2014

Washington D.C

The Triskelion (S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters)

Few Hours After the Compound Escape

 

(Alexander Pierce POV)

As the dust settled within the charred and blood-soaked grounds of the Triskelion, I stood amidst the wreckage, my authoritative gaze sweeping over the desolate scene with a volatile mix of seething anger and deep-seated resentment.

The air was heavy with the acrid scent of smoke, a tangible reminder of the chaos that had unfolded, as the bitter taste of defeat lingered on my lips, fueling the flames of my frustration.

The aftermath of Captain America's and Crossbones' audacious escape had left a trail of destruction, a visceral testament to their abilities and our own shortcomings.

"Get me a damage assessment, now!" I barked, my voice slicing through the pandemonium like a whip. "I want a full report on the status of our systems, personnel, and the whereabouts of Captain Rogers and that interfering bastard, Crossbones!"

The agents around me moved swiftly, carrying out my orders as the tension in the air thickened with my growing anger. Every step they took, and every report they provided, only fueled my frustration further.

We were on the cusp of a glorious moment, ready to tighten our grip on power and unleash Hydra's true strength upon the unsuspecting world. The culmination of years of careful planning and manipulation was finally within our reach.

But then, in an instant, everything unraveled.

An unaccounted-for variable appeared out of nowhere, shattering the delicate web of MY meticulously crafted plans.

Why the hell did this have to happen now?

How did they manage to infiltrate our defenses?

And why, in the name of all that is unholy, was an unaffiliated third party interfering in business that was none of their concern?

Questions swirled in my mind, igniting the fires of frustration as I tried to make sense of the trail of events. The chaos had erupted with savage ferocity, catching us off guard and mercilessly exploiting the weaknesses of our defenses.

The cracks in our once-impregnable stronghold had been laid bare, threatening to undermine the foundations of our power.

As thoughts of the valuable assets I had lost, like Major Rumlow and his men, flooded my mind, I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning pale from the pressure.

Despite our reserve of agents remaining, the toll on the specially trained S.T.R.I.K.E task force was undeniable. The battle had taken a heavy toll, leaving the task force severely depleted, and the loss of skilled and experienced personnel was a setback that would require considerable effort to overcome.

Crossbones and Captain America had slipped through our grasp, their swift escape leaving behind a sprawling mess that now fell on me to clean up.

My gaze gravitated towards the gaping hole where the once formidable gate had stood, now reduced to nothing more than twisted metal and smoldering remnants.

Once a symbol of strength and authority, the sight now stood as a somber allegory, a stark reflection of the fracture in our carefully constructed facade, and it stoked the flames of my anger.

Amidst the chaos, agents scrambled to clean up the aftermath, but I could sense the whispers of doubt among my subordinates, their loyalty teetering on the edge of disillusionment.

After the battle, doubt began to seep into the minds of the Hydra agents. The overwhelming display of power from just one man had shaken their confidence, exposing the frailty of their own abilities in the face of true might.

But I would not falter.

The setback would not break me, it would only serve to strengthen my resolve.

I had devoted my life to the cause, orchestrating Hydra's rise to power with meticulous precision. Our vision would not be derailed by a momentary defeat. No, it would be through adversity that we would emerge stronger, more resolute than ever before.

Hydra's grip on authority was slipping, and it was my responsibility to tighten the noose.

Turning my attention back to the ruins that lay before me, the shattered remains of our once-proud fortress, I acknowledged the steep price we had paid. It was time to rebuild and adapt to the changing landscape.

Hydra's influence would extend like a shadow, enveloping the world in our grasp, ensuring our dominance. The setback would only be a brief interlude in our inexorable march towards a new world order.

With unyielding determination, I stepped forward, striding through the debris with purpose. My mind raced with strategies and contingencies, a storm of thoughts and calculations.

The hunt for Crossbones and Captain America would not end until they were brought to justice, and Hydra's supremacy was firmly reestablished.

I am Alexander Pierce, the architect of Hydra's future, and I would stop at nothing to ensure our ascension. The world may have witnessed a momentary setback, but in the end, we would be victorious.

Hydra would rise again, stronger and more determined than ever before, and ready to unleash its true power upon the world and any that dared to defy its authority.

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

Washington D.C

City Streets

 

(Omniscient POV)

The sun began its descent, casting elongated shadows that stretched across the city streets of Washington D.C.

Steve Rogers found himself standing in a secluded alleyway, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a cautious intensity. The faint buzz of urban life echoed in the distance, a symphony of distant voices and car engines.

Moving swiftly, Steve approached an old payphone tucked away in the corner of the alley. With practiced precision, he dialed Natasha's number, his fingers tapping the worn buttons, each digit carrying a weight of urgency and necessity.

