Chapter 6
Alexander Pierce walked through the corridors of the Hydra underground base with steady, calculated steps. His expression was cold, but anyone who knew him well would notice the tension in his clenched jaw. The incident with 616 in the classroom had reached his ears faster than he would’ve liked. The cameras had recorded everything—the insubordination, the violence against the guards, and, most importantly, the interference of the Winter Soldier. This was unacceptable.
As he pushed through the doors to the meeting room, a heavy silence fell. The instructors were already positioned around the long metallic table, waiting for him like prey before a predator. Dr. Kraus was reviewing reports, his sharp gaze sweeping over the pages with meticulous attention. The teacher in charge of 616’s formal education remained rigid in his chair, his fingers interlaced in a failed attempt to hide his nervousness. Two trainers exchanged discreet glances, seemingly trying to assess who would be the first to face Pierce’s discontent.
He didn’t sit. He simply let his gaze slide over each of them before finally speaking, his voice low and controlled but laced with ice.
“Can someone explain to me how a five-year-old child managed to make one of our instructors lose control to the point where we needed the Winter Soldier’s intervention?”
The teacher swallowed nervously before clearing his throat, adjusting his glasses with slightly trembling fingers.
“Sir… 616 refused to follow instructions. Instead of writing, she began drawing. When reprimanded, she challenged the instructor’s authority and, later, resisted the guards’ containment.”
Pierce slowly crossed his arms, the leather of his coat creaking slightly with the movement.
“Resisted?”
“She fought, sir. Like she was on a battlefield. Aggressive, precise, without hesitation.”
The trainers nodded in agreement. Dr. Kraus, who had been silently observing until now, closed the report and raised his eyes to Pierce. His expression was calculated, but his voice carried a noticeable weight.
“The issue isn’t just her resistance” he said, his tone neutral but sharp. “The Asset is exerting influence over her. He was supposed to train her, not interfere with her discipline.”
Pierce narrowed his eyes.
“Explain.”
Kraus slid the computer screen so Pierce could see. The footage showed the scene captured by the cameras: the Winter Soldier standing still while the guards attempted to subdue 616. When she was finally subdued, lying on the ground, he approached, inspected her injuries, and, instead of cataloging them as usual, he acted.
“He picked her up” Kraus continued, observing Pierce’s reaction. “Like a father would calm a scared child. He didn’t say anything, didn’t express emotions, but the gesture itself was... unusual.”
Pierce watched the video in silence. The Winter Soldier, a killer with no past, programmed not to feel, holding the girl like that? He exhaled slowly through his nose.
“And her reaction?”
“She accepted it without hesitation” one of the trainers responded. “Like she expected it from him.”
Pierce leaned back slightly, absorbing the information with an analytical gaze. This could be a problem. Or, if directed correctly, a valuable opportunity.
“This changes things” he murmured, his eyes slowly scanning the faces of the men before him. His voice was low but weighted. “616 is starting to form connections. And connections... they’re double-edged swords.”
He paused, turning his attention to the screen next to the table. The frozen image from the security footage showed the Winter Soldier standing beside the girl, his muscles rigid, his gaze fixed on the guards who had tried to contain her. But it was a subtle detail that really caught his attention.
The Winter Soldier’s hands were clenched into fists.
Pierce’s jaw tightened.
The Winter Soldier shouldn’t have reacted like that. He shouldn’t have reacted at all.
He leaned back in his chair, letting the silence hang for a moment before continuing:
“You’re telling me that the Winter Soldier we’ve molded, conditioned, and controlled, acted on his own to comfort 616?”
Dr. Kraus held his gaze firmly, without hesitation.
“Yes, sir. And this cannot be ignored.”
Pierce let out a small sigh, rubbing his chin, pondering. Then, a calculated smile curled his lips.
“Bring in a child psychologist” he ordered, his voice returning to its signature coldness. “Someone who can analyze the girl’s mind and find a way to channel her energy into something productive.”
--
The rain came down hard that night, the drops drumming on the asphalt as Elise Wagner hurried toward her small apartment. The biting wind made her thin coat feel useless, and her thoughts were still tangled in the exhausting day at the clinic. Working with orphaned children was her calling, the reason she’d chosen psychology. She understood what it was like to grow up without a home, without anyone to call family. And now, perhaps, she could help them find something she herself had never had.
