12. C.A. Winter Soldier (2)

I could see that there were still police cars following us, and I was still worried. I had never been in a situation like this, and I wasn't sure if I was handling it very well, so I tried to stay calm.

"Get me, Agent Hill," Uncle Nick asked the computer.

"Communications array damaged," it told us.

"Well, what's not damaged?" I asked.

"Air conditioning is fully operational."

"Are you kidding me?" I rolled my eyes in frustration, then focused on the road ahead of us. We continued to speed past other cars, trying to get away.

"Traffic ahead," the computer informed.

"Give me an alternate route," Uncle Nick demanded.

"Traffic alert on Roosevelt Bridge. All vehicles stopped. 17th Avenue clear in three blocks, directly ahead."

Uncle Nick drove past more cars and ended up bumping a truck that was in the way. I was scared, but I trusted my uncle to get us out of this. We pushed through the build-up of cars, but the men had gotten out of their vehicles and started shooting at us through the broken window. I went to use a force field to cover it, but Uncle Nick stopped me, shaking his head. More gunshots were released as we advanced. Uncle Nick was able to hit the men standing with the car, but some got back into the vehicles and drove after us again. Two cop cars came up on either side of us as we raced down the street. A man in the car on the left shot at us through the window, and I put up a shield in front of us to guide the bullets in the direction away from us. A truck came between us, and when we both passed it Uncle Nick spoke,

"Katie, get ready!"

I looked at him and watched as he drove to the left toward the car shooting at us. The man hanging out of the cop car's window was knocked through ours slightly and continued to shoot. I put a force field around his gun, preventing him from doing any damage as the car on the right closed into our other side. We were now in between the two cars with a man leaning through our window, trying to shoot us. Uncle Nick was able to grab his gun and punch him, but the man had another gun. As Uncle Nick tried to get it out of his grip, the computer warned us,

"Warning. Approaching intersection."

I looked ahead to see the road island and intersection that we were headed for and panicked again, my eyes widening. Luckily, Uncle Nick slammed on the brakes before we crossed the intersection, and the two cop cars were smashed by a truck. Uncle Nick continued to drive us away,

"Get us off the grid!" he demanded.

"Calculating route to secure location."

As the computer calculated, I took deep breaths to calm myself down and leaned my head against the headrest. When I looked up again, I saw the silhouette of a man standing in the middle of the road, right in front of us. He held up what looked like a gun through the cracked windshield, and something went under the car. After a few seconds, the device that stuck to the car's underside exploded, flipping the car upside down. I screamed as I tried to put a shield over both of us. When the car landed upside down, I was so dizzy and couldn't think clearly. When I glanced over at Uncle Nick, he had turned on his pocket blow torch and created a hole in the ground. He unbuckled my seatbelt and made me go down into the sewers. Once we were both down, and my head had cleared up a little, I noticed that my right arm had a deep gash but ignored the pain.

"Are you ok?" I asked Uncle Nick with a shaky breath. He nodded and took my hand. "Where are we going?"

"Your Dad's."

After walking for a while, we finally got to Dad's apartment and went inside. Uncle Nick sat down in an armchair by the wall and turned on the record player. I was about to question it but Uncle Nick just placed a finger to my lips, indicating for me to stay quiet. He then typed on his phone: Go pack a bag with extra clothes and some necessities. I did as told and went into my room to grab my backpack, two extra outfits for me and my emergency cash. I then thought to pack Dad some clothes, so I grabbed a pair of pants, a shirt and a hoodie. After I finished packing, I heard Dad speak,

"I don't remember giving you a key," he said to Uncle Nick. I swung my backpack onto my shoulders and winced when it sat on my right shoulder. I then walked to the living room, listening to the conversation between Uncle Nick and Dad.

"Do you really think I'd need one?" Uncle Nick asked. "My wife kicked me out."

"Didn't know you were married."

"A lot of things you don't know about me."

"I know, Nick. That's the problem." Dad turned on the light and saw all of Uncle Nick's injuries. I quickly rushed into the living room,

"Dad!" I hugged him, preventing any questions that could expose what was really going on to whoever may be listening. He looked at me, then at Uncle Nick, confused about his injuries and my dirty face. Uncle Nick simply indicated for Dad to be quiet and turned the light off. He then typed onto his phone: Ears everywhere.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, but I had no place else to crash," Uncle Nick said, showing another message on his phone: S.H.I.E.L.D compromised.

"Who else knows about your wife?" Dad asked, and Uncle Nick showed a final message to Dad: You and me.

"Just... my friends."

"Is that what we are?"

"That's up to you."

I looked up at Dad with pleading eyes when suddenly, three gunshots went off and hit Uncle Nick. I gasped and froze. Dad quickly walked up to Uncle Nick and pulled him into the next room with one arm while the other held his shield. I immediately followed him and bent down next to Uncle Nick. Once I had calmed down from shock, I started to cover the bullet wounds with force fields to prevent blood loss. Uncle Nick then coughed and looked to me and Dad, taking hold of Dad's arm.

