#chap5

“How do you know that, Scott?”, Wanda yelped as they were running through the compound. Where they were headed - she had no idea. The man that could shrink to the size of an ant had rushed out of the gym and now, he had Wanda and Clint on his tail. He stopped all of the sudden and immediately had Wanda crashing into him. Scott sent quick looks to both sides, he looked very confused, then frowned. “What is it, Scott?” “I still have no idea which hallway we’re on. What!? This palace is huge and every level looks the same!” “Oh God”, Clint mumbled, “not again. For starters, just tell us what you know.” “The ants”, Scott whispered. “We found proof he paid a lot of money to the CIA. For what - no clue. But he did. And you saw the Winter - Buck- Barnes’s file.” “Okay. Let’s go to T’Challa with that. He might be able to do something, at least get us out of here so we can help.” Wanda’s head turned and she sent a look through the big windows lining this hallway. She noticed the unusually busy runways of the royal airport. “Are you coming?”, Clint asked, already standing by the other end of the hallway. She nodded, flowing her two friends, hoping that the king would be able to do something for her friends. They arrived at the palace’s royal quarters after thirty minutes, after having had to wait at least ten minutes at the over-conscientious security control of the Hatut Zeraze. To their surprise, they were urged to wait. The king was busy, in a confidential political meeting right now. Hadn’t all politicians been secured?

“It’s not a secret that I have a past with the CIA, your highness. Against the council’s notion, I could arrange a collaboration and turn this situation to our favor. The CIA in London operates on a lead that points at a yet unknown asset, my king.” He eyed the king, for a reaction revealing what the Black Panther felt about the head of the SIW’s leader and his line of action that had undoubtedly been bold. To go behind the Council’s back had definitely not been a wise decision, but this wasn’t a standard situation either. But T’Challa’s face was unreadable. “Unknown? How is that? No entries in our databases?” “Not a single one. The only trace you could establish would result from putting his name behind all unsolved victims of the past… fifty, maybe sixty years?” “Another Winter Soldier?” Lomawu shook his head, pulling out the modified beads lining his wrist, special high-tech devices every authority in Wakanda was equipped with. Several passwords protected the classified content he stored on there. A hologram was pulled up, containing a file with not just a few, but more than half the standard categories blank, a true testimonial of this asset’s nebulous identity. “If you were looking for the wind, you would not find it in this breeze.” “Agreed, my king. I have information, however, that claims the current mission of the Remnant is to kill Steve Rogers.” “Is that definitive?” “Very. Based on the calculations we applied after the incident surrounding Mr. Barnes in his quarter, based on, well, everything we could collect, the asset is unpredictable. There has been a direct attack on Captain Rogers and Mr. Wilson in Belgium yesterday. To continue engagement in my protocols, I require permission of lethal action on sight, Sir.”

The Black Panther still sat on his throne, unmoving, like the real beasts out in the jungle that could stay in a position for hours. One of his hands was touching his chin and cheek, he was thinking while staring what seemed like a hole into his advisor and subordinate. “Do you not recommend our incarcerating facilities?” “May I quote one of your grandfather’s sayings, your highness? Every fortress has a door. I’m convinced that this asset is enhanced and Hydra holds the leash tight. Forgive me for being blunt, but how many more Wakandan lives are you willing to slaughter for the Americans?”
The king furrowed his brows, gaze steady and his body in an elegant posture. It was a good question, one that he couldn’t afford to have overseen and trampled over. A guard stepped in, bowing his head respectfully. “Mr. Barton, Miss Maximoff and Mr. Lang request an audience, Sir.” “They shall not speak to me today, but my words may reach them still. They are expected to pack their gear and meet at the hangars in two hours.” The guard disappeared right away, honoring all the strict palace protocols. “You have never disappointed me or my father, Lawrence. I trust your judgement. Permission granted. Make sure to prevent any further disaster.” Mr. Lomawu bowed, stepping forward to display the traditional gesture of gratefulness before his king. He took the fine, ornamented spoon from the side of the throne to dip it into the small bowl of the king’s exquisite oil and sprinkled it onto his feet, Immediately, a wonderful, rich scent between the two men, telling tales of childhood and secret places deep within the jungle. After that, he removed himself from the mighty Black Panther’s presence, backwards, like ancient rule prescribed. He had just reached the door when T’Challa raised his voice again. “Oh, and Lawrence? Take the Americans. They shall assist you in your hunt.” Lomawu bowed and left the room. He couldn’t say he was happy about this turn of events, but he didn’t complain. Obstacles were challenges, not stop signs.

