Berlin, 2016
June 23rd, 2016
Bucharest, Romania
Whatever hit his partner sent an electric charge up his own arm, and he released her involuntarily at the sharp pain that made the circuits short. She reappeared as he did, and he dove for her, heart leaping into his throat at her convulsions.
The tiny winking device had come from the gauntlet of the newest arrival, sleek and metallic like the rest of his suit of armour. It had lodged just under her largest implant, and whatever it was doing had completely obliterated her control.
Her eyes had rolled up into her head, and her breath was coming short and tight, jaw locked. As he tried to roll her shaking body over to get rid of it, hands descended upon him, and more of the German forces appeared over her. He tried to rip himself free, and reach for her, wordless panic and rage robbing him of speech as they dragged her bodily out of his reach.
It was only after they had snapped a thick collar around her limp neck did he stop resisting. A distant cold was threatening to encroach upon him at the sight. It was too similar to the collar HYDRA had given her. He was forced down onto the ground, head turned roughly away from her. The angle required him to watch Steve being handcuffed, and another bolt of helpless fury made him sag under the knees in his back, against his throat.
He should have just run, he should never have picked Bucharest, he should have listened to her, he should have been less sentimental, he should not have frozen when he saw Steve, he should-
Regret, immeasurable and innumerable.
The man in the black-bodysuit removed his helm, and even though the sight of the Prince of Wakanda was shocking, it did nothing to ease the slow build of nauseating resignation.
Technically a king now, with his father dead.
And he and his partner were going to be punished for it.
June 23rd, 2016
Berlin, Germany
She returned to consciousness slowly, primed with sharp stabs of pain that filtered into her awareness and forced her eyes to open.
The transport she was in had the lights dimmed, but for the sterile illumination of the fluorescent directly above her. She was in a cage. It was glass and she turned-
No. No.
Her head, her arms, her legs and her torso were all held down to the metal seat, and as she squirmed with the evolutionary instinct to move, panicked at the loss of motion, she became aware of the cold and wet splashing sound her feet made on the floor. They’d taken her shoes and left her barefoot in water up to her ankles. The thick metal straps around her wrists, shins, chest and forehead were just as unforgivingly cold. She phased-
White-hot pain raced through her body with the volts of electricity that forced her to solidify. The water was conducting a live charge around the whole cell; even if she could get out of the restraints, she couldn’t escape it.
She gritted her teeth as the feeling faded, limbs twitching weakly, and squinted into the darkness beyond the cage. There were German special police lining both walls, with weapons trained upon her – and no sign of her partner.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-
She swallowed down the hysteria rising in her chest.
If they had-
She would-
No.
Stay calm. Control yourself.
First, the facts;
She was in a moving vehicle, most likely on her way to, or already in Germany. She could not move – ignore the panic it caused, focus – and could not get out. They were being blamed for bombing the UN. Someone had pretended to be her partner. Her partner was not with her.
Then, the goal;
Get out of the cage. Find her partner. Get out of the county. Track down the imposter.
She closed her eyes against the harsh light. It was exacerbating the ache in her skull, and scattering her thoughts. Below her, the truck was slowing, she could feel the engine’s vibrations easing slightly. Think. She needed to think.
Whoever had framed her partner had a reason beyond the obvious. The obvious being an easy scapegoat. Why not implicate a man who had already done things in a similar vein? But no – that was not it, it couldn’t be it.
A creak of machinery and the sudden sloshing of the water at the bottom of her cage made her open her eyes again. They were unloading her like cargo, a fork-lift-like machine attaching itself to the back of her cage and lifting it out of the vehicle. The space outside was huge; a massive open plan warehouse-garage, and though it was well lit, she could tell they were underground.
The men that had been in the vehicle with her shadowed the forklift’s slow trundle towards an industrial sized lift at the back of the room. They were muttering to themselves, and she kept catching the flash of their eyes upon her. As she was backed into the lift, she caught sight of another armoured vehicle arriving, and it parked next to her own. He was here. The lift doors slid shut slowly, but not before she had caught sight of another fork-lift approaching the vehicle. He was in a cage like her.