As he waited for the call to connect, Steve's senses remained heightened, acutely aware of any potential onlookers. The dimly lit alley offered a semblance of privacy, but the stakes were too high to let his guard down.

Finally, the connection was made, and Natasha's voice crackled through the receiver, brimming with suspicion. "Who is this?"

"It's me, Steve," he replied in a low, steady tone, his eyes darting back and forth, ensuring his covert conversation remained undetected.

There was a moment of silence, the crackling of the phone line the only sound between them. Steve held his breath, hoping for a favorable response.

"Rogers," Natasha's voice came through, cautious yet tinged with a hint of familiarity. "What do you want?"

Keeping his voice hushed, Steve pressed on, urgency lacing his words. "Natasha, we need to meet. I've uncovered something significant. It's about Project Insight."

A pause followed, as if Natasha was weighing her options, her shrewd mind assessing the potential risks. "Fine. There's an abandoned park on the outskirts of the city. Meet me there in thirty minutes, and make sure you're not followed."

Relief washed over Steve as he acknowledged the location, an isolated park that offered a sliver of respite from prying eyes.

Thirty minutes later, Steve found himself seated on a weathered bench within the desolate park. The flickering lampposts cast eerie shadows, dancing among the neglected vegetation. The air carried a subtle chill, a reminder of the heavy secrets they were about to discuss.

As Steve settled into his thoughts, his mind wandered back to Brock and his turbulent journey. He hoped the young man had found solace and safety in his newfound life. Brock's resilience had left a memorable mark on Steve, a testament to the human spirit's ability to triumph against all odds.

Lost in contemplation, Steve failed to notice Natasha's stealthy approach until her presence was almost tangible. The click of a gun being cocked snapped him out of his reverie, and he slowly turned to face her, his hands raised in surrender.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood, Rogers," Natasha's voice cut through the air, firm and unwavering. "Now, answer me honestly...did you have anything to do with Fury's death?"

Steve's heart sank at the accusatory tone, but he maintained his composure.

Meeting her gaze, he spoke with a mix of determination and sincerity. "No, Nat, I swear I didn't. Fury was my friend, and I'm just as determined as you to find out who's responsible."

The tension hung in the air as Natasha scrutinized him, her grip on the gun slightly loosening.

"And Crossbones?" She probed, skepticism lacing her voice. "What's your connection with him? I heard how you two escaped from the Triskelion together."

Steve's mind raced, carefully selecting his words. He chose not to disclose the full extent of his connection with Brock, opting for a more cautious approach. "Our paths crossed during the chaos, and he decided to lend a hand. I can't divulge more at the moment, but I assure you, he poses no threat."

Natasha's piercing gaze continued to search for any cracks in his resolve, any hints of deception. The weight of their shared history and the imminent danger they faced hung heavily between them.

After a pregnant pause, she slowly lowered her gun, her features softening, though remnants of suspicion lingered. "Alright, Rogers. Let's hear what you have to say about Project Insight."

Steve took a deep breath, urgency lacing every word. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has been infiltrated, Natasha. Hydra has manipulated us from within, and Project Insight is just the beginning. We need to expose the traitors, uncover their web of deceit, and put an end to their evil plans."

A cocktail of anger and frustration swirled within Natasha's gaze as she processed the information, her mind piecing together the puzzling events of late.

"Hydra within S.H.I.E.L.D.," she muttered, her voice tinged with a mix of confusion and realization. "So that's what's been going on..."

Locked in each other's gaze, the weight of their shared mission bore down upon them. Steve and Natasha were soldiers, warriors in a battle against corruption and malevolence. Yet, a lingering doubt loomed, an unspoken question of loyalty and betrayal that hung like a shadow between them.

"Nat, are you a part of this conspiracy?" Steve inquired, his voice laced with concern and a glimmer of hope.

Natasha's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing, but traces of vulnerability flickered within. "How do I know you're not involved, Rogers? How can I be certain you're not working for Hydra?"

Steve's voice carried a note of frustration, mingled with unwavering conviction.

"You know me, Natasha. You know what I stand for. I've fought for what's right from day one, and I won't let Hydra tear down everything we've built. Trust is more crucial now than ever before."

A flicker of doubt passed through Natasha's eyes, her gaze softening slightly. "Alright, Cap. For now, we'll work together. But if I find out you're lying or playing me, there will be consequences."

Steve nodded, a solemn understanding passing between them. "I wouldn't expect anything less, Nat."

Steve's resolute voice cut through the tension, his determination unwavering.

With a nod of agreement, Natasha set aside her lingering doubts, recognizing the urgency of the situation.

"So...let's get started," she replied, her voice firm and resolute. "Time is of the essence, and we can't afford to waste anymore."

