Chapter 1
“I’m begging you… don’t do this!” The woman cries, hands clasped in front of her like she’s praying and on her knees.
“Shut up!” One of the men with me hits her with the butt of his rifle, sending her sprawling across the floor, still.
“Damn. What a waste.” I say, gazing down at her with an air of indifference. It’s nothing I’ve never seen before.
“Let’s get out of here. This was a dead end.” Brock, our leader, says, everyone following after him as he starts to leave.
I stay behind, taking one last look at the room. Nothing. Like always. I turn to leave, almost all the way out the door when behind me, a can rolls. Pausing mid step, I raise my rifle, clicking the safety off and putting my finger on the trigger.
By the car, Brock watches me and holds up a finger. One minute.
I turn around quickly, pulling the rifle up to my shoulder as I do. Just in time to see someone dart out from behind the heavy drapes against the wall and straight towards me.
“Hey!” I yell, trying to get the attention of my team when the man tackles me to ground.
“Fuck,” I grunt , grappling with him over my gun and wishing I didn’t have so much gear on me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I whisper the mantra.
I finally get on top, pinning him down and holding the tip of my knife to his throat, having tossed the gun to the side a few minutes ago.
“Don’t fucking move.” I yell, hearing yelling outside and some gunfire. It seems I’ve attracted more than just my teammates attention.
“Almawt niematan eindama yakun jundiu alshita' wara'ak(1)!” He yells before shoving the knife into his throat.
Watching as the light leaves his eyes, I start to feel sick. I don’t know much Arabic but I know enough to know that I’m fucked if I stay here any longer.
Standing, I retrieve my gun from the floor, making sure it’s fully loaded and not damaged, before looking outside. My team lays dead in the sand, blood turning the ground around them pink.
It’s too late. I go back inside and kneel in the corner. Maybe if I get lucky, then I can take him out before he takes me out. But it’s not likely. This guy isn’t someone you pick a fight with and expect to win.
Heavy steps. I’m shaking. Over the loss of my teammates and my certain fate. The curtain shifts and I bite back the urge to open fire. He’s not going to come in through the front. He’ll probably come in through a window.
A hand grips the curtain and pulls it back, revealing the Winter Soldier in all his glory. Guess he is going to come in through the front door. I yell, squeezing down on the trigger and watching as he tries to raise his weapon to fight back, but doesn’t get that far before he’s on the ground. I jump out of the window, rounding the building to the cars parked in the front. I climb in the first one, sticking the key in the ignition and turning it, but the engine only sputters and gasps.
“No no no. C’mon, start already. Please.” I look up and see him in the mirror, limping towards me and I get more frantic, turning the key rapidly, each time it still refusing to start.
He reaches the door and grabs me by the neck, pulling me out and slamming me down onto the ground harshly. I wiggle around, trying to escape his hold but his metal arm is strong.
“Auf wiedersehen ratte(2).” He growls, punching me in the face and sending everything dark.
Translations:
1. Death is a blessing when the Winter Soldier is after you.
2. Goodbye rat.