In the 21st century, The Soldier went rogue, HYDRA fell, but the files of the assassin still remained. The deaths were too big for SHIELD to let it simply go.
Apparently, the Avengers had no idea there were more than two people lost in time.
It wou...
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It was brief and the words were not sincere enough, William realised that these people weren't that close to John at all. They were just people from care home, some nurses and caretakers.
No family members had stood to give a short speech. Because John's family hadn't attended. William had gritted his teeth, nearly standing up himself to tell something, anything, to honour the veteran.
Four men had carried the closed casket out, being followed by the flood of nurses and elders alike. Everyone followed them out, even the woman who had entered the church hours before.
"The target may blend in with the crowd outside, stay alert, everyone." it was the same static female voice he had heard earlier, the woman clad in black.
"Copy, I'll stay in position." the man replied, peering down from the balcony, watching as the last people left.
Silently, William stood up and stepped over the man. Noticing the shadow, the agent tried to turn but Will was faster, his right hand snaked around the mans neck, while the left kept his head locked in a firm grip. His grip was strong yet loose enough for little air to still ecape through, just barely. Though his lack of panic was a dead giveaway that this man was a well trained agent, not some rookie that agencies sometimes sent out.
"Stop. Chasing me!" William whispered furiously into his ear before slamming his face into the stone floor with a loud crack. The collision made him unconscious immediately, his body going limp as blood started flowing from his broken nose. William grabbed his sniper, swinging the sling over his shoulder as he skimmed through his pockets, grabbing the knives he found there. He looked at the bow and arrows weirdly. He took the arrows and broke them, scattering them on the floor before repeating the action with the bow, making sure they were unusable.
He made his way down the dark staircase, eyes wide and ears pricked for every smallest of sounds that could indicate someone elses presence. For precautions, he covered half of his face with already familiar dark scarf, leaving only the eyes out.
There was no doubt in his heart that the place was surrounded by agents. That's why he wasn't going to use neither exits, he was, most likely, going to be met with the barrel of a gun as soon as he dared to take a step outside.
He made his way through the aisles, eyes feverishly looking left and right.
Nothing.
He knew the longer he searched the smaller his chances of getting away unnoticed would be. He skimmed the enormous rooms, breaking the locks if the doors were closed, asking forgiveness every time he did so.
He wasn't a religious man, but that didn't mean he had to be disrespectful about it.
He noticed it, finally. Round drainage grate, it was old and heavy, but his only way out. He dropped down, swinging the sniper over his shoulder instead of gripping it in his hands. He curled his fingers around the drainage crate, muscles coiling as he pulled it open from it's snug hole. The ground around it cracked as it finally came loose, the drop down was merely around seven feet, if not a little more.
