#commander hydra

He nodded.

“We need that scepter,” Pierce told him for the tenth fucking time. “We need the Mind Stone.”

And he understood that. He didn’t need the constant reminders. He wasn’t the fucking Asset after all.

“When will you continue?” Pierce pressed.

“In two days.” He didn’t feel the need to offer more of an explanation. “I’ll keep you updated.”

Pierce didn’t like his brevity. He knew that. His superior in Hydra also had little patience with his methods.

In the days since the Battle of New York, the world was on edge after witnessing its first alien attack. The Avengers along with the whole of New York City was left weak and reeling. And he began his work for the Secret Empire. He relished his new role in the hidden Hydra network that most of America was blissfully unaware of.

Soon, people would be aware of him. His actions, his new authority.

They would fear him.

And it was their fear, their dread and awe, that he wanted.

“Is there anything else?” he asked Pierce, anxious for a shower.

Anxious for something. While he did have a solid lead on the Mind Stone, the lack of it left him feeling restless inside. He’d been on a wild goose chase for the damn stone for days now.

Frustration was poison running through his veins and it set his nerves on edge. It kept him from sleeping, prevented him from escaping into simple distractions that were readily available in this modern day.

The older man smirked. “Rumlow and his men caught a group of SHIELD operatives near one of our holdings. I’d like to tell you that they were there because they were sharp, brilliant.” He chuckled. “But they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Meaning?”

“You should go see if you have a use for any of them before they’re terminated,” Pierce said with a wink. “Half of them are healthy young women. They’ll keep one or two for the Asset. Outside of that, take what you want.”

That had him smiling. Perfect.

“Thank you,” he said. He refused to address Pierce as sir even though he knew it was expected. Even though he knew it irritated the man.

But what was Pierce going to do about it?

“Go get a shower,” Pierce finally said. “You’ve got blood in your hair.”

He did.

“Talk to you tomorrow, Steve,” Pierce muttered before ending the video call.

Blowing out an exhale, Steve Rogers rose from the chair in Rumlow’s office and stretched. He could just make out the rusty splatter of blood on the flat black of his uniform sleeves. In no particularly hurry, he headed for the locker rooms to get that shower.

After that, Steve would go check out the hostage situation.

Take what you want.

A piece of ass sounded good after the shitty day he’d had.