Was it about the cage? She closed her eyes again as the lift began to move. Was the goal to capture them? With such a public target, at a time of such heightened tension, they should have expected the whole world to take notice. If that were the case, then why, because it would have made it harder for whoever was on the video footage to get to them first. The governments of the world, especially Germany, had most likely leapt upon this case. They should have expected them to fall into the custody of-
Oh.
Oh.
Her eyes flew open, and she met the gaze of the man closest to her. He flinched, but she made no effort to dull the suspicion and anger that was no doubt written across her face. HYDRA had clung to life in the Western world through deceit and infiltration. They had brought down the world’s top organization from within. It was not a stretch to think that they had infiltrated the Security Council too.
Whoever was after them was already here.
“Has she said anything yet?”
Natasha didn’t look up from the small screen to look at Tony. She wasn’t sure she trusted her features to be blank, removed. They had her collared and caged, and it was making her angrier than she had thought. “No. And she won’t.”
Tony snorted, and she finally raised her eyes to him. He was looking at the small live-feed of Aleksandrina too, though his eyes were harder than her own, and there was no trace of humour on his face. “Well she’d better; something tells me the Germans won’t take kindly to silence.” He shook his head.
“When is her lawyer getting here?” Natasha looked around for someone to bully into the answers she wanted, and Tony’s eyebrows flew up. “What?”
“A lawyer? You’re worried about her legal rep? Christ, Natasha – she tried to kill you, and now she’s blown up the UN.” Tony tilted his head, considering. Natasha could see his clever eyes working to decipher the strangeness of her behaviour. Tony didn’t know about Aleksandrina, didn’t know about their past, their familial connection. The impulse that had driven her to tell Steve and Sam had not extended to anyone else, and the way Tony was acting about the accords made her think to do so would be dangerous. Tony was not a cruel man, but she would not put it past him to abuse the knowledge. So, she shrugged, and looked away from him again.
Aleksandrina had her eyes closed. If not for the slight rise and fall of her chest, she would have looked like a corpse; further washed out by the harsh light of the fluorescents. A small part of her revelled in the chance to examine her without comment. Now she had time to study the other woman’s face and pick out the things that made them so alike.
Tony gave up; “I’m going to go get Cap to sign.” He moved away from her without waiting for a reply. Perhaps he could sense that she would tell him it would prove to be an impossible task. Steve would not sign – for the very reasons that she had. She didn’t need to look at her friend to know he would be looking at James’ live-feed with much the same intensity as her.
The lawyer had arrived; she watched the anxious looking bald man edge into the cell-room with little interest. He was supposed to be representing both of them, but Natasha didn’t see how he could if he couldn’t even look at the face of the still assassin behind the glass. He was sweating, and it reflected with a slight gleam in the camera.
“Ghost,” he began, and nervously shuffled his papers. Natasha looked briefly at James’ feed – the psychiatrist that was due to evaluate them should be arriving soon. The dark haired man was as deathly still as his partner, but for his eyes – they were open and sharply focussed. There was no trace of the cold cloud she had seen obscuring his vision in DC. No – the Soldier and the Ghost were lucid. She wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse. “My name is-”
“Romanov. Rogers. Wilson.”
Natasha started at the sound of her name, and as the other agents monitoring the feeds began to mutter in German, she leant closer. She could feel surprised and suspicious eyes upon her. Natasha ignored them.
“W-what?” The lawyer’s voice trembled.
“Romanov. Rogers. Wilson.” Aleksandrina repeated, slowly but clearly. “I will not be speaking to you.” Her English was near perfect – Natasha only heard the faint traces of her buried accent because she was listening for it.
The lawyer clearly experienced a brief flare of boldness; he set his palms flat on the desk and leaned towards her motionless form. “Unfortunately, I am the only one who will be speaking to you.”
Aleksandrina’s eyes flew open and fixed upon the lawyer with such intensity that he jumped and squawked. She listened to some of the agents around her sigh in frustration at his obvious admittance of fear. She had to fight a smile. Aleksandrina’s mouth curled in a brief snarl. “What I have to say can only be heard by them. They are the only ones who will understand.”
