2013

Brooklyn, New York City

Malteds Restaurant & Bar

 

(Omniscient POV)

As shards of glass scatter to the office floor, the restaurant owner's head abruptly slumped atop her desk, falling lifelessly forward onto the polished wooden surface.

Blood pooled instantly under her skull, leaking out from the fresh gunshot in her head and soaking her clothes as the crimson stains began seeping to the ground.

Before any of those witnessing could react, another loud crash echoed throughout the room accompanied by heavy footsteps pounding loudly from downstairs.

*Bang!*

*Bang!*

*Bang!*

Gunfire could be heard echoing from the lower levels of the restaurant, causing Captain America and Black Widow to spring into action as the initial shock wore off and their instincts kicked in automatically.

They reacted swiftly leaping out of chairs and preparing themselves defensively even though neither knew who had fired upon them nor why they were currently under attack.

Cap unholstered his shield from his back as he rushed toward the staircase leading downwards, scanning the area frantically while searching for threats.

He spotted three armed figures moving cautiously along the kitchen corridor heading deeper inside Malts. Two large burley guys carrying shotguns whose faces were concealed beneath black balaclavas; one man sporting a long gun strapped across his chest, whereas the third figure carried an assault rifle slung over its shoulder. All weapons pointed unwaveringly at whoever lay dead on the floor beyond the doorway. They advanced steadily firing shots sporadically until reaching the body lying prone amidst broken pieces of shattered glass scattered haphazardly.

A few seconds later, the sound of gunfire ceased abruptly leaving only deafening echoes filling the air. As soon as it ended, Cap charged full speed downhill charging blindly toward the gunmen aiming unflinchingly at him.

One second passed – then another —then a fourth …before the barrel of the shotgun swung wildly away from Cap and flew harmlessly overhead smashing violently against the wall behind him. In response, he lunged forwards grabbing hold of the gunman's arm and throwing him sideways crashing forcefully into the far end of the countertop breaking it apart.

Two other gunmen moved to attack, but each was shot twice before they reached him, knocking them back to fall unconscious to the floor.

Cap looked over and saw Black Widow coming up from behind him, a smoking Glock 26 pistol held firmly in her hand.

"Thanks." Cap acknowledged gratefully without turning around.

She nodded nonchalantly as they both continued past the kitchen area into the dining hall where a small group of terrified civilians could be seen cowering and huddled together tightly amongst overturned tables and chairs.

"Are you all okay?" Cap asked concerned as he carefully scanned the crowd, receiving a few frightened nods.

Six bloody corpses lay sprawled around the room, four women and two men dressed similarly to the thugs in the kitchen. Their bloodied clothing was stained red with numerous bullet holes riddled strategically across various vital areas. One victim was even crumpled underneath a toppled television, staring vacantly ahead at nothingness as pools of congealed blood formed below them.

"Where's Brock?" Captain America asked aloud not taking his attention off any potential enemies that may still be lurking nearby.

"Don't know, but this is definitely his handiwork," Black Widow said, gesturing towards the bodies littering the scene.

"Please!!! I'll tell you ev- Aaaarrraghh!!!!" A sudden distressed voice sounded out from outside the building.

Turning sharply back toward the entranceway, the pair of heroes began to move toward the source of the commotion cautiously.

Just as they arrived near the door, an old grey-bearded Caucasian male burst through the glass of the front door, gasping for breath as he struggled to catch himself amid the broken shard strewn about the doorway.

He stumbled clumsily, dragging his badly beaten body through the smashed glass and staggering to his feet before finally catching sight of Cap and Black Widow approaching him slowly.

Upon seeing them, he gasped again audibly, inhaling ragged breaths of relief before collapsing limply to the floor groaning in pain and clutching the side of his stomach.

"P-please!! Keep him away!!" The man cried weakly struggling feebly as he rolled helplessly onto his knees despite obvious agony wracking his whole frame.

Cap and Black Widow stopped momentarily in confusion at the injured man's words. Glancing back towards the door, they watched wide-eyed as a familiar form stepped confidently through the broken glass pane.

Brock walked tall among the carnage, holding a large barrel sniper rifle casually in his hands as he moved toward the heroic duo.