It would be easy to convince the three leftover Avengers to join the hunt for the unknown attacker that had freed the Winter Soldier. Also, it had attacked them during the Captain’s absence. Lawrence smiled. Zola had shown him his plan and it was a plan of victory. Pierce had failed, but the Avengers were split. Good conditions for Project Awakening. The loyalty these three remaining Avengers had for Steve Rogers was going to be his fall.

Germany. The Autobahn was a blessing. In just two and a half hours, the silver Audi had covered over 230km and flown by two major cities, each offering hundreds of places to stay. And they had stayed at a tiny little motel to just rest and nurse each other up, to eat and sleep, even despite Natasha’s determinedness to keep their course on Cologne. But now, they’d reached Germany’s Ruhr Area, they’d reached Cologne. “The whole city’s celebrating the Carnival right now. With those masses of people, surveillance is a bitch. We’ll be safe for… well, at least a day.” Steve wasn’t sure if they would stay hidden there for long enough to figure everything out - what Hydra was planning to do and what would happen to Bucky, but they had an important source in their car and Steve swore to himself that he would make this man talk if he denied them information. His mind couldn’t relax, even with the humming of the car and the jazzy music Sam had put on. It went over the conversation from the hotel room over and over again. She’s asking me a question she already knows the answer to and he doesn’t ask the one question he actually wants answered. What did that mean? Of course, Steve hadn’t mentioned Bucky once, keeping his vulnerable spot hidden, but Natasha? What did she ask that she already knew? Steve had supposed the doctor just asked that to create a feeling of uncertainty, that it didn’t mean anything else. That’s how Hydra works, he told himself, even when they know they lost, they still create confusion and chaos everywhere they can.

So, making sure the man who was spread out over his side of the back row was still unconscious, Steve searched for Natasha’s eyes in the rearview mirror. She was quiet, too quiet, hadn’t even complained about Sam’s music once by now. What was she thinking about? What if she knew much more than she pretended to - no. Steve didn’t want to believe that Natasha was pretending anything right now. She’d shared all the relevant information with them - right? Then, all of the sudden, he remembered how much time Nat actually spent at the Hydra building. The video hadn’t been that long. And she still hadn’t explained why she didn’t make it out on time. The little bag that was placed in the foot room of the back row caught his attention. She’d kept the file about Bucky in there. He remembered how for a moment, he thought he’d seen brown paper in there. Brown like a manila file. Was there a second file? About Bucky? Slowly, he bent down, grabbing the bag. Natasha didn’t notice, she kept her eyes on the street. Steve’s fingers brushed against hard paper and when he pulled it out, his eyes went wide. It was a file. It wasn’t thick, just like Bucky’s, but it wasn’t about the Winter Soldier. Red letters, all Russian, covered the front and when he opened the file, there was no photo, just text. He knew a few Russian words Nat had taught him, enough to decipher “Hydra property” and “assassin”. His eyes went wide. What was this? Then, there was one entry on the bottom that made him wonder what was actually going on. It was in English and dated. “Recent status: Instructions enforced”. Just then, the paper made a sound and Sam turned around. “Where did you get that?”, he asked, clearly confused as Bucky’s file was safe in the glove compartment. “Maybe you should ask Natasha that”, Steve replied and Sam’s eyes shot to Nat immediately. Her face pulled into a frown. “That’s none of your business.” “Oh yeah, it is. If this is what you compromised our trip to Paris for, I wanna know what I’m holding right now.” Sam wasn’t sure when he’d heard Steve so full of authority the last time, but it definitely took him back to when they infiltrated the Shield headquarters. He was glad he was sitting in the front of the car right now. “I agree”, he stated. “I’m not risking my ass for just any secrets.” Natasha clenched her teeth. She’d wanted to keep this confidential, not making the two men feel like she’d used them for her own goals. Although she had, maybe just a little. “Those are files about a Hydra asset I’ve tried to locate since a few years - without success. That one is untraceable. But I believe it was him who stole Stark’s tech a month ago.” “I can’t believe you just - wait. What happened to Tony’s tech?” Steve’s face went from mad to worried. Why hadn’t he heard of this? No matter how big the break-up of the Avengers had been, this was a big deal for Tony. Damn it. That idiot was way too proud to ask for help. Steve rolled his eyes. “As if you missed that too. The SIW must’ve kept you out of everything.” “Nat, what do you know?”, Steve was impatient. If she didn’t have a good explanation for this… well, he didn’t know what to do, but he would be deeply disappointed. Natasha hesitated, it was obvious she insisted on keeping the intel to herself, but with the pointed look Steve shot at her, she complied. “Okay, so Tony was working on some tech that was gonna help Rhodes walk. You know that he’s still paralyzed. The device was supposed to send electric impulses from the brain to Rhodes’ legs so he could overcome his body’s disability. It was almost finished, then someone stole it, leaving no traces. As soon as I heard of it, I went over, looking for leads.” “Tony asked you for help? I can’t imagine he wasn’t pissed at you after your stunt at Leipzig.” “Oh no. He didn’t even know I was there. I found a mark I remembered from Russia, way back, when I was trained in the Red Room.” Sam furrowed his brows while he Steve noticed how tight Nat was gripping the steering wheel. It must be incredibly hard to share all of that, he thought. This was personal stuff, after all. Behind the windshield, the autobahn disappeared and rows of city houses came into view. “Check the file”, Natasha continued. “The asset is called-” “The Remnant”, the doctor finished. Sam jumped; no one had noticed the doctor had regained consciousness. “And there’s not a mission the Remnant failed.” “What’s his mission now?”, Steve pressed. The grin the doctor gave him annoyed every single cell in his body, but he didn’t act on it. Not yet. “Well, it’s almost over already. The Winter Soldier is back out there and you’re not going to escape Hydra this time. You should know, the Remnant is like the Sergeant, a little more compliant, luckily. A real animal, aggressive if kept hungry. There’s no getting away, there has never been. Once you’re a target, you can choose your tombstone.” “We’ll see about that”, Steve replied. “I liked him better when he was sleeping”, Sam mumbled.

