اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
IN CHESS, ZUGZWANG IS A SITUATION WHEN A PLAYER GETS A DISADVANTAGE because it's their turn to play, but all the available moves are bad. As the player, Olivia had two choices, stay in Hydra or to destroy it. Both carried severe repercussions that she wasn't sure she was ready to pay the price for.
Nevertheless, she chose the latter. Everything felt different once the truth was out. Bare in its ugliness, the compound was once her safe place on Earth. Now, it was a place with cells filled with the imprisoned. Their wails of cry would soon turn into silence. Their loss in faith would turn into hope. Hope for an opportunity to climb through the ranks, see the outside world, anywhere but this cell. Tricked to think that they were serving their nation through Hydra, that it was the only way out.
This made hope is a dangerous thing.
It was game day. The day this would all blow over. She could right her wrongs and takedown Hydra for good. It was finally time to make peace and stop humming the same sad song that was her life.
She took in one last look at her quarters, eyes sweeping over the undecorated interior. Everything in her room screamed order, never falling out of line, obedient.
You know what they say about all work and no play, it made Jill homicidal.
Olivia made it her last order of business to mess it all up.
✧
The mission alarm was activated thirty seconds ago. She climbed through a wormhole into the armoury room. Dressed in his usual combat suit, Winter only squinted his eyes in question of her new ability. He quietly stuffed magazines into compartments of his suit. No smiles or gestures.
Olivia took her place beside him, copying her partner's actions. Her eyes wandered to the small yellow and blue injuries on his temples. She sighed, knowing exactly what contributed to his coldness.
Whenever the Winter Soldier completed a mission successfully, he would be rewarded, often with food or not kept in cyrofreeze and they would always sneak out. With two masterful assassins, it was easy to slip past the heavily guarded facility. Before they were transferred from Siberia, the two would make it out just as the sun rose. Shivering in the cold and crisp air, they never felt so alive.
But when he failed, he would be wiped. There would be no relic of his memories, only the faint bruise on his temples as a cold reminder of his failure. This made him more deadly, because he would do anything to not be back in that chair.
He was scared.
Not anymore, because she was going to get them out.
"мы уходим," ("We're leaving") she mumbled while sharpening her knives and placed them in her waist belt.
"Что?" ("What?") He froze mid-action, almost dropping a mini tear gas grenade, but thank God for his insane reflexes.
"I got us an exfil plan. Cute flat in Bucharest, you'll love it. Shake them off and meet me afterwards. If I'm not there, you know what to do." She whispered in a hushed tone, holding his face in her hands, taking a moment to appreciate his steel blue eyes before landing a kiss on his cheeks.