A gust of wind rattled the branches of the trees lining the sidewalk, and a chill ran down her spine. Not from the cold, but from an unsettling feeling, as though she were being watched. Elise tightened her grip on her purse and quickened her pace. At first, the sound of footsteps behind her seemed casual, blending with the rain’s steady rhythm. But then, something shifted. They began to sync with hers.
Her heart raced. She glanced back quickly, but the dimly lit street concealed any sign of a presence. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her mind. Maybe it was just paranoia. But her instincts screamed otherwise.
She turned the corner swiftly, hoping it was just a stranger on the same path. But in the next instant, a strong arm wrapped around her waist. Elise opened her mouth to scream, but a gloved hand pressed a cloth against her face. The chemical smell hit her nostrils, searing through her senses. Her body reacted on pure survival instinct, struggling with all her strength. But the numbness came fast. Her legs felt heavy, her eyes blinking in a last-ditch effort to focus.
The last thing she saw before the darkness consumed her was a pair of cold, unfeeling eyes.
The cold concrete beneath her body was the first sensation she felt as she came to. The harsh glare of fluorescent lights flickered against the metallic ceiling of the cell where she was held. For a moment, everything seemed blurry — her irregular breathing, the involuntary tremor in her hands. She tried to stand, but the metallic clink of the handcuffs stopped her.
Her heart pounded in her ribs as the cell door opened with a sharp, metallic click. A man entered, wearing a crisp white lab coat. His dark hair was perfectly groomed, thin glasses resting on his nose, and every movement seemed calculated, clinical.
He stopped in front of her, staring down at her with an evaluating look, as if examining something under a microscope.
“Dr. Elise Wagner” he said, his voice thick with a German accent, cold and precise. “I am Dr. Kraus.”
Elise took a deep breath, forcing herself to maintain control. Panic wouldn’t help her now.
"Where am I?" Her voice came out firmer than she expected, though her throat was dry.
Dr. Kraus tilted his head slightly, as if studying her with interest.
"In a place where your knowledge will be... well-utilized."
That response made her stomach churn. She didn’t need any more explanations to understand that she wasn’t here by choice.
--
The room where 616 was brought was silent and relentlessly simple, unlike any other environment within the Hydra base. There were no screens displaying tactical graphs or weapons ready for combat. The only furniture was a table, two plain chairs, and a yellowed lamp casting soft shadows on the bare white walls, creating a cold and distant atmosphere. Seated at the table, waiting patiently, was Dr. Elise Wagner.
The door creaked open, and 616 entered, escorted by a guard. The man released her arm and stepped back without a word, observing the girl, who, with suspicious eyes, scanned the room with the same coldness as a soldier on the field. When her eyes finally landed on the woman in front of her, Elise held her posture unchanged, no rush, no sudden movements, offering only a slight smile—a subtle attempt to disarm the charged atmosphere.
"Hello, 616. My name is Dr. Elise Wagner. You can sit down."
Hesitation. The girl looked at the chair, and for a moment, Elise could see the inner struggle within her. No words, but her eyes spoke volumes. She didn’t want to do anything, didn’t want to obey. But, finally, she sat, her body as stiff as a board, hands clenched over her knees as though ready to react to any movement.
Elise picked up a notebook and a pen from the table, but instead of writing, she gently pushed the objects toward the girl.
"You like to draw, don’t you?" Her voice was soft, as though it were an invitation.
616 narrowed her eyes, suspicious. Was it a test? A trap? She stared at the pen but made no move. The silence between them stretched, like a palpable tension.
"I should write," 616’s voice was dry, devoid of emotion. "Not draw."
Elise tilted her head slightly, as if considering her words.
"Who said that?"
"The teacher. The instructors. Everyone."
The psychologist nodded slowly, processing the information. Then, without haste, she spoke calmly:
"But I’m not your instructor. And I’m asking what you want to do."
616 remained silent, her eyes drifting to the notebook, her fingers still motionless on the pen. Time seemed to hang in the balance, as if she were weighing the decision. Finally, with almost mechanical movement, she grabbed the pen, but instead of using it to draw, she squeezed it tightly, as though expecting it to be ripped from her hands.
"I’ll do whatever they tell me," she said in a tone of resignation that felt automatic, like an ingrained command, but with a subtle exhaustion beneath the surface.