Natasha steered the car deeper into the city, proving she’d been right. Thousands of people were on the streets, celebrating Carnival, all dressed up and throwing around candy. Everything was colorful and loud and suddenly, the four of them were only crouching through the streets. Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to come here. Sure, they wouldn’t be spotted here, but a getting out of the city quickly? Not possible. Sam opened the roof’s window, shrugging when Natasha shot him a worried look. “Maybe we’ll catch some candy.” Steve still wasn’t satisfied with the information they’d received. He figured it was logical the mole in Wakanda had supplied Hydra with the information of Sam and his’ departure. It was all planned, somehow. He still eyed the doctor very suspiciously. He hadn’t told them everything. “What else do you know? How do you know the Remnant?” “Barnes wasn’t my only responsibility, Captain.” Steve felt very uncomfortable. His eyes flitted back and forth from the windows to the doctor, wary of police presence and any signs of danger. He spotted mounted police. “And what are they gonna do to him?” Because whatever it is, I’m not going to let that happen. The doctor stared at him for a long while. “As much as you blame yourself, you never actually had any control over life, Captain. You know that you can’t protect me from their assets, right? If they want me to die, I will. This shot“, he pulled his shoulder forward for display of the nasty wound, “was a promise. I probably won’t make the night.” Sam huffed. “Do you even know who you’re sitting in a car with!? This is a veteran of World War Two. This is Steve Rogers.” Obviously, Sam tried to defend Steve, but the latter just wished Sam hadn’t. “And tell me, Steve Rogers, how did protecting your family work out?” Steve was grim. “I don’t have a family.” There was bitterness in his eyes. “What else do you have on the Remnant? When is he coming for us?” They came up to a red light at an intersection. “Faster than you think. Actually, the Remnant is not-”, something crashed through the window, right before Steve and into the doctor’s head. A bullet. Blood spilled everywhere. Headshot. He was dead right away. Sam yelped, Nat pressed on the gas. Steve’s head shot towards the high buildings. He didn’t see any sniper. Where the heck…? Suddenly, something sunk into Sam’s arm. It was a split second, but Steve saw it. It came through the roof’s window. Sam pulled out a little dart, smearing the blood on his arm. Natasha couldn’t go fast, too many people in the way. “Get out of the car!”, she screamed. Right then, Sam passed out. The dart. Steve gasped. It must’ve been poisoned. He jumped out of the car and pulled his friend out. He needed to get to a hospital right now. Crap, crap, crap. What were they supposed to do? They’d be detained before they could reach the front desk.

