Monster

Two

Whatever was left of the triskelion was in shambles. I managed to make it through the interrogation process for the simple fact that I was a level one agent, openly fought against Hydra with a sparkly pink knife and had a history with Colonel Talbot of US Special Forces. I’d been cleared quickly, though I wasn’t convinced they weren’t keeping an eye on me just to be sure.

After the fall of SHIELD, I was having a difficult time finding another job. Tony Stark offered me a position almost immediately after the event, and I’d considered it a great deal. But I wasn’t ready to leave my life in DC just yet, and I wasn’t sold on the idea of having a job given to me out of charity. Accepting Stark’s position would mean I’d have to move to New York. I’d have to live close to my sister again, and I didn’t want Clara to see the way I was struggling just to keep my head up.

I still had a mortgage to pay, though, and a car. And even though the triskelion was swarmed with military personnel and construction crews, I decided to go back for what was left of my belongings anyway. If only because I needed the laptop to find a new job. At least that’s what I told myself when I got the idea to go back.

The front courtyard was empty when I walked through it. I remembered the way the sunlight used to sparkle through the glass ceiling and the place would be crawling with agents and office personnel. It felt so lonely when the only other life forms were the birds that came in through the shattered ceiling.

There were two uniformed soldiers in the front lobby when I stepped in. I made a move for the blinking elevator bank, and one of them jumped forward to block my way. I was half a foot shorter than him, and he stood with his hand hovering over his gun as if he meant to intimidate me.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“To get my stuff,” I replied.

“What stuff? There’s nothing left. How’d you get cleared?”

I looked him straight in the eye. I was far from intimidated and running on an empty stomach. I hadn’t gotten much sleep, and the coffee only served to make me jittery and irritated. I’d waited long enough to go back for the things that rightly belonged to me, and I had nothing to hide. I may have done Hydra’s dirty work, but I hadn’t done it intentionally.

“I’m former agent Johanna Hayes. I’m also Special Forces and your superior. I’ve been cleared by Colonel Talbot personally, and I came to get my personal belongings. If that’s a problem for you, please give the Colonel a call. I’m sure he wants to know I picked up my family photos.”

He gave a huff and turned to his companion. The other guard appeared far less interested in me. He was lounging behind the security desk with his legs propped up on the top. He gave nothing but a shrug and didn’t bother to reopen his eyes after his initial once over. I didn’t find them intimidating, and they apparently felt the same way about me.

“Talbot already cleared her. Let her go. He’s too busy to care,” he said. The soldier turned back to me and stepped away.

“We’ll be watching you—Agent,” he said with a vaguely threatening tone. I held my head high and pushed passed him.

Even though I had a desk job and did nothing but paperwork all day long, my office had been hit hard. A great deal of the paperwork was compromised, and the government was scrambling to assemble everything and link whatever they could to Hydra. Papers had been scattered across the floors, and the office felt eerily silent.

I had to do a dance around the rubble and mess to get to my chair at the cubicle bank closest to the windows. Then I plopped down and looked over the courtyard below. I remembered sitting there the day Captain America crashed through the ceiling in the courtyard and managed to hop right back up onto his feet. It was the moment I began to suspect something big was going to happen. My hunch was right. And now I was out of a job and had less to look forward to than I usually did.

I took another sip of my coffee and got to work emptying drawers and tossing useless files and paperwork onto the floor. I dug through my desk and sorted out what belonged to me and what didn’t, what I wanted to keep, and what I didn’t care about.

Two more soldiers came around and questioned me, but quickly determined I posed no threat and let me get back to work. I had my hands in the bottom drawer of my desk when the phone in my pocket began to buzz. So I pulled it out and looked down at the text from an unknown number.

“Agent Hayes, this is Commander Hill. I have a mission for you,” the text said. I looked up to see if the soldiers were still watching me, but they were distracted by a conversation now and no longer seemed to care that I was there.

I'd seen Hill several times during my employment with SHIELD, but I’d never formally met her. The woman always appeared cold and indifferent, and I was so low on the SHIELD hierarchy that we never had a reason to meet. But there was no more SHIELD, so my curiosity was piqued.

