Chapter 14:
[Steve Rogers POV]
[Camp Lehigh, New Jersey, USA]
I park the car in front of the abandoned military training base, the place where I became Captain America. It's surreal seeing it now. From my perspective, it was only a few months ago that this place was still buzzing with life; instructors and trainees were going about their daily routine. "This is it," Nat says, "Has it changed much?" "Not much," I say, flashbacking to a distant memory. We sweep the area. Natasha is saying something, but I'm not paying attention. I'm too focused on something that's out of place. "What is it?" Nat asks, alerted. I point, "Army regulations forbid storing munitions within 500 meters from the barracks. The building is in the wrong place." I break open the lock, and we go inside.
At the bottom of the staircase, I find a light switch. Surprisingly the lights still work. "This is SHIELD," Nat mummers. "Maybe where it started," I say. Both of us walk the path of rows of desks and file cabinets. Enter one of the offices. "There's Tony's father," Nat says as we stop in front of three photos. Colonel Phillips, Howard Stark, and Peggy Carter. "Who the girl?" Nat asks. I wasn't sure if she honestly didn't know or if she is just playing games. My gaze lingers on Peggy a little longer. Without answering Nat's question, I walk away. 'Let her go, old man, let her go.' I stop in front of a bookshelf. Between the small gap, there's an air current. "If you have a secret office," I pull the bookshelf to the side, "Why hide the elevator?" Compared to the rest of the facility, the elevator looks to be more modern. It had a digital keypad. Nat hacks it with her specialized phone.
[Lower level.] The elevator door opens to a large, dimly lit room full of old computers, like the kind of technology that would be considered cutting edge in my time. Howard Stark would have laughed, and Tony Stark would've called an antique dealer to take it away and sell it all for a penny. "This can't be the data point," Nat says, "The technology is ancient." Oddly, there's a USB drive slot at the base of the old computer. Someone has been here recently. Nat plugs the flash drive into it. All around us, the old machines work to life. A prompt appears on the main computer screen. 'Initialize system?' the computer displays. "Y-E-S spells yes," Nat enters the word, "Shall we play a game." The corner of my lip tilts slightly upward to Nat's reference of the 1983 movie War games. A movie considered by many that shaped the Hacker culture into what it is today. Least, according to Karai and Spartan. The camera on the top of the computer swivels to look at each of us. Flickering green lines dissolve into a face on the screen.
"Rogers, Steven. Born in 1918. Romanov, Natasha. Born in 1964," the voice says. A chill runs down my spine to the familiar voice. "Must be some recording," Nat says. 'It's not.' I didn't know how I know, but I knew. "I am not a recording, Fraulein," the machine snaps angrily, "I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945. But I am." The computer shows a photo of an old enemy on one of the monitors. "You know this thing?" Nat questions me. I nod, "Arnim Zola. The head scientist of HYDRA. He has been dead for years." "Correction, Captain. Look around you. I have never been more alive. In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body. My mind, however, could be saved. You are standing in my brain," Zola says.
"How? How did you get here?" I demand. "I was invited," the Mechanical voice deadpans. "Operation Paperclip," Nat states, "SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic value." "They foolishly believed I could help their causes. Instead, they unknowingly secured HYDRA's survival for the new age. Cut off one head; two more will take its place." I didn't believe it, "HYDRA died with the Red Skull." The soulless machine laughs, "You simply destroyed a body. An ideology is nearly impossible to kill, Captain. You, of all people, should know that."
'"Prove it," I growl. One of the computers' screens lit up, displaying multiple images. A montage of historical events from World War II onwards. "HYDRA was founded on the principle that humanity couldn't be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, SHIELD was founded, and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew, a beautiful parasite within SHIELD. For 70 NEO-HYDRA has been feeding crisis, reaping war, and when history did not cooperate, history was changed," Zola tells us. "That's impossible," Nat sneers, "SHIELD would've stopped you." "Accidents will happen," Zola says, "HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is ready to sacrifice its freedom for security. Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA's new world order will arise."