Right now, they stood in the middle of the street. They couldn’t stay here, not with a sniper around. But Nat positioned herself behind the car, using it as shield while pulling her handguns out. She shooed a lot of people away, too. “Steve!”, she shouted. “Wash the wound with water!” Steve looked at Sam on the ground. His eyes were closed. Save him. Just when he took the arm in his hands, Sam started to convulse, and, much worse, to choke. Steve wasn’t sure what this poison was, but he poured a whole bottle of water over the wound. He couldn’t actually do much for Sam right now. Nat spotted the sniper quickly, he stood on the roof of a multi-apartment house, already packing his gear. She watched as he moved over the edge, climbing down the balconies with rapid ease. But he hadn’t reached her range yet. Suddenly, there were two mounted police riding towards the same house and Nat let out a breath of relief. “Looks like we’re not the only ones who spotted the sniper“, she said, half-turning to Steve and Sam to see how they were doing. Sam had stopped choking and Steve, an almost- panicked Steve, was performing CPR. A shiver ran down her back. They couldn’t lose Sam. Oh God. She turned back, back to where the attack had come from. The sniper just reached the ground, jumping the last three stories down at once. The police was waiting down there, one of the officers had gotten off his horse, and walked towards the sniper. Shit, this is the guy who freed Barnes. The Remnant. He’ll kill them. The police won’t stand a chance against this asset.

Momentarily paralyzed by the realization of how few options she actually had, Natasha watched the scene before her eyes unfold like a nightmare. The police officers walked right up to the Remnant, but to her surprise, the different parties only exchanged a few words. The police officer took the asset’s long range gun and handed over his horse. With one swift motion, the Remnant sat in the saddle, rifle on the back and knives in his belt. The other police officer threw a semiautomatic at him, then rode off. Shit. The Remnant was maybe 250 meters away from her and with Sam in need of CPR, they couldn’t run. A police car appeared in the street. Backup. They wouldn’t make it out alive either. Suddenly, shots were fired. Horrified, Natasha realized that the Remnant had killed every police officer in the car. The good guys. “We need to get away”, she yelled at Steve, turning around to see him holding Sam in a sitting position. He waved slowly at her. Thank God. Nat could already hear the clattering of hooves against the asphalt and with every second passing, she grew more anxious. Steve stood up, looking at her very seriously. “You two, run. The Carnival is a huge event. There should be ambulances around. Find one, get him out of here.” She nodded, but wondered if Sam could run. He stood up, but she realized immediately how dizzy he was. The horse came closer. Nat handed Steve a gun and a knife. “Kill him”, she warned before hiding under the car with Sam. As soon as the rider had passed them, they crawled out on the other side and leave.

Steve, however, began running immediately. He passed a few houses, following a street, yelling at people to get away, to get into the houses and stay in there. A bridge came up before him, a bridge over a river. He ran onto it despite realizing that the long trail didn’t really offer many hiding spots. Blood rushed through his ears. More shots. Crap. Where do I go? The Remnant must be close already. From the corner of his eye, he saw a post with a little sign on top, picturing a man falling into the water. Probably a warning. Steve needed it, the post, pulled it out of the ground and ran. The doctor’s words rushed through his mind. If they want me to die, I will. No, Steve would not die. Not again. Not today, Steve swore. Too many people needed him. He noticed, though, that the shots sounded different than usually. The attacker used silencers, they didn’t want anyone to notice. A bullet whizzed past his arm and Steve jumped behind the railing that separated the sidewalk from the railroad tracks on the other side of the bridge. Thousands of padlocks hung there, on the metal grating, deflecting bullets for him. He ripped part of his uniform on something sharp, but didn’t get shot. The sniper had reached him by now, the police horse galloping past his position. Steve jumped out just in time to stick the metal rod in his hands out, creating an obstacle for the horse, to knock the rider out of the saddle. But no one was on there. The horse complained loudly, skidding over the rough asphalt. It got back up quickly and ran. At least it shoved people out of the way. But the Remnant was gone. Steve’s head whipped around, eyes narrowing in concentrated anticipation. Where was he?

For a moment, Steve heard only the rushing of the water underneath him and some music from the city parades. The next second, the tiniest gush of wind reached him. In one fluid motion, the asset jumped onto his shoulders, attacking without mercy. He must’ve hidden higher up in the bridge. Steve’s muscles protested against the sudden weight. His hands shot up, came back bleeding. The Remnant pressed against Steve’s windpipe. The rough knuckle gloves dug into his skin, creating marks. He’s gonna choke me. The grip wound tighter and Steve’s throat was on fire. He couldn’t breathe! His hands grabbed the shin of the Remnant. With one fast motion, Steve yanked at it and the grip on his throat loosened. Steve sensed his opportunity and slammed himself against a big pillar. To crush the attacker up there for almost making him suffocate. But the Remnant jumped off at the last moment, rolled over on the asphalt. He was moving way too fast. His quick reflexes had protected him from Steve.

