Chapter 38:
[Power Broker POV]
[CERBERUS Base, Madripoor]
[Control Room.] Through a secure video conference, I communicate the unfolding situation to Zemo. Conveying the news, his reaction lacks enthusiasm. The seriousness of the circumstances weighs heavily on his expressions, revealing displeasure and growing anger. To ease his concerns, I assure Zemo I have full control over the situation. To demonstrate my capability and support my claims, I direct his attention to the video feed showing two captured AVENGERS. The heroes are securely confined within separate pods, rendering their formidable powers ineffective. A subtle change occurs as Zemo takes in the sight of the restrained AVENGERS. Zemo becomes fully engaged, assuming an authoritative stance. Curiosity colors his voice as he asks, "Did you gather combat data when they battled our forces?" Taken aback by the question, I swiftly nod, uncertain of his motives. "Good," he replies, his tone conveying a calculated approach, "Extract DNA samples for the Lazarus Project. Then, eliminate them. Every single one. Leave no evidence behind." Zemo's directive is clear and resolute, allowing no room for hesitation or doubt. It becomes evident that his interest lies in neutralizing the immediate threat posed by the AVENGERS and exploiting their genetic material for a covert endeavor.
Upon Zemo issuing his orders, the communication abruptly ends, severing our connection. The weight of the command lingers in the air, compelling me to contemplate the grim task ahead. It is a call to eliminate the captured AVENGERS, eradicating any trace of their existence. I prepare myself to carry out these chilling instructions. The fate of the captured heroes and the secrets they hold now rests in my hands. The Lazarus Project awaits its genetic resources, and I must ensure that every aspect of this operation is wiped clean, leaving no evidence of our actions. The Control Room descends into an unsettling silence, and I steel myself for the challenging undertaking that awaits, fully aware that accomplishing it will secure both my position with Zemo and the fulfillment of our clandestine objectives.
[Zemo POV]
[CERBERUS Base, New York City, USA]
A controlled, angered sigh escapes my lips, a testament to the frustration I feel. "Madripoor Base has fallen," I announce with a hint of exasperation. Skeith raises an eyebrow, seeking answers. "But the Power Broker assured us that he had the situation under control. Project Lazarus can be salvage." she states. I respond with a humorless laugh, a bitter expression tugging at my lips. "I allowed the Power Broker to pursue HYDRA's Project Lazarus out of morbid curiosity. I never harbored any illusions of its success. In fact, I knew it was destined to fail in the long run." Perplexed, Skeith questions, "What do you mean?" I shake my head, then turn to face her directly. "The ultimate flaw of Project Lazarus lies in its reliance on time. Without constant maintenance, the bodies of the Lazarus soldiers will inevitably deteriorate. They are doomed to perish from within, a slow decay that cannot be halted." The realization of this flaw has fueled my skepticism from the beginning.
Skeith's next question hangs in the air, filled with uncertainty. "So what now?" she asks, her voice tinged with anticipation. I pause for a moment, considering the options before responding. "Nothing. Cut our losses and prepare to find a suitable replacement for Power Broker," I assert, a sense of verification creeping into my voice. The failure of Project Lazarus is no big loss. It leaves us a chance to adapt and move forward, seeking a new source of power and influence in the relentless pursuit of our goals.
[Steve Rogers POV]
[CERBERUS Base, Madripoor]
[East Wing.] Natasha and I stride down the dimly lit hallway, our footsteps echoing off the cold walls. As we move in unison, I can't help but notice the tension etched across Natasha's features. Observing her closely, I decide to address the matter. "Omega mentioned your sister," I begin cautiously, my voice breaking the silence between us, "The way he spoke, it seemed like he had a personal connection to her." Instantly, Natasha's face tightens, her eyes filled with a mixture of anguish and defiance. She shuts down the conversation abruptly, "No. He was lying. It was just a ploy to divert our attention. My sister... she's gone." Her words hang heavy in the air, resonating with a deep sense of loss. I can sense the profound grief that Natasha carries within her, even though she tries to mask it behind a facade of strength. I understand her need to protect herself from that pain. "This isn't the time or place to discuss this, Steve. We still have a mission to complete," Natasha snaps, her voice laced with urgency. At that moment, I realize that pushing the matter further would only distract us from our current objective. Respecting Natasha's words, I choose to drop the subject. We exchange a brief nod of understanding, silently reaffirming our commitment to the task before us, and resume our steady stride down the corridor, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.
