Chapter 13
The soft blue glow of the television was the only living light in the room.
Animated figures danced across the screen, their voices calm and friendly as they explained how to build a computer. “Processor,” said a cheerful character. “Motherboard.” “RAM.” The terms floated by gently, as if the logic of the world could somehow be kind.
Rebecca watched in silence, lying on the bed with her eyes fixed on the screen, her feet tucked under a thin blanket. Her face looked calm—or at least still. The kind of peace that came only with distraction. Or total exhaustion.
Dr. Elise stood a few steps away, arms crossed over her chest, watching the girl from a distance. She knew moments like this were rare. And fleeting.
She walked slowly across the room to where the Soldier stood, leaning against the wall, half-hidden in the shadows. His eyes were on the television too, but he wasn’t really watching the screen. He was watching her.
“Pierce approved the setup,” Elise said quietly, eyes still on the screen. “I told him it was for educational purposes. Cognitive learning, controlled stimuli—all the buzzwords they like to hear.”
The Soldier didn’t move. His gaze remained on Rebecca.
“I’m trying to push the boundaries, little by little,” Elise added. “If she watches enough, she’ll start asking questions. Thinking differently. Making new connections.”
Still nothing from him. Just a faint clench of his jaw.
“Today it’s computers. Tomorrow... it could be choices.”
She paused, waiting for any kind of reaction. It didn’t come.
Only the shifting light from the screen glinting off the metal of his arm.
“I heard a rumor this morning,” she said, her tone heavier now. “They’re planning to test her on a mission. Alone.”
The Soldier remained silent.
But his fist slowly clenched.
No sound. No drama.
Only the cheerful voices of cartoon characters explaining the “flow of data.”
“She’s not ready,” Elise murmured.
More silence.
The light from the television cast shadows that danced across the floor, as if the world itself were eavesdropping.
“They don’t want her to be ready,” she added bitterly. “They want her to break—so they can rebuild her however they please.”
That’s when the Soldier finally looked away from Rebecca. Slowly, he turned to Elise. He didn’t speak. But his eyes said enough.
She nodded, as if he’d given an answer.
And he had.
Not in words.
But in the quiet alliance beginning to take shape between them.
--
Two months had passed since that hushed conversation beneath the soft glow of the television. Long enough for the routine to feel harmless again—to those not paying attention.
That day, after Dr. Elise had put on a children’s documentary about coding, the bluish light of the screen filled the room with a gentle calm. Rebecca watched intently, her eyes fixed on the colorful animations teaching binary logic through cheerful little robot characters.
Unlike usual, the Soldier didn’t linger in the shadows at the back of the room. He stepped forward and stopped beside the chair where Elise was sitting. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t have to. There was something in the tension of his stance, in the weight of his silence. She understood instantly.
With one last glance at Rebecca, Elise rose and walked a few steps away, distancing herself from the girl and the TV. The Soldier followed, both of them stopping in a quiet corner of the room, far enough not to disturb the child’s focus.
“Two nights from now,” he said in a low, razor-sharp voice. “Base transfer.”
Elise stiffened.
“To where?”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re not going with them.”
She stared at him, speechless. The weight of what he was saying took a few seconds to settle.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’ll pull the guards off the route. Create a distraction. You and her... you’ll have a twenty-minute window.”
Elise’s heart started to pound. Her mind raced to keep up—logistics, schedules, risks, consequences.
She swallowed hard. This wasn’t just a dangerous idea whispered in the dark anymore. It was real. And it was about to happen.
“They’ll come after us,” she whispered. “If they find out…”
“They will,” he said, steady. “But they can’t chase what they can’t track.”
She hesitated before asking, her voice barely audible:
“And you?”
A brief silence. The hesitation of a man who rarely lets himself feel.
“I belong to them. For now. But I can use that to our advantage.”
“You don’t have to go back.”
“I do. Someone has to cover our tracks.”
Elise watched him—his face set with resolve. With quiet pain. And for the first time, she saw beyond the weapon. She saw a man. A father.
“Rebecca’s going to ask why you didn’t come with her.”
His eyes drifted to the girl, who was quietly giggling at a robot tripping over a colorful cable on the screen.
“Tell her I stayed behind to clear the way.”
Elise felt her throat tighten. She wanted to say more. Wanted to stop him. But she knew it would be useless.
Two nights from now, Hydra would relocate their base.
And they would have their only shot at freedom.
--
The hallways were quieter than ever that night.
Rebecca walked alongside Dr. Elise, obedient as always. The woman carried a small bag slung over her shoulder; the girl had a light backpack with a few of her favorite books inside.
Ahead of them, the Winter Soldier led the way toward the transfer point. Not a word was spoken. Only the steady rhythm of boots against the floor—like a disguised countdown.
Rebecca didn’t really know where they were going. She had only been told that the underground base was being decommissioned and that they were being relocated to another facility, “even more advanced.” She accepted the information in silence—as always.
But something felt wrong.