The Remnant wore a muzzle too, like the Winter Soldier, and a dark gray uniform. Something like a stick was on his back, right next to the gun. His face only showed two cold blue eyes. The face’s skin was smudgy; dirt, blood and paint were on there. Steve had never fought anyone radiating aggressiveness like the Remnant. Maybe Batroc. But Batroc moved slower. It made the super soldier wonder what barbaric things Hydra had done to this person. They’d turned him into a thing. An animal. Steve received an elbow into his throat, making him cough, making his back vulnerable. The Remnant kicked him in the back of his knees. He brought Steve to the ground. A knife gleamed over the soldier’s head and to get free, he kicked the asset in the balls. He didn’t get a reaction from him. The asset wasn’t in pain. Without hesitation, he swung around, sending Steve flying onto the rails. Gravel and stones dug into Steve’s body, grazing the skin on his hands with a stinging hotness. He could feel bruises forming almost everywhere. This guy was not as heavy as expected, but incredibly agile and fast. A strong succession of punches followed, both of their knuckles bled at this point. There was no beauty in it. Only pain. Suddenly, the metal on the ground vibrated softly, making an odd sound. The train! The train was coming. Steve jumped up, leaving the rails and tried to move onto the small ledge the Remnant stood on. But the latter kicked him down, not allowing him to get away from the rails. His eyes were so hard, so focused, screaming dominance in this fight. As if that was the default in every fight. Had Steve ever fought someone who resisted that much? Other than Bucky Barnes? Steve tried to climb up the ledge again, but received a hard punch in the face. It split his lip. His tongue felt numb. With one strong pull, Steve slammed the Remnant onto the rails. Something cracked. Probably the Remnant’s arm. The feeling of the break echoed through Steve’s mind, making him shiver when it mixed with the sound. But it was a good sign - no metal limbs. Not another Winter Soldier. But something was off - he knew that since the first punch he’d had to swallow, even before that. This asset was too quiet, his punches too strong. Steve had fought experienced fighters before, the STRIKE unit had given him a taste of it in DC, the Wakandan SIW had shown him their skills. But this one - it was a mix of sly experience and incredible skill. Because it felt like Steve couldn’t get a grip on him, the asset’s blue eyes calculated so much faster than normal soldiers did, he anticipated and reacted aggressively. He resisted against Steve, much like the Winter Soldier had before. The Remnant was an opponent able to hurt Steve. Not only because of his body’s abilities but because he must’ve studied the soldier beforehand. He’d watched him and learned. It made him unpredictable. Steve felt a hue of cold fear crawling up his spine like a ladder. It scared him that Hydra had a second soldier who was familiar with his movements and his body. As if the Remnant had been specifically trained to kill him. Impossible. Right?

Steve remembered the gun Nat had given him. Kill him. He reached for it. It was gone. Nothing in his belt. Where -? He looked up, his eyes narrowing. Steve’s gun was in the hands of the Remnant. He’d stolen it. The doctor hadn’t been exaggerating. The Remnant lunged at the soldier, from the left side, the one that was slightly weaker than the other. Steve gripped the asset at the neck, suddenly holding dark brown braided hair in his hand. Braided? The Remnant was strong, squirming under the super soldier’s iron grip. The asset kicked his shin multiple times and crushed his toes. Steve would be blue and green tomorrow. But he held onto the hair. Nat had supplied him with a knife as well. He didn’t manage to cut the Remnants’ throat, not with that shaking and squirming. Hold still, damn it! All the knife reached was the braids. It was a strange sound when it cut through the hair. Steve shoved him, onto the rails again and down there, the mask of the Remnant fell. It was a terrible déjà-vu, one that even Steve’s nightmares couldn’t have created. He froze instantly, ignoring the vibration of the rail tracks. No. He could feel his heart skip a beat, just like back in DC, when he’d suddenly recognized Bucky in the Winter Soldier. No, please no. The word came out shakier than he intended, but he needed to make sure. Please, no. “Rebecca?”, he breathed, but there was no reaction from the girl. The face, the eyes, and, the hair, brown and now, shoulder-length. She looked just like Bucky. Exactly like him. But she didn’t speak. They must’ve conditioned them to not react to anyone after Bucky talked to me and went rogue. Then, the girl bared her teeth at him, moving into a defensive position. A gush of wind reached him and new adrenaline bolted through his system. The train! As fast as he could, Steve ran and jumped over the grating of the bridge, into the river. The river slammed against him, forcing the air out of his lungs. From down there, he could see the girl - Rebecca? - jumping up easily and climbing up into the green steel construction of the bridge, even with a broken arm, right before the train thundered over the bridge. A chopper appeared in the sky and moved towards the bridge, close enough to have the girl jump. She held onto the helicopter’s landing skids with the one intact hand, her eyes scanning the river underneath. A boat rushed through the water next to Steve and the suction pulled him under, thrashing his tired body against the wall of the ship. The waves were powerful, pulling from below with vicious, greedy arms, but he grabbed onto the front side of the boat and remained there, invisible to Hydra. When he looked back to the bridge, they were gone. Police cars had appeared on the bridge. But she was completely gone. The cold water licked Steve’s wounds until they burned. Now he would just have to find Natasha and Sam. All Steve could feel was nausea. He couldn’t believe it. Rebecca. You never actually had any control over this life, Captain.

