III: The Soldier and the Fairy Queen: Red Eve

XXII: Young Lady

The Soldier took deep breaths, ignoring the sharp jabs in her ribs when they pressed against her too-tight corset. Something about this felt very, very, extremely wrong. She shouldn't be doing this. This wasn't right. The woman's voice rang through her mind, "Capture the Winter Soldier."

Her throat itched as she stared at Mr. Hartsing, her flimsy interrogator. She stood, tearing through her bonds as if they were thread. The useless scraps of metal fell at her feet. The woman had told her that the undercover agents here would cut off the security cameras to ease the completion of the mission. That was all she had to do. Complete the mission and please the woman.

Mr. Hartsing stood up and backed up, his drawl just a smidge faster, "What do you think you're doing, young lady?"

The Soldier knew she hadn't been a 'young lady' in a long time. When she didn't answer, yet again, he turned and banged his fleshy fist against the steel door. She knew no one would come. The woman had said that the agents would clear the hallways of guards by causing a diversion on the other side of the building. The sliding door would open only for the Winter Soldier. A muffled explosion rocked the building. The Soldier's glass holding cell trembled.

Mr. Hartsing glanced back at her, then commenced yelling for someone to help him. The Soldier pressed against the door to her glass cage. It popped open with a loud clank. She stepped out of the cell and toward the man, keeping time with her own heartbeat. This was all she had to do. Complete the mission and please the woman. Disobeying would bring bad things upon herself.

She launched herself at Mr. Hartsing, ignoring his pleas and the sinking feeling in her chest. She grabbed his thick throat and squeezed, ignoring his flailing hands. If he had been trained to defend himself, that training was failing him now. The Soldier held him up against the wall for a few moments after he stopped moving, avoiding looking at his face. She let him fall to the ground beside the door, her shoulder burning.

The way would be clear for the Winter Soldier.

The Soldier concealed herself on the other side of the door, just in time to hear it slide open. She controlled her breathing and studied the man. He looked to his left and his right. "Sunny?" His brown hair hung below his chin and his left arm was missing. His shoulder was there, but she couldn't see it. It was covered with a long sleeve that he'd pinned up. He walked with his shoulders leading the rest of his body in a confused swagger.

The Soldier waited patiently until he was standing in front of the open door of the glass cell. This was all she had to do. Complete the mission and please the woman. She barrelled forward and pushed the Winter Soldier into the cell, slamming the door shut. She pressed her hand against the lock, bending it back into place.

The Winter Soldier rapped his knuckles against the glass, "Hey! Sunny! Let me out!"

Her shoulder burned. The Soldier looked him dead in the eye, "Toska. Rzhavyy." She had to keep her voice measured and soft, but loud enough for him to hear. She'd learned the hard way that her throat would bleed if she spoke too loudly.

The Winter Soldier's face paled, his child-like blue eyes widening with fear, "No! No, no, no! Don't do it! Sunny, you have to fight it!"

The Soldier frowned. Fight against what? There was nothing to fight against. She had to complete the mission, then the woman would be happy. She pushed his words out of her mind. No, he was trying to distract her. "Semnadtsat'. Rassvet."

The Winter Soldier picked up one of the restraints she'd broken through from the floor. He gripped it in his hand and threw it against the glass. "Sunny, come on! You have to try! Fight!"

Why did he keep calling her that? Sunny. It sounded weak. And soft. Unlike her. She was blood and steel, and the bruises and stitches all over her body attested to it. "Pech'. Devyat'."

"Stop! Stop! Sunny, try harder! You don't want to do this!" The Winter Soldier leaned against the door, obviously trying with all his might to open it. He was trembling.

No. She was done with this. She was the Summer Soldier, an assassin and tool. Her purpose was to complete her missions with efficiency and to please her handlers. "Dobrokachestvennyy. Vozvrashcheniye domoy."

The door whined, but nothing happened. The Winter Soldier snarled in frustration. She saw his pupils dialate. He backed up and rammed into the door. "No, no, no, no, no, no," he said shakily, as if to himself. He raised his voice, "Sunny, they're using you! Don't let them win!"

They were using her. She knew that. That's what she was there for. "Odin."

The Winter Soldier crashed to the floor of the cell, holding his head with his hand. He whined and gasped, "G**, no. Please, no."

Beads of water collected at the corners of her eyes. Her arm burned like fire. "Gruzovoy vagon."

The Winter Soldier shuddered. His hand was still holding his head.

The Soldier leaned down with her hands braced on her knees, trying to clear her eyes and slow her breathing. Doubts crept up in her mind. Was this right? Should she have done this? Acid rose up into her throat. She hacked into her elbow, and her sleeve came away bloody. She stared at it for a moment, then rose. Whatever had happened on the other side of the building, it wasn't going to keep them away for much longer.

She looked through the glass at the Winter Soldier. She jumped when she saw he was already looking at her. His eyes held the same expression she'd often seen in her own.

"Gotov podchinit'sya," he said, staring into her eyes. No doubt he was surprised when all he saw was a reflection.

To hear those words she'd uttered herself spoken to her... it gave her a thrill of power, charging her every cell. The Soldier pulled the lock and opened the door. "Come with me, Zima. We do not have much time."