A/N. Hello everyone! Here's the next action-packed chapter :D I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Fifteen

Once Tania and everyone else had changed into their uniforms (except for Steve), they split up. Natasha and Fury went to the airport to intercept one of the World Security Council members. Before they left, Tania hugged Natasha good-bye with a whisper to be careful. Natasha had just smirked and walked away.

Hill, Sam, Steve, and Tania piled into a small black car with Hill at the wheel and Sam in shot gun. Steve and Tania sat at the back, thighs pressed together, hands intertwined, and her head on his shoulder. It was finally setting in that they were off to fight SHIELD - the very organization that had brought the Avengers together. People that they knew were going to be at the Triskelion and on those helicarriers. Fury had said to treat everyone they encountered as Hydra, but Tania couldn't do that. She was not one to shoot first and ask questions later.

Steve had grudgingly accepted the fact that there was no other way to complete their mission successfully and efficiently without taking out any and all hostiles along the way. Anyone still on the helicarriers when they crashed…

They had to assume to be Hydra. Fury's intel suggested that at least %80 of the agents tasked to Project Insight were Hydra. Tania could only hope that %100 of them were and that those that weren't were somehow spared.

"You know where you're going?" Sam asked and Tania looked up. He was speaking to Hill.

"I've been to the Smithsonian before," she replied, checking her rearview mirror. "It's quite the tourist attraction."

Tania craned her neck to check Steve's reaction. He was staring off into space, lost in thought. "Hey," she whispered, nudging his leg with hers. "Steve."

He blinked and looked at her. "Yeah?"

It wasn't like him to zone out right before a mission. He was usually so focused that if someone said something not mission-related, he would often misunderstand. Tony teased him mercilessly about it. Tania wanted to ask Steve about it, but in close quarters with two other people didn't seem like the right time. "Nothing." She shrugged. "Just… making sure you're still with us." She could feel his gaze boring into the top of her head for a couple seconds before he looked away.

They pulled up to the Smithsonian a while later, Nirvana playing on the radio. "Well, you can cross that off your list," Tania said, unbuckling her seatbelt and untangling herself from Steve.

"Remind me when we get home," he grunted, stepping out of the car.

Sam rolled down his window and poked his head out. "Remember, the museum closed about thirty minutes ago so there's probably still people in there. Maria was able to get a SHIELD techie she trusts disable the security cameras so you don't have to worry about those. It's an easy in and out standard op-"

"We know, Sam," Tania chuckled, crossing her arms. "This isn't our first break in."

Sam grinned. "Just tryin' on the Cap helmet. See what it's like leading the Avengers."

"And?"

He shrugged. "You can't replace Captain America. But seriously, be careful."

"We'll be fine," Steve assured, coming around to join Tania on the other side of the car after having grabbed his shield from the trunk. "Back in ten."

"Fifteen."

He glanced at Tania in surprise, then nodded at Sam. "Right. Fifteen."

Sam looked like he wanted to ask questions, but he didn't, for which Tania was grateful. Instead, he said, "we'll ditch the car and meet you out back."

Steve nodded and the car pulled out of the parking lot. He turned to Tania, who stared at him. "Ready?" He asked.

For a moment, it didn't look like she was going to answer. Then she nodded and the two of them headed for the Smithsonian. The front doors were open so they walked right in. Tania took out the security guard at the information desk with her ICER and they stole his keys.

She waited until they were almost at the Captain America exhibit to say anything. "You did promise to take me here on day," she mused, trying to take everything in without slowing down.

He laughed without humour. "Didn't picture it like this, right?"

"No." They lapsed into silence again, listening for footsteps and speed-walking. "Hey." She stopped, leaning heavily on her staff.

He turned to her, brows furrowed in confusion. "What is it?"

"Are you gonna be okay in there?" She nodded at the Captain America exhibit just ahead.

His stare hardened. "I've been going there almost every day for a while now. I can handle it." He pivoted and started walking again, this time fast enough that she couldn't keep up.

"Hey! You big oaf," she grumbled under her breath as she hobbled after him. They crossed the threshold between exhibits and found themselves in the darkened history of Steve Rogers.

There was a big panel on the right wall with a large quote from Steve himself, situated right next to a painting of him in uniform saluting. The exhibit was punctuated with quotes, pieces of art, panels, artifacts, tidbits, photos, and videos. It was everything about Captain America she could ever want to know.