Elise furrowed her brow slightly and leaned forward, observing her closely. Her voice remained soft, but with a touch of curiosity:
"If you’re willing to obey, why didn’t you do what the teacher told you?"
616 averted her gaze, her fingers tightening around the pen. There was something behind that expression of impassiveness. Something that the psychologist couldn’t quite name, but it was there, visible in the tense lines of her body. The girl took a deep breath, as if speaking more to herself than to Elise.
"Because I’m tired," she said in a lower voice, as if the word carried more weight than the sound. "Tired of doing what I’m told. Tired of never doing what I want."
Elise felt a pang of empathy but didn’t let it show. She nodded slowly, reflecting on those words, and then leaned in a little closer, her voice soft like a suggestion.
"And what do you want?"
616 remained silent for a while, her eyes fixed on the table. Elise could see the internal conflict forming. It wasn’t just anger or frustration, but something deeper. Something she didn’t fully understand yet. When the girl finally looked at her, her eyes were filled with a need almost impossible to express.
"I want a name."
That simple declaration made Elise’s heart tighten. A name. Something so basic and human as the right to be recognized, something that had been denied to her since the beginning of her existence. An identity. The psychologist held her gaze, the weight of the sentence echoing in her chest.
"And you think you’ll achieve that by doing everything they tell you?" Elise’s voice was calm, but there was a quiet sadness behind her question.
This time, 616 didn’t answer. She simply stared at the notebook, her fingers gripping the pen with the same force, as if it was the only thing she could still control.
Elise took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. She crossed her hands on the table, keeping her voice soft, almost too calm.
"Take the paper. I want you to write down what you like to do in your daily life."
616 watched her, confused.
"What does 'like' mean?"
The question caught Elise off guard. She knew 616 hadn’t had a normal life, that Hydra had controlled every aspect of her existence, but hearing such a simple, pure doubt cut her like a blade. She knew what 'like' meant, but for the girl in front of her, it was a concept far out of reach.
Elise took another deep breath, trying to hide the tension in her shoulders, and responded with a softer voice.
"To like something means to feel something good when you do it. When something makes you feel good, comfortable, or interested. Some kids like to draw because it makes them happy and relaxed. Others like to run because they feel free."
616 fell silent, processing the words. Her eyes focused on the paper, but she still seemed distant, as if trying to understand the concept of a normal life.
"Write anything that makes you feel good," Elise encouraged, offering the pen to the girl.
616 stared at the pen for a moment, and then, with almost mechanical movement, she began to write. Her strokes were quick and precise, as if she were just completing a task, but there was something in her handwriting that spoke more than she wanted to admit.
When she finished, she pushed the paper toward Elise, who read it in silence:
"Training with the Winter Soldier. Learning a new language. Eating. Sleeping."
Elise looked at the list. There was no fun. No innocence. Just obligations and basic needs. She felt a silent sadness settle in her chest. No play. No pleasure. Just survival.
She raised her eyes to 616 and forced a small smile.
"Good choices. Now, I want to understand why you like these things. Can we talk about it?"
616 simply nodded, waiting for the next command.
Elise analyzed each word written on the paper, reflecting on what she could extract from it. Then, with a gentle tone, she asked:
"Why do you like training with the Winter Soldier?"
616 hesitated for a moment before responding:
"He’s strong. He teaches me how to fight for real."
"And does that make you feel good?" Elise tilted her head slightly, watching the girl’s expression.
616 furrowed her brow, thinking.
"It makes me feel… useful."
The answer made Elise hold back a sigh. "Useful," not happy. "Useful," not fulfilled. For 616, self-worth was only measured by the function she served.
"Learning a new language," Elise continued, not pushing. "What makes you like that?"
"It’s a challenge. My brain learns quickly. And if I can speak more languages, I can understand more orders."
Elise ran her fingers over the table, feeling the cold metal surface under her skin.
"You learn to follow orders better?"
616 nodded.
"But what if you learned just because you want to? Just because you like it?"
The girl didn’t respond right away.
"I… don’t know," she finally said.
Elise paused before moving on.
"And about eating? What do you like about eating?"
616 shrugged.
"I’m hungry. Eating fixes that."
"But do you have a favorite food? Something you like more than the rest?"
The girl blinked, thinking.
"The porridge they give me in the morning tastes different from the other food."