A relaxed smirk spread across his lips as he approached. Then, stopping just inches shy of the injured man kneeling on the ground, he rested the barrel of the large weapon harshly against his back, forcing the poor fellow to the ground painfully.

"Aaarrrggh!! Please don't hurt me!!!!", the wounded man whimpered pitifully begging for mercy.

"What are you doing?!"Cap demanded authoritatively, stepping closer in an attempt to stop Brock from hurting the already battered individual further.

Brock looked over at him briefly, before returning his gaze to the screaming man at his feet. "This guy is the one who fired the first shot." He calmly explains to Cap. "He's with the Cadre, they all are. And last I checked we still have a missing woman to rescue from these scumbags."

Captain America opened his mouth ready to respond angrily but instead found himself taken aback by Brock's explanation. Though adverse to such brutal methods, Cap stepped back and remained silent, watching closely as Brock continued his interrogation of the injured man at his feet.

"You're right," Captain America conceded quietly after hearing Brock speak. "We need information... so let's hear what he has to say…"

Brock nodded.

"…Okay…okay….just please don't kill m-me…." The tortured man begged miserably squirming uncontrollably as tears streamed down his cheeks, wetting his beard.

After some consideration, Brock lowered the muzzle of the rifle slightly, allowing it to rest gently at the base of the victim's neck as he spoke sternly, addressing the captive directly.

"Where is Sana Amanat?"He asked coldly, demanding immediate compliance from the trembling prisoner. "Tell me exactly where she is located, or we get to continue our little game from the roof." His tone was clear about which option he preferred.

The beaten man sobbed incoherently, shaking visibly as he glanced over at Cap and tried unsuccessfully to plead for help. Finally giving up, he simply stared blankly ahead, blinking rapidly like a deer in headlights, unable to comprehend anything else happening in this world except his impending death.

Unwillingly, the unfortunate hostage answered haltingly, "Look, I-I don't know, okay." He stuttered nervously, refusing to look up at Brock as he spoke. "Boss told me to come here, kill the bitch in the office and torch the place. That's it!" He spat nervously, glancing furtively at Cap and Black Widow standing silently at the side. "That's all I know!" He pleaded hopefully.

Withdrawing the weapon slightly, Brock placed the butt of the firearm next to the man's forehead, resting it lightly there for a moment before raising it up and slamming it brutally against the injured man's face, fracturing several bones within his nose in an instant and sending excruciating pain shooting through his body.

"Aaaaaarrrrraghh!!!" The man groaned in anguish as he clutched his mangled facial features, trying desperately to keep pressure against his bleeding wound.

"Where is Sana Amanat?" Brock repeated menacingly, repeating his question yet again. This time, however, more aggressive than before.

"Please!! T-they'll kill me if I talk!" Still crying profusely and coughing incessantly due to severe internal damage, the beaten man looked upwards timidly, pleading for salvation, but received no answer whatsoever save for a cruel kick planted squarely between his ribs.

Wincing horribly, the captured man finally relented as the pain became too much to bear, answering reluctantly, "S-she...She's being kept in one of the storehouses at the Port of New Haven..."

Black Widow quickly touched the commlink in her ear connecting her directly to Fury, immediately informing him of the new development.

Meanwhile, Captain America stepped up beside Brock and leaned down over the bleeding victim, speaking softly and reassuringly.

"...it's gonna be alright buddy." He reassured the panicked individual, hoping to calm him enough so that he might provide useful intel regarding their current predicament. "Calm yourself now and tell us everything you can remember about those involved in this mess …"

*********

New Haven, Connecticut

Port of New Haven

A Few Hours Later

 

(Omniscient Pov)

In the late hours of dusk, a large group of heavily armed mercenaries rushed about the Port of New Haven, surrounding the shipyard in a tight perimeter.

Various vehicles were lined up alongside the main gate, guarded by armed security personnel wearing tactical gear. Each vehicle contained ten well-trained operatives equipped with high-powered machine guns, rifles capable of penetrating armored plating, and grenade launchers mounted atop their hoods.

Inside the cargo warehouse, situated adjacent to the docks, a lone figure clad in dark attire was sitting comfortably on top of a stack of crates. Sheathed securely in a full suit of Kevlar body armor, he appeared completely inconspicuous amongst the activity unfolding all around him.

