Hello everyone! First off, sorry for the delay - I didn't mean to leave Stevie falling out of a plane for two months. I was out of town, my husband got sick, and to put the cherry on top, I had a crippling bout of depression. (My depression likes to hide out and then jump on me intermittently when I think I'm "cured.") Thank you for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing. Especially when updates can be so infrequent.
Anyway - Weapon X awaits! I hope you'll be surprised and/or intrigued.
Note: I uploaded an earlier version of the chapter this afternoon, missing some edits. I think a paragraph was even out of place! So if you were confused earlier, please read this updated version!
Chapter 22 - Some time in November - Somewhere in Czechoslovakia
Consciousness returned to Stevie in bits and pieces. Cold stinging her hands and face. The sensation of movement, of being dragged, heels scraping over packed earth. Pain across her back, like someone had beaten her with a mallet, something tugging at her shoulders, biting at her wrists. Voices, soft and low.
"Just like she said. Margot will be insufferable for a week."
"Shut up, Stefan."
German voices. Even through the fog and the pain, Stevie knew what that meant. Capture.
"Or what? You aren't in charge. That gypsy bitch snaps and you jump like a trained dog."
"Trained dog? You'd lick the Doctor's boots if you thought it'd make him love you."
"Fuck you, Jewshit. I should burn out your fucking eyes."
"Try it, Polack. Dear Doctor would put you in the box for a year."
"I'm not afraid of the box."
Her German had improved over the last year, but she still caught only one word in three. Something about a gypsy...and something about a doctor. Zola? The voices were strange, but the words blurred and faded into static before she could figure out why.
She must have blacked out, because she suddenly came to, the earth under her heels replaced by gritty stone, the air damp and clammy. Underground? Some kind of cellar? Stevie held onto awareness, wracking her memory. I fell...The sky had been full of fire, Raisa's scream in her ear like a howling wind. Had the pilot been captured? Was she injured? Dead? What of the rest of the Commandos, caught in the ambush, on their own planes? Bucky.
Focus, Rodgers, Stevie reprimanded herself. You have one job right now, and that's to find a way out of this mess. If this "Doctor" was Zola, being at his mercy would be a fate worse than death.
Stevie slitted her eyes open as subtly as she could. Above her, a narrow arch of gray stone, shadows dancing in the yellow torchlight. She took advantage of a jostling bump to turn her head to the right, and saw a pair of worn, workmanlike boots. Small feet….Stevie remembered what she had found so strange about her captor's voices. They had been soft, and high. Not like men...like children.
A door opened with the squeal of an underused hinge.
"Ah, boys. There you are. I was beginning to wonder where you'd got to."
Stevie had never heard Doctor Arnim Zola speak, but she had a hard time imagining this strong, easy tone coming from the small, scared man she had seen in the factory in Kreichsberg.
If I'm going to try something, she thought. It has to be now. The only real advantage I have is surprise and that won't last…
"She's awake," a girl's voice said.
Stevie exploded into action. Bracing herself against whatever was holding her wrists, she swept her legs into the figure to her right, knocking him off his feet with a surprised yelp. The tension on her wrists vanished immediately and she snapped to her feet, wrenching the muscles in her stomach. Probably a busted rib or two. But there was no time to stop. She whirled to face her second captor, raising her manacled hands to deliver a crushing blow - and froze.
It was a boy, almost cherubic with his blond hair and blue eyes - smooth cheeks still bearing a hint of soft roundness. In one hand he held a torch. No, not a torch. A handful of naked flame, hovering above his palm.
What the - ?
Something seized Stevie's wrists from behind and jerked her into the air. She twisted and kicked, looking up to see what was holding her, how she could break free. But the heavy iron manacles were held up by - nothing. She dangled in midair, with absolutely nothing to support her. The boy she had kicked off his feet stood below her, dark eyes fixed on her, one hand spread in front of him. He was tall, with hair as black as patent leather and the angular awkwardness of an early growth spurt.
"Good recovery, Erik," the man's voice said, as he walked out from behind Stevie.