The evening was rough. Steve had left the river hours ago, but still felt the cold seeping through his muscles. He hadn’t managed to find Sam and Nat. After realizing how stupid he was for telling Nat to get Sam to a hospital, he had thrown away the city map he’d taken from a small, messy souvenir shop. Everyone would recognize them, after Berlin and especially, after thrashing the airport in Leipzig. Crap, he thought. Nat and Sam could be anywhere. That led him to get another city map, which he unfolded, huffed at and put back into his pockets. While most of the people here remained carefree, running around in costumes and yelling words he didn’t understand, Helau Alaaf, a drunk person with a hideous green wig even complimenting him on his outfit, Steve just stood in front of the over-towering cathedral, shoulders slacked, head hanging and heart low. Steve sighed and after a few more minutes of resignation, he shook his head. Rebecca. It wasn’t her, she had died and Steve had seen her grave and Steve just didn’t know. Bucky had died too. Right? The thought of him buried in an empty coffin. But Rebecca hadn’t even joined the war, how would Zola-? What if they took her for leverage against Bucky? To break him? Steve didn’t want to believe it, but the memory of her face told him otherwise. Sure, there were a few features that were different, that didn’t look entirely like Rebecca’s, but the young woman was her. Undoubtedly. She must’ve grown. Steve scratched his head. Buck had been 26 when he entered the war, Rebecca was five years younger than him, she would still be in her twenties, depending on when Hydra had torn their dirty claws into her. Rebecca, sweet Rebecca. The last time he’d seen her was 1940, she’d been just out of boarding school and returned to Brooklyn to visit. She lived with Grandma Barnes then and made the best casserole Steve had ever eaten, he still remembered the feast that had been. She’d worn Sarah’s old apron. And now, she was ready to kill him, just like her brother.

His eyes flitted over the big plaza before the dome, carefully checking all the rooftops for snipers and all the advantage points for any sign of Hydra. One last look up the stunning architecture of the huge cathedral, a remnant of the past, just like him. He turned around but noticed the police officer standing a few steps behind him. He wasn’t looking his way, but Steve would have to just assume that he was Hydra, or, if not, still looking for him. The soldiers’ eyes fell on the radio that was clipped onto the policeman’s belt. If he’d be able to snatch that away, his chances to find Sam increased by a hundredfold. Surely, the “police“ had spotted Nat and maybe there was a way to get Rebecca’s location. Also, a police radio was a good alarm system. If they followed him, Steve would know. So he reached out, and with a slow, but controlled motion, the radio was out of the belt. The first steps, Steve walked, but then he jogged, to the other side of the cathedral, his heart beating fast. But the radio was his. “That wasn’t very nice”, someone said and Steve turned around, caught in the act, heart beating fast. His knees were bent, his arms ready for the next fight. A girl was staring at him, with an eyebrow raised. Had she seen him? But then he noticed the cane in her hands and how her eyes were closed. Blind. That still didn’t give him any relief. What did she know? How long had she been standing there? “You’re right”, he answered slowly, hoping to get out of this situation as fast as possible. “Aren’t you supposed to beat the bad guys?” If not before, he was definitely struggling with his words now. What did she know? Who else knew? He looked at this girl who couldn’t even see him. “You recognized me.” “Yeah, the police is trying to catch Captain America since hours. That idiot fell into the Rhine. We don’t have any suicide jumpers and only few people are stupid enough to take a bath in that filthy soup people call a river. Your shoes are squeaky.” “Look, kid, I don’t want to get you in trouble. You should get out of here.” She grinned. He wondered how old she was. She looked like fourteen, fifteen. “I’m already in trouble. We all make mistakes, don’t we? But your friends. They’re in the St. Antonius hospital, that’s three kilometres from here.” She actually pointed into a direction, although Steve wasn’t sure if he could trust her directions. "Thanks, kid”, the smile Steve did was a little crooked, but he meant it. “No, thank you for saving us.” However kind-hearted that sounded, it felt like another punch in the gut. Steve didn’t have the heart to crush this girls’ hopes and dreams, so he just whispered his reply to himself. “I haven’t even saved anyone yet”, it sounded pathetic. But this girl, with the stunning hearing range of a blind person, heard better than Steve had hoped, and replied with a kind smile. “But you will. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.” He furrowed his brows, because, well, how could she know how strong he was? “You haven’t even seen me.” I’m a mess. “I don’t need my eyes to see. I know they’re not gonna catch you. Have they ever, really?” She walked off after that, joined by two teenagers who’d just run up the Domplatz stairs. They linked their arms with hers, laughing when she said something funny. One of them took her cane and with her in between them, they guided her over the stairs. Was that what family meant? That your family carried you despite your disabilities? While he got moving, that thought didn’t let go of him. Maybe for once, he wasn’t the one carrying everyone around, maybe this time, he was the blind girl in the middle.