Together, they moved away from the dimly lit park, their steps purposeful and synchronized.

Their shared mission had brought them back together, uniting them against a common enemy. The city streets of Washington D.C. stretched before them, a labyrinth of possibilities and dangers.

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

Hovercar

Few Miles Outside Virginia

 

(Omniscient POV)

Meanwhile, in the airspace above the rural expanse of Virginia, the sleek hovercar sliced through the open skies, its engines humming with power. The wind whipped through its aerodynamic design, creating a symphony of whistling gusts.

Inside the vehicle, Brock confidently occupied the pilot's seat, his hands steady on the controls as he deftly maneuvered through the billowing clouds. Ava sat beside him, her eyes flickering with dark excitement, while Zeru, his youthful enthusiasm uncontainable, occupied the backseat.

As the hovercar continued its seamless journey, the trio enveloped themselves in silence, the hum of the engines providing a rhythmic backdrop.

Unable to contain his bubbling excitement any longer, Zeru leaned forward, his voice brimming with anticipation, his voice laced with eagerness.

"Boss, where exactly are we headed?" he asked, unable to conceal his curiosity.

Brock glanced at Zeru through the rearview mirror, a faint smile dancing at the corners of his lips. His eyes, focused on the expansive horizon, held a sense of purpose.

"We're headed for Canada," he replied casually, his voice carrying a hint of mystery.

Zeru's eyes widened with intrigue, his interest piqued. "Why Canada? What's so important there?" he inquired, his voice tinged with excitement.

Brock's expression turned contemplative as he pondered his response.

"Before I joined S.H.I.E.L.D or started my involvement with Hydra, I underwent their merciless training at the academy," He began, his voice laced with a casual tone that belied the brutal nature of his past. "It was a place where they molded impressionable minds to serve their cause."

Brock delved into the memories of his rigorous training, recounting the brutal challenges he endured—the relentless drills, the physical and mental tests of endurance.

He spoke of the sacrifices he made and the obstacles he faced, all in the pursuit of becoming a weapon, a pawn for Hydra's schemes.

Ava and Zeru listened intently, their eyes reflecting a shared understanding.

Each of them had faced their own trials, their own battles against a world that had cast them aside. Brock's tale resonated with their own experiences of overcoming adversity.

Silence enveloped the hovercar, a shared understanding settling upon the trio like a shroud. In that moment, a sense of kinship formed—an unspoken camaraderie forged through resilience and survival.

Beyond the panoramic windows, the landscape underwent a gradual transformation. The familiar sights of Virginia yielded to sprawling forests and glistening bodies of water. The changing scenery whispered that they were now traversing Minnesota, drawing ever closer to the Canadian border.

A surge of excitement surged through their veins, intertwining with their growing camaraderie. The hovercar glided closer to the border, inching with each passing mile, anticipation building like a coiled spring.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the land, the atmosphere within the vehicle shifted.

The thrill of the journey merged with an intensified sense of unity. Brock's story had illuminated the common thread that bound them—a shared resilience, a collective strength forged in the crucible of hardship.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the landscape, the hovercar crossed into Canadian airspace. Below, the dim lights of towns and cities twinkled like small stars in the dusk sky.

Ava's eyes sparked with a wicked glimmer as she turned to Brock, her voice laced with dark amusement.

"So, this little expedition of ours... I'm guessing it's more than a sightseeing trip?" She remarked, a hint of mischief evident in her tone.

Brock's lips curled into a sly grin, his gaze revealing a mischievous intent.

"You catch on fast, Ava," he replied, his voice dripping with a sarcastic undertone. "We're going to settle some unfinished business."

Ava's excitement morphed into a playful smirk, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Ah, murder and mayhem. Sounds like my kind of family trip."

Ava's words hung in the air, their weight sinking into the minds of those present.

They were a unique family, forged not by blood or friendship, but by their shared desires and their willingness to embrace their darkest impulses. The realization settled within them, strengthening the bond that held them together.

Ava and Zeru exchanged glances, their silent understanding reverberating between them.

They knew this journey wasn't about redemption or new beginnings—it was about Brock exacting his vengeance upon his old enemies.

The road ahead shrouded in darkness only stoked their hunger for power and control. They were a band of misfits, united by their wickedness, prepared to unleash their wrath upon an unsuspecting world.

As the hovercar continued its relentless trajectory, the trio embraced the sinister thrill of their mission. The landscape blurred beneath them, and they reveled in the knowledge that their actions would send shockwaves through the world.

Together, they formed an unstoppable force, propelled by their shared pasts and their twisted sense of kinship.

Canada awaited their arrival, blissfully unaware of the storm that was about to descend upon its peaceful lands.

***********

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.