Elise smiled.
"Different how?"
"I don’t know… it’s warm. Soft."
She didn’t say it was good, only that it was different. As if she’d never thought of food as something to be enjoyed, just as a necessity.
Elise then returned to the last item.
"Sleeping. Do you like it because you feel rested afterward?"
"No…" 616 replied, shaking her head slightly.
Elise frowned.
"Then why do you like to sleep?"
The girl hesitated for a moment, as if she’d never thought about it before. Then, she murmured:
"Because it’s the only time I don’t have to do anything."
Elise felt a tightness in her chest. The way 616 saw the world was frighteningly mechanical. Train, follow orders, learn. Never stop. Never exist beyond the function they gave her.
"Do you dream?" she asked softly.
616 was silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on the paper in front of her. Then, with a vague expression, she answered:
"What’s dreaming?"
Elise was surprised by the question, but she tried to explain calmly, choosing her words carefully.
"Dreaming is… like seeing with your eyes closed. Images or stories, as if you’re awake, but with your eyes closed. You see things, feel things, even though you’re not really awake."
616 remained silent, as if processing the explanation. Finally, she responded with a thoughtful expression.
"I’ve seen... the pictures of the forests in my geography book move, like I’m running through the trees."
Elise looked at her, surprised. The description was so vivid, so unexpected, that she was speechless for a moment. 616 hadn’t said she was dreaming, but that sounded like a sensory experience very close to it.
"That’s a type of dream," Elise finally said, her voice soft. "Sometimes, what we see when we’re awake can also be part of what we dream, but it’s only when our eyes are closed that the dream really happens."
616 thought for a moment, as if trying to fully understand the difference. She looked at the psychologist, her eyes still a bit confused, but something had shifted within her—perhaps a new curiosity.
"So, I dreamed?" she asked, almost as if she were trying to validate her own experience.
Elise smiled gently.
"Yes, 616. You dreamed. And that’s something very human."
616 looked at the paper again, as if searching for more answers there, but the door opened abruptly before she could write anything. The guard who had entered before was now at the door, his expression unreadable.
"616, stand up," he said, his voice sharp. "Your physical training with the Winter Soldier starts now."
Without hesitation, 616 stood and moved toward the guard. Elise watched as the girl left the room, still wearing that distant look.
The door opened again before Elise could say anything further. Another guard entered the room, his cold gaze falling on her.
"You’re coming with me," he said bluntly. "Dr. Kraus wants to speak with you."
Elise felt a weight in her chest but followed the guard without protest.
As they walked through the metallic hallways of the Hydra base, her heart raced. She already knew this meeting wouldn’t be pleasant. When she finally arrived at Dr. Kraus’ office, she found not only him but also Alexander Pierce sitting behind the desk, watching her with his calculating gaze.
Elise felt a slight shock run through her body at the sight of Alexander Pierce there, seated with the authority of someone who had always been in control. She recognized that face—an influential man in politics, someone who should be fighting organizations like Hydra, not sitting inside one of its facilities.
She quickly masked her surprise, but her mind spun with questions and concerns. If Pierce was here, so comfortable, so clearly in charge, how deep did the corruption run? If someone like him was part of this, who else was involved? Elise swallowed hard, feeling a wave of distrust spreading inside her.
'You can't trust anyone.'
That truth stuck in her mind like a clean shot. There was no point in thinking about asking for help from someone on the outside. If Pierce was with Hydra, it meant the organization was more deeply infiltrated than she’d imagined. And worse, if he had enough power to be here without fear, it meant everyone here was under his control.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened up, trying not to show what she was feeling. Pierce noticed her brief hesitation and smirked slightly, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
"So, Dr. Wagner," he said, his voice dripping with false politeness, "tell us, what did 616 say?"
Elise took a deep breath before answering.
"Not much. I believe that, thanks to what Hydra did to her, 616 is unable to express her emotions properly."
Kraus let out a low, mocking laugh.
"Emotions?" he repeated, as if it were a joke. "616 doesn't have emotions. She's an experiment. A weapon."
Elise felt her stomach churn but kept her expression neutral. Confronting them directly wouldn’t help. Pierce, however, didn’t laugh. Instead, he grabbed a folder from the desk and slid it toward Elise.
"Read this," he ordered. "What are the chances of 616 passing the treatment?"
