Chapter 11:
[Spartan POV]
[3 months later, SHIELD HQ, New York City]
[Virtual Reality.] I enter the virtual reality training area at SHIELD HQ, following Captain America's instructions. The recruits gather on the line, and Cap stands confidently in the center. He explains the exercise, emphasizing that our goal is to get past him and ring the bell on the other side. The first team of three prepares to start, and Karai blows the whistle to begin. The three recruits charge at Cap, but he effortlessly takes them down one by one. He leaps onto the first guy, flipping him onto his back. With a swift roundhouse kick, he brings down the second guy. The last recruit tries to rush past Cap, but he smirks and throws his shield, sweeping the guy's leg out from under him. I can't help but smile under my mask as Wanda whispers her disbelief, "Here, I thought he was going to go easy on us."
"That was him going easy," I respond, enjoying the display of Cap's skills. Wanda gives me a wide-eyed look before admitting, "Now that is just unfair." We watch as Cap continues to take down the other teams, showcasing his mastery of combat. I comment, "You would think they would've figured out that the purpose of the exercise is to work as a team." "They'll figure it out. Eventually," Karai reassures. After an hour of intense training, Karai calls it quits. "Alright, guys, log-out," she declares, signaling the end of the virtual reality simulation.
[Real World.] [GYM.] As I open my eyes, I find myself back in the real world, surrounded by Karai and Wanda in the training area. We remove our VR headsets, and Wanda sits up, remarking on the experience. I explain to her, "The brain makes it feel real. To the mind, pain is pain." Wanda looks at Karai with confusion, prompting me to clarify, "It's called the phantom effect. Virtual reality is a computer-simulated environment that can replicate the physical sensations of the real world or fictional scenarios. The system was developed by the US Army to train rookies and keep veterans sharp. The missions take place in a virtual environment, providing safety while allowing for various training scenarios, including combat, weapons, and vehicles. But that's not even the most fascinating part. Time perception is distorted in virtual reality. Days, weeks, or even months can pass within the simulation while only a few minutes go by in real-time," I add, highlighting another aspect of VR training.
Curious about her own past experiences, Wanda asks, "Why couldn't I have used the VR system for training when I first joined?" I respond, gesturing to the past, "Your physical fitness level was not up to par. The mind and body are not the same. Even if we had put you in virtual reality, it wouldn't have made a difference." Karai chimes in, emphasizing Clint's role, "Clint addressed that by focusing on physical training to enhance your physical attributes." Wanda nods, understanding the reasoning behind her training regimen.
[Wanda Maximoff POV]
[Room.] Exhaustion washes over me, and I collapse onto my bed. What a day it has been. On the other side of the bed, my loyal wolf-dog companion, Ahab, raises his head. He jumps onto the bed and settles down beside me, nudging my hand for a comforting pet, which I gladly provide. Ahab has grown significantly in the past three months, and I wonder if his hybrid nature contributes to his rapid growth. Regardless, he brings me comfort and companionship. Drifting into a momentary slumber, I'm abruptly brought back to reality by a knock on my door. "Come in," I call out, sitting up on my bed.
Spartan enters the room, checking up on me. Ahab barks happily and eagerly approaches Spartan, his tail wagging with excitement. Spartan kneels down, giving Ahab a gentle stroke around his ear. I dismissively wave my hand, assuring Spartan, "I'm still getting used to the phantom effect, but I'm doing alright. Thank you. It was nice to see Captain America again, even if it was only through virtual reality." Spartan rises to his feet, his hands in his pockets. "You'll adapt quickly. And yeah, it was great teaming up with Cap again," he responds. I gaze out the window, observing the radiant, clear sky above the city. Lost in my thoughts, I'm brought back by Spartan's voice calling my name. I blink, refocusing my attention on him. "S-Spartan. Sorry, I got lost in my own thoughts for a moment there," I apologize.