The monitor displays the three new Helicarriers. SHIELD compromised; the words keep echoing in my head. This is what Fury uncovered. This is why he was killed. I can feel my blood boiling with rage. "We won, Captain," Zola says smugly, "Your death amounts to the same as your life. A zero-sum." I punch the main computer screen displaying Zola's face; it didn't do any good. Zola appears on another screen. "What's on the Drive?!" I snap. "Project Insight requires insight. So, I wrote an algorism," Zola states. "What kind of algorism? What does it do?" Nat demands.
"The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it." Heavy reinforced doors shut down over the elevator, cutting us from our only exit. I throw the shield to jam the door open, but it bounces off. 'Shit.' Nat's phone buzzes, "Steve, we got a bogey. Short-range ballistic missile." "Who fired it?" I ask. The hardened redhead spy looks scared for the first time I could remember, "SHIELD." "I have been stalling, Captain," Zola says. Nat grabs the USB drive. I scan the room for any kind of protection, saw a ventilation crate on the floor, and rip it open. "Admit it. It's better this way," Zola finishes, "We are, both of us, out of time." Nat and I dive into the crate. The missile hit.
[Spartan POV]
[Quinjet.] In the distance, we spot a massive explosion. "Speed up, Rhodey!" Karai cries, voice full of concern. Nodding, Rhodey boosts the thrusters. We land on the smoldering ruin of Camp Lehigh. Weapon at the ready, Karai, Rhodey, and I sweep through the wreckage, hoping to find survivors. The HUD scans the surroundings, picks up two life signs. Rapidly, the three of us sprint over. From the rubble, a figure emerges from the debris, carrying an unconscious woman. It's Cap. "BOSS!" Karai and I yell out, running to him. The first super-soldier shoots his head up, eyes wide, "Spartan. Karai. You're alive?! But Rumlow told me he killed you two." I shake my head, "Tried. But we're not easy to get rid of." "Plus, Rhodey saved our asses at the last minutes," Karai adds. Cap places Nat on the ground. Karai goes to check her, using the HUD scanner, "No serious injuries. Just a mild concussion. She'll be fine. We need to get out of here." The HUD pings multiple quinjet heading our way. The closest one is touching down a 100-meters out. I pull out a cloak and toss it to Cap. The man catches it, looks at it, puzzled. "It's a stealth-camo cloak," I say. Cap throws it on over himself and Nat. Together, we start to head back to Rhodey's quinjet. I turn back just for a moment; the HUD zooms in on STRIKE commandos searching the area; with them are Drake and Rumlow. A part of me is looking forward to another shot at the merc. I push on, following the others.
[Quinjet.] After a few minutes, Nat finally comes to. She gazes around the jet. Eyes fall on me, Karai, Rhodey, and lastly, Cap. "What did I miss?" Nat asks. "Not much," Cap tells her. The five of us share our accounts on what happened to each of us before linking-up. Cap tells us Fury was dead, killed by an assassin with a metal arm. Despite the calm demeanor, Karai and I balled our fists in controlled rage. "Where are we going, Cap?" I ask the AVENGERS' team leader. The man glances at each of us, "We need to lay low for a short while. A place the enemy won't track us to." "Got a place in mind?" Nat questions. "Maybe," he says.
[Drake POV]
Along with Rumlow and his team of STRIKE commandos, we spread out to pick through the wreckage for any survivors to finish them off. It's our job to make sure Captain America and Black Widow hadn't gotten out alive of the old base. The Zola loose end is tied up. That much is for sure. Well, at least one of Zola's AI copies. The HUD picks up a trail leading out the base. 'They survived the decimation.' Rumlow spots what I found and taps his comlink, "Send in the Asset."
[Steve Rogers POV]
[Wilson's house, Washington DC]
The five of us sneak into the backyard of a suburban home. I knock on the door. After a short wait, the door opens, Sam on the other end. "Hey, man?" the man says, confused. "We're sorry about this, Sam, but we need a place to lay low," I start off. Nat jumps in and adds, "Everyone we know is trying to kill us." Sam looks toward the five of us, then steps to the side, "Not everyone."