A young woman, with dozens of bruises marking her dark skin, was tied to a chair facing the man, blindfolded and gagged. Her wrists and ankles bore deep welts, inflicted by the rough rope bindings and large patches of dried blood marred her bare arms and legs, evidence left behind when she'd been stripped naked and beaten by the man seated in front of her.

Tears ran freely down the woman's eyes as she trembled fearfully, dreading whatever fate awaited her.

"Well hello, there sweetheart." Came a sinister-sounding voice from somewhere behind her. "It seems someone had quite the fun day, didn't they? You must love getting your pretty ass whipped every once in a while, right darling?"

Her head snapped back suddenly to find herself looking straight into the brown orbs belonging to none other than the same man responsible for kidnapping and delivering her to the bald psycho sitting on the crates.

Eric Jones, leader of the Cadre mercenary group, approached the bound female as she struggled furiously, kicking hard against the restraints binding her to the metal chair.

"Ahhh! mmhh!" An anguished cry escaped from the young woman's gagged mouth as she kicked repeatedly, attempting to break free from the ropes keeping her restrained. However, Eric merely laughed heartedly as he moved towards the man seated atop the stack of crates.

"Did you get what you needed?" Eric questioned the man, who responded only with a creepy smile while maintaining eye contact with the captive woman.

The man had a thick bushy ginger beard extending roughly halfway down his chin. A bald head sat upon his shoulders supported by a muscular figure covered entirely by black Kevlar body armor. Pale green irises reflected the intensity and madness emanating from within his mind. On either arm hung a long curved blade attached to each forearm respectively; its sharpened edges gleaming ominously under the dim lighting inside the darkened warehouse.

"Baker!" Eric called, trying to gain the man's attention.

The bald man, Baker, turned slightly in acknowledgment then returned his intense stare fixed firmly on the girl in front of him. "Need a bit more time. She's been very difficult to work with...very stubborn."

Eric frowned disapprovingly, "We don't have any more time. We've already wasted far too much waiting for you to complete your task. You paid us to grab the girl, not babysit you two while you try to make conversation. So unless you want to pay up double… me and my men are done!" He declared impatiently.

Baker sighed theatrically, crossing his beefy arms over his chest, staring thoughtfully at the frightened woman before responding with a smug grin.

"Fine… take your money and go…" With that said he reached forward swiftly, grabbing hold of the girl's throat, effortlessly lifting her up along with the metal chair she was tied to without any resistance. "But mark my words …if anyone finds out about this, or me….you won't live to regret it.."

Without another word, Baker dragged the gagged woman along as he moved, carrying her out of the storehouse, past the numerous guards stationed around the dock, towards a small boat parked nearby.

Eric watched on as the big man left with his prize until eventually turned back towards his own team members gathered outside the building.

"Pack everything up! We're leaving." He ordered briskly.

His people moved quickly and began hastily packing equipment aboard various trucks lining both sides of the port road leading to the gates.

As they prepared to leave the area, one of the mercenaries approached Eric cautiously, asking hesitatingly, "Sir, what about Malcolm and his squad? They haven't returned yet from their mission…"

Eric paused momentarily at hearing news concerning the best sniper in his group. Normally quiet and reserved, Malcom often went unnoticed during their operations because he rarely talked. But everyone knew how deadly accurate he could be. If something happened to him, then things would definitely change drastically for them all.

Feeling a sense of uneasiness creep up on him, Eric couldn't shake the feeling that something bad may have occurred.

"Fuck it. If they're dead then they're dead," He growled gruffly, dismissing the matter altogether. "We're getting out of her-"

*Boom!!*

Suddenly, a loud explosion erupted at the front gate of the port, causing many of the mercenaries to rush away from the gate as they frantically tried to seek cover.

Several gunshots rang out, followed shortly thereafter by screams echoing distantly amidst the chaotic din. In addition to gunfire came the distinct whirring sound of helicopters encircling the area overhead.

The S.H.I.E.L.D logo emblazoned pridefully across their hulls.

*********

A/n: Hey guys, I hope you are enjoying the story so far, and as always, thanks for reading!

If you like my work and want to support it, check out Patreon.com/Swarthy, where you can read early chapters or go to Paypal.me/xSwarthyx Every bit helps and is appreciated.