A sense of unease washes over me as I realize that we haven't received any updates from Spartan or Karai in quite some time. Concerned for their well-being, I instinctively reach for the comlink attached to my suit and tap it, attempting to establish a connection with the two. "Spartan, Karai, what's the sitrep?" I speak into the comlink, my voice filled with a mixture of urgency and worry. But to my dismay, there is no immediate response, only an unsettling silence that hangs in the air. Determined not to let panic cloud my judgment, I make a second attempt, hoping for some sign of life on the other end of the line.
Once again, my call goes unanswered, leaving me with a growing sense of apprehension. It's unlike Spartan and Karai to go silent without reason. Thoughts race through my mind, considering the possibilities of what could have happened to them. Has something gone wrong? Are they in danger? The absence of their voices amplifies the weight of the situation, intensifying the urgency to find them and ensure their safety. With a renewed sense of purpose, I exchange a brief glance with Natasha, our eyes reflecting the shared concern for our missing comrades. We know that we can't afford to waste any more time. The mission may have taken an unexpected turn, but our determination remains unshaken. We press on, ready to face whatever awaits us in our search for Spartan and Karai, intent to bring them back and complete our mission as a united team.
[Spartan POV]
[Chamber Room B.] I jolt awake, my senses snapping into sharp focus. I find myself tightly bound within a cramped pod, and Karai, my companion in this nightmarish ordeal, is trapped in a similar state. The realization hits me like a freight train. We've fallen into the enemy's clutches, captured and at their mercy. Frustration and urgency surge through me as I internalize the gravity of our predicament. "Damn it. We've been captured," I mutter under my breath. Peering through the pod's transparent window, my gaze falls upon two figures standing ominously before us. One of them is a blatant Captain America imitation, known as Protocide, exuding an air of arrogance and power. The other figure, towering and imposing, possesses an unsettling appearance. His chalk-like skin, piercing red eyes, and the unmistakable Omega tattoo on his forehead all point to a dangerous individual. The sight of them sends shivers down my spine, leaving no doubt that they are formidable foes. Could they be the results of the infamous Lazarus Project, twisted and augmented for nefarious purposes?
As my attention remained fixed on our captors, the chamber door smoothly slid open, heralding the arrival of the orchestrator behind the scenes. Stepping into the room, the Power Broker commanded attention, his gaze firmly fixed upon Karai and me. Karai barked out a series of questions, to which he responded with a smug aura of arrogance. The Power Broker possessed an imposing stature, standing tall with a short buzz-cut head of hair and a well-groomed goatee. His attire consisted of a sleek black suit complemented by a crisp white shirt and a vibrant red tie. Every inch of his appearance exuded confidence and control. And when he spoke, his deep, resonating voice boomed throughout the room, commanding authority.
"I have been known by many names, but the Power Broker is the most significant title," he began, his words brimming with gravitas and intent. His commanding presence filled the room, capturing our absolute attentiveness. "The two of you have proven to be a constant thorn in my side, causing me substantial trouble throughout this day," he continued, his voice unwavering and filled with a mix of authority and annoyance. Evidently, our actions had disrupted his plans, and he was determined to assert his dominance over the situation.
Karai hisses at him, her voice dripping with anger and defiance, "You sick twisted fuck?! You'll pay for the atrocities you have committed! Transforming individuals into mindless abominations!" Her words strike like venomous daggers, piercing the air with her vehement opposition to the Power Broker's vile actions. The weight of her accusation hangs heavily in the room, challenging the Power Broker to defend his morally reprehensible endeavors. The line between right and wrong is sharply drawn, and Karai's unwavering stance signifies her determination to hold him accountable for his heinous deeds. The Power Broker cracks a small, amusement-filled laugh in response, his voice laced with a twisted sense of satisfaction. "The individuals you're foolishly worked up about are far from innocent," he retorts, "Before their death, they were hardened criminals, each viler than the last." His words carry a chilling tone as if reveling in the knowledge of their dark pasts. It becomes clear that the Power Broker justifies his actions by viewing his victims as deserving of their fate, reinforcing his distorted perspective.
Anger surges within me, and I growl menacingly, vowing to bury him and his cohorts once I escape this hellish prison. The Power Broker, however, seems unfazed by my death glare, sporting a twisted smile as he speaks, "You should be grateful for the BIO-ENHANCER coursing through your veins. It has bought you a few more agonizing minutes of life. Consider it revenge for the humiliation I suffered." A challenging smile spreads across my face as I meet the Power Broker's gaze. "Give it your best shot, you son of a bitch," I retort defiantly. The anger on his face intensifies, his composure faltering in the face of my unyielding spirit. Perhaps taunting him was not the most tactful approach, but it's a calculated move to provoke him into making a mistake. If I can disrupt his control, it might give us an opportunity to turn the tide in our favor.
