Viktoriya Solovyova, aka Agent 1, was trained in the Red Room. She managed to escape and move to America and has since been working closely with Peggy Carter. When she meets a scientist with revolutionary ideas, how will she cope with the changes?
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I still haven't recovered and I fear I never will but my determination and James' letters show me exactly what I must do. James gifted Steve his dog tags, he's always with us, and now we must avenge his death. Those around me are doubtful of my facade, who'd have thought emotionless was a concerning reaction to death. Nevertheless I must persevere, and to do so I must feel nothing. I watch Zola examine the room he's given from behind the glass. He reaches what we've provided as a bed, a small sheet of white metal dipped like a hammock in the centre, and stops. I presume he's spotted the blood I 'forgot' to clean after the last prisoner was held here.
Colonel Phillips and I enter the room, the former of the two of us holding a tray of food. Phillips was skeptical about letting me into the interrogation of sorts so I had no choice but to explain my past with Hydra. He allowed me in although I'm still unsure whether it was due to my inside knowledge or his own fear. "Sit down." Phillips says, his tone bordering friendly but still authoritative. Zola obeys and Phillips spins the tray towards him, removing a piece of paper and leaving only a plate of steak, potatoes and broccoli, and a glass of milk.
"What is this?" Zola asks, his heavy Swiss accent making me reminisce and subsequently grit my teeth in anger. Phillips simply tells him that it's steak, to which Zola asks, "What is in it?" I roll my eyes and spit out the word "Cow", both an answer and insult. "Doctor, do you realize how difficult it is to get ahold of a prime cut like that out here?" Phillips questions. "I don't eat meat." The doctor replies, explaining that it disagrees with him. "How about cyanide?" I ask, "Does that give you the rumbly tummy too?" Zola's nostrils flare and I smirk. Phillips cuts in, "Every Hydra agent that we've tried to take alive has crunched a little pill before we can stop him. But not you. So, here's my brilliant theory." He begins to eat the steak as he talks, "You wanna live." Zola twitches subtly, "You're trying to intimidate me." I raise and