The Soldier had taken her to Dr. Elise’s office instead of the control center. Dr. Elise kept a firm, almost protective grip on the girl’s shoulder, like she was afraid that if she let go, Rebecca would vanish out of time.
In the cargo hangar, there was only one vehicle waiting. The back door stood open.
“Get in,” the Soldier ordered, his voice low. “Back seat. Stay quiet and wait.”
Rebecca frowned slightly, but obeyed. Elise hesitated, as if standing at the edge of some invisible cliff, and exchanged a quick glance with the Soldier.
Then a voice sliced through the silence.
“I expected more from you.”
Rebecca turned sharply. Elise froze. The Soldier straightened, instinctively shielding them.
Alexander Pierce emerged from the shadows. Impeccable. Unshaken. The dark suit only sharpened the chill of his presence. At his side, like a living shadow, stood Karpov—his eyes locked on the Soldier, as if he’d been waiting for this moment for weeks.
“Dr. Wagner. Soldier. 616— or should I say, Rebecca,” he said. “It’s impressive, really, how you all actually believed you could pull this off. That if you whispered in corners, avoided certain words… Hydra wouldn’t notice.”
Elise’s grip tightened on Rebecca’s arm. The girl, now standing beside her, felt her heart race without knowing why.
“The doctor’s office, of course, was monitored,” Pierce went on, feigning disappointment. “A project like 616? Did you really think we’d leave it unwatched? The cameras may have been disabled… but the microphones? Ah, those never sleep.”
He stepped forward.
“I heard everything. Every word. Every plan. Every hesitation. And frankly, I’m disappointed.”
Silence fell like a funeral shroud.
“You betrayed us,” Karpov said, stepping beside Pierce and locking eyes with the Soldier.
The Soldier didn’t answer. He simply stepped forward, placing himself between Elise and Rebecca.
“And you, Doctor…” Pierce said, now turning his gaze on her, “...did we make a mistake taking you?”
He paused, then pointed at Rebecca.
“You two used this child as a crutch for your own redemption. But she... she belongs to us. From her very first heartbeat. Even before she cried for the first time.”
Rebecca felt a chill run through her.
Karpov stepped forward, merciless. He opened his red notebook with the precision of an executioner.
Two guards appeared from the flanks. Elise tried to resist, but was quickly overpowered. One grabbed her arms, the other slammed her to the ground, pinning her with force.
Rebecca took a frightened step back.
“What are you doing?!” Elise shouted. “No! Please, stop! She’s just a child!”
But Karpov ignored her.
He took a deep breath.
And began.
“Желание.”
The first tremor was instant.
The Soldier’s jaw clenched. His eyes hardened. Rebecca flinched.
“Ржавый.”
His shoulder twitched. The metal arm clicked, like it was waking up on its own.
Elise felt her stomach turn.
“Семнадцать.”
The Soldier’s eyes shifted.
The humanity there—fragile, but real—started to vanish, replaced by something cold and empty.
“No!” Elise screamed.
“Рассвет.”
Rebecca felt dizzy. Everything blurred, like a slow nightmare. Her chest tightened. Her vision swam.
She wanted to run. But her body wouldn’t move.
“Печь.”
The Soldier stood tall. Rigid.
As if each word rewired his nerves.
The metal arm flexed with deadly precision.
He wasn’t him anymore.
“Девять.”
Rebecca stumbled backward. His eyes passed over her—without recognition.
“Безобидный.”
There was nothing benign left. His face was stone. Still. Cold.
Rebecca tried to speak. She wanted to say something. Anything to bring him back.
“Возвращение домой.”
Elise was crying now.
Not for herself. Not for him.
For Rebecca.
The girl who didn’t yet understand what she was about to lose.
“Один.”
“Товарный вагон.”
Silence.
The process was complete.
The Soldier turned. Slowly.
His eyes were hollow. Obedient. A machine.
Karpov stepped closer.
“Солдат?”
“Готов подчиняться.”
Rebecca froze.
Elise held her breath. She knew instantly.
“No…” she whispered.
It was too late.
The Soldier turned. His lifeless gaze met Pierce’s.
Pierce calmly adjusted his black gloves. His eyes like shards of ice.
Elise struggled in the guards’ grip. Useless.
“She’s not a weapon!” she cried. “She’s a child!”
Pierce didn’t answer. He looked at the Soldier.
“Direct order,” he said coldly. “Eliminate the traitor.”
Rebecca turned, desperate.
“NO! Please, no! NO!”
The metal arm rose.
The shot was sharp.
The doctor collapsed.
Silence.
Blood spread across the floor.
Rebecca dropped to her knees beside the body.
“Dr. Elise…?” her voice was barely a breath. “Dr. Elise… wake up… mom…”
The pain came like a blade. Not physical. Deeper. Raw.
She tried to scream.
But only sobbed.
Pierce approached. Slowly. Like someone who had done this before—and would again.
He crouched in front of the girl and slapped her across the face.
The sound cracked. Her cheek reddened instantly.
“You belong to Hydra.”.
Rebecca didn’t answer.
Her face was still. Tears streaming down.