"Are you okay?" Spartan asks, concerned. I look down briefly and then back out the window, reminiscing about my childhood. "I was thinking about my older brother, Pietro. When I was young, our family used to spend days like this in the park. Papa would run with Pietro and me, playing games. Those were peaceful times. It feels like a lifetime ago now..." I shake my head, pushing away the sadness that engulfs me. "Sorry, I didn't mean to burden you with my melancholy." Spartan assures me, "No, you have nothing to apologize for. If you want to talk or vent, I'm here to listen. So is the rest of the team." His words bring a genuine, small, bright smile to my face. "Thank you. I-I would appreciate that very much." For the next two hours, we engage in a heartfelt conversation. It feels cathartic to express my thoughts and feelings. Spartan is different from the others I've encountered before, including Clint. He treats me with kindness and respect, and as time passes, I find myself enjoying his company more and more. Unfortunately, our time together is interrupted by his comlink buzzing. "EPYON has detected an operation. I have to go deal with it," he informs me. I nod and reply, "Be careful out there. As you American soldiers say, watch your six."
[Steve Rogers POV]
[2 Weeks later, The Smithsonian, Washington DC]
As I ride my motorcycle through the city, I find myself drawn to one of my favorite places, the Smithsonian. It's always been a special location for me, but recently it feels a bit strange. The museum has set up an exhibit dedicated to my life, portraying me as a walking historical relic. It's been weighing on my mind for the past couple of days, making me question the meaning of everything I fought for. When did we start compromising our freedom in the name of security? I shake my head, trying to clear those troubling thoughts.
Walking through the exhibit, I listen to the voice-over narrating a version of my story. I pause in front of a group of mannequins dressed in replicas of the uniforms worn by the Howling Commandos. My gaze lingers on the mannequin meant to represent Bucky. I turn and come across a black-and-white photograph of Bucky labeled 'A Fallen Comrade.' The voice-over solemnly states, "Both on school grounds and the battlefield, Steven Rogers and Bucky Barnes were inseparable. Brothers in every way but blood. Barnes is the only member of the Howling Commandos to have given his life in service to his country." I take a deep, sorrowful breath, feeling the weight of Bucky's loss.
[Theater-room.] In the next room, I enter a theater where an interview with Peggy Carter is being played on screen. She speaks of the hardships we faced during a harsh winter. "That was a difficult winter. A blizzard trapped half of the battalion behind the German lines. Steve, Captain Rogers, fought his way through a HYDRA blockade that had pinned down our allies for months. He saved 1,000 men," Peggy recounts to the interviewer, her voice filled with admiration. "Including the man who would eventually become my husband. Even after he was gone, Steve continued to change my life." I reach into my pocket and retrieve the old compass, gazing at the only photograph I have of Peggy. Memories of our brief but cherished time together flood my mind. 'Let her go, old man. Let her go,' I silently remind myself, knowing I must move on.
[Nick Fury POV]
[1 Day later, Triskelion, Washington DC]
[Office.] "Secure the office," I command. The windows instantly darken to a deep tint, and other concealed security measures activate. No electronic signals can enter or leave the room. I insert the USB drive that Romanov brought back into a terminal and command, "Open the Lemurian Star satellite launch file." To my surprise, a message pops up on the screen: "Access denied." 'What the hell?' I quickly order, "Run decryption." But the decryption process fails, leaving me baffled. "Director override. Fury Nicholas J," I state, attempting an alternative approach. Yet again, I receive a disappointing response: "Override denied. All files sealed." The computer claims that it is under my authority, but someone has locked me out using my own codes. Only a handful of individuals possess that level of access. My mind starts to piece together a list of potential suspects. I had suspicions about an internal issue within SHIELD, but I lacked concrete evidence. Now, the question looms: how deep does this corruption go? Or, more importantly, how high does it reach? There's only one person who may have the answers. I make a beeline for the elevator.
[World Security Council office.] Alexander Pierce, the liaison and a member of the World Security Council, engages in a heated discussion with four council members who appear as holograms. Gideon Malick's absence from the meeting catches my attention, as he is one of the suspects on my list. A secretary informs Pierce that I am in his office and need to talk. Ignoring the protests from the council members, Pierce exits the meeting room and walks towards his office. "I work 40 floors away, and it takes a hijacking for you to visit," he remarks as he approaches. I retort, "A nuclear war would do it too." Glancing out the window, I ask, "Having a hard time?"
