Steve's Diary

July 9, 2014

Dearest Diary,

I've had a very, very long week or so. It's just been hard hiding out the whole time, I mean. Like, when I was 5'4" and preserum, there wasn't a problem in the world for me. I could hide within the masses without a problem.

Now, being 6'2" and a literal, absolute unit... it's incredibly difficult to be unseen. 

The classic aviators, sweatshirt and baseball cap don't really seem to be cutting it anymore, now that the world's greatest spies are looking for me.

Either way, I've already waited too long. I should have gone back the same day to that damned hospital to retrieve the flash drive Fury gave me before he died. I just hope it's not too late.

—————

I made my way down the hall towards the vending machine as inconspicuously as I possibly could, though, I felt pretty obvious.

Once I made it to the vending machine, after what felt like the longest few minutes of my life, I checked the slot I had put it in - 510 - and it wasn't there. Hell, all the gum was gone, too.

I had no idea what I was gonna do now, I mean, who would- Natasha walked up behind me. She blew a pink bubble and it popped across her lips. How did she know I was coming here today? I grabbed her by the shoulders and started pushing her into the nearest closed-door room. Once inside, I pushed her against the wall.

"Where is it?" I demanded.

"Safe," she swore.

"Do better," I warned.

"Where did you get it?" She asked.

"Why would I tell you?" I sneered, pushing my face closer to hers.

"Fury gave it to you," she deduced. "Why?"

"What's on it?"

"I don't know," she replied defensively.

"Stop lying," I badgered her, bringing myself even closer.

"I only act like I know everything, Rogers," she revealed.

"I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn't you?"

She looked surprised and hesitated a second. "Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so do you-"

"I'm not gonna ask you again," I shook her where she stood. She looked between my eyes trying to think of something quick.

"I know who killed Fury," she blurted out, pausing for a moment thereafter and allowing me to absorb it fully. "Most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists. The ones that do call him the Winter Soldier. He's credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years."

"So, he's a ghost story," I said.

"Five years ago," she began. "I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran. Somebody shot out my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff- I pulled us out... but the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering my engineer so he shot him straight through me," she lifted up her shirt to show me a scar in line with her belly button but a bit farther to the right. "Soviet slug. No rifling. Bye-bye, bikinis."

My expression didn't change, though, the thought of that just kind of flash through my mind for a second- "Yea, I bet you look terrible in them now," I commented.

"Going after him is a dead end. I know, I've tried. Like you said," she held up the flash drive. "He's a ghost story."

I took it. "Well, let's find out what the ghost wants."