Nearly Morning {A Captain America Story}

Chapter Twenty-Three

{Chapter Twenty-Three}

Side note: any feedback or advice you have is greatly appreciated and encouraged.

--

AGENT ROMANOFF.

LOCATION: MISSILE LAUNCH FACILITY. LONG ISLAND, NY.
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Stepping foot onto the tarmac surrounding the gates of Stark's missile factory, I slip past the first security checkpoint. Avoiding the cameras that scan the entrance, I hug the wall until I reach the keypad at the door.

Gritting my teeth, I look around to see if anyone is watching.

I pull out the map Stark gave me from the back of my belt, scanning the paper for any secret entrance to the building. Nothing.

Folding the paper in frustration, my eyes flicker over the small numbers scrawled on the back of the map.

Of course, I roll my eyes to myself.

Punching in the numbers on the keypad, the automatic security doors buzz open.

The hallway wasn't long and there was no telling what was on the other end. In my fast pace, I halt suddenly to a stop and retrace my steps to a door I had just passed labelled 'UTILITY SUPPLIES'.

Jiggling the handle, I find the door is unlocked.

As I enter the room, I quietly shut the door behind me, clicking in the lock as quietly as I can, still cringing as it echoes in the clinical hum of near-silence.

The room was no bigger than a closet, encased with racks of lab coats, googles and other safety equipment one may need when performing scientific experiments, I suspect.

Grabbing a white coat off the rack, I slip it over my suit and tie my hair back. On the small shelf that lined the far wall underneath the coats, I picked up a clipboard and safety glasses.

Checking myself up and down with satisfaction, I unlock the door and exit through, composing myself momentarily, before beginning to purposefully walk down the hall.

Ducking into labs and weaving in and out of various rooms, my paranoia starts to kick in as my patience is tested.

Where could the damn thing be?
Bumping into another white-coated arm, I mumble an apology.

The woman grumbles under her breath then inspects me with her judgmental stare.

Scrunching my expression, I give her a shrug and turn to walk in the other direction.

"Hey weren't you going this way?" She sneered accusingly.

Pausing, I turn to her slowly with an almost sincere smile, my lips pushed together tightly in a faint pout.

"Of course" I say to her sweetly, and then walking in the right direction.

I could hear her mutter disapprovingly, but I didn't have time to linger for long.

As soon as I was far enough away from this woman, who was still watching from behind, I turned and entered an open door on the right.

Glancing around the room, I found I was in a containment zone filled with missiles piled in rows that stretched to the far end of the room.

My eyes were met by a bearded man with faded grey hair standing in front of me.

"You must be here to take inventory?" He offered me with a relieved expression.

"Uh, yes that's me" I nodded quickly, "sorry it took me so long to get here."

"Ah, no worries. Now if you will just follow me, I tell you where we shall start." He spoke as he led me down the farthest row to the left. Past lines of different sized and shaped missiles all labelled in large grey print STARK INDUSTRIES.