With a purposeful stride, the Power Broker moves toward a nearby control panel, his fingers deftly inputting commands. The ominous sound of machinery fills the air as he announces, "Commencing extraction of DNA material. I'm going to drain you dry." Dread creeps up my spine as I witness multiple long syringes emerge from a small slot within the pod. I brace myself for the excruciating pain that is about to ensue. This is going to be a brutal experience, but I refuse to let it break me.
The chamber is engulfed in a cacophony of agony as Karai, and I unleash primal screams of excruciating pain. The piercing sound reverberates off the sterile walls, filling the air with a haunting symphony of suffering. Every fiber of our beings convulses under the torment inflicted by the merciless extraction process. Within the confines of our pods, our bodies writhe and contort, locked in a torturous struggle against the relentless grip of the syringes penetrating the base of our necks. The searing sensation courses through our veins, amplifying the intensity of our cries as if our very souls are being laid bare and violated. The agony is unrelenting, mercilessly stretching time as each moment feels like an eternity. The chamber itself seems to groan in response, amplifying our screams as if to echo our anguish. It is a symphony of suffering, a manifestation of the horrors we endure at the hands of our captors. Through the haze of pain and despair, a steely Dauntless emerges. Our screams transform into a declaration of defiance, a testament to our unwavering will to survive. We refuse to be broken, even in the face of such torment. With every cry that escapes our lips, we draw strength from the depths of our souls, vowing to endure, overcome, and emerge from this crucible stronger than ever before.
As the chamber resounds with our primal screams, they become a battle cry, a rallying call that reverberates through the very core of our being. Though our bodies may be trapped, our spirits remain solid. We will not be silenced. We will not be defeated. Our screams become a testament to our resilience, a symbol of the unbreakable spirit that burns within us. And so, the chamber continues to echo with our screams, serving as a testament to our enduring defiance, an anthem that proclaims to the world that we will not be broken. In this chamber of pain, our voices rise, resolute and inflexible, as we forge our path toward liberation, fueled by an unquenchable fire.
To our fortune, just as the chamber reverberates with our screams of agony, the radio belonging to the Power Broker suddenly springs to life, filling the air with urgent chatter. A frantic voice on the other end, a CERBERUS soldier, pleads for reinforcements, his words laced with desperation. He reports that Captain America and Black Widow have launched a relentless assault on their forces, wreaking havoc as they advance to the West Wing. A surge of frustration courses through the Power Broker's veins, evident in the way his features contort with a mixture of anger and annoyance. He whirls around, his eyes locking on Protocide and Omega, his trusted enforcers. With a sharp command laced with irritation, he instructs them to take action. "Go! Eliminate the intruders!" His voice carries an undercurrent of rage as he adds, "I will handle matters here."
The tension in the chamber heightens, and the atmosphere is charged with anticipation. Without hesitation, Protocide and Omega spring into action, their imposing figures disappearing from the chamber with purposeful strides. The air crackles with the energy of impending confrontation as the power dynamics within the room shift. The Power Broker, now left to his own devices, turns his attention back to Karai and me, a glimmer of malevolence flickering in his eyes. The chamber is filled with silence as the echoes of our screams gradually fade into the background. The imminent clash between Captain America and Black Widow hangs heavy in the air, a clash that will shape the outcome of this precarious situation. Our fate, and that of the Power Broker, now hinges on the outcome of these intertwined battles unfolding in different corners of the complex.
In the aftermath of the chaos and tension that permeated the chamber, a palpable stillness settled over the room. It is within this uneasy calm that a glimmer of hope takes root, igniting a flame within Karai and me. Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against us, the diversion caused by the arrival of Captain America and Black Widow presents a narrow window of opportunity. Drawing upon our enhanced strength, we channel every ounce of resilience within us. The restraints that once held us captive now become feeble obstacles in the face of our unwavering resolve. With a surge of adrenaline coursing through our veins, we strain against the bindings, our muscles straining against the restraints. And then, with an explosive burst of power, the bonds give way, granting us the freedom we so desperately crave. Karai and I break free simultaneously, catching the Power Broker completely off guard. His eyes widen in disbelief as we rise from our once-confining pods, embodying the epitome of defiance.
