't have time to say much else, instead, she leaned over and took out one of the team members firing at Steve. Sam did the same just as Steve began to build up a head of steam, taking out the team member with the largest gun.
"Go!" Rebecca urged him.
"We got this!" Sam added, firing of other members who had taken cover when they realized they were being shot at from above.
Steve gave them both a long look, then nodded and took off running, hopefully after wherever Natasha and her lethal pursuit had disappeared to.
"Still happy you signed up?" Rebecca said to Sam, reloading a fresh magazine into her Beretta. She inhaled, eyed the man hiding behind the blue compact and as she exhaled, pulled the trigger.
He'd been too focused on Sam and hadn't ducked down in time and Rebecca made the kill shot.
"I got this!" Sam repeated, focusing on another STRIKE member hiding behind a van. When the shot was good, Sam tossed her the AK-47. "Don't move." He sprinted for the crushed Cobalt.
It took him a moment but he managed to pry the trunk open and get out his flight suit. Once he'd strapped it on, the wings extended and he ran for her. "Hang on!"
"How I'm not dead yet is a mystery to me," She muttered, but she holstered her Beretta and held her left hand up for him to grab. He pulled her up against him and they flew down over the expressway bridge, following the sounds of sirens and frantic civilian screaming.
"Found them!" Sam dove low, setting her on the ground several yards from where Steve and the Winter Soldier were facing off and then flew up, picking up enough speed to hit the Winter Soldier from behind with a sharp kick to the back.
"Natasha!" Rebecca spied her down against a parked car, clutching her bleeding collarbone. She rushed towards the other woman, setting the AK down and pulling the leather of her jacket aside to assess her injury.
"Second time the bastard has shot me," Natasha grunted. "Went straight through."
"We need to-" Rebecca started but Natasha was shoving to her feet, grabbing the discarded missile gun.
"Steve." Natasha hefted it up, took aim at the Winter Soldier and fired.
It wasn't a direct hit and it allowed their enemy to disappear in a cloud of smoke.
Steve turned to them in surprise, and Rebecca could see the anguish and confusion in his eyes. He didn't even try to run as the sirens grew louder and several black nondescript vehicles surrounded them.
"Toast," Natasha muttered.
Brock Rumlow and the rest of the STRIKE team emerged from the vehicles, shouting for them to drop their weapons and get on their knees.
Rebecca put her hands up and to her horror, it was David who rushed forward with handcuffs. His expression was hard and resolute as he removed her Beretta and cuffed her. He didn't say a single word, his actions spoke volumes. Natasha had been right, he'd been turned.
"Traitor," Rebecca spoke low enough so only he could hear, and would swear he flinched, but seconds later he shoved her forward towards the prisoner transport.
Sam and Natasha were already being loaded inside. Steve seemed to be in a daze of some sort as Rumlow personally escorted him in behind her.
David unceremoniously shoved her inside, which made Sam snarl but there wasn't much else he could do. Natasha looked resigned when Rebecca sat down across from her. Once the Captain was inside, they closed the heavy steel doors, leaving them with only two armed guards inside. After all, they were sufficiently restrained and all the work they'd just done, even dragging Sam into this, had been for nothing.
It was the end of line.