It definitely wasn't Zola. This man looked casually athletic, strong-shouldered and straight-backed, with a square jaw and a defined nose, sandy hair slicked back. He wore no uniform, but a tan sweater and necktie like some young college professor.
"Thank you, Doctor," the dark haired boy, who must be Erik, said.
"Stefan, you froze at the key moment. We will discuss this later."
"Yes, Doctor," the blond boy said, hands clenched, voice trembling just a little.
"But we are being impolite to our guest. Come, let us speak English." The Doctor regarded Stevie and smiled graciously. His accent was excellent. "Captain Rodgers. I've been so looking forward to meeting you."
"I'm afraid I can't say the same," Stevie retorted. "I've never heard of you." Dangling in midair, at the mercy of a Hydra "doctor," all she had was her bravado. And, by God, she was going to use it. "Do you hang all your guests from the ceiling?"
The Doctor chuckled. "Pardon me, Captain. My name is Karl Ritter. I studied psychiatry at Freidrich Wilhelm University while your...hmm...would you call him your mentor or your creator? In any case, Dr. Erskine taught there when I was a student. His theories always fascinated me - to think one day I'd meet the product of those theories face to face."
As Ritter talked, Stevie assessed her surroundings. Dim, cylindrical room about twenty feet in diameter, one entrance in front of her, large trap door in the floor below. The two boys stood near the door, a thin girl in a blue wool dress behind them. That must have been the girl whose voice Stevie had heard earlier - the one who had known she was awake. Behind the children a figure lay in a heap.
Raisa. She moved as Stevie watched, ever so slightly. She's alive.
Stevie's relief must have shown in her face, because Dr. Ritter glanced over his shoulder briefly before turning back to Stevie with a raised eyebrow.
"You see," the Doctor continued. "Erskine always believed that power came from the soul - as I do. 'It is the man,' he would always say...That is why that hack Zola will never be able to replicate his success. Serums and injections." Dr. Ritter made a moue of distaste. "True power resides within - in the mind. It only takes the correct tools to unlock it. The correct...stressors."
He gestured at the children standing uncomfortably behind him. "As you can see, I have already exceeded Erskine's success. I like to think of myself as the midwife of the new Reich - the true übermenschen."
"That's some big talk for a man who sends children to fight his battles for him."
The Doctor gave a little laugh, a warm, friendly chuckle that filled Stevie with potent unease.
"I've been wondering," he said pleasantly. "What would it take to unlock your mind, Captain? Physically, you are a perfect specimen - with great strength of will, as well, to overcome so many obstacles." He walked towards Raisa in measured strides.
"I'd start with your men, of course. You feel a great deal of responsibility for them, don't you? Their Captain...their leader and protector who delivered them from death. You even risked yourself to save a pilot who couldn't have meant that much to you." He crouched beside the unconscious woman and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. Stevie struggled uselessly.
"Yes," he said, looking back at Stevie. "I think that's where we will begin."
Even though they were within arm's reach of the doctor, the children refused to look at him, Stefan staring at his boots while Erik kept his eyes locked on Stevie's manacles, outstretched hand trembling.
Don't hurt her, don't hurt her, don't let him hurt her, Stevie thought desperately. The girl in the blue dress suddenly turned to Doctor Ritter and whispered something in his ear.
"Is that so? Thank you, my dear." He stood and dusted off his hands on his trousers. "Margot has informed me that you've attracted attention at the very highest levels. Apparently the Red Skull himself will be en route tomorrow." He smiled apologetically. "So our conversation will have to wait. Erik?"
The boy made a sweeping gesture. The trap door under Stevie's feet opened with a thump, and whatever force was holding her up vanished. She plunged into darkness.
Stevie hit the floor hard, buckling at the knees and rolling onto her back, adding new bruises on top of the old. Her shoulders were on fire, numb arms tingling back to life. Raisa hit the ground moments later with a noise like a sack of old shoes.
"Raisa!"
Above them, the trapdoor closed, leaving the two women in absolute darkness. Stevie crawled to Raisa and checked her for injuries as best as she could. The other woman was breathing and had a pulse. Hard to check for a concussion in the dark, but at least her skull wasn't caved in.