[Room.] Once I'm done cleaning myself up, I make my way to the small room Sam let us borrow, holding a first aid kit in my hand. The nasty gash on Natasha's arm is completely gone now, as if it was never there in the first place. She's bio-enhanced like Spartan, Karai, and myself. A super-soldier. In the tail end of my mind, I remember Fury telling me about the multiple super-soldier programs that emerged after the US Army's super-soldier project came to light. With a sigh, I place the first aid kit onto a nearby shelf. "You okay?"
I question the spy. Something seems off with her. "Yeah," Natasha brushes off, "Already healed up." That I already knew, but I didn't believe her when she said she's okay. I sit in the chair near the bed, "Want to try that again?" She rubs a hand over her face, "When I joined SHIELD, I thought I was going straight. But I guess I traded the KGB for something worse." I fold my arm, letting her vent out. Natasha continues, "I thought I knew who lies I was telling. Guess I can't tell the difference anymore." That's a big confession out of her. As long as I've known her, she has never shown her real self, not even a glimpse. Maybe Fury's death broke something loose inside her.
"Maybe you're in the wrong line of work," I say, trying to lighten the mood. Natasha smiles. It's not much of a smile, but it's something. "I owe you one. If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save you, be brutally honest, would you trust me to do it?" she asks. I consider her question heavily. It's far-fetched to believe her life was a series of lies and betrayal. She didn't need someone to trust; she needed someone to trust her. If she had asked me the same question a few days ago, the answer would have been no. "I do now," I tell her, meaning it, "And I'm always honest." My answer seems to lift her spirit.
[Spartan POV]
After a while, Cap and Nat enter the living area. Sitting at the table, we all put a dent in Sam's groceries and begin to run through the situation. "The question is, who in SHIELD would have the authority to launch a domestic missile strike?" Nat asks. "Pierce," Cap says. "I never liked that bureaucratic asshat," I growl. Karai raises an eyebrow, "Dude, you don't like any politician." "And you see the reason why," I retort. "Well, that politician happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world," Nat voices, "And has nearly unlimited resources, SHIELD, and an army of mercs at his disposal."
"He's not working alone. An operation like this is too big for one person," Cap says, "Zola's Algorithm was on the Lemurian Star." "So was Sitwell," Nat points out. Everyone who was on that mission gazes at each other, putting all the pieces together. 'Sitwell is in on it. Fucking A. Damn traitor.' "How do five most WANTED people in the world grab a high-ranking SHIELD officer?" Cap says, thinking. Sam moves toward the table, placing a file down, "The answer is, you don't." Cap takes the folder, "What's this?" "Consider it a resume," Sam tells him. Nat looks over Cap's shoulder to the papers, "Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission that was you?" Sam nods.
"You didn't mention your friend's a paratrooper, Army," Rhodey says to Cap. I catch a glimpse of the photo. Sam, along with another man, was wearing a non-standard combat-suit. "I heard about that mission. Couldn't bring in the choppers because of the RPGs. You guys used a stealth chute?" Karai states. "No. We used these," Sam says, handing another folder. The cover reads, 'Exo-7 Falcon.' "I thought you said you were a pilot," Cap says. Sam smiles, "I never said I was a pilot." Cap slightly shakes his head, "I can't ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a reason." Sam crosses his arms, "The odds you're facing, you guys need all the help you can get. I'm not sitting this fight out." I wheel to Cap, "He has a point, Boss." He sighs, "Okay. Where can we get our hands on one of these things?" indicates the Exo-7 Falcon suit. "The last one is at Fort Meade. Behind three guarded gates and a 12-inch steel wall," Sam tells us. The five of us smile at that. "Won't be a problem," Cap says.
[Quinjet.] After our little detour and grabbing the suit. Sam suits up in the Exo-7 Falcon combat-suit. "It's no Iron Man suit, but it's still freaking cool," Rhodey says admiringly. Sam nods at the fellow air force soldier in thanks.