Except the focus on Steve Rogers. Nowhere in the exhibit did it mention that he loved art, nor did it mention how belittled and used he felt after Erskine was killed and he was turned into a show-boy. None of the facts pasted on the walls stated that Steve was always losing track of his keys or that he had never danced with a woman before going down. Nowhere did it say that his favourite sport was baseball or that his favourite book was The Wizard of Oz. Nowhere did it say that he learned a lot about hair and makeup from the showgirls he used to tour with. Nowhere did it say that while he often fought bullies, he was also quite the troublemaker (mostly due to Bucky's influence).

Captain America was not just a person to them; he was a symbol, something more than human. To make him relatable would be downplaying his heroic status. At least, that must be what the curators thought when putting this exhibit together.

And amidst all the red, white, and blue, nowhere did it say that Hydra never died.

Steve found his suit easily enough. He'd been here enough times to have the whole place memorized. A mannequin wore the uniform, holding the old shield he'd used the very first time he'd gone behind enemy lines. On either side of him were other mannequins wearing the uniforms (or replicas of them) of the Howling Commandos.

Tania walked up to the mannequin wearing Bucky's deep blue jacket. The sign beneath said that the above uniform was a replica because these had been the clothes that Barnes was wearing when he died. His body was never found.

A lump rose in her throat and she looked up, past the mannequin, to the mural of Bucky on the wall, standing at Steve's shoulder. He was handsome and his face was set in grim determination. If there had ever been any doubt that the Winter Soldier was Bucky, it fled from her quickly.

Steve had said that Zola had managed to experiment on Bucky during the war, which must have helped him survive the fall from the train. How many times Steve had woken up from a nightmare that he'd failed Bucky again, she couldn't count. He'd recounted the story enough times that she could paint a picture of every moment.

The train had been behind enemy lines. Bucky had fallen into enemy territory and the enemy had found him, dragged him back to base, experimented on-

She choked on a sob. God. Bucky, what did they do to you? She had never met Bucky, but she knew enough about him that this information hurt. She'd spoken to his gravestone enough times, sat upon the earth that covered his empty coffin, listened as Steve regaled stories of the Avengers to a slab of rock with his best friend's name carved into it. Steve had once told her that he thought Bucky would like her. She had thought that she would like him too. Anyone who recognized Steve for what he was before he big and tall had to be someone worth knowing. He had been everything to Steve; had been his whole world after his mom died. Bucky had been with him since they were kids until one day… he'd been stolen right in front of Steve.

Steve's pain was raw and deep and so powerful that she often swore she could feel an echo of it in her soul as she cradled him, trying to sing him back to sleep. Losing Bucky was one of the only things that had ever made Steve cry.

They… Zola and whatever other bastards he'd been working with… had kept Bucky alive this long - kept him young. There was only one other person who had been alive as long as Bucky had and still looked the same as when they went down and that person was Steve. He'd been frozen in ice. Did that mean that Bucky…?

But he'd been active for at least the past fifty years. The only possible way for that to work would be if he was frozen and unfrozen constantly… as needed.

The thought brought bile up her throat and she swallowed it down, tasting the acid. How could they? How could they?

A hand on her shoulder made her jump violently. She stumbled for a moment but regained her balance with the help of the staff, heart pounding, to see Steve, now dressed in his old uniform with his shield on his arm. The suit was dirty and wrinkled as if no one had washed it since he woke up. No one probably had.

"You look…" She trailed off, unsure how to articulate words after being brought back to Earth so suddenly.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically. He was steadily not looking at Bucky's picture, but his eyes were red-rimmed, just like hers probably were. It hit her then, that this was the uniform Bucky knew Captain America to wear. It was the suit Bucky had last seen Steve in and the one Steve had worn when Bucky fell. It was the uniform Steve had died in.

She took a deep breath. "We'll get him back," she said confidently, wiping at her tears. "No matter what it takes. We'll find a way."

He blinked - then his lips cracked a small smile. "I love you."

She touched his jaw, brushing her fingers down his chin. "I love you too."

He nodded, hitching his shield higher on his arm. "Let's go."

The walk to the Triskelion was long, but calming. The long silence was filled with Hill chatting with her inside man on the comms about intercepting the satellite dish as a distraction to the techies in the surveillance room.

