2014

Washington D.C

Classified Location

Underground HYDRA Base

One Day Later

 

(Omniscient POV)

In a chamber beneath the streets of Washington D.C, a small gathering of various individuals from a multitude of fields were gathered together. Police, Politicians, Military Personal, Scientists... Each of them wore different uniforms, but all of them shared the same goal.

All eyes were upon the speaker as he stepped up to the podium in front of the group. All eyes save for those belonging to a single person, who stood off to the side and remained silent as he discreetly studied each of the faces of those present.

Brock, fresh off a flight from New York, scanned the crowd as the speaker approached the podium, noting each individual's appearance and demeanor as he mentally categorized them in his mind.

It was a process he had perfected over the years, honing his observational skills to near perfection. As he noted the faces of those in attendance, Brock slowly grew more satisfied with the outcome of his observations.

He was pleased with the way things were progressing.

"Today marks the first step toward bringing about a new age of peace and justice for all of humanity." The speaker, Alexander Pierce, intoned as he cleared his throat and glanced around the room. "Project Insight is a monumental undertaking, and we're fortunate enough to have such capable and dedicated people working on it. Today, we begin the process of ridding the world of those who seek to bring humanity harm."

The audience murmured in approval as they listened to Pierce's words, their attention rapt upon his every word.

"We must remain vigilant against the enemies hiding among us, concealed in plain sight. These are individuals we trust, evil men and women who exploit their unfettered power, much like the so-called 'Avengers',"

Pierce continued, his voice growing louder, fueling the audience's indignation. "But today, we take a stand. We shall no longer tolerate these anomalies trampling upon the rights of our fellow humans. We will not sit idly while those who should be mere weapons are given free reign over our Earth. Today, we take action. And with the help of loyal soldiers like you, we shall create a safer world to live in!"

The room erupted in applause and cheers as Pierce basked in their adulation, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.

Meanwhile, Brock watched the scene unfold in silence, observing the group from a distance, his attention lingering on the man standing beside Pierce, who appeared to be observing the proceedings with empty and detached eyes.

The man wore all-black attire, a mask partially covering his face, and multiple weapons strapped to his body. However, the most striking feature was his silver metal left arm protruding from his sleeve—a familiar sight from the media of Brock's previous universe.

The Winter Soldier.

Pierce's voice resonated with confidence and conviction as he addressed the assembled crowd. The applause subsided, and a determined silence settled over the chamber. All eyes turned to the speaker, eagerly awaiting their respective assignments.

"You all have your assignments," Pierce declared, his smile reflecting the trust he placed in their capabilities. "Go forth and hunt down the traitors who pose a threat to the safety of our world. Each and every one of you is a crucial asset in this battle against the forces that seek to obstruct our just cause. Together, we will prevail!"

Clapping ensued as Pierce moved to exit the stage, making his way through the applauding crowd, before stopping in front of Brock and motioning for him to follow.

Brock frowned slightly, unsure of what the man wanted, but did as instructed. Following in step with Pierce and the Winter Soldier, Brock exited the chamber and headed toward a nearby lift.

The doors opened as Pierce pushed a button, allowing the odd trio to enter the elevator. The three stepped inside and moments later, the car began to rise.

"What did you think of my speech, Major Rumlow?" Pierce asked curiously, a slight smile playing across his weathered lips.

"I thought it was...inspiring," Brock replied neutrally, keeping the tension out of his voice as he eyed the Winter Soldier from the corner of his eye.

"I'm glad you liked it. I always try to inspire my agents to do great things." Pierce agreed happily, his expression brightening as he glanced down at Brock. "How old are you now, Major? And I mean your real age, not the one we gave."

"Nineteen years old, Sir," Brock replied.

"So young...with much uncertainty ahead," Pierce mused thoughtfully. "I am certain of many things, Major. It is the public who harbors doubts, and such uncertainty can lead to costly mistakes—mistakes that claim innocent lives. But if I can convince the public that I am right, I can rid the world of much trouble."

Brock didn't respond to the old man's rambling. Instead, he turned his attention away from the Secretary and examined the Winter Soldier again.

The man was staring blankly ahead at the elevator doors, not a single thought running through his head.

"I see you're curious about our friend here," Pierce remarked, noticing Brock's focus shift. "He's quite remarkable, isn't he? He survived numerous forms of torture and experimentation for several decades before finally snapping."

