chapter 6

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4:30 pm

Eleanor was jittery and stressed. Her door was locked and her blinds shut. Just an hour ago she found out that someone was going to use her as some weird therapist for a literal murderer. A fucking mass murderer at that.

And now, she was locking herself in her office watching time tick away until 5 o'clock rolled around and she could leave. She had saved all the documents that were sent to her on a USB stick which was tied around her neck and no one was going to get it.

She had no idea why she was given this information but she knew deep down that it was dangerous for it to be in the wrong hands. She found herself pacing around the room like a crazed animal trapped in a cage. Normally moving would calm her but now it only brought more tension and paranoia.

Suddenly, a soft knock could be heard from the door. El jumped and immediately cowered from the sudden noise in an attempt to make it go away.

"Miss Thompson? Can you open the door, I need to speak with you."

The voice was stern and unfamiliar which immediately made alarms blare in Eleanor's head. Also, this person knew her name and knew where she worked which made her want to cry. What if this was the guy that sent the email? Or what if it was the guy in the email?

"Let me in or I will have to take matters into my own hands." The voice said, almost threatening her. She was scared absolutely shitless and was in no way gonna let this person into her office.

Then, the wood began to creak and the hinges of the door groaned. And the door went flying across her office and crossed into the wall, shattering a meaningless photo in the process.

Eleanor's heart raced as the door splintered and crashed against the wall, revealing a stern-faced man standing in the doorway. He exuded an air of authority that instantly gave away his identity – Nick Fury. Her mind raced, trying to piece together why someone like Nick Fury would barge into her office, and what connection this could possibly have to the bizarre email she'd received.

Fury's eye fixated on her, and though he seemed like a formidable figure, there was something in his expression that suggested a deeper concern beyond the initial intimidation. He took a step forward, his gaze never leaving hers. "Miss Thompson, I don't have time for games. We need to talk."

Eleanor's heart pounded in her chest, torn between fear and curiosity. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

"I have my ways," Fury replied, his tone indicating that he wasn't about to reveal his methods. "You have something I need, and I'm not leaving until we discuss it."

Eleanor's hand instinctively clutched the USB stick around her neck, her mind racing to come up with a plan. But Fury seemed to read her thoughts. "I know what you're holding, Miss Thompson. That information is crucial to our mission, and I believe you have the expertise we need."

She hesitated, studying Fury's gaze for any hint of deception. The situation was far more complicated than she could've ever anticipated. "What do you want from me? And why would you think I can help?"

Fury's expression softened, if only slightly. "We have a situation, a man in dire need of help. His name is Bucky Barnes, and you might know him as the Winter Soldier."

Eleanor's eyes widened, shock and realization washing over her. She had heard whispers about the Winter Soldier, the tortured soul caught in a web of darkness and manipulation. And now Nick Fury was standing before her, asking for her expertise to help him?

"I've seen your credentials, Miss Thompson," Fury continued. "Your background in psychology makes you uniquely qualified to assist with Barnes' rehabilitation."

Eleanor felt the weight of the situation sinking in. The USB stick, the email, her locked office – it all led to this moment. She took a deep breath, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. "Why me? Why not someone with more experience?"

Fury's gaze hardened again. "Because, Miss Thompson, our intelligence suggests that Barnes' fractured mind requires a delicate touch. You're not tied to our organization, and that might just be what he needs."

Eleanor's thoughts were a whirlwind, and the gravity of the situation was undeniable. She had always wanted to make a difference with her psychology degree, but she had never imagined being thrust into something of this magnitude.

Fury extended a hand toward her, a hint of urgency in his voice. "Time is of the essence. Will you join us in this mission, Miss Thompson?"

Eleanor looked at his outstretched hand, then back at the shattered door and the USB stick around her neck. She took a deep breath and made a decision that would forever alter the course of her life. With a determined nod, she reached out and shook Fury's hand.

"I'll help, Mr. Fury. But under one condition – you have to promise me that we'll do everything we can to save Bucky Barnes, not just use him as a weapon or for the sake of a mission."

Fury's eye bore into hers, and for the first time, Eleanor saw a glimmer of approval. "You have my word, Miss Thompson. Welcome to Project: The Soldier."


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