Sam was a great comfort. He was their eyes in the sky, transport, and an overall funny guy. He doubled his efforts to make everyone smile and succeeded. He had tons of stories about the stupid stuff he, Riley, and his fellow paratroopers got up to when they weren't on duty. From drunken dares at bars to playing poker in another soldier's bedroom to pranking the new recruits, Sam had no shortage of tales to tell.

By the time they reached the Triskelion, Tania had stopped thinking of the mission altogether. But then suddenly there it stood, looming over them like Mount Doom, and her smile washed away.

This was a high-stakes mission. Sure, she'd done some crazy shit, but if one thing went wrong, millions of people would die. Not to mention the fact that Bucky was somewhere up there, waiting for them, and Tania for a fact that Steve would never leave without him. They had no plan for bringing in the Winter Soldier. Their only hope was if Steve could get him to remember, even for a second, and make him doubt, then maybe Bucky would stop fighting.

Sam flew them each up to the roof of the Triskelion one at a time, where Hill used her security clearance to get them inside. From there, they made their way to the surveillance room, which was locked manually. Hill's inside man disrupted the signals emitting from the building to get the attention of the techies on the other side of the door. Hill and Sam raised their guns while Steve stood, intimidatingly, in the front, Tania bringing up the rear, ICER in hand.

The door opened and a shocked, skinny-looking tech stood there with wide eyes. Steve stepped forward with a polite nod. "Excuse us."

The tech nodded and raised his arms, backing away to grant them entrance. Sam and Tania kept their weapons up while Hill immediately started manipulating the P.A. system. Steve took off his mask and stepped up to the plate, adjusting the microphone for his impressive height. He nodded at Hill, who flicked the switch.

The speakers crackled to life. "Attention all SHIELD agents," Steve boomed into the microphone, "this is Steve Rogers. You've heard a lot about me over the last few days. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down."

Tania eyed the many screens lining the console at which Steve stood. On each screen was a different room in the Triskelion. In each room, everyone stopped to listen, turning their heads curiously to the ceiling.

"But I think it's time you knew the truth." He paused as if trying to gather his thoughts before making an announcement that would shift the worlds of every person here. "SHIELD is not what we thought it was. It's been taken over by Hydra. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The STRIKE and Insight crew are Hydra as well. I don't know how many more. But I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you."

A man in the corner of the room stood and sprinted for the door. Sam shot him down with two bullets.

Tania did not look anywhere but at the wall ahead of Steve.

"They almost have what they want: absolute control," Steve continued. "They shot Nick Fury… and it won't end there. If you launch those helicarriers today, Hydra will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way. Unless we stop them.

"I know I'm asking a lot. But the price of freedom is high. Always has been. And it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not."

Leave it to Steve to come up with the best, most inspiring speeches. Sam seemed to agree. He walked up to Steve with a half-smile on his face. "Did you write that down first? Or was it off the top of your head?"

Steve half-smiled back and slipped on his helmet. "I just winged it."

Sam laughed and slapped Steve on the back. "C'mon. We gotta get to those 'carriers."

"Clear the room!" Hill shouted, plopping down in the office chair with a flourish. "Everybody out!"

The techs began filing out the door. Two of them grabbed the one Hydra agent and carried him away, groaning and bleeding. A couple of the techies hesitated. A redheaded woman with freckles all over her face stepped forward. "Director Hill? We'd like to help."

"There's nothing you can do here," Hill stated, looking up from the console to meet the agent's eyes. "And this place isn't safe. If I were you, I'd get out while I still can."

The agents glanced at each other.

"That's an order," Hill barked.

The agents nodded sharply and made for the exit.

"Maybe the last one I'll ever give," Maria mumbled under her breath. Louder, she spun to face the trio. "You guys need to get on those helicarriers. Anyone who's not Hydra should either be fighting them or running for their lives."

Tania sighed, replacing the ICER in her holster. She felt a bit better about shooting down those helicarriers, at least. "Any idea where Bucky is?"

Hill turned back to the console, typing furiously. "Nope. Surveillance isn't picking up anything but I do, I'll let you know."

Steve dipped his head. "Thank you, Director."

She smiled. It was the first one Tania had ever seen from her. "I like the sound of that. Too bad I'm currently Director of nothing. Good luck."