"I've heard the stories," Brock replied shortly, irritated that Pierce was trying to draw him into a conversation. "He was Steve Rogers's partner back in the day."

"And now he's ours." Pierce agreed, clearly impressed by the fact that Brock knew so much about the brainwashed soldier. "The perfect weapon for a sentimental fool like Captain America."

Brock didn't respond, he merely stared at the Winter Soldier as the elevator rose toward the surface.

"Do you know why he's here?" Pierce asked, turning his attention to Brock as he leaned casually against the side of the elevator.

"No," Brock answered blandly, giving no indication that he was lying.

"It's not a secret that there are some in the organization who disagree with my methods," Pierce admitted frankly. "And sometimes, they need to be shown exactly what happens when a person does not follow orders. Our friend is very effective at that task."

Brock inwardly scoffed as the elevator reached their floor, and the trio emerged into a dimly lit, abandoned parking garage that served as the entrance to the underground facility.

Flickering lights guided their path across the concrete floor.

"You may be wondering why I singled you out among everyone else," Pierce began as they approached a small convoy of blacked-out cars, guarded by armed personnel. "I hold you in high regard, Major Rumlow. You and your team have proven remarkably effective in past operations, making you the ideal choice for dealing with one of my problems."

The trio arrived at the convoy of vehicles and Winter soldier moved ahead of Pierce, entering the last car in line that quickly pulled away from the rest of the convoy. Brock stayed where he was as Pierce climbed into one of the vehicles.

As Pierce settled into his seat, Brock followed suit, glancing curiously after the car that just left.

"Don't worry about him, he has his own orders," Pierce replied, looking out the window. "As for you...I have a different assignment in mind."

"What kind of assignment?" Brock asked curiously, even though he had a good idea of what Pierce wanted him to do.

"A crucial one," Pierce replied, looking over at the young man with an intense gaze. "One that will demand our utmost dedication to our cause. Major Rumlow, are you prepared to make the necessary sacrifices to ensure a safer world?"

Brock met Pierce's gaze, his mind already calculating his next moves. "You can count on me, sir. I will fulfill my duty to the best of my abilities."

Pierce's smile widened, acknowledging Brock's commitment. The car pulled away from the underground facility, setting them on a course toward a future filled with unnecessary bloodshed.

************

Washington D.C

A Few Hours Later

 

Speeding along the bustling packed streets of Washington D.C, a single black SUV weaved with precision between lanes and traffic, its powerful engine roaring through the city's veins.

Inside, Nick Fury sat behind the wheel, guiding the car expertly through the city streets.

"Open secure line zero-four-zero-five," Fury ordered as he turned the vehicle down a narrow street.

The comms unit embedded in the dashboard hummed to life, establishing a connection with lightning speed.

"This is Hill," responded a female voice on the other end, her voice crisp and determined.

"Agent Hill, I need you here in D.C... Deep shadow conditions," Fury briskly relayed his orders, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

"Roger that, Sir." Agent Hill confirmed. "Give me four hours."

"You have three, over," Fury replied curtly, his words conveying the gravity of the situation before terminating the call.

The SUV accelerated through traffic until it stops at a red traffic light, waiting for the signal to change. Outside, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the busy streets below.

Nick kept his eyes straight, focused on the road ahead, but he couldn't help but glance over at the car pulling beside him. A white police cruiser, with two officers inside.

As Fury glanced over at the pair, he noticed the two police officers in the cruiser regard him with suspicion. He returned their gaze, a stern frown on his lips as he thought they were judging him based on his race.

"Want to see my lease?" He asked mockingly, his words laced with a touch of defiance.

The officers glared back, their animosity palpable, as they abruptly sounded their police siren once, a clear display of intimidation, before driving off as the traffic light shifted to green.

Nick sighed internally, shaking his head in disappointment as he too started pulling forward.

*Crash!!*

Suddenly, as Fury goes to drive off, another police car smashes into the side of his SUV, ramming it off the road forcefully, until it crashed violently into a row of parked cars.

The screech of tires and the blare of sirens fill the air as three more police cars converge, slamming into the SUV hard enough to knock the breath from Fury's lungs and blocking the SUV from escaping.