Doors opened, letting in a gush of cold air that swept up the nervousness that the five scientists exhaled in this former hospital room they occupied. Guards entered, mercenaries with enough weapons to bring down an entire police station. Steps echoed in the empty hallway, announcing the presence of three more people. Handcuffs clicked. It took a dozen more nerve-rattling seconds for the people to enter the former medical room, two of them with heavy steps, but the third with steps not audible despite wearing combat boots. The asset’s eyes were on the ground, guard’s hands on her shoulders, restraining her additionally to the obligatory harness on her back that had her wrists chained behind her back and fixated by chains of the collar around her neck. It wasn’t that - the heavy restraints, not even the kevlar- reinforced muzzle in front of the lower half of her face - that took the scientists’ breath away. Especially one of them, a younger staff member who’d worked in this job for only two years, was taken aback with the change in atmosphere the moment the asset had stepped into the room. By the belligerence radiating off this subject, like she understood combat was her purpose and aggressiveness her truest self. And maybe it was. It was an understatement, however, to say that despite all confidentiality, this asset had a reputation. At least in his department, seeing that no one else was allowed to even know she existed.

The asset had taken place in the center of the room, on an examination table. Its surface shimmered silver in the grey gleam of the moon’s light that fell though the windows, but now, drops of blood flew onto it, destroying its former sterility. Following protocol, the room’s lights were turned on slowly, everyone was trying to create a soft increase of light. The young scientist nervously checked the sheet of paper on his clipboard, stepping towards the asset on the table, who was surrounded by two other scientists assessing vital signs. Of course, he’d heard the rumors where people said that this asset could smell fear on you. And of course, he’d also seen the damage the asset had done last week, the broken necks and the bloody throats. A bead of sweat tickled his neck and the young scientist just prayed the asset wouldn’t know he was scared. Too bad Rumlow wasn’t around anymore. He’d been a beast himself. At least they could trust Rollins to have their backs. But he tried to push his fear away, to focus on the numbers dictated to him and to scribble them down in the correct order. Everyone was following the security protocol this time. They’d be alright.

The young man knew the orders. Avoid touch, any kind of contact and verbal approach. He breathed heavily when he stood right before her, awaiting his colleagues’ next request, determine her pulse, desperately trying to ignore how blood-stained these combat pants were. How much power these legs held, how several knives stuck in sheaths on there, how the asset’s eyes followed him the entire time. He just wanted to get this over with, to be honest. Because his heart was beating way too fast right now at the possibility of a very sudden and very painful death. He’d seen it happen before to the personnel. He knew she could do it. She never had hurt him, not really, but who knew when that streak would end? Even with his trust in Hydra’s conditioning, there was no way to underestimate this asset. They took the upper part of her combat gear off, leaving an open view of the damage on the asset. A thin shirt and a sport bra covered her skin, but let them see all they needed to focus on. Thanks to years of training, she knew what they wanted to see. Not the many scars hidden under her skin, covered by the SecondSkin- Technology™ developed for her. In the blink of an eye, her skin changed from a healthy color to what needed to be worked on. Everything on the surface right now were some deep bruises and a terrible looking arm. They’d work overtime to get the asset mission-ready again, but there was nothing the team couldn’t fix. For now, though, anesthetics would have to do the job. Finally, they were done. The young scientist made the mistake of looking up for a brief moment, meeting the Remnant’s eyes. Icy blue pushed him back with a determination only intensified by how she bared her teeth at him behind the half see-through muzzle. He staggered backwards, until his back hit the wall and he felt the distance between him and the asset was big enough to be called safe. If there even was a condition called safe when the assassin was in the place.