"Don't trust anyone," he warned us, handing Dad a USB file. Uncle Nick passed out and there was a loud knocking on our apartment door. Someone had broken in and spoke,

"Captain Rogers? Agent Katie?" Our neighbour, Kate, walked through the hallway holding a gun, "Captain, I'm Agent 13 of S.H.I.E.L.D special service."

"Kate?" Dad said with a confused expression. I stayed on the floor, hiding behind Dad's legs as he stood.

"I'm assigned to protect you," she said, walking into the kitchen and putting her gun away.

"On whose order?" Dad demanded, and Kate answered once she saw Uncle Nick,

"His." Kate leaned down to Nick and spoke into her radio, "Foxtrot is down, he's unresponsive. I need EMT's."

"Do you have a twenty on the shooter?" an agent asked her.

"Tell him I'm in pursuit," Dad stated and jumped out the window. I started to get up to follow him, but Kate grabbed my wrist.

"Katie, honey, I need you here with me, ok?" she said, and I hesitated but stayed with her.

When Dad came back, we went to the hospital with Uncle Nick and met up with Aunt Maria. Uncle Nick was brought into the operating room, and we watched from behind a glass window. I had called Aunt Nat as soon as we got to the hospital, and she arrived quickly. I was stood on Dad's left, and Aunt Nat came up on my left. Silent tears were streaming down my face as I watched the doctors operating.

"Is he going to make it?' Nat asked.

"I don't know," Dad replied, and I winced at the thought of Uncle Nick not making it.

"Tell me about the shooter."

"He's fast and strong. Had a metal arm."

Aunt Maria then stepped up beside Nat.

"Ballistics?" Aunt Nat asked her.

"Three slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable," Aunt Maria explained.

"Soviet-made."

"Yeah."

Uncle Nick's pulse monitor started to constantly beep, indicating that he was flatlining. I place my left hand against the glass, silently pleading for him to be ok. My senses all shut off except for my sight. I watched in horror as Uncle Nick continued to flatline. When the doctors seemed to give up, I started balling my heart out. I felt so broken. Dad wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me out of the room as I slightly struggled. He turned me around to face him, and I held onto him with all the strength I had left.

"Hey, hey, it's going to be ok," Dad tried to reassure me, placing his hands on either side of my face and wiping my tears, "Katie, Sweetheart, I know you are tired and scared and probably very confused, but I need you to be brave, ok?"

I stopped balling and just let tears fall as I looked up at him. "Nick needs us to be brave, so can you do that for me?"

I wiped away my sniffles and nodded.

We were stood in the room where Uncle Nick's lifeless body had been laid out. I hugged Dad as he rubbed my back to keep me calm. Aunt Nat stood closer to Uncle Nick's body, and I knew she was silently crying. Aunt Maria walked up beside us.

"I need to take him," she said. Dad released me, and Aunt Maria pulled me into her arms for a hug. Dad walked up to Aunt Nat,

"Natasha."

She stayed silent, tenderly touched Uncle Nick's head, then walked out into the hall. Dad followed her, but I just stayed in Aunt Maria's arms. After a moment, Aunt Maria rubbed my back soothingly and spoke,

"Sweetie, I need you to go with your Dad."

"Ok," I replied and gave her one last hug. When I walked out into the hall, Rumlow was walking away from Dad, and Nat glanced at me before looking back at Dad.

"You're a terrible liar," she said to him and walked away. I grabbed Dad's hand, and he looked down at me, squeezing my hand.

"They need us back at S.H.I.E.L.D," he told me.

"But what about..." I said, indicating toward the pocket that had the file in it. Dad casually looked around the hall, and we both spotted the vending machine. I nodded, then we walked toward Rumlow.

"Let's go," Dad said to him, still holding my left hand.

"Yeah," Rumlow answered, "STRIKE, move it out."

When we arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D., Dad and I cleaned up. Dad was bandaging up the gash in my right arm,

"Are you going to tell me what happened yesterday?"

"Not here," I responded, shaking my head. He sighed and finished. We separately put on our uniforms, and I re-braided my hair, then we made our way to Secretary Pierce's office. As we neared the door, Agent 13 was just leaving.

"Captain. Miss Rogers," she said as she walked past us.

"Neighbour," Dad and I both replied.

"Ah, Miss Rogers," Mr Secretary said, shaking my hand, "Captain. I'm Alexander Pierce."

The two men shook hands.

"Sir, it's an honour," Dad said.

"The honour is mine, Captain. My father served in the 101st. Come on in."

