Immortal

Part 2 - Intercontinental

I spent my first few days and nights moving around and seemingly working my way towards the train line and the docks.  I stowed onto a train and hid in a carriage until I could smell the sea air and as we slowed down to switch tracks I jumped out and made my way to the docks.  I made myself as inconspicuous as possible and was sure to keep my arm well hidden; it was a bit of a give away who and what I was if it was seen.

I bartered my way onto a cargo ship that was leaving Hamburg the next day for Staten Island, New York. I'd be working my ass off to pay my way for 44 nights but at least I would be fed, watered and I'd have a bed to sleep in.  The rough seas didn't scare me; nothing scared me and I knew that made me indispensable to these men. Just like I had been to HYDRA at one point.

I switched clothes again but made sure my arm was never uncovered; the first two weeks were easy enough. The men weren't friendly but considering my broken German in a split Russian-American accent, I couldn't blame them. None of them knew if they could trust me fully but they knew I was a good worker so they left me to mainly to myself.   Week three and our journey was ahead of schedule the 44 nights was now down to 37 because of the calm seas which were predicted to last. Lucky for me I guess because one of the men had to disappear.

I awoke before sunrise on day 23 to find one of the other men looking through my hold-all and trying to read my journal.  It was in Russian so unless there was something he wasn't telling anyone, I highly doubt he'd know what to make of it. Keeping still and my eyes barely open I watched him work his way around my sleeping area until he came to me and took specific interest in my left arm.  I felt him touch it; I guess he thought with it being metal that I had no feeling - HYDRA were advanced even for the mid 1960’s. He didn't have time to scream as he lifted my cuff and caught a glimpse of the slightly tarnished metal - sea air had not been good to it and I needed to clean out between the plates but that was impossible when I had no privacy - I had grabbed him by the wrist, spun him and snapped his neck before he knew what had happened.

I had to be quick and silent as I half-carried half-dragged him up to the top deck.  Sure, I could have lifted and carried him fully but had I been discovered I would have had no reason to be doing so.  At least this way I could feign sudden sea sickness or the like. To my eternal relief nobody saw us or heard as I carefully threw his body overboard into the wake; it barely made a noise and I was swiftly back in my sleeping area just as my work mate was rounding the corner to wake me for my shift.

It was three days before anyone said anything about the missing man. His name had been Otto, apparently and he had told his bunk mate Frank that he was 'on to something big’ but hadn't had the chance to elaborate before going missing.  Most of these men had known each other for many years, so naturally as the newcomer I was the leading suspect in Otto's disappearance. I managed to convince them I had no idea what had happened and was happy to help search for him. When none of us found anything the captain of the ship decided he must have gotten drunk and fallen overboard.  Frank and his friends agreed this was entirely likely and apologized to me in the form of extra whiskey. I noted in my journal that alcohol no longer affected me at all; no clouded judgement or slurred speech, no dizziness or headaches. I had to learn how to act drunk so the men didn't question me further.

The remaining days went by quicker than I anticipated and before I knew it I was looking at the Staten Island skyline.  I still had no idea what I was actually doing here; I just had a name in my head. Howard Stark. I recognised the name but I didn't know why or where from.

I bid farewell to the men from ship after I helped offload the cargo.  They wished me well and smiled but as soon as my back was turned and they thought I could no longer hear them they started whispering about Otto and that they 'knew’ I had murdered him.  I made a swift getaway and blended in with the crowd of people who were making their way to and from the docks, it didn't take me long to find my way towards the Brooklyn Bridge which would take me to the West Side of Brooklyn from there I would find my way to Manhattan.  I didn't know why it needed to be Manhattan except that my answers would be there somehow.

The walk across the bridge made me feel at home or as if I was going home.  My boots fell into steps I swore I had walked before and while the feeling was right there, the memories wouldn't come through; they were always just out of reach.  Brooklyn was just how I never remembered it… familiar but brand new at the same time. I had been here and I had walked these streets but the people and the buildings were new.  Everything was the same but it had changed too and I began to realise that maybe there was something that scared me just a little.  I shook the feeling off and walked through the streets trying to find something that felt right.  Somewhere to sleep and shower, somewhere I could clean the salt out of my arm plates and wear some clean clothes.

I must have looked confused as a white haired man wearing glasses and a worn suit stopped me outside a building.

“Looking for somewhere familiar?”

I frowned and simply nodded, still looking around at the streets.

“Need a room?” He asked further.

I nodded again “...Yeah. How did…” I didn't get to finish my question as he instructed me to tell a woman inside named Wanda that he had sent me.

“What's your name?” I asked as he turned to walk away.

“She'll know who.” He replied and continued on his way carrying a newspaper.

I looked inside and then back towards the man who must have slipped down a side street because I couldn't see him anymore.

Inside the store was a small bakery with a couple of tables and chairs.  Behind the counter was a middle-aged woman who I assumed was Wanda.

“I'm looking for Wanda?” It comes out as a question.

“And who are you to be looking for Wanda?” The woman replied with a slight frown.

“There was a white-haired man in glasses… he sent me. I need a place to…”

“Say no more. Come on in and follow me.”

I open my mouth to speak but end up just nodding instead before I finally follow Wanda through a door and up a narrow flight of stairs that I barely fit up; my shoulders touching both walls.

“....Does that sound good?” Wanda speaks a little louder; she had been talking to me but I hadn't heard anything.

“I'm sorry… I've not had much sleep.” Not a complete lie. “I didn't take all of that in.”

Wanda nods and explains the rates of the room to let, what time food is served and that I will have to deal with my breakfast and lunch needs myself.

“I'm afraid I won't be staying long. I'm heading through to Manhattan… I need to find Howard Stark.”

She snorts a laugh “That fool? He's so intent on making flying cars he can't enjoy the ones we have now!”

I nod “flying cars?” Raising an eyebrow in question.

“You heard me… it's all over the news where have you been? Locked away in a cage?”

I half laugh “you could say that, yeah.” She didn't know how close to the truth that was.

“I'll write you down the routes to get you there. Just stay a couple of days. Free of charge.” Wanda smiles and it's a friendly smile. It's a smile that makes me want to trust her. So I nod and return the smile.  

The room was big enough for a single bed, side drawers with a lamp and a sink on the opposite wall.  The bathroom was down the hall and lockable. After almost five weeks at sea sleeping in a hammock and no private bathroom this place seemed like the Ritz.  

I thanked Wanda and sat on the bed, relaxing a little before deciding on a shower and cleaning out the salt from my arm before it rusted. If it rusted. I wasn't entirely sure anymore but I did know the salt was making it harder to move and power.

I had planned on joining Wanda for the evening meal and thanking her. I had planned on asking questions… funny how plans don't always work out.  I awoke in the early hours and found a piece of paper slipped under my door with instructions on how to get to Manhattan and $50. The floor was silent and so was the street outside which made the hair on my neck stand up.  Something just wasn't right and I had very little time to think. I slipped into my clothes and packed up what I could, heading out and down the stairs. I hesitated before deciding on the back door to the building and walking my way through joining streets.  It wasn't long before I was proved right and the small bakery went up in an explosion behind me.