Without hesitation, I spring forward, propelled by the adrenaline-fueled fury that courses through my veins. My fist collides with the Power Broker's face, delivering a swift and decisive blow. The impact reverberates throughout the chamber, serving as a resounding testament to the strength that fuels my actions. The Power Broker staggers backward, his eyes rolling back in his head as he succumbs to the force of the blow. In that fleeting moment, the room is filled with a resounding silence. The fallen Power Broker lies sprawled on the cold chamber floor, his unconscious form a stark contrast to the chaos that previously enveloped us. The taste of triumph lingers in the air, bittersweet and exhilarating all at once. As I stand over the fallen figure, a mixture of relief and a steely resolve washes over me. We have seized the moment, defying the seemingly insurmountable odds that were once stacked against us. But this victory is merely a stepping stone in the larger battle we find ourselves in. I cast a glance towards Karai, a silent acknowledgment passing between us, a shared understanding that the mission is far from over.
With our confiscated gear firmly in our grasp, Karai and I launch into action; our movements fill with urgency. The weight of the past, the suffocating atmosphere of the chamber, no longer holds sway over us. Like a tempest unleashed, we surge forward, our steps quick and purposeful. The air crackles with palpable energy as we break free from the confining walls, propelled by an unwavering spirit. Our minds are focused solely on the path ahead, our objectives clear.
[Steve Rogers POV]
[Hallway.] In the hallway, Natasha and I navigate swiftly, evading and neutralizing the obstacles presented by the CERBERUS soldiers blocking our path. With seamless coordination, we engage the enemy, swiftly incapacitating multiple foes through precise strikes and well-executed maneuvers. My shield serves as a formidable weapon, smashing through their defensive line with force, breaking their barriers, and creating a much-needed opening for us to advance. As we press forward, a squad of soldiers emerges from around the corner, their weapons at the ready. Reacting instinctively, I hurl my shield, swiftly dispatching three of them in a single motion. Taking advantage of the distraction, Natasha tosses a flash grenade at their feet, momentarily blinding and disorienting the remaining soldiers. Seizing the opportunity, I move in swiftly, closing the distance and swiftly eliminating the disoriented enemies.
Meanwhile, Natasha expertly flanks the remaining troopers, skillfully firing her pistols from a strategic position behind them. The combined assault overwhelms the last CERBERUS soldier, swiftly ending the confrontation. With the immediate threat eliminated, we take a moment to catch our breath, appreciating the temporary reprieve from the intensity of the ongoing battle.
A surge of instinctive awareness prickles the hair on the back of my neck. The once bustling hallway abruptly falls into an eerie silence devoid of any sound. A sense of foreboding hangs heavy in the air, and I can feel the tension radiating through every fiber of my being. Natasha, ever vigilant, also senses the shift in atmosphere and readies herself, adopting a poised and alert stance. We both understand that something formidable is about to transpire, and we prepare ourselves mentally and physically for the imminent threat that awaits us.
The wall on our right erupts in a shower of debris. In the midst of the chaos, two menacing metal tendrils emerge, swiftly wrapping themselves around my body and lifting me off the ground. The grip is firm and unyielding, leaving me suspended in mid-air. As I struggle against the unexpected restraint, my eyes lock onto the figure that steps forward from the gaping hole. Omega, a formidable adversary, strides forward with a sense of purpose. His imposing presence fills the room, and I brace myself for the battle ahead. But my attention is quickly drawn to the man who follows closely behind Omega, donning a dark green tactical suit. He wields a triangular shield. The sight of this mysterious figure raises questions and ignites a spark of recognition. Who is this man, and what is his purpose here? With my feet dangling off the ground, I prepare for the confrontation unfolding, knowing that I will need to summon every ounce of skill and strategy to overcome this new challenge.
A surge of electricity courses through the tendrils that ensnare me, causing searing pain to shoot through my body. A guttural cry of agony escapes my lips, a visceral response to the intense shockwaves that assail my senses. The electric current pulsates mercilessly, leaving me gasping for breath and struggling to maintain my composure. The pain is overwhelming, threatening to overpower me. Through gritted teeth, I fight against the torment, refusing to succumb to the incapacitating effects of the electrical charge.
Acting in swift, decisive motion, Natasha rapidly draws her pistols, aiming them directly at Omega, intent on neutralizing the immediate threat. However, her assault is interrupted by an unexpected interruption as the man wields the dark green tactical suit, and triangular shield springs into action, intercepting Natasha's advance. A fierce battle ensues between the two skilled combatants; their movements are fluid and precise. Each strike and parry is executed with calculated precision, showcasing their mastery of hand-to-hand combat. The clash of metal against metal reverberates through the air as their weapons collide, sparks flying in every direction. Natasha's agility and quick reflexes come into play as she expertly maneuvers around her opponent's shield, aiming to exploit any weaknesses. Her pistols unleash a flurry of bullets, each one carefully aimed at vulnerable points. Yet, her adversary proves equally formidable, using his shield with remarkable dexterity to deflect her attacks, effectively nullifying her offense.
