The New Fist Of Hydra ☆ Avengers

AWAKE

Brock Rumlow makes his way down the stone walled halls, his Crossbones uniform on, only lacking the mask.

Most would think him dead. The man who blew himself up. However, he was never one to remain dead. Escaping death was a specialty of his, and he had managed to succeed in it yet again.

As the leader of a dying organization, it fell into his hands to ensure that he didn't allow it to fail as prior leaders did. Peirce, Zola, Zemo. All had failed to keep the Hydra flame burning, and though he had decided to be a sole terrorist, Rumlow could not turn down this opportunity.

So as he walks into the dark, large lab room, scientists and guards cower in his presence. He soaks in the power, a sadistic look in his dark eyes as he approaches the head scientist.

"M-Mr. Rumlow," The scientist begins.

"Crossbones," Rumlow corrects, giving him a venomous look. The scientist swallows down his fear and continues.

"Crossbones. Are you completely positive you want to carry out with this?"

"Sorry, maybe I wasn't clear," Rumlow grits, snatching the man by his neck and lifting him a few inches off the ground. The Russian scientist's hands fly to his neck, green eyes bulging out by lack of air. "I want that girl awake, and under my control."

He lets go of the scientist, the man tumbling to the ground and gasping for air.

"O-Of course, Crossbones. However, I believe you may have misunderstood my question," The scientist stands up shakily, giving his leader a weary look. "Are you sure you don't want to wipe her memories?"

"We saw what that did to Barnes. I think emplanting her mind with Hydra ideas should be more than enough," He replies, looking up at the glass containment, fogged up by cold smoke.

"Very well, sir," The scientist nods. The two of them, along with three more scientists and a trained agent, travel a few feet to behind a glass wall, secured away from the containment. As the Russian plugs in the codes onto the keyboard, he murmurs, "Hail Hydra."

"Hail Hydra," Rumlow repeats, a smirk on his lips as the containment creaks open. Icy smoke flies out in large puffs, filling the room in the white mist. As the glass door opens, no one dares to move, their eyes glued to the figure inside.

A seemingly fifteen year old, but, in reality, almost eighty five years of age. Her tanned olive skin remains a sickly pale color, dusty brown hair pressed against the walls like a halo, stopping at her shoulders. Slowly, long, dark lashes flutter open to reveal pale blue eyes, full lips opening to take in a breath.

In agonisingly slow movement, Raina Barnes makes a steady step out of the containment, her left foot following shortly after. After briefly inspecting the black t-shirt with the Hydra symbol, and the loose black pants, she slowly meets the eyes of Rumlow, tilting her head slightly to get a better look. Her brown waves flutter lightly, brushing against her shoulder at where they sit.

"Who are you?" She asks, her voice sending chills down the spine of two of the scientists. The voice of a merciless assassin; the voice a girl stripped away of her childhood and innocence.

Rumlow smiles, opening the glass wall separating them and taking a step inside. A few scientists immediately attempt to stop him, but he ignores all the warnings, taking another step towards Raina. Her first instinct is to attack, but she stops herself once witnessing the Hydra symbol on his chest.

"My name is Brock Rumlow, the head of Hydra," He explains. "Last time you were awake, I wasn't even a part of this organization. Now, I lead it."

"What year is it?" Raina questions quietly, frowning at the new computers in front of her.