The three of them ran to the stairs. The elevator was still out of order from when Pierce had tried to bring Steve in. Had that only been yesterday? Or was it the day before? She couldn't remember.

They made it to the flight deck just as Hill's stern voice came across the comms. "They're initiating launch."

Steve, Sam, and Tania burst onto the flight deck sprinting.

"Hey, Cap!" Sam called. "How do we know the good guys from the bad guys?"

Valid question.

"If they're shooting at you, they're bad," came Steve's response.

She forgot how sassy he could get when on a mission.

Sam clenched his hands into fists and jabbed both elbows outward. His pack lit up and unfolded into a pair of metal wings. He grabbed Tania underneath the arms and took off as Steve jumped onto the helicarrier below.

Sam and Tania soared through the air, gliding evenly over the landscape. "Good thing we got that practice in," Sam joked from above.

She snorted. "Good thing I trust you. Don't drop me, Wilson, or I swear…"

He laughed. "You're in good hands, Banks. What do you say? Carrier two or carrier three?"

"Three."

"You got it. Hang on to your hat!" They twirled to the right in a smooth turn that led them straight to the third carrier. Before they could get too close, the guns at the bottom and top of the ship started firing at them. Sam swerved out of the way. Tania had been fine up until this point, but now she was feeling a bit sick. "Hey, Cap!" Sam called. "I found those bad guys you were talking about!"

"You guys okay?"

"I'm feeling a little airsick," she confessed as Sam continued to execute evasive maneuvers.

"Sorry, Tania. I've never really done this with a passenger before."

"I can see why."

"You get barf on these wings…"

"You set me down and I won't have to."

"Deal."

A bullet nearly grazed her foot as Sam flipped them backward. "Your weight is throwing me off my game, Banks."

"You calling me fat, Wilson?"

Sam laughed outright, swooping down between the guns on the deck of helicarrier number three. "Wouldn't dream of it." He let her go a few feet from the deck and she dropped into a roll. About half a dozen agents in military gear approached her on all sides.

She shifted so that her weight was distributed evenly on both legs. The extra dose she'd taken before the mission made sure that her thigh was still numb and harder to maneuver, but there was no pain. She would have to make do.

She dove behind a stack of crates as bullets peppered the floor behind her. She pulled out her ICER and waited for the firing to stop. When it did, she popped up from behind the crates and fired, calling upon all of those lessons with Clint. Three of them went down before she had to duck again. She had eight rounds left and three goons. She could do this.

Something metal rolled toward her crate. She could hear it clanking against the metal of the deck. She didn't know what it was and she didn't want to find out. She rolled out from behind the crate and fired three more times. Two men went down but she missed the third and he began firing back. The crates beside her exploded and she blew backward. She salvaged the fall into a roll and came up with her ICER raised.

They both fired.

She was the better shot.

He went down with a cry and she went up with a breath of "yes!"

Thank you, Hawkeye.

"Thanks, Barton," Viola uttered, breathing hard, back pressed against the wall.

Beside her, also panting, Clint peeked around the corner. He wrenched himself back just as the edge exploded in dust and gunshots fired from the other side of the compound. "Not a problem," he ground out through gritted teeth. "Have you managed to get into contact with Hinamori?"

"No," she huffed. "Radio silence."

Clint cursed. "And it's not the comms?"

"Not that I can tell. There might be a device somewhere around here that's interfering with the frequency, but there's no way to tell. He might just be ignoring us."

The bullets stopped and Clint leaned around the corner to fire back. After a few well-placed shots, he twisted back just in time to avoid more bullets. There were too many of them to take out in the few seconds he had to lean over without getting shot. "I think it's time to call for back-up."

Viola met his gaze and nodded. He handed her the gun and they switched positions. As she continued the firefight, Clint held a hand to his ear. "JARVIS?"

"Shall I call the Avengers, Agent Barton?"

"If you'd be so kind."

"Line four is still not secure."

"JARVIS!" Clint snapped, irritated.

A shrill ringing was the AI's only response. Eventually, something clicked. "Y'ello?"

"Tony!" Clint barked in relief. "Tony, I am in some deep shit."

There were some grunts on the other end. And… repulsors? "Join the club, bird brain. Thor and I are kind of-woah! Uh, trying to wrangle the Hulk at the moment."

"What?" Clint ducked as the brick above his head exploded, dust raining down on both him and Viola.

"Run!" She commanded, pivoting and sprinting away from the firefight.

Clint was hot on her heels. "What's wrong with Bruce?" He yelled into his comms, desert sand shooting up around him.

"He may have… been exposed to some chemicals he shouldn't have."

"What happened to that contingency plan you were working on?"

"It's not finished yet. And I need Bruce's input on the next part."

"Okay, well what about the rest of the team?"

"I assume if they're not answering that that's answer enough."

Clint's blood ran cold. "Are they on a mission or something?" He followed Viola into a concrete building on its last legs.

"I'm out of ammo!" She cried, tossing the gun aside. "We need to get back to our room." That was where Clint's bow was.

He nodded in agreement. "Follow me." He ran for the stairs, taking them three at a time.

Tony was spewing information in his good ear. "They tell you about Hydra?"

"Yeah."

"Well CNN is saying something about helicarriers being launched into the sky without government permission. I have a feeling some Hydra-type shit is about to go down, if it isn't going down already."

That made sense. If Steve, Nat, and Tania had exposed Hydra to the rest of SHIELD, a war would be going on within the organization. Someone who'd been assigned to this mission must have been Hydra and since their cover was blown, they'd blown the covers of everyone else here. So no one was interfering with the comms, but their handler was most probably Hydra.

Great.

Clint and Viola reached the roof of the building. A line of laundry connected this house to the next. From there, they could parkour to their house a block or so down. Without waiting for an explanation, Viola unwrapped her headscarf and twisted it around her fists. She placed the scarf on the wire and leaped off, zip lining to the next building.

Clint really wished he had his bow. "Keep me posted," he told Tony as he grabbed a pipe lying off to the side. He held it in both hands on either side of the wire and jumped. The wind whistled in his ears.

"That goes for you too, Barton."

"I shall inform you of any changes," Thor promised.

"Thanks, guys." Clint's boots hit the wall and he pushed off, flipping over the edge and onto the roof. He flung the pipe to the side and sped across the building, launching himself over the edge, across the gap, and rolling onto the next roof. Viola was a house ahead of him, sprinting surprisingly fast for a woman in a heavy black dress under the Middle Eastern sun.

He hopped onto the beam at the roof's edge, running as comfortably as if he were running on a wide surface. He cartwheeled and then flipped over the gap between the next two buildings, landed harshly on his heels before he kept going. There was constant gunfire behind him and a few snipers had climbed to the roofs a few houses over. He began to parkour in zig-zags.

Up ahead, Viola kicked in the door to the roof and dropped inside. Clint leaped and rolled, landing onto their building perfectly. Still kneeling, he threw his legs forward between his arms and slid to home base. He fell through the doorway and dropped to a crouch on the second floor of his and Viola's home for the past few months.

He caught his bow on pure reflex as she tossed it to him, followed by his quiver. He slipped it over his head and grabbed his knife collection from under the bed, slipping the knives he didn't already have on his person into the various pockets his clothing had. He ripped off the sleeves to his shirt and heard the distinct sound of cloth tearing from her side of the room as well. Now in short sleeves and equipped with his favourite weapons, he crept to the window.

Viola had taken off her outer layer so that she was in a long skirt and a tank top. There was a long slit up one side of the skirt which revealed a gun holster and a lot of leg. She threw open the closet doors and stuffed a gun in the holster before grabbing her signature adamantium fans. With one flick of her wrists, they snapped open, sharp and shiny under the sunlight.

They locked eyes. She nodded. He pressed a button on his quiver, then he stepped away from the wall and yanked an arrow free. He pulled it back and released. The arrow flew straight and true and lodged itself in a man's chest. The arrow exploded and took out three more men.

"Go," he ordered.

She was already gone.

He kept firing, arrow after arrow after arrow. A few seconds later, Viola came springing out from the front door. She threw her fan and it sliced through the air not unlike Steve's shield before slamming into a man's face and knocking him out cold. She ran after it, cartwheeling over his body with one hand and grabbing her fan with the other. She righted herself with a flip of her hair and engaged. An elbow to the face. A heel to the stomach. A twist of the arm.

Clint's lips twitched. "Never mind on that back-up, guys," he said into his comm. "We got this."