The fight intensifies. Their movements become a blur as they exchange blows, their bodies in perfect sync with the rhythm of the battle. Each strike lands with calculated force, the sound of impact echoing through the surroundings. As the confrontation escalates, it becomes evident that this encounter is not just a clash of physical prowess but a battle of wits and strategy. Natasha's resourcefulness and adaptability are put to the test as she seeks to outmaneuver her opponent, exploiting any opening that presents itself.
With a sadistic grin, Omega relishes in my agony, reveling in the pain I endure. His words drip with malice and a perverse delight as he taunts me with the prospect of my impending demise. The sheer cruelty in his voice is enough to send a chill down my spine. His twisted intentions extend beyond my own suffering. Omega takes pleasure in inflicting pain upon those close to me, making it clear that he plans to subject Natasha to his depravity once he's finished with me. The vile nature of his words underscores his sadistic nature.
Fighting through the searing pain coursing through my body, I catapult the shield, aiming directly at the tendrils that ensnare me. The shield slices through the metallic restraints, freeing me from Omega's sadistic grasp. As I break free, relief washes over me, empowering me to face my adversary head-on. Locking eyes with Omega, my gaze burns with intensity. There will be no opportunity for him to carry out his vile intentions. I refuse to let him have the satisfaction of inflicting further harm or subjecting Natasha to his wicked desires. My voice drips with fury as I address Omega, making it clear that his malicious plans will not come to fruition. "No, you won't get the chance," I declare, my words laced with a resolute conviction.
Suddenly, a deafening explosion reverberates through the base, shaking the very foundations of our surroundings. The force of the blast ripples through the air, sending shockwaves of chaos and uncertainty in its wake. The ground beneath us trembles, threatening to knock us off balance. Instinctively, I brace myself against the impact, my body tensing as I try to maintain my footing. The unexpected blast catches everyone off guard, momentarily freezing the ongoing battle between Omega, the man with the shield, and Natasha. The explosion serves as a jarring interruption, momentarily halting the clash of forces. Smoke and debris fill the air, obstructing our vision and casting an eerie haze over the scene. It becomes evident that this explosion is not a mere accident but a deliberate act.
As the chaos of the explosion subsides, the urgent sound of my comlink pierces through the lingering haze. Spantan's voice crackles through the device, conveying a sense of urgency and alarm. "Cap, evac now! The whole base is coming down," he urgently warns. The revelation that Spantan was responsible for initiating the explosion takes me by surprise, but I quickly gather my wits. With the imminent threat of the collapsing base, there is no time to dwell on the details. The priority now is to ensure Natasha, and I get out. Without pausing to exchange another word, I instinctively grab Natasha's arm, our eyes meeting in silent agreement. Time is of the essence, and we both know that every second counts in this perilous situation. With a shared determination, we launch ourselves forward, sprinting towards the nearest exit with a single-minded focus. Omega and his partner are right on our heels.
The chaotic surroundings blur as we navigate through the crumbling corridors, debris raining around us. The urgency in our movements is palpable, fueled by adrenaline and the unwavering desire to escape the collapsing base unscathed. Natasha matches my pace, her agility and grace evident as we navigate the treacherous obstacles in our path. The once-familiar layout of the base has transformed into a labyrinth of danger, demanding our full concentration and swift reflexes. The sound of collapsing structures reverberates through the air, a constant reminder of the imminent threat that looms behind us. We push our bodies to the limit, relying on our training and instincts to propel us forward, never doubting our ability to overcome obstacles. Debris crashes from above, creating a barrier in the middle of the hallway, separating Omega and the man with the triangular shield from Natasha and me. The roaring sound of the collapsing base threatens to drown out our pounding footsteps.
I glance back, briefly catching a glimpse of Omega's infuriated expression as he is momentarily halted by the obstruction. The man with the shield is momentarily held at bay by the cascading rubble. It's a small respite, a brief reprieve from the immediate danger they pose. With this unexpected advantage, Natasha and I seize the opportunity. We quicken our pace, focusing on the path ahead and the exit that promises safety and escape. As we approach the exit, the dim light seeping through the cracks becomes a beacon of hope, guiding us toward safety. The rush of fresh air fills our lungs as we burst through the final barrier, emerging into the open space beyond the crumbling base.
We take a moment to catch our breath, our hearts pounding in sync with the adrenaline coursing through our veins. Our eyes meet, acknowledging the intensity of the situation. Relief washes over us as we spot Spartan and Karai running toward us. Together the four of us watch as the CERBERUS base collapses and burns, destroying the Lazarus Project in the process. A victory in a never-ending crusade. Now our focus shifts to the next mission against CERBERUS.