More steps sounded through the hallway and one of the asset’s supervisors stepped in, accompanied by a man resembling the man he worked for only in skin color and attitude. The young scientist immediately recognized this man from last week, when he had come with Mr. Lomawu, who, apparently, didn’t have the means to appear today. Well. This man, with the military haircut and a determination in his step that probably shared the origin of military, eyed the room with a strict gaze and waved a handful of STRIKE unit guards in. Rollins secured the doorway. Whatever the man - his name tag spelled Djenge - planned, it couldn’t be good if he needed more guns in the room for it. The young scientist could tell Mr. Djenge wasn’t one to be messed with, one of those who were the top dogs in Hydra right now, in a time that the organization was reduced to only very few units and divisions. The man exchanged a few words with the subject’s supervisor, demanded vitals plus further information and nodded. Next, the mission report was delivered, but it didn’t take a scientist to tell that her voice sounded way too raspy, too rough. “What day is it for her?”, Djenge inquired. “Day Fourteen, Sir.”

They talked a few minutes longer, in hushed tones. As much the scientists wished that things hadn’t changed, that they wouldn’t have to switch up the schedule or their treatment, things didn’t look good. Things started to look even worse when they noticed how restless the Remnant was becoming on the table. She was moving around, shifting her weight. The young scientist held his breath. No one had strapped the asset in, if she got up… They really needed this to get over with. Another pearl of sweat rushed down his neck. Mr. Djenge’s voice cut through the quiet lab, ending all whispered conversations between the scientists and doctors. “New mission objective”, he announced loudly. Obviously, the Remnant wasn’t listening. They all noticed how her eyes whirred around the room and how her fingers had started to shake. “Soldier”, he bellowed. When nothing happened, he dared to step forward and grab the asset’s chin. The scientists froze. A throaty growl vibrated through the air, a warning that could turn into an attack every moment now. They all saw how the asset’s teeth were bared again, how her body language switched to belligerent in a matter of seconds. Someone had the mind to prevent another bloodbath and pull this incredibly stupid handler back. He grabbed one of the spray bottles that were always prepared for this asset and used it. Cold water was sprayed right into the asset’s face. There was an almost inaudible whimper and she sat back up, gaze clear and focused, betraying her skin that was rising in little goosebumps.

“Bring the tranquilizers, quick!”, one of the scientists shouted in the background. All guns were set on the asset in the center of the room now. Stick to the protocol, dammit! Was that so hard? “Soldier”, Djenge repeated. He ripped his arm out of the scientist’s hold, stepping forward. “You got a new mission target. Find the Winter Soldier, trace him.” When it stayed quiet and the asset’s fingers curled around the table, he continued. “Captain America took him prisoner. The Winter Soldier is held captive by criminals. He deserves his freedom. Bring him back and he can finish his good work.” Apparently, he’d read the reports issued for him and his supervisor, the part on how to talk to the asset. At least he put in a little effort. The Remnant listened, now, the confusion swimming in the blue eyes slowly being replaced by worry. A worry that was precious, because it worked like a motor, giving drive when everything was taken from this person. The man read lines from the book now, obviously carrying out his orders, trying to get this done and over with. “The world is brittle…” She struggled, clenching her jaw. Her eyes were pressed close. As always, she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t resist. But boy, this asset tried. “The world is brittle / seamed with cracks…”, he repeated, with more emphasis. Everything Hydra had planted into the young creature screamed far too loud to be hidden much longer and she broke. Too weak in the shadow of her full power. “The world is brittle”, she repeated with a husky voice. “seamed with cracks / ready to shatter.” “German”, he demanded. “Die Welt ist brüchig / gesäumt mit Rissen / bereit zu zerbrechen.” “Russian.” “Мир хрупок / весь в трещинах / готов разбиться.” “Wipe the asset, prep it and get it going.” The man checked his wristwatch with a frown, then turned towards the supervising scientist. “How long do you need?” “We can get the asset out in three hours, Sir.” “Good. Make sure to keep the leash tight. Can’t afford any slips. We need the Winter Soldier. Prepare her and send her in, three more missions have come up.”

At this point, there was nothing more to fear from the asset. She was completely compliant now, knowing the futility of struggle. The effect of her presence was gone like the light of a faded candle. A strong hand, it was Rollins’, gripped one of her arms while someone else guided a needle into her veins. Then, they pressed the asset into a seat right into the neighboring room, where a familiar machine waited. The machine secured the Remnant’s arms, strapping them in tight. A mouthpiece passed the muzzle on the Asset’s face and finally, everyone could do their work. The young scientist smiled. Hydra was good at what they did and today, he’d contributed to the big picture. And, no injuries on his part. They’d done a quite excellent job today.

Masterlist

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