She picked up the folder with some hesitation, opened it, and began flipping through the documents. Her gaze fixed on a detailed report about the Winter Soldier and the trigger words implementation process. Every term, every method used to condition him—it was all there, cold and meticulous. Elise felt a chill crawl up her spine.
"This... this is horrible," she murmured, unable to hold it back. "This would harm 616 in irreparable ways."
Pierce leaned forward slightly.
"So, Dr. Wagner, what would the solution be?"
She closed the folder and took a deep breath.
"Not much. I believe that, thanks to what Hydra did to her, 616 is unable to express her emotions properly. She’s been conditioned to suppress everything human inside her."
Pierce kept his posture, but his eyes hardened slightly.
"Explain."
Elise, trying not to show her discomfort, continued.
"Children need connection. They need to be able to trust, to form bonds, to understand affection—and most importantly, to express themselves. From what I’ve read in the reports about 616, it seems she, unconsciously, formed a connection with the Asset. This, although uncontrolled, is evidence that she still has a basic human need, even if Hydra tried to crush it. This kind of connection, if nurtured, could be the key to helping her find herself again and rehabilitate from everything that’s been imposed on her."
Pierce watched her with an impassive expression, waiting for Elise's response. She felt the weight of the situation, as if every word she said was being carefully analyzed and could be used against her. She took a deep breath, trying to control the anxiety that threatened to take over.
"Dr. Wagner, please explain how we can use this to our advantage. How do we turn this connection into something that serves our goals?"
She didn’t want to be there. She didn’t want to be forced to explain herself to men who saw people as tools. But she knew she had no choice.
"What... what the report indicates, is that the connection between 616 and the Winter Soldier..." She hesitated, feeling the weight of her words, and tried to continue with a firm voice, though fear was palpable. "It can’t be rushed, it can’t be used like this, just like that. The Asset’s reset... it... it should be delayed. The connection between them can’t be forced. It needs to be... a process, something more gradual. It can’t be one-sided."
Pierce watched her silently, his expression impenetrable. She felt his eyes piercing through her, challenging her to continue. She hesitated a little longer, feeling her heart race.
"The Soldier... he’s not a machine. He has... emotions, or something like that. If we try to use 616 to control him, it might not work the way you expect. Instead, we could end up creating a vulnerability, something that could turn against us." She stopped, trying to digest her own words. If what she was saying was misinterpreted, she didn’t know what could happen to her. "I’m not saying we can’t use this to our advantage, I’m just saying... we need to be careful. We can’t rush things."
She saw that Pierce was starting to lose patience. He tilted his head slightly, watching her with a cold stare. She swallowed hard and tried to continue, her words coming out with more hesitation than she would have liked.
"If... if we just observed this connection, let it develop naturally... then maybe, we could start using it to our advantage. But without forcing anything. Without... without making it happen immediately. I... I know it may seem slow, but right now, forcing this relationship could be more harmful than helpful."
Pierce remained silent for a long time, his icy eyes fixed on her. The room seemed to shrink, the pressure of his presence threatening to suffocate her. Then, finally, he turned to Kraus, his tone impersonal.
"Call Karpov. If the connection between 616 and the Soldier is a risk to us, we need someone to control them, just in case the situation gets out of hand."
Kraus immediately stood up and walked toward the door. Elise felt a chill in her stomach, knowing this was just the beginning. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but the fear was evident in her eyes.
Pierce looked back at her, as if testing the sincerity of her words.
"And what if the connection actually works like you say?" he asked, his voice emotionless, but with a hint of challenge. "What do we gain from it?"
Elise felt a lump in her throat, her eyes avoiding direct contact. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, a piece on Hydra’s chessboard, and that her words could be the difference between being useful or becoming expendable.
"I... I believe we could... manipulate both of them without forcing either of them to submit. But only if we do it the right way, with time, and... and a lot of control. We can’t just... rush it. It won’t work, not here." She paused, swallowing hard, trying to control the anxiety taking over her body. "Not if we push too hard."
Pierce watched her with a look that could pierce anyone. Finally, he gave a small smile, as if contemplating all the possibilities.
"Interesting. Let’s see what we can do with that."
Elise felt the weight of his words on her chest, the sense that nothing would ever be the same again. She had just given the answer that, if misinterpreted, could seal her fate right there.