Nature
James is getting the hang of this whole thing. He strides into a base in the Appalachian mountains like he’s coming in from the cold. It is to their detriment that they don’t notice that he is not as thin as he probably should be, that something is not quite right about the Soldier, in a way that they haven’t seen before. Americans are forgetful like that. They do not know his file, and that is why he is able to penetrate deep within the base before he crushes the throat of the man next to him.
They did not even disarm him properly. They saw him flinch at the words they spoke to him and assumed he was just the Asset. James can’t really complain. He felt real fear at the pain they promised, at the threat of the chair. That did not need to be faked.
He crushes another man’s skull with ease, pulling out his weapon and taking down the men who rush at him. This is what they deserve. They will kill him in every way that matters if they get the chance. It is about staying alive, of course, but it is mostly about killing them all. They must all die. Most of the people in this base have never seen him and have never seen him fight. He was used for cover work, mostly, which means that they think all he did was sit in a sniper’s nest. They don’t know what he can do in a crowd. James knows his locations and he uses them. This includes the bodies around him. This is why he was so effective.
They all die, because of course they do and James sets charges to blow the base. He will eradicate every last speck of them until he is done. He will remove those chairs off the face of the earth. When no chairs are left, he will be more free. Not every base he blows up has one in it, but the fewer agents HYDRA has, the better for his mission.
They tried, in the last base, to use the words, but he was fast enough. His body is heavy, but his motions are light and he is fast. They cannot stop him. He will not allow them to take his body and his mind again. He will not fail this mission. It is impossible. He has decided this.
James blows the charges as soon as he can. This catches him in the pulse of the explosion. His organs are not damaged, and only a little shrapnel hits his armor. This counts as success, he thinks, as he cleans the gunshot grazes. They smart a little, but the pain centers him, keeps his thoughts away from the chair that he saw. Order through pain. He returns to his stolen vehicle, returns to his hiding place, and readies himself for more international travel. This sort of thing is not easy with few resources, but if anyone can, James can make use of everything he is presented with.
He stops in Riga, ostensibly to rest, but really to ride out a flashback that hit him as soon as he stepped into the city. He falls into an alley and curls into the fetal position. He cries silently. He cannot move for three days. He can barely move the fourth.
Order through pain, he tells himself. He is in pain because that is the only way that he can stay sharp. The pain of memories bursting to the surface of his brain keeps him alive. What he remembers helps him. This isn’t exactly right. Sometimes the memories are only flashes, sometimes they are from long, long ago. But they all hurt, so they must benefit him somehow. He doesn’t know how to square all of it away. The only common denominator is the hurt, but that’s how it’s always been.
He keeps writing in his journals.
They are more coherent now, he thinks, in comparison to early on. But only by a little. His brain is changing, and he keeps directing it in one particular direction, but what will happen with the mission ends? He is still trying to not think about that.
He had to hide some of them in the US before he left. They would have taken up too much space that he needs for guns and ammunition, so he hid the oldest ones in a spot that he wrote down in his current journal. He will come back for them, one day.