“I’m listening,” I texted back. Hill’s response came just a second later.

“Meet me in the basement in interrogation room four. Take the stairs, don’t use your badge.”

“I’ll be right there.”

My phone went silent again. I stood and swept a strand of light brown hair out of my face. I didn’t know what Hill could want from me, but Hill knew I was in the building and still referred to me as an agent even though I was unemployed. So I lifted my now heavy bag and swung it back over my shoulder to leave.

I never had a reason to go to the interrogation rooms before. I’d done tours of the buildings several times, but my job was easy, and the doors to the interrogation rooms were set to deny my access. Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about it. When I left the stairwell, I found a man standing in the hall waiting for me.

“Hayes,” he said when I approached. I nodded to him, recognizing him from the battle against Hydra.

“Wilson,” I replied.

He held the door open to let me into the hallway and then I followed him down the windowless corridor until he reached interrogation room four. He gave the door a quick tap with his knuckles and pushed it open. I nearly tripped over my feet when I saw the group waiting for me inside. Agent Hill stood at the end of a single aluminum table, Agent Romanoff sat in a chair beside her, and Captain Rogers occupied the space on her other side. I felt almost like a lamb being led into a wolf’s den.

“Have a seat,” Hill instructed. Wilson closed the door, and I sat down across from Rogers.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I set my bag down against a table leg.

“We had a few questions for you.”

“I’ve already been interrogated by Special Forces. Was there something wrong with the investigation?”

“No, we were just curious about how you got cleared so fast.”

“I got cleared because there was nothing on me. I was a level one agent. I never did anything beyond filing papers. I had no access to Project Insight or Hydra databases.”

“Are you working for Talbot now?”

“I’m not working for anyone. I’m jobless, remember?”

“Stark didn’t offer you a job?”

“Of course he did. I didn’t accept.”

“Why not?” I looked back at Hill and narrowed my eyes. Even if Hill was interrogating me, I didn’t think she deserved that right. Hill worked for Stark now, as far as I knew, and if Stark wanted to know something, all he had to do was call.

“Last I checked I didn’t work for you. If this is another interrogation, then let me call my lawyer before you ask any more questions. Also, it helps just to be straight with me. I’m usually more compliant that way. I’m not, and never was Hydra. My reason for not accepting Stark’s offer is my business.”

“This isn’t an interrogation. It’s an interview,” Rogers said from across the table.

I looked up to meet his bright blue eyes. He was dressed like a civilian but looked tense and ready to jump into action at the first sign of trouble. He still had healing wounds and bruises on his face. He looked exhausted and uncomfortable in the confined room.

“Interview for what?” I asked. Then Hill slapped a manila folder down on the metal table in front of me. “I don’t speak Russian.”

“I’ve included translations. Open it,” Hill said.

I opened the file and looked at the first page. A large photo was attached to the inside cover. The image of a man with his eyes closed was frosted behind glass. There was a second photo attached to the file by a paperclip. This time it showed a man in an old military uniform. I ran my fingers over the glossy print and removed it from the paperclip.

“Sergeant James Barnes,” I said, reading the name on the translations.

“Bucky,” Rogers informed me. “I always called him Bucky.”

“He’s also known as the Winter Soldier,” Romanoff explained from the other end of the table. I cut my eyes to the woman slouched in the next chair.

“The Winter Soldier?” I repeated out loud. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place the memory.

“The Winter Soldier is a person, and if you accept this job, he’s also going to pay your bills.” My eyes widened, and I looked back at the woman with confusion.

“What do you want me to do? Find him?”

“No,” Rogers said. “He’s going to be impossible to find. And he’s not—himself. He doesn’t know who he is. Your mission won’t be to find him because you won’t succeed. Your mission would be to help me bring him out of the shadows.”

