shards - pietro maximoff

chapter thirteen ; enemies and explosions

(just a little a/n rq, the words in italics like this, are the russian translation)

The cold, desolate winter bit at any exposed skin, the sound of the howling wind muffling any noise a human could emit.

It was a good thing too, that the wind was working as a noise cancelling agent, because if it hadn't, nearby towns, villages, and anyone in a five mile radius would have heard the bloodcurdling screams of a man.

He had dark, dirty hair— probably a result of being imprisoned, in a way. His body was drenched in sweat, his breaths were heavy, and the screams were unlike any known to humankind.

The man was strapped into a chair, a mechanical device securing his head, stuck inside a cylindrical chamber that the scientists in the labratory desperately hoped could hold him.

His screams echoed around the chamber, but the other man, who was stranding in front of him with a book in hand, paid no mind. He ignored the painful yells and began to speak words in Russian, only encouraging the man's pained cries.

"Желание."

Longing.

"Ржавый."

Rusted.

"Семнадцать."

Seventeen.

"Рассвет."

Daybreak.

"Печь."

Furnace.

"Девять."

Nine.

"Добросердечный."

Benign.

"Возвращение на родину."

Homecoming.

"Один."

One.

"Грузовой вагон."

Freight Car.

The room went quiet, everyone tentatively looking at the silent man before them.

"Доброе утро, Солдат." The supervising agent looked down at the prisoner, murmuring a few words.

Good morning, Soldier.

It was silent for a moment more, almost as if the man was hesitating to say what was required of him. "Я готов отвечать."

Ready to comply.

•

"All right, what do you see?" Steve Roger's voice crackled through Natasha, Wanda, and Dahlia's earpieces.

Some of the team were out on a mission at the moment, and the three women were trying their best to blend into the town, wearing street clothes and sipping coffee at a local cafe. Well, Wanda and Natasha were drinking coffee. Dahlia, being an eternal child, had never liked the bitterness it held, and instead of the 'adult' drink, a hot chocolate with a mountain of whipped cream sat in front of her, accompanied by a glazed donut. The girl had a sweet tooth, that was for sure.

After about ten minutes of surveillance, the three reported back to Steve, trying to gather as much intel as they could from the quiet street.

"Sam, see that garbage truck? Tag it."

A small drone came into view, attaching itself to the bottom of a large green garbage truck that drove down the street next to them.