Chapter 4
WASHINGTON, D.C.
June 30th, 1949
“So that’s why you’re acting weird,” Angie observed with a wry smile as she leaned casually against the counter.
Peggy folded her arms and frowned, her tone cool yet edged with vulnerability. “I’m not acting weird,” she replied, though her eyes betrayed by a flicker of uncertainty.
Angie’s eyes danced with mischief as she shook her head. “Yes, you do. I know you, English,” she teased, using the nickname that always brought a soft smile to Peggy’s lips. “So… are you going to get her involved?” Angie pressed, her tone probing.
Peggy hesitated for a heartbeat before replying, “Maybe she knows about Barnes. Or at least she can lead us to a more concrete situation.”
Angie’s eyebrow arched in skepticism. “She escaped the other time. Why would it be different now?” Angie asked, half-chiding, half-concerned, the memory slipping through her mind.
“I just think she can be useful in this, Angie,” Peggy insisted, her voice lowering as she leaned in. “Trust me on this, alright?”
“You call, Carter,” Angie replied briskly.
Later that afternoon, in a quiet, dimly lit office within the house, Peggy’s work was interrupted by a knock at the front door. Taking a deep breath, Peggy stepped aside to greet her unexpected visitor.
“Peggy Carter,” a familiar voice greeted her as the door swung open. Standing there, framed by the soft light of the hallway, was a woman Peggy knew well. “Underwood,” Peggy greeted back, both a name and a memory, some time now since their paths had last crossed.
“Long time no see,” Dottie said, stepping forward. “I’m assuming you want my help?” she asked.
“That… would be correct,” Peggy replied, her voice measured as she led Dottie into the kitchen, Dottie pouring herself a glass of water as she got there. “And what is it all about?” Dottie inquired, handing the glass over with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that—I haven’t poisoned it.”
Peggy allowed herself a small, wry chuckle as she took a sip. “Okay,” she said softly, settling into a chair. “What do you know about the Winter Soldier?” The question wasn’t merely academic; it was charged with urgency, needing to piece together a puzzle that led to Bucky’s location.
Dottie leaned back, her eyes narrowing as if sifting through a mental archive of classified information. “The Winter Soldier Program is a top secret HYDRA project started by Arnim Zola,” she began, her tone matter-of-fact yet tinged with bitterness. “Both HYDRA and the Soviets wanted their own supersoldier—and now they have it.” She paused, letting the weight of those words settle.
Peggy leaned forward, eager for more. “I need you to tell me more,” she urged, her voice low and intense.
“Be more specific, darling,” Dottie replied with a raised eyebrow, her voice softening for just a moment as she searched Peggy’s eyes for the truth.
“Fine, where is the Winter Soldier located?” Peggy asked.
Dottie shrugged honestly at the question. “Probably Siberia,” she answered, though her eyes betrayed her own uncertainty. “But I honestly don’t know where he is right now.” There was a resignation in her tone—something that Peggy picked up.
“Okay,” Peggy said, nodding slowly as she absorbed the information. “Thanks, Dottie.”
Before the conversation could drift to a natural conclusion, Dottie interjected with a measured firmness. “Not so fast, darling. I want to collaborate.” she said.
Peggy’s eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of caution flaring. “And why should I let you, Dottie? Last time you collaborated, you killed a cop and escaped.”, the memory was a bitter pill.
“Because this time is personal,” Dottie declared, her voice rising with conviction. “And I’m a changed woman, Carter.” There was an intensity in her eyes—a promise of redemption, or perhaps a plea for one more chance. Peggy studied her face, the flicker of sincerity mixed with the scars of her past transgressions.
“Hopefully I’m not going to regret this,” Peggy thought silently, wrestling with the old and the new. After a long moment, she finally said, “Alright then, I’ll keep you posted.” Her voice was a careful compromise between trust and caution—a fragile bridge extended toward a previous adversary.
“You know where to find me,” Dottie replied, her tone softening as she stepped back toward the main door. Peggy watched her leave, the newfound situation settling in within her.
The day unfolded into a busy evening, and soon Peggy found herself once again surrounded by her closest confidantes. In the warm glow of the living room, the group gathered.
“So…” Angie began hesitantly, her eyes scanning Peggy’s features.
“Yes, she’s in,” Peggy responded, her tone both matter-of-fact and tinged with a hint of reluctancy.
“Who’s she?” Steve asked, his curiosity piqued, his eyes meeting Peggy’s.
“Dottie Underwood,” Peggy stated, her voice measured. “She’s…” She hesitated momentarily, as if weighing the history behind the name.
Before she could finish, Steve interjected, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “The first Black Widow,” he declared, his voice resonating with knowledge. “Nat told me about her.”
“She is a Black Widow as well, right?” Angie pressed, her voice light yet inquisitive. “Yes, she is,” Steve confirmed firmly, the camaraderie between them was palpable—a mutual respect for the battles fought.
“Well, hopefully Underwood is able to take the same route Natasha took,” Angie commented, her words a blend of cautious optimism. “Fingers crossed,” Peggy added, her tone both humorous and laced with an underlying tension.
“Did you talk to her then?” Steve asked, his gaze shifting back to Peggy.
“Yes, I thought she could have information about Barnes,” Peggy replied, her eyes meeting Steve’s. “She said that maybe Siberia…”, her voice trailing off.
“That’s what I thought as well,” Steve murmured thoughtfully. “That’s where Bucky was located in the final decades as the Winter Soldier. I just didn’t think he was there the whole time.”
“We just have to wait and see about that,” Peggy said, her tone soft but resolute. “But first, let’s rescue the other Steve.” There was a spark of determination in her eyes—a glimmer of hope that despite this tangled mess they were in, there remained a path forward, however uncertain it might be.
“Yes,” Steve confirmed without hesitation, his voice firm and resolute. “Let’s do that.”