Pierce forces a smile and responds, "It's nothing I haven't handled a million times before." I turn my attention back to him and say, "I need a favor. Call for a vote. Project Insight needs to be delayed." Pierce pushes back, saying, "Nick, that's not a favor; that's a sub-committee hearing. A long one." His voice carries a hidden anger that doesn't escape my notice. Like Councilman Malick, Pierce is eager to see Project Insight deployed as soon as possible, fueling my suspicions about his true motives. I feel my suspicions rising. "It might be nothing. It probably is nothing. I want to make sure that it is nothing," I insist. Pierce probes further, asking, "But if it is something?" He tests the waters, trying to gauge how much information he can extract from me. Being seasoned in counterintelligence, I recognize his subtle attempts to uncover secrets. I sigh and respond, "Then we'll both be damn glad those Helicarriers aren't in the air." Reluctantly, Pierce concedes, "Fine. I'll talk to the council." As I leave the office, I send out an encrypted message signaling that SHIELD has been compromised.
[Washington DC]
[Car.] Driving through the city, my mind races with thoughts. One part of me chastises myself for not recognizing the conspiracy sooner and taking action when I first grew suspicious. Age has finally caught up with me. Whatever is unfolding, it's undoubtedly linked to Project Insight. I activate the communication encryption protocol and place a call to Hill, my second in command. She answers promptly, and I get straight to the point, saying, "I need you in DC. Deep shadow condition." Hill swiftly responds, "Give me four hours." I assertively reply, "You've got three," and end the call. Coming to a stop at a traffic light, I find a police car pulling up beside me. The two officers inside glare at me, their demeanor hostile. Their eyes are concealed behind mirrored sunglasses. Dealing with unpleasant cops is not new to me, but this feels different. Alarm bells ring in my head, urging me to be prepared for a fight. The light changes to green, and chaos erupts.
[Karai POV]
[Hours later, Pakistan]
[Quinjet.] We were assigned a critical mission by SHIELD. The intel team received actionable information that the TEN-RINGS had acquired a nuclear weapon. The other STRIKE commandos are getting ready. I glance at Rumlow as he begins to brief the team on the mission. "Alright, listen up! The stolen nuke wasn't taken far. We have its location narrowed down to a missile assembly building. We'll enter from the roof and spread out from there," he instructs, "Once we secure the warhead, we'll disarm it while en route to the rendezvous point." JSOC is joining us on this snatch-and-grab operation. "Approaching the drop zone," the pilot announces. "Attention! Prepare for action," Rumlow shouts, getting everyone on their feet. The quinjet stealthily flies over one of the nearby buildings. Alpha team ropes down onto the roof, ready with our weapons. We enter the assembly building.
[Assembly-building.] Spotting an enemy, I swiftly move up behind him and apply a rear chokehold, rendering him unconscious within seconds. "Three hostiles on the lower level," a JSOC soldier reports. "Moving to clear," Spartan says. He moves past me and descends to the lower level. Taking down an unsuspecting sentry, he swiftly draws his pistol and eliminates three more threats. "Clear," Spartan communicates through his comlink. Using my HUD, I spot a team of hostiles loading the nuke onto a vehicle.
"They're on the move! Engage them! Don't let them escape with the nuke!" I shout. JSOC teams fast-rope down from an opening, firing at every enemy target. The entire facility becomes a war zone, with bullets flying in all directions. I sprint across the catwalk, slide under a crate, and eliminate three militia members with precise headshots. Through my HUD, I see Spartan tackle an enemy who was attempting to ambush me. "Nice save," I acknowledge. "Someone has to watch your back," he replies. "As long as it's not my lower six. We wouldn't want Wanda to get jealous, would we?" I tease. Even behind his mask, I can tell Spartan's face is blushing. "Focus on the mission, Karai," Spartan deflects. "Nuke is secured," Rumlow announces over the comlink, "Get on the transport vehicle." I look over the railing and see STRIKE and JSOC starting to move out. However, something feels off. Spartan and I rappel down to the ground level and land on the transport vehicle as we prepare to depart.
