So I've been doing some major revising (especially in the last chapter), and I've changed the "Talon Initiative" to "Project Phoenix" just because it sounds cooler. Also, I realized that "Surviving Winter" was a little cliche and renamed the story Rising from Ashes. I'm sorry if this upsets some of you, but in order to have the story end up the way I want it to I needed to make a few minor changes. Enjoy!
"Seventy years ago, the colorful Captain America and his allies formed a team that nearly destroyed our entire organization. Thankfully, Hydra has supporters everywhere and was merely forced into hiding, waiting for the opportune moment to come into the light. From the ashes of our defeat, we have risen…"
Mal tuned out Strucker's monologue, instead focusing on her abilities and taking in the situation as she had been taught. The Winter Soldier was guarding the door, close enough to step in if she lunged for Strucker, but far away enough that no one but the scrawny boy noticed him.
Hmmmm...the boy. Somewhere in his late teens, early twenties, if Mal had to guess. Not trained in combat. His fingers were long and slender, gently tapping a rhythm against his leg. Probably typed a lot, was familiar with computers...a hacker? And the boy was still staring at the Winter Soldier...no, his prosthetic arm. Mal could feel his curiosity burning within him. Not scared, curious. So a muscle-bound killer didn't intimidate him. And he was interested the Soldier's prosthetic...perhaps he had a degree in mechanics.
The twins...Mal briefly glanced at them. They had been nice enough to visit her and weren't offended she didn't speak to them. The boy looked like he'd had some basic training and stuck close to the girl, protecting her. He was probably older. He looked to have some basic field training. The girl was the calm one, the decision maker, the brains. If Mal needed their loyalty it would be her she had to convince. They both were focused intently on Strucker, drinking in his every word. Bribery might sway them; they didn't seem to be the type frightened by threats.
The third one was older, late forties, early fifties. Definitely trained in combat. Blonde. Handsome. Like Prince Charming's older, better looking brother that Cinderella had an affair with. And he was THAT type of guy. Even now, he was eying her with a smirk. Mal was surprised she couldn't smell the hormones. And for a guy that old...gross. Mal pegged his weakness immediately. He was obviously ruled by his dick.
"...and now, with the Phase One a success, Phase Two will begin immediately. Once your training is complete, you will be the new fist of Hydra!"
Fear. Pure, undiluted fear. It was gone as soon as it'd come, but Mal would have recognized it anywhere. But why was the Winter Soldier afraid of Strucker? His memories had been completely erased.
But if they weren't...if he remembered even the smallest bit...he would be a formidable ally. If she could convince him to trust her.
Of course, priorities first. Survive, plan, then manipulate. And kill Strucker somewhere along the way.
Gross Charming stepped forward, addressing Strucker. "I'll need six months to whip them up in the basics. If they don't pass the final evaluation, they're of no use to us and we'll need a new batch."
His voice was like oil, slick and black. It betrayed nothing, but Mal sensed his faint amusement. He reveled in his power, knowing they were disposable and he was their superior.
Damn bully.
Strucker nodded at his statement. "Hail Hydra."
Mal automatically saluted, a motion performed before she even realized what she was doing. It was an instinct. Conducted on command, like a dog.
The others saluted, even the Winter Soldier. Strucker looked around, satisfied, and swept out of the room.
"Alright, bitches, let's get started. I'm Lieutenant Pyro, your supervising officer. That means if you so much as step a toe out of line, I have the authority to put a bullet through your head. Clear? Great. First off: offensive hand-to-hand. I'll be taking measure of each of your fighting skills individually." A sick grin marred Pyro's features. Mal knew what was coming before he even said it. "Let's see what you can do, Agent Malevolent."
Amazing. She hadn't even said a word and she already had an enemy. One that hated her and was attracted to her. Useful, but dangerous. Like a panther.
Hmmmm...any scientific facility worth its salt had caged animals for non human experimentation. Maybe should could convince them to give her a panther...or at least a cat. A cat that could scratch Strucker's eyes out would be nice.
Wait...there was something important...oh, yeah, Pyro. Fight or flight?
No way was she backing down. She still had some pride left.
Okay, win or lose?
Winning would lead to respect from the others, possibly jealousy. And Pyro would be livid. He'd hold a grudge for sure, and since her life was practically in his hands…
Considering my life hangs in the balance, shouldn't I be a little bit more concerned about this?
She could worry about possible suicidal tendencies later. That and lunch. Right now, she had a fight to lose.
Please, not the face. Broken noses hurt.
Anticipation was thick in the air as Mal stepped up on one of the mats. Pyro cracked his knuckles theoretically and adopted the standard hand-to-hand combat stance. Wonderful. A dick who was smart enough to do it by the book.
He acted first, barely waiting for Mal to get into position before swinging his meaty fist towards her face. A blow that would have broken her nose, had she not ducked just in time. Mal feinted a hit towards his kneecaps, but instead aimed a jab in his solar plexus. He swiftly avoided the strike and retaliated with his own.
And so it continued. Mal managed to stay on her feet by avoiding the majority of his attacks, which seemed to frustrate him to no end. Her pathetic blows had next to no effect on him, though to be fair she hadn't practiced in weeks.
Sweat dripping from her brow, she avoided a perfectly executed roundhouse kick. Her decision to lose seemed laughable now, for he was clearly the better fighter. But her loss had to be on her terms. If they ever ended up fighting for real, she needed a variable she could manipulate. She needed him to believe she had a specific weakness. He aimed a elbow jab to her left side, and it took all Mal's willpower not to deflect it. The hit knocked her to her knee, and he flipped her so she was pinned to the mat. Then he got to work, vicious glee radiating from him as blow after blow impacted her body. There was a snap as her shoulder jerked out of place, and at least two of her ribs fractured, though she couldn't be sure. The pain was a little distracting. Just as darkness crept to the edges of her vision, the violent blows ceased.
"Terrible form and weak strikes. This is precisely what you shouldn't do. Get out. I don't want to see your ugly mug until you're in fighting shape."
Mal pushed herself to her feet and staggered towards the door, ignoring the twin's and the hacker's horror (honestly, did she really look that bad?) and Pyro's subtle pinch to her rear. She'd skin him alive for that. Later.
Everything after that was a little fuzzy. She followed the Winter Soldier-who apparently had been demoted from super assassin to escort-to a large room that resembled a laboratory rather than an infirmary. The Soldier waited outside while the room's only occupant tutted and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. Doc didn't seem surprised by her bloodied state or her outfit. He simply gestured for her to lie down on an uncomfortably cold cot.
"You managed to restrain yourself. I must say I'm surprised."
Mal stiffened. He knew. He knew about her powers, and now this. How did he always know?
"Be still." He braced his hands on her shoulder, then jerked, the joints snapping back in place.
The pain was excruciating, but Mal stayed silent, running through scenarios in her head. Then it all clicked.
She'd been blind to all the clues. His strange wording. His sudden alliance with her. His knowledge of far more than he should know.
Okay, so the idea was a little outrageous, but all the clues fit. And if you eliminated the impossible, whatever remains – however improbable – must be the truth.
Only one way to find out.
Mal cleared her throat, speaking for the first time in days. "I think we're both full of surprises, Asgardian."