"Are you alright?" No answer, except a slight echo of her own voice.
"Stevie? Is that you?"
"Bucky?"
There was the scraping noise of boots and knees on stone as they scrambled towards each other. Stevie's hands hit a scratchy wool sleeve, fumbled up to a stubbled cheek.
"Bucky!"
He pulled Stevie into a rough embrace, almost knocking her to the floor. Her manacles clanked against his chest and she breathed in his familiar, comforting scent. Sweat and smoke - and something underneath. Blood?
"Thank God," Bucky said, clinging to her like a drowning man. "Thank God!"
Stevie hissed as pain stabbed down her side.
"Are you alright?" Bucky asked, pulling back slightly.
"Fine," Stevie replied. "Just hit a few trees on the way out of the plane."
Bucky growled. "Don't you ever, ever, do that to me again. I thought you were dead." He touched her face, her lips. The gentleness of his hands belied the ferocity of his tone. "Do you have any idea what you happen to me if you died?"
"I'll keep that in mind." Stevie found herself suddenly breathless. "The next time I fall out of an airplane."
Bucky's hands, holding hers, were covered in tacky abrasions, knuckles scabbed, nails rough and cracked. As if he had been clawing at the walls, beating at them with his fists. He must have been terrified, Stevie thought. To be captured and caged by Hydra again. And to Doctor Ritter he would be a tool - a "stressor" to apply to her mind.
We have to get out of here.
She tried to reach out with her senses, scenting the air. It was even colder and clammier than the chamber above - the stones were damp, moisture seeping through the cracks. It smelled of rust, of mold, of disuse and neglect.
"What's the situation?" Stevie asked, trying to make her voice brisk, captainly. "How deep would you say we are?"
"Not sure," Bucky replied, matching her tone. "I did try climbing, jumping. Didn't get very far. Room's at least twenty paces across, chains set in the walls every so often. Tried to pull one out, but they're pretty firm. Maybe you could get somewhere..."
"It might not help," Stevie said. "There was a boy upstairs who could...move things...without touching them. Pulled me right up to the ceiling by my wrists."
No, not by the wrists, Stevie thought. By the chains...
"A kid?" Bucky said, voice strange.
"What?"
"Just...after I saw you fall, I...jumped after you…"
"Not a wise move, sergeant."
Bucky kept talking as if she hadn't interrupted. "There was a kid. Popped out of a shadow I would've sworn was empty. Touched my arm and it felt like I'd been zapped by a live wire."
They sat in silence for a moment. Kids with superpowers. Stevie thought. First the Runestone, then Leviathan, and now it's goddamn kids with superpowers.
Somewhere in front of them, Raisa moaned, interrupting Stevie's train of thought. She edged carefully across the floor to help the other woman sit up.
"Are we alive?" Raisa asked hoarsely.
"Last time I checked," Stevie said, trying to be reassuring. "How are you?"
"My head hurts like a мудак," Raisa said. "Don't suppose either of you have any vodka on you?"
"They took it," Stevie replied wryly. "Along with my shield and sidearm."
"Your shield!" Raisa took Stevie's arm. "Captain, some ребенок threw your shield at me, while I was trying to wake you up, after we landed. He threw it without touching it..."
"Pebenok?" Stevie asked. She didn't know much Russian, but this she had heard before. "You mean a kid?"
Stevie's mind was whirling. She remembered Doctor Ritter's proud gesture at the three children. The new übermenschen, he had called them. The girl, Margot, whispering to the Doctor. The Red Skull will be en route tomorrow. How had she known? How had the fighters known where the planes would be - how did the children know where she and Bucky would land?
"I think we found Weapon X," Stevie said.
Off to one side, there was the sound of door opening, a movement of air. The three captives leapt to their feet, only to draw back, shielding their eyes, as a lantern flared to life. In the warm light, Margot's pale face floated like a specter.
"Yes," she said, in answer to a question she could not have heard. "You have."
Weapon X! It was hard to balance the exposition in this chapter, so let me know how well I did, or if anything confused you.
Next up: Escape from the evil fortress lab with a bunch of mutant kiddos.