I never thought I’d see the day when someone like Captain America would ask my help for anything. Not when he had friends like Romanoff, Wilson, and Hill at his side. Or his gang of super buddies. I was good at my job, but I had no particular talents. I was good at flinging knives at targets. I could stitch a wound with speed and accuracy. But I wasn’t a killer. I couldn’t even pull a trigger. My only claim to fame was that I was on a first name basis with Tony Stark. And even that wasn't by my own doing.

“James Barnes has undergone decades of brainwashing,” Romanoff explained as she stretched her arms across the table. “Born in 1917 in Indiana. Father was a soldier. He and Rogers grew up together in Brooklyn. Captured by Hydra in World War Two while on active duty in the 107th. Rogers rescued him from a Hydra facility, and he was a co-founder of the Howling Commandos. He was believed to be the only Commando to die in service. Until he resurfaced as the Winter Soldier.

“He’s had a hand in numerous assassinations stretching back decades. Including the recent events over DC. When Rogers rescued him, they’d been experimenting on him. Whatever they did to him is likely similar to what was done to Rogers. This allowed him to survive a fall from a high altitude. But he’s been manipulated by Hydra. He has a bionic metal arm. He’s dangerous on a good day. But now he’s probably confused on top of all that. Now that Hydra has been dismantled, he’s gone AWOL.

“No one knows where he is or how to flush him out of hiding. We do know that he’s now aware of his connection to Steve, and we think it’s a possibility he might come back around to gather more information. We’re hoping he goes to Rogers first.”

“So what does that have to do with me?” I asked her. Romanoff gave me a quick once-over as if coming to a conclusion about something. But whatever she was thinking, she kept to herself.

“We need to create an environment that allows Barnes to reach out to Rogers. Barnes is a soldier, an assassin. He’s like a ghost. And we think he’s going to tail Rogers before he makes a move. He’s not going to show himself if Steve is surrounded by government officials. So we need to set up a safe place. Somewhere Steve can regularly visit that Barnes won’t have had prior knowledge of. Someplace with a very minimal amount of government surveillance.”

“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me.”

“Talbot doesn’t view you as a threat. And as long as he believes that, he’s not going to keep eyes on you. We need Steve to have a reason to visit our designated safe space on a regular basis. It has to be private and dark. So we thought a girlfriend would be the perfect cover. We can make your place seem welcoming and threat free so that Barnes will feel comfortable showing himself there. But we also wanted someone we could trust. Someone with a basic understanding of medical procedures and military strategy. At the very least, someone who could hold her own in a fight. If need be.”

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling in disbelief. “Against a super-soldier with a robotic limb?” I asked with an exasperated laugh. I ran my hands over my face. “You guys did read my files, didn’t you? You know I can’t shoot a gun. I’m barely over five feet tall. I don’t know what you think I’m capable of, but I can assure you I’m not what you’re looking for.”

“We don’t want you to have any weapons while under-cover. Barnes will sniff them out immediately. We can probably let you keep the cute knife though.” I dropped my head into my hands and rubbed the ache from my eyes. “Chances are Barnes isn’t going to show up if Steve isn’t there,” Romanoff continued. “But he’s not going to show himself at Steve’s apartment while he’s being watched. He’ll follow Steve to a safe place, and since Steve never goes anywhere, we figured a girlfriend was a good reason to get him out of the house. It’ll give him a place he can occasionally spend the night. It would be a place where he felt comfortable. Without government tabs or threats. Barnes will want to get in and out without being noticed.”

I opened my eyes and picked up the smaller photo again. “Why me?” I asked then. “Why not another cleared agent? Why not you or Agent 13 or even Hill?”

“Because your house fits the environment, you’re the right age, and you’re cute enough to make it believable. Talbot doesn’t have surveillance on you like he does the rest of us. No offense, Hill, but if Barnes took one look at her, he’d head right back in the other direction.”

“No offense taken,” Hill said.

“And he’s already seen me.”

“Great. Cute,” I said. “Like a bunny rabbit. I’m glad I’m useful for something.”

“You’re a Special Forces Combat Medic, Hayes. Hardly a bunny rabbit. You wouldn’t have been recruited otherwise.”

