Way We Go Down ｡ Natasha Romanoff

26 - HELP FROM A FALCON

The shadows were thick while one silent man waited in the darkness of an unfamiliar kitchen. He had snuck through the back sliding door, nobody noticing him slip through upperclass neighbourhood moments before hand. When a light finally flicked on, casting a luminous glow upon his face he sat forward in his chair. Alexander Pierce almost startled with seeing him and noticed the polished gun settled neatly on the dining table.

A high pitched foreign voice called out from the hallway, the moment being cut short. "I'm going to go, Mr. Pierce. Do you need anything before I leave?"

Alexander turned away from the Winter Solider, Bucky Barnes to reply to his housekeeper who was leaving for the night. That's when he noticed a second man standing in the shadows by the glass doors that overlooked the back porch. Moonlight touched his fair skin, his hair shaggy and long. He didn't even glance away from staring up at the sky, his mind numb with thought. Their true leader, somebody that worked for HYRDA cleared his throat. "No, Uh...it's fine, Renata, you can go home."

A mumbled reply came, the housekeeper grabbing her keys and leaving the house. Alexander Pierce motioned for the second soldier to take a seat but he didn't move from the windows. "Alright. Do any of you want some milk?" Alexander suggested, a hint of a joke in his voice. His eyes scanned the faces of two of his best assets. "Should I even ask for a mission report?"

Alec Thayer, who was not that same man as before, finally dragged his gaze away from the darkened sky. Inside his thick jacket, his hand was curled around a cellphone. He had received a phone call from a stranger earlier that day and the very thought still clouded his mind. The voice had sounded so familiar but he could not place it. There was something deep within his soul that had made him purchase a charm bracelet, place it upon a front porch and leave clues for somebody to follow him but he was not sure why. His actions were weirdly uncontrolled since he had landed in Washington, D.C. "There is no mission report, sir."

"Ah, yes." Alexander Pierce cruelly said, his eyes glued to the second Winter Soldier who had yet to get his hands dirty since landing in the country. "Maybe our mission would have been far more successful if you hadn't been missing. Where have you been, soldier?"

Bucky Barnes cleared his throat. "What's our orders, sir?"

The tension shifted, Alec rolling out his shoulders. Bucky was maybe the only familiar face he had seen in the pass four years and weirdly, that had grown as a slight comfort when they weren't placed in familiar ice or being tortured. "The timetable has moved, boys. Our window is limited. Two targets, level six."  Alexander Pierce poured himself a glass of milk, turning back to his brainwashed killers. "There are two teenagers with them. Do what must be done. They have already cost me Zola. I want confirmed deaths in ten hours."

No names were said out loud, each man knowing the targets in question already. That thought almost turned Alec Thayer's stomach and he was not entirely sure why. Suddenly, the front door jingled and the housekeeper returned, forgetting something. She paused in the doorway, seeing the three men. "Sorry, Mr. Pierce, I...I forgot my phone."

Alexander Pierce sighed loudly, his eyes closing for a second. He was already reaching for the gun set upon the table and was aiming it towards the woman without hesitation or warning. "Oh, Renata. I wish you would have knocked." The alarmingly loud trigger was pulled, the sound of the gunshot rocketing through the house. Nobody blinked. Nobody moved because death was not uncommon around them now and that was a harsh reality. 

***

The drive back to Washington, D.C was dreadful. Steve Rogers had kept his mind blank, his only focus on the road in front of him. He did not want to think about what Zola had informed them about the truth. He did not want to think about his fight and how it had been for nothing apparently. Natasha Romanoff had stared out the window, watching the trees blur by. Her heartbeat had faded and the ash and dirt lined her skin was a cruel reminder that the organisation she had pledged her loyalty to was a lie. Samuel Hardings was trying his best to stay calm in the current situation. He had heard the great tales from battles his father had been involved in, but he his life had never been threatened like that before and that scared the hell out of him. Poppy Thayer had rested her head against the cold glass for the drive, hot tears running down her cheeks. She did not want to speak out loud in fear she might throw up. At some point, the boy beside her had rested his hand against her own and she hadn't pushed it away, actually a little thankful for the comfort.