Within seconds, even more police cruisers had suddenly arrived, strategically blocking any escape routes for Fury's vehicle. Law enforcement officers, armed with riot batons and assault rifles, moved in, forming a tight perimeter around the wreckage.

"Fracture detected. Recommend anesthetic injection," a robotic voice sounded from the dashboard, the cool mechanical tone contrasting with the tense situation. A syringe descended from the ceiling, waiting to administer its contents.

Fury, blood trickling from a wound on his head, reached for the syringe, injecting its contents into his arm as a SWAT team truck pulled up alongside the immobilized SUV.

"Computer, analyze D.C. Metro's dispatch network for nearby units," Fury commanded, his voice strained but unwavering as he fought to regain his footing within the shattered remnants of his once-secure vehicle.

"D.C. Metro Police dispatch shows no units in this area." The computer responds immediately.

"Shit!" Fury curses with a wince as he realizes the people coming after him weren't genuine law enforcement. "Get me out of here!"

"Unable to comply. Propulsion systems are offline." The computer replies calmly, as the fake officers outside began firing at the bulletproof armored SUV.

Fury hears the bullets pinging off the massive armor plating, but the armor on the vehicle doesn't budge.

"Then reboot the system, dammit!" He orders as the attacking police fire on the SUV stopped once they saw that it wasn't vulnerable to their weapons.

"Systems Reboot initiated." The computer replies.

The police, seeing the SUV's immobility, bring out a huge, mobile, automatic battering ram from one of the SWAT trucks and began setting it up in front of the SUV's driver-side door.

"There's got to be something you can do!" Fury shouts at the computer, desperate to get out of the situation.

The computer didn't even get a chance to respond before the battering ram outside slammed into the window of the SUV, cracking the bullet-riddled glass slightly.

"Warning! Window integrity compromised," The computer states calmly, relaying the obvious situation.

"Shut up and do your fucking job!" Fury snarled, his patience wearing thin, as he moved to the passenger seat of the wrecked vehicle. With painstaking effort, he pushed himself up, surveying the damages to his wrecked vehicle.

The battering ram slams into Fury's car window once more, causing a spiderweb of cracks across the tough glass.

"Window Integrity at thirty-one percent. Deploying countermeasures." the computer explained dutifully.

"Hold that order!" Fury commanded, his instincts overriding the computer's suggestion, watching the battering ram assault the window yet again.

"Window Integrity at nineteen percent. Offensive measures advised." The computer repeats.

"Hold, goddammit!" Fury roars as he winces from the impact of the battering ram smashing against the window once more.

"Window Integrity at one percent. Offensive measures advised." The computer announces.

"Engage!" Fury yells as the battering ram slams into the window one last time, breaking through the glass and sending shards flying everywhere.

Just as the police broke through the protection of the vehicle, a compact minigun suddenly drops down from the roof inside the car and Fury uses it to return fire on the cops surrounding him.

The squad of officers, stunned by the sudden appearance of the gun, barely have time to recover before Fury fires on them.

*Rat-tat-tat-tat!!!*

Bullets rained down upon the impostors, resounding with a vengeance as they found their marks.

"Motherfuckers!" Fury curses as he empties the weapon into the nearest squad.

One officer screamed in agony, struck by a round in the leg, his cries muffled as he collapsed to the ground.

Fury grits his teeth as he continues to fire, refusing to stop until every cop holding a weapon has been neutralized.

"Propulsion systems back online." The computer announces cheerfully, a glimmer of hope amid the wreckage.

"Thank fuck for that," Fury muttered under his breath, his focus unwavering as he continued to unleash a hail of bullets on the remaining opposition. "Full acceleration, now!"

As if responding to Fury's command, the battered SUV surged forward, its tires screeching against the asphalt. With a calculated maneuver, it rammed into the police cars blocking its escape, forcefully reversing and surging forward, evading oncoming traffic by mere inches.

"Initiate vertical takeoff!" Fury commands as he aims the minigun back at the cops taking cover behind the SWAT truck.

"Flight systems damaged." The computer informs him.

"Damn it." Fury growls as he knows he won't be able to escape with the police pursuing him.

Activating the comms system, he switches over to the emergency channel for S.H.I.E.L.D.

"This is Fury, request immediate assistance," Fury urgently called out, his words laced with desperation as he fired upon the pursuing police vehicles.