We followed Mr Secretary into his office, and I sat on the long sofa while Dad stood on my right, waiting for Mr Secretary to grab something and sit. I had been hiding my injured arm under my suit sleeves but laid it out on the table to provide some relief from the pain. Once he came over and the two men sat down, Mr Secretary showed us an old photo of him and Uncle Nick, and I looked away at the table to stop myself from crying again. "That photo was taken five years after Nick and I met. When I was at State Department in Bogota. ELN rebels took the embassy, and security got me out, but the rebels took hostages. Nick was deputy chief for the S.H.I.E.L.D. station there. And he comes to me with a plan. He wants to storm the building through the sewers. I said, 'No, we'll negotiate.' Turned out the ELN didn't negotiate, so they put out a kill order. They stormed the basement, and what did they find? They find it empty. Nick had ignored my direct order and carried out an unauthorized military operation on foreign soil. He saved the lives of a dozen political officers, including my daughter." At that, I looked up at Mr Secretary with interest.

"So you gave him a promotion," Dad stated.

"I've never had any cause to regret it. Captain, why was Nick in your apartment last night?" Mr Secretary asked, looking between me and Dad.

"After we came to speak with you, Uncle Nick said that he had to take me home early, so he did," I informed him with my gaze still at the table.

"You know it was bugged?" he asked us both.

"We did," Dad said, "Because Nick told us."

"Did he tell you that he was the one that bugged it?" Mr Secretary said, and I looked up at him with a shocked and confused expression. "I want you to see something." Mr Secretary brought up footage of Batroc, from Dad's last mission, being interrogated.

"Is that live?" Dad asked.

"Yeah, they picked him up last night in a not-so-safe house in Algiers," Mr Secretary told us, and I continued to watch the screen.

"Are you saying he's a suspect? Assassination isn't Batroc's line."

"No, it's more complicated than that. Batroc was hired anonymously to attack the Lemurian Star, and he was contacted by email and paid by wire transfer. And then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts, the last one going to a holding company that was registered to a Jacob Veech."

"Are we supposed to know who that is?" Mr Secretary then handed Dad a file, and he and I looked at it.

"Not likely. Veech died six years ago. His last address was 14-35 Elmhurst Drive. When I first met Nick, his mother lived at 14-37."

"Are you saying Fury hired the pirates? Why?" Dad asked, and I looked up at Mr Secretary.

"The prevailing theory was that the hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour, and that led to Nick's death."

"If you really knew Nick Fury, then you would know that's not true," I said, anger and hurt laced in my tone at the accusation.

"Why do you think we're talking?" Mr Secretary said to me, and I backed down. He then stood up and walked over to the window. Dad followed suit and stood up, standing beside me as I sat. "See, I took a seat on the Council not because I wanted to but because Nick asked me to because we were both realists. We knew that despite all the diplomacy, and the handshaking, and the rhetoric, that to build a really better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down. And that makes enemies. Those people that call you dirty because you got the guts to stick your hands in the mud and try to build something better. And the idea that those people could be happy today, makes me really, really angry." Mr Secretary hesitated and turned to face us again. "Captain, Miss Rogers, you two were the last ones to see Nick alive. I don't think that's an accident, and I don't think you do, either. So I'm going to ask again, why was he there?"

I didn't know what to say and simply had my mouth slightly agape, but Dad answered for both of us,

"He told us not to trust anyone."

"I wonder if that included him," Mr Secretary replied.

"I'm sorry, those were his last words. Excuse us," Dad said, grabbing my hand for me to follow before guiding me to walk in front of him.

"Captain," Mr Secretary called, and we turned, "Someone murdered my friend, and I'm going to find out why. Anyone gets in my way, they're going to regret it. Anyone."

"Understood," Dad answered, and he guided me out the door. We stepped into the elevator. I leaned my back against the window, and Dad leaned on the bar beside me, "Operations control," Dad instructed.

"Confirmed," the AI replied. Just as the doors were closing, Rumlow and two STRIKE agents stepped in with us. I quickly glanced up before looking back down at my feet.

"Cap," Rumlow greeted, causing Dad to turn around and face the door,

"Rumlow."

The doors closed, and the elevator started moving.

"Evidence Response found some fibres on the roof they want us to see. You want me to get the tac-team ready?"

"No, let's wait and see what it is first."

"Right."

I looked up slightly and noticed that one of the STRIKE agents had their hand on their gun. I grew slightly suspicious and took hold of Dad's hand to grab his attention. Once he looked down at me, I subtly nodded my head in the direction of the agent. Dad then held the same confused expression that I did. The elevator stopped again, allowing more STRIKE and S.H.I.E.L.D agents to step in. One of the agents quietly spoke,

"Excuse me."

Dad and I shifted, but I didn't let go of his hand. Rumlow spoke again,

"I'm sorry about what happened to Fury. Messed up, what happened to him," he said as he glanced at Dad and I, specifically at me.

"Thank you," I said, but I felt that something was off. Once more, the elevator stopped, and more agents got in. Dad squeezed my hand in a pattern. When we first started training, Dad thought it would be a good idea for us to have silent ways to communicate in public. The least suspicious way would be to squeeze the other's hand in patterns. In this case, Dad was confirming my thoughts that a fight was about to go down. I nodded slowly, knowing that he was watching, and let go of his hand.