Silver Death

Soldier Number Three

I sit watching him and he watches me. Steve notices my stillness after a few moments and ghosts over my neck before requesting to know who I am looking at. Turning my head slightly I reply "Do you see the man with brown hair, a black leather jacket a little like mine, and jeans."
"Yah, he seems to be looking at you, he must find you really interesting I guess."

I stand up and go to James "he's here."
He looks around with a confused expression "who is?"
"There was a third one. A third soldier, assassin, killer whatever you want to call him. He was in training when I got out. He's here."
He looks like he's panicking "Where?"
I stand up smile as big as I can and move to sit beside him "over my right shoulder."
He glances over it and looks back at me smiling "I see him. What's the plan?"
"He's probably a scout. There might be more agents here."
"Right. Find everyone and tell them what's going on. Make sure he doesn't leave."
"On it. You tell the people here, I'll find Tony, Nat, Bruce, and Clint. Tony will make some big announcement and say that we are going out in a mission and that everyone needs to leave. I'll get Nat to put a tracker on him. Be back later."

I stand up and start to wander through the crowd grabbing a kitchen knife from a platter as it passes me. If worse comes to worse I like having a knife with me.

I spot Tony, talking with Nat but to get to hem I either have to make a loop or go past the soldier. Past him it is.

I start walking towards him sliding my right hand into my pocket where the knife is, and when I get beside him he reaches his arm around me.

"Silver Death, you are much over due back to the base."
"Actually I'm not going back. So if you will excuse me." I start to walk again
"You don't understand. You are coming with me or your loved ones get it." He raises his hand and snaps his fingers twice. Agents come through the doors with guns pressed to their shoulders ready to shoot. People start screaming and running creating a havoc that we don't need. This is not how my plan was to go. "Now."
"Pull the agents out first. Then I will come, but not until."

He puts the hand that's not holding me to his ear "вытащите их. Она идет." (Pull them out. She's coming.)
"невольно я могу добавить" (not willingly might I add)
"Это не имеет значения. Ты все еще приедешь." (It does not matter. You are still coming.)

The agents start to filter out slowly with their guns up. Only nine remain, one per Avenger, who all had been knocked unconscious . "Someone better have gotten my katanas. Other wise I'm going to be pissed."
"Don't worry. We have had an agent here for weeks. About the same time that your team arrived back."
"They are not my team. They are my friends."

He laughs and hits me over the head with a baton, knocking me out. I need to stop falling unconscious, I've been doing it much to often lately.

When I wake up I'm on a private plane. Handcuffed and the doctor that tortured and experimented on me sitting across from me reading a file "you know when you left us I was hurt. I assumed that you would have came back to us. To me."
"No, I kinda liked the freedom of not being turned into a mindless killer." Looking around for a second to see that there are three agents in the jet with us plus the pilot and copilot-one standing at the back where the bathrooms are, one standing beside me and the third at the entrance of the cockpit- and then looking towards Dr. Anatoly "monster is actually a much better word."
"I assume that you dislike what I helped you become?"
"More like made me into."
"Well my dear-"
Leaning forward as far as my bonds allow me to with drawing blood from my wrists "If you are to call me anything, it will be the name Silver."
"As you wish Silver. Now as I was saying; all I did was help you reach your full potential, a potential of an assassin."
"No, what you did was murder my mother and kidnap me. How long until we land?"
"We will be arriving soon, about a half hour."
The flight alone would take nine hours plus the time to get to the airport from the tower would add to the time from when I was knocked out and to go through costumes and what not to about eleven hours. "How long was I out?"
"About ten hours."