"Communications array damaged."

"Shit!" Fury cursed, the weight of the situation bearing down on him as he fought to regain control.

Uncertain of whether the computer malfunction was part of the enemy's plan or a mere coincidence, Fury had no time to decipher the details. All he knew was that the situation was rapidly spiraling out of control, and he desperately needed help.

"Give me the wheel!" Fury orders as he moves into the driver's seat and takes over the car's driving from the computer as the assassins chase after him in their police cars.

The SUV hurtled through the streets, pursued relentlessly by the persistent swarm of police vehicles. Fury's mind raced, his eyes scanning for any opportunity to shake off his pursuers.

"Where the hell are we going!?" Fury demanded, frustration etched in his features as he deftly maneuvered through the congested streets.

"Traffic alert on Roosevelt Bridge. All vehicles stopped. 17th Avenue clear in three blocks, directly ahead." The computer nonchalantly replied, providing valuable information.

As Fury sped through the moving traffic, he forcefully collided with a few passing cars along the street, causing a chain reaction that led to a pile-up, temporarily impeding the progress of the police cars pursuing him.

The assassins emerged from their vehicles, their weapons aimed at Fury's car. Reacting swiftly, Fury mowed down two of them with the SUV, before getting past the traffic. But a few remaining assassins managed to swerve past the pile-up and continue to chase after him.

"Warning, approaching a crowded intersection." The computer states.

With his quick thinking and driving skills, Fury managed to shake off the remaining police vehicles, eliminating the immediate threat, before running a red light and narrowly avoiding a collision with the throng of cars.

The civilians, caught in the crossfire of Fury's escape attempt, are thrown into a state of panic. The sound of crunching metal and shattering glass fills the air as the innocent drivers, caught off guard by the sudden chaos, collide with each other.

"We're gonna lose him!" Panic laced one officer's voice as they witnessed their comrades trapped in the aftermath of the large crash.

"No, we won't," a civilian-looking figure, concealed beneath tactical gear, assures him.

 

The assassins quickly get left behind as Fury guides the busted-up SUV through the traffic jam and onto the bridge.

"Get me off the grid!" Fury commands as he wipes the blood and sweat from his face and looks back in the rearview to see if anyone is on his tail.

"Calculating route to secure location. Route projected to take five minutes." The computer states calmly.

"That's fine, just don't give us away," Fury tells the computer as he continues to speed towards the exit ramp of the bridge.

As they approached the toll booth, Fury's attention was abruptly seized by a mysterious figure appearing in the middle of the road ahead.

Clad entirely in black, with a half-mask concealing part of their face, the figure carried a formidable grenade launcher slung over the shoulder of a metallic arm.

"Motherfuc-" Fury began, his sentence cut short as the masked individual swiftly fired a grenade that flies out and attaches itself to the bottom of Fury's vehicle.

*Booom!*

The explosion engulfed the SUV in flames, propelling Fury onto the floor as the vehicle flipped over onto its roof, skidding along the concrete of the city streets.

Groaning weakly, Fury struggled to sit up amidst the smoke-filled interior, his vision obscured.

Trapped within the fiery wreckage, Fury could only watch helplessly as the masked figure approached the overturned SUV.

Reacting swiftly, Fury reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a small, pen-like device. Twisting the cap, a short blade materialized—a pure, bright blue light that effortlessly sliced through the mangled metal roof of the SUV, as well as the concrete barrier separating the roadway from the sewers below.

The blue blade sliced through the layers of metal and concrete, exposing the dark and grimy tunnel beneath.

Using the remnants of his strength, Fury crawled out of the vehicle, dragging his injured body into the sewers, escaping the fiery inferno behind him.

He disappeared into the depths, leaving the wreckage of the SUV and the masked figure behind as sirens wailed in the distance, growing fainter with each passing second.

As Nick Fury crawls through the dimly lit tunnel, his vision blurred and his body aching, he pushes himself to keep moving. The stench of sewage and decay fills the air, assaulting his senses, but he fights through the nauseating environment, knowing that his survival depends on it.

With each painful inch gained, Fury's determination grows stronger. He reflects on his training and experience, drawing strength from his past victories and the countless times he has cheated death.

This isn't the first time he has found himself in a dire situation, and he knows it won't be the last.

***********

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

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