Gathered in a room inside of a safehouse, Steve rogers, Sam wilson, Natasha romanov and myself discuss the capture of the “winter soldier”.
I’ve intergrated myself into S.H.I.E.L.D’s network, and the small circle of the Captain’s. Having the gift of compulsion, I can temporarily persuade anyone to comply with my wishes or do my bidding. A convenient skill for my line of work.
“He’s killed Fury, and im guessing that we’re on the list for termination also.” Says Sam, taking a seat he props his feet up on the table.
“Anyone besides me, who’s not opposed to our using the buddy system?” I ask.
“I can keep you safe.” Says, Sam with a wink.
“Can we stay on topic?” States the Captain. I’ve never seen him so irritated. He’s found out who the”winter solider” is, and not only has he been distant, but when in the company of others, he’s no longer meek and docile, but a snappish tyrant.
He’s generally sweet, a gentleman, but too upright and patriotic for my taste. My mission is to garner information through the Captain, to locate James so that I can get close to him. Per my orders, i’m to be a glorified man-sitter, never have I ever.
So here I stand in the midst of my enemies, S.H.I.E.L.D’s fun dummies. They know nothing of Hydra’s operations inside of S.H.I.E.L.D, but being ignorant does not grant one immunity. They work for S.H.I.E.L.D, and are guilty by association.
“Fury”. Says a startled Natasha, as he enters the room. His gaze falls on me, and i’m quick to go for my gun.
“Libertine!” Is the only word that’s uttered from his mouth, as my guns are trained on him and Romanov. She’s quick to the draw also, but not quick enough.
“Uh, uh... drop it, or daddy dearest gets it between the eyes. I say.
“What’s going on?” Inquires the captain alarmed.
Looking from Fury to me, and then back to Fury, he nods his head in compliance. Her gun still aimed at me, I turn my aim from her to the Captain.
“Sorry “Cap”, it’s nothing personal... just business is all.” I say, my gaze still on Romanov. Reluctantly she withdraws her weapon. “Good, now that I have everyone’s attention...”
“What do you want traitor?” In a second, my anger goes from zero to one hundred, and I fire a warning shot at Fury. The Captain goes for my gun, taking it from me in one smooth move. Swiftly manuvering myself around him, I bring him down with a kick to the back of his knees.
Sam’s on his feet, and a bullet grazing his ear quickly reseats him. “Don’t let her touch you!” Yells Fury, too late. My hand on his neck, his hands grasping mines goes limp. “Don’t...” I say, warning Romanov from an attempt at going for her gun again.
The Captain’s physically and mentally strong, fighting my compulsion attack. “It’s best to just give in, I don’t want to scramble your mind. You’re too gorgeous to become a human vegetable.” His eyes going dull I have him, but hold on longer just for good measure.
“Somebody want to explain whats going on?” Asks Sam. “Stand.” I direct Steve, and he does with my hand still attached to his neck. I should have left him on his knees. “Paloma Fury, a member of the “order of the libertines”. Says Fury.
“Paloma Fury, as in Nick Fury?” Inquires Sam. “Yes, my daughter an embarrassment to her father and her country.”
“You’re the shame that I carry, it’s a good thing that Ava no longer has to.”
“You don’t get to say her name, you don’t have that right.” He states angrily.
“Im sorry.” Says Sam coming to his feet. “I don’t mean to interrupt this touching family moment, but um... whats the “order of the libertines” and what do they want?”
“A gang of murderers.” States Fury.
“An order of freethinkers and liberators.” I counter.
“They’re assassins, killing anyone that they perceive as a threat.” Adds Romanov.
“The “order’s” for the people, we protect their interests and rights. I state proudly.
“Where was the right in killing your mother?” His question hits home, and I let my guard down for just a second. I’ve maintained that she was responsible for the decisions that she made, that led up to her death.
He didn’t listen, I warned them both when the order was issued for their deaths. “I didn’t kill her, you did.”
“Hmm... but the question remains, what do you want?” He says, taking a seat.
“James Buchanan Barnes.” I say.
“Don’t we all.” He retorts.