“So you’re recruiting me because I’m a bunny rabbit with blood on my hands?”

“Because you’re trustworthy and you have the skills and training required to do the job.” I picked up what Romanoff failed to say. I didn’t look like a threat. Barnes would take one look at me and know in a second that he could snap my neck with his pinky finger. And not even the metal one.

“As long as Barnes doesn’t feel threatened by you,” Romanoff continued, ignoring the insulted curl of my lip, “and your actions don’t become suspicious. Your life shouldn’t be in any danger. Just in case, you know what you have to do to get Barnes down without much assistance. Not a bunny rabbit. A soldier. Just in case, Stark agreed to help out too.”

“Stark is part of this?” I asked as a single eyebrow rose in further disbelief.

“Your sister convinced him.” I nodded slowly. That didn’t surprise me. They had to know I’d be there somehow. Unless I was hired by chance. But I didn't believe that. They knew too much for this to be a spur of the moment decision.

“So the plan is that we’re going to set you up with a false identity. Nothing too far from the real you, just in case Talbot gets wind of what we’re doing. The chances are high that Barnes won’t have access to personal records, but we don’t want to make Talbot suspicious by changing your entire identity. Not if we want to keep this quiet and keep Barnes out of government custody. Once we set up the environment and come up with a believable backstory, Steve will start to come around. We want you to act like a couple. Or at least act like you like each other enough for him to spend the night at your house. That way Barnes will think it’s safe to approach and you can alert Stark or us if the situation goes downhill.”

“And if I have to face him alone?”

“Lie. Build your story. We don’t think he’ll ask many questions. But you need to make him believe that you’re trustworthy.”

“And if he gets violent?”

“I heard you’re pretty good with knives.”

I was about to question her further when Rogers interrupted. “Don’t—try not to get violent,” he said. “Don’t kill him.” I turned back to him. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. They had more faith in me than I had in myself. “Please?” I nodded slowly.

“What if he tries to kill me first?” I asked.

“He won’t.”

“He won’t unless you give him a reason,” Romanoff assured me. “Barnes is a tactical thinker. If he’s not on a mission, he won’t risk drawing attention to himself by murdering an unarmed civilian. The only way he’d get violent with you is if he felt threatened by you. Keep him calm, and he won’t lash out. We set up precautions anyway. Stark sent us this prototype.”

She slipped a bracelet off her wrist and set it down on the metal table. It looked like a simple beaded bracelet, but Romanoff lifted one of the beads and showed me the raised design.

“Panic button,” she explained. “Stark offered to let us take it to help you with the mission. If you begin to believe your life is in danger all you have to do is press the button and Stark will have one of us at your door in less than five minutes. Whoever’s closest.” I reached across the table for the bracelet and located the single bead with the raised design.

“I’ll have to send Stark my thanks,” I said slowly. I turned back to Rogers. “So what do you think of this plan?” He held his hand under his chin and looked like someone who really deserved a nap.

“I think it could be dangerous,” he admitted. “But if it helps us get to him before anyone else I think it’s worth trying. I have a lot of faith that Bucky is still in there somewhere. I don’t want anything to get in the way of him reaching out to me.”

“How long are we doing this for?”

“As long as we can, or at least until you decide to back out,” Romanoff answered.

I kept my eyes on Rogers. He was the only one whose opinion I really wanted. Not just because of my military instincts, but also because the mission was deeply personal to him. The rest of them were there to locate a potential threat or help out a friend. If he wanted my help, I would give it.

“We’ll set you up with a new job as part of your backstory,” Romanoff continued. “Rogers will help make up the difference between your new job and your previous income.”

“Do you want me to help you, Captain?” I asked him. He waited a moment to study my face before answering.

“I can’t ask you to help. It could be dangerous,” he said.

“I’m not asking for you to give me an order. I want to know if you genuinely want my help.” He took a deep breath and gave a quick short nod. I dropped my head and looked down at the bracelet in my hands. Then I slid it onto my wrist. “I don’t do laundry,” I decided.