[1 day later, Washington DC]
[Rooftop.] Down on street-level, Sitwell and Senator Stern exit a business building near the capitol. When the senator leaves, Sitwell's phone rings. The man answers immediately. Karai hacked the phone and makes Alexander Pierce's name display on the caller ID screen. "Yes, sir," he says into the phone. "The crab cakes here are delicious," a voice who wasn't Alexander Pierce speaks through the earpiece. "Who is this?" Sitwell demands. "The good-looking guy in the sunglasses, on your 10 o'clock. Sitwell peers around and spots Sam sitting at a table within a coffee house patio. He raises his glass in a mock toast. "What do you want?" he asks. "You're going to go around the corner to you right. There's a gray car waiting for you. We're going to take a little ride," Sam tells him. Sitwell smirks, "Why would I do that? You do realize the penalty for threatening a federal Officer?" Karai shines a red dot on Sitwell's chest from her sniper rifle. I smirk at that. Clearly, she's itching to have some payback. "Because that tie looks very expensive. And I hate to mess it up," Sam warns.
Sitwell is thrown through the door by Cap. Getting him on his feet, Cap pushes the man to the rooftop edge, "Tell me about Zola's algorithm." "Never, heard of it," Sitwell says. I punch him in the face, "Lie to us again, and it'll be worse." "What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?" Cap asks. "Throwing up. I get seasick." 'Well, it wasn't a lie.' Cap holds Sitwell over the edge, "I'm not going to ask again." Sitwell composes himself, smiles confidently, "Is this little display meant to intimidate me. That you're going to drop me if I don't talk. Come on, Rogers, we both know it's not your style." Cap pulls him in and cleans off his jacket, "You're right. It's not. It's hers."
Cap moves to the side, and Nat push-kicks Sitwell over the edge. The man's scream fades into the distance. "Damn. I wanted to do that," Karai whispers. Nat turns to Cap, "Wait, what about that girl from accounting, Laura…" "Lillian," Cap corrects, "Lip piercing, right?" "Yeah, she's cute," Nat says nonchalantly. Cap shakes his head, "I'm not ready for that." The female spy is still playing Cap's matchmaker. Both Karai and I smile at the duo. Sitwell's screams come back. Over the edge, Sam and Rhodey fly in, carrying Sitwell. They drop him back onto the roof. All of us stride over to the squirming Sitwell. He raises his hands in surrender, panicked, "Zola's algorithm is a program for choosing targets!" "What targets?" Cap demands. "You, The AVENGERS, Nick Fury, the TV anchor in Cairo, the high school student in Queens, the street-level vigilantes in Hell's Kitchen, Phil Coulson, Stephen Strange, anyone who is a threat to HYDRA. Now, or in the future." "Future? How could it know?" Cap asks, shocked. Sitwell chuckles nervously, "The 21st century is a digital book. Zola's algorithm evaluates people's digital information to predict their future." "What then?" Cap question. "Isn't it obvious? HYDRA starts crossing them off. A few million at a time," he tells us. I draw my pistol and shoot Sitwell with a stun-blast, knocking the man out cold.
[Drake POV]
[Rooftop.] I stroll to the unconscious Stillwell. Missed the targets by 10 minutes. I breathe in vexation then kick the man awake. He looks around, panicked. Sitwell gazes up at me, eyes wide with terror. I grin down at him under my mask, "The boss wants a word." "No. No. No. Please don't. I give you anything you want. Do anything. Please do not hand me over to Zemo," Sitwell begs. I roll my eyes.
[HYDRA Base, Washington DC]
I push Sitwell through the double doors. The man loses his footing and falls to the ground. In the center of the room stands Zemo, with him, are the rest of CERBERUS. On his knees, Sitwell begins to beg for his life. Zemo simply ignores his cries. "Like the Red Skull before me, I do not tolerate failure or weakness. And you, Sitwell, have shown you are both a failure and weak." "Master Zemo, please give me another chance. I will not fail you again. I will make right by you." Zemo tilts his head, "Indeed, you will not fail me again." Winter Soldier emerges from the shadows from out of nowhere and punches a hole through Sitwell's head. The body drops lifelessly to the ground. I grin at the display. 'Love watching you work, Winter.'