What? Her heart skipped an anxious beat. Asking to speak to her and Steve made sense, but Sam too?
Muffled voices raised in anger almost drew her attention. Tony and Steve were yelling, though the soundproofing of the office glass made the words indecipherable. Natasha looked around, unconsciously seeking Sam in the near-chaos of the bustling command centre. He was where he had been left, hands folded on the desk in front of him. He met her gaze readily enough, though there was a note of betrayal in his dark gaze. But no comprehension. Of course. He didn’t have access to the audio feed like she did. Something about her face must have alarmed him, because he frowned, and moved to stand. She shook her head once subtly, and then reached coolly for the control panel, directing the audio feed into Sam’s office. She couldn’t risk alerting Tony by letting Steve here.
Sam’s frown deepened as he looked to the speaker above his head in distinct confusion.
“-Understand what?” The lawyer was trying to sound brave still. Sam’s eyes narrowed. Natasha watched as Aleksandrina looked slowly into the camera lens.
“Romanov, Rogers, Wilson.” She repeated dully, though her eyes were sharp with meaning. Sam stiffened, something like surprise dawning on his features.
“Ghost-”
“Romanov, Rogers, Wilson.” Aleksandrina cut him off again. The lawyer turned too, giving the camera a helpless look. Someone barked a short order in German to leave. He got up and left wordlessly, leaving the desk and chair empty. Aleksandrina closed her eyes and was still once more.
The door to Barnes’ cell was opened and she stood back to observe the psychiatrist. Ross joined her, and there was a moment of held breath and stillness in the room. The perverse human want to understand the working of evil transfixed them all. She could compare it to a teenager’s fascination with serial killers.
“Hello, Mr. Barnes.” The man’s English had an odd accent – not quite German, not quite Russian. Natasha tried to place it. “I have been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you. Do you mind if I sit?” Barnes remained stoic, gaze still fixed on a point above the man’s head. “Your first name is James?”
Natasha watched Sharon Carter head towards Sam’s office. Steve had joined their friend, and was still watching the live-feed intently. Natasha wondered if Steve knew about Carter’s hopeless crush. It was unlikely.
“I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask you a few questions.” The bob of James’ throat as he swallowed was the only indication he was listening to the man. “Do you know where you are James?” Natasha refocussed on the more pressing issue. Why had Aleksandrina been so adamant about speaking to the three of them? She hadn’t even asked for Barnes. What did the three of them have in common with her? What could they hear that others couldn’t? “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.”
“My name is Bucky.” It came out a soft rasp, and Natasha resisted the urge to turn to Steve. She could imagine the exultation her friend must have been feeling – and the sorrow.
From what she knew of Bucky – the man Steve had known – he was near as careful as the Soldier. He had always had a sniper’s eye, a long-reaching foresight. Meticulous, even. And yet, he had blown up the UN and been caught on camera. It was the fact that he had been seen at all, she realised, that was so strange. It was Aleksandrina’s ability that kept them so well hidden. It was years and years of training and practice that had created the mythology, the spectres they were. It didn’t make sense, she realised, for them to have been seen. To be alert and aware of cameras was innate; it was learned. And yet…
Somehow the partner of an invisible woman had turned his face to the camera and been seen.
Natasha held no love for Russia. She held no love for the Academy, or for HYDRA, or for any of the institutions that had created her – and yet she respected and trusted their training so implicitly that she was certain Barnes and Romanov would not have allowed themselves to be photographed. So how-
Unless-
Her rational mind spun and whirred, and yet the idea, the notion was forming; this was not their work. This was not them.
Natasha looked again at Aleksandrina in her cell, and considered a horrible possibility.
What was the one thing she, Sam and Steve had in common with Aleksandrina?Washington DC.
Why was Barnes caught on camera so obviously? He wasn’t.
Who knew about Barnes, and who knew about DC?
Something like sick dread made her gut clench, and she had to keep her hand from creeping for a weapon that wasn’t there.
HYDRA.
The lights went out, and they were plunged into darkness.