[Evac-location.] We establish our position in the middle of an open field, 10 miles away, and await extraction. It will be a two-hour wait. Spartan taps my shoulder and hands me a bottle of water, which I gratefully accept. We observe the other soldiers celebrating the successful mission. An hour passes, and I hear a distant sound approaching. Looking over the horizon, I spot seven aircraft. "The transport is early," Spartan remarks, standing next to me. At that moment, a message from Fury appears on our HUD: 'SHIELD compromised.' As the flyers come within range, they open fire on us. "INCOMING!" Spartan shouts.
He tackles me, bringing us both to the ground. Chaos ensues. Soldiers are torn apart left and right. Those who survive the initial onslaught fight back with all their might. Getting to our feet, Spartan and I join the battle. A JSOC soldier acquires a rocket launcher and takes down one of the flyers. Three carriers land, deploying a small battalion of troops. They close in on us, boxing us in. The remaining flyers make another pass, wiping out a group of soldiers. Only a handful of us are still standing. JSOC soldiers fight alongside us but are quickly killed, each with a precise shot to the head. This leaves only Spartan and me, the last two standing. Mercenaries surround us from all sides. A nearly invisible figure steps forward, deactivating the stealth camouflage to reveal Drake. Spartan straightens. Rumlow and his team casually approach the mercenaries. "You motherfucker," I growl, glaring at Rumlow with intense hatred, "You betrayed us." Rumlow smirks. Drake locks eyes with him and says, "The Bosses want you back in DC." "Hail HYDRA," he replies, walking away. Both Spartan and I are left in shock by Rumlow's words.
Drake lunges forward and punches Spartan in the face. I quickly take aim, but Drake swiftly maneuvers closer, disarms me, strikes my jaw with his elbow, and spins me around while maintaining control of my arm. He then delivers a powerful elbow strike to my joint, breaking it. I let out a scream of pain.
[Spartan POV]
Jumping to my feet, I witness the brutal attack on Karai by Drake. He tosses her to the side. We stare each other down. "Drake," I growl the man's code name. "Come on, Runt. Let's go," Drake says. Before I could move, Drake grabs me by the neck with one hand. Can't let him get away with hurting my partner. I break free from his grip on my neck and execute an arm throw, sending him crashing to the ground. Drake swiftly gets back on his feet as I charge at him, delivering a powerful knee strike to his chest. However, my momentary distraction allows Drake to strike back. He lands a solid hook, sending me flying to the side like a ragdoll.
"Spartan!" Karai yells out in fear. Despite her injuries, she refuses to back down and launches another attack. But Drake easily defends himself, overpowering her completely. With lightning speed, he draws a blade and swiftly stabs Karai in the shoulder, and then punctures her side. Karai screams in agony, falling to her knees as blood streams from her wounds. I immediately rush forward, tackling Drake off of her. However, he counters with a back elbow to my face and a powerful strike that sends my head crashing into the wall. Karai tries to rejoin the fight, but Drake kicks her square in the face, knocking her back to the ground. Drake turns his attention back to me.
He brandishes his knife, aiming to strike again. I manage to block his attack and push him toward the wall, unleashing a barrage of punches. Each blow lands with increasing force, and I can feel the bones in his jaw crack under the impact. Drake pushes me off and executes a spin-back kick to my chest, sending me crashing to the ground. As he approaches the fallen Karai, he grabs her by the head, forcing her to her knees and preparing for the final blow. Karai defiantly spits in his face, uttering the words, "Fuck you." My heart races, and I shout out in desperation.
Suddenly, Drake is struck by an unexpected energy blast, propelling him to the ground. The nearby carriers also come under fire and crash. I look up to see James Rhodes, known as War Machine, in his armored combat suit. He swiftly becomes the target of the mercenaries' gunfire, but he gracefully evades the attacks while retaliating with his own blasts, taking out some of the mercenaries. Jetting toward Karai and me, Rhodey grabs hold of us and lifts us off the ground, soaring away from danger. Drake rises to his feet, glaring at us as we make our escape.