Chapter 7- Game of Lies
Well. Mal blinked. She hadn't expected that. She couldn't help it-she started laughing, ignoring the pain in her side. They must be truly desperate to resort to such implausible tactics. "Do you really expect me to believe that bullshit?"
The doctor frowned, his irritation spiking. "Your belief is irrelevant. It is the truth. And as much as I'd love to stand here arguing, Strucker will be here soon. So keep your mouth shut if you wish for your vengeance."
Mal raised an eyebrow, amused. She was going to kill him, his fate was sealed from the moment he'd helped torture her. But not yet. This was too entertaining. "Who said anything about vengeance?"
The glare he shot her could have boiled eggs."Spare me the games. You died, and now you're here, facing dozens of trained killers in the faint hope you can take from them what they took from you."
Mal noticed he said "them", not "us". He didn't see himself as one of them. Hmmmmm…
Mal flicked a hand in his direction, drops of blood splattering on the floor. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."
The doctor rolled his eyes, and Mal would have snapped his neck then and there for his audacity, had two soldiers not walked past the cell. Mal flinched involuntarily, sensing their fervent emotions spiraling every which way, thoughts of boredom and impatience and violence and-
A small cough brought her back to reality. The doctor was staring at her, his face slack. He'd noticed her reaction, she was sure, and now his mind had just gone curiously blank.
He knew something was off. All the more reason to kill him now...
He coughed again, pretending not to have noticed what he clearly had. "I do what I must to survive. In the decision of your experimentation it was my life or yours, and I value my life above all else, for if I die I cannot exact my own vengeance against Strucker. Right now you have a choice. You can trust me, and I will convince Strucker you never truly died, and you are fully capable of Project Phoenix. You can hide beneath their noses, waiting for the right time to strike and destroy Hydra. Or you can kill me, and be killed yourself, succeeding to be nothing but a mere hindrance to Hydra, long forgotten in the coming years. Your choice."
Mal narrowed her eyes. There was something about his wording that just wasn't...right. But he had a point.
"What makes you think you can trust me?"
The doctor repressed a smile, relief slipping through the mask on his mind. "You want revenge, as do I. For now, our interests are aligned."
She would kill him. But not now. He could be useful.
Mal grinned, well aware she looked like a feral animal, wild and dangerous. "This will be fun."
Mal flatly refused to leave solitary confinement and the Doctor apparently hadn't seen any point in arguing. He had raised an eyebrow when she insisted the Winter Soldier stay guarding the cell, but after a brief staring contest he'd huffed and stalked out. Mal had to resist the urge to giggle. Nice to know that even as an insane zombie she could still annoy people without saying a word.
Hours slowly ticked by. At one point a silent old lady came in to bandage Mal's bruised ribs and cuts. Mal suspected the Doctor had arranged that and had to squash a small sense of gratitude. Had it been a bulky man or even a scientist who'd come in to sew her up, she'd probably killed him.
Mal briefly wondered what would happen to the old lady when Hydra was done with her, then decided she didn't care.
No food came, but Mal wasn't hungry. Her head hurt too much.
The ache had started when Mal tried to test her limits. Not counting the Soldier there were three people-two men and a woman-in close proximity. Their minds were crowded but sluggish, strangely reminding her of pea soup (she'd tried it once on a mission in Brazil and never intended to try it again). Mal pulled away from them before she could focus on individual emotions, because those were the ones that hurt, stabbing her head like needles. When she tried to "zoom out" and sense how many were in the facility altogether, her nose began to bleed and the migraines started.
The Winter Soldier's mind was like a beacon, an eye of icy peace in a raging storm of emotions. Mal soon found that when she focused on him, she didn't feel anyone else and her headaches faded.
Interesting.
A day passed. Mal's dreams were filled with an inky darkness that rose up and suffocated her. She gained more than one bruise from thrashing around in her sleep.
Another day passed. Mal decided she was hungry. And she wanted a shower. And new clothes.
On the third day, Mal had visitors. A boy and a girl, bringing greasy but delicious fast food. The boy's mind was fast and impatient, though he had a playful smile that Mal deemed "cute". The girl was the opposite, her emotions steady and calm, her face serious.
Mal immediately to a liking to them, not that she would ever admit it. There was a shadow on both of their minds, twisting their emotions, that Mal could relate to.
Revenge.
On the fourth day, Strucker walked past the cell. He didn't even notice the Winter Soldier standing guard, his mind too curious, puzzling over something.
Mal bit her cheek until she drew blood.
On the seventh day, the Doctor came. His mind was carefully arranged to be empty, like he was trying very hard not to feel.
How the hell did he find out so fast?
Mal felt cheated. Her one advantage, already known and neutralized. How'd he even guess? Mind-reading wasn't exactly commonplace.
She really wanted to kill him. He was already a threat. He knew too much. But his death now would accomplish nothing.
"It is time for your training to begin."
He set a stack of fabric on her bed-new clothes, thank god-and walked out, leaving the door open. Mal distantly heard him speak to the Soldier, but was too busy scrutinizing her outfit to overhear.
It was very...black. Black cleats, black skintight leggings, black long sleeved tunic. It was styled innocently enough to be inconspicuous to anyone who wasn't looking too closely. The fabric wasn't anything she recognized, but she was positive it was some version of Kevlar. She was an asset now. They would want to keep her alive for as long as necessary.
Mal dressed quickly and left the room for the first time in a week. The Winter Soldier was waiting, presumably to lead her to wherever it was she was suppose to go. His mind still wasn't moving. He barely spared her a glance as he led her down the hall. For some reason, this peeved Mal to no end, but she shoved her irritation down. She had other things to worry about.
Strucker was waiting with several others in a large stone room. There were mats on the floor and indentions in the walls. A training room. Which meant the others were her opponents.
Mal recognized the girl and boy who had visited her. They looked genuinely pleased to see her, despite the fact she had refused to speak a word to them.
There were two other men in the room. One was fairly young, scrawny, and looked like he'd never seen the light of day. Mal felt strong waves of curiosity coming off of him, though he barely glanced at her, preferring to gawk at the Winter Soldier.
The other man Mal hated instantly. He wolf-whistled when he saw her, a smirk on his face. He looked like one of those men from American cologne commercials and his mind was lewd. Like, gross lewd.
Strucker stepped forward, grinning. Mal was so busy trying not to rip out his throat out it took a second for his words to register.
"Welcome to Project Phoenix."
Mwahahahaha! (Rubs hands together) Now we're getting to the juicy parts.
I apologize for the extended absence. With school starting soon, updates will be infrequent. All I can promise is that I will finish this story, even if it takes years.
On a more positive note, I'm writing another story! Or at least, I'm planning to write another story. I have this idea...and it's probably going to tie into this story at some point...what do you guys think of an Annie version of Iron Man? Where Stark has to temporarily house an orphan for good publicity? And then Hydra gets involved?
Yes, no, maybe? Send me your thoughts!
And I'd like to thank the Guest reviewer who graciously critiqued my story. I don't have a Beta, so all comments & criticism are enormously helpful AND appreciated. (And to answer your question: Loki wants to destroy/weaken the Avengers so he has Hel locate someone capable of doing so (Mal) and gives her powers. If I ever get to a sequel story, its probably going to center around that plotline.)