Chapter 1
It was the cold that woke him. Slowly the ink black darkness that was clouding his consciousness lifted and he was able to make out his surroundings.
He was lying on his back on something that felt like a surgical table. A cold white light hang from the ceiling above him, blinding him, making it impossible to see more than the shapes of what was around him.
He was alone. Apart from the quiet buzz of some sort of machine he couldn’t see, everything was silent. He tried to remember how he got here, what he had done, who he was! Closing his eyes he desperately rummaged his brain for a memory but there was nothing but darkness.
He opened his eyes again and tried to get up but when pushing himself up, he flopped left, unable to support himself. A scream escaped him as he took a look and saw nothing where his left arm used to be.
He heard steps and managed to struggle into an upright sitting position. A small squat man in a white lab smock approached him.
“Ah, you are awake,” he said with a heavy European (German?) accent. “Do you remember me, Sergeant Barnes?”
Barnes? A small light ignited inside his head and began to dispel the darkness. Tags of memories started to drift to the surface. His name was James Buchanan Barnes. He was a member of the US Army and –
“I am Doctor Armin Zola,” the small man continued. “We met before.”
James tried to remember but again his thoughts became blurry. Why would a German doctor talk to him? Wasn’t he supposed to fight the Germans?
“What happened?” he groaned and nodded at the bandaged stump that used to be his left arm.
“You had a little accident,“ Zola explained.
“What kind of accident?”
“You fell. Into a ravine.”
James looked at him horror-struck. “And I survived? That’s impossible!”
“No. It is improbable but not impossible. You are a very good soldier, Sergeant Barnes. One of the best in fact, and we have decided to make you even better. We already started during your first stay with us but unfortunately you left before we were finished.”
Cold fear grabbed James’ insides. “What have you done to me?”
“Nothing to worry about. We simply enhanced you. That is how you could survive the fall.”
“Enhanced? How –“
“Oh I’m not going to bore you with the details. Let’s just say that once we have put you back together, you will be stronger, faster and more resilient than any of your former comrades. Well, except for one, maybe.”
James looked at him quizzically but Zola didn’t elaborate. Instead he walked over to the machine that James had heard before and that he only now realised was connected to his right arm and chest through a number of thin tubes and wires.
“Your vital signs look good,” Zola said after a few moments of careful examination. “Much better than the last couple of days.”
Days? James tried not to show it but the revelation that he had been here for days was a shock.
“I think we can enter the final phase.” Zola pressed a button, and a minute later, three men dressed in identical black uniforms entered the room carrying what looked like a five foot glass cylinder filled with white smoke.
“What is that?!” James tried to get away but the lack of his arm made his movements unfocused and aimless.
“It is a gift. You really don’t have to be afraid of us. We are the good guys. We saved you. Why would we go through all the trouble of picking you up and nursing you back to health if we had any harm in mind?”
James had to confess that this did actually make sense; however, he was still too confused and remembered too little of his past to be fully convinced.
“What about my friends?” he asked. “Why didn’t they come for me? How exactly did I fall into that ravine? Who was with me? How did you find me? Where are we now? Who are you and those people here? Whose side are you on? Are you German?”
Zola laughed quietly while the uniforms placed the cylinder carefully on a table next to James. “Those are a lot of questions, soldier, but I have nothing to hide. First of all, I am Swiss, but yes, most of the others here are German. However, we are no Nazis. We belong to Hydra, we are on nobody’s side. You don’t remember anything, do you?”
James shook his head. “The last thing I remember is leaving Brooklyn after receiving my draft notice. That must have been months ago.”
“It was. And I am very sorry to tell you that your so-called friends betrayed you.”
“What?”
“You fought by their side but when the Germans attacked, you got injured and they left you behind to die. That’s when we found you and brought you to our secret facility for the first time.”
James shook his head in disbelieve. “That cannot be true.”
“I am sorry, my friend. I wish it wasn’t.”
“But … why? Why would they do that?”
“I don’t know but a few weeks after you had recovered and joined us, they came to our former hiding place and destroyed almost everything. Only a few of us survived. It was terrible. You fought bravely for us but in the end they were stronger and took you with them. Maybe they thought you would give them inside information on us. I don’t want to imagine what they did to you to get our secrets out of you. Maybe their torture is the reason for your memory loss. And when they finally realised that you wouldn’t say anything and were of no use to them, they kicked you into the ravine, I assume.” Zola looked at him sadly and James desperately tried to make sense of what he had just heard.
His head was buzzing. It was simply too much. Could this actually be true? He used to be a member of the US Army. Weren’t they famous for always sticking together? For not leaving anyone behind? For being the good guys? But then again, he couldn’t remember any of them. He didn’t know what it had been like to be in the army. Whether his comrades had liked him or not. Maybe everything he had been told about the army and the war before leaving the US had been a lie. Zola was right. Hydra had no reason to save him unless they were trying to help him. Maybe they really were the good guys. Right now this was as good an explanation for all this as any other.
All of a sudden he felt incredibly tired. He didn’t want this. Any of it. He longed to return to the soothing darkness of unconsciousness. But he knew that there was no going back, just like he was probably never going to retain his memory of the past months. He would have to face the future and make the best of the situation. If Hydra was willing to give him a second chance in life and to finally fight for what was right, he was willing to do whatever was in his power. However, this probably wasn’t much given that he was now handicapped.
“Thank you for saving me but I’m afraid I won’t be of much use to you with only one arm left.”
Zola chuckled and nodded at the three men in uniforms who had stood so silently throughout their whole conversation that James had almost forgotten they were there.
“You might want to put these on,” Zola said and handed James a pair of safety goggles while he himself put on goggles and a pair of protective gloves.
His heart beating violently against his chest, James watched anxiously as one of the men carefully opened the glass cylinder. A loud hiss was followed by a wave of cold air and then the man took a long silver object from the container.
Carefully Zola took it from him and looked at it lovingly. “Isn’t it beautiful, Sergeant Barnes? The latest technology. Stronger and more adjustable than anything ever designed. It is a big honour for you.”
James took a closer look and realised that the silver object was in fact a prosthetic arm. It consisted of numerous metal plates that interlinked perfectly creating an even surface.
Half an hour later, the arm was attached to James’ stump, perfectly connected to the rest of his body making him feel complete again.
“This is amazing,” he said unable to avert his gaze from the smooth movements of his new limb. He grabbed a surgical knife from the table, clenched his fist and then dropped the knife again – turned into a tight lump as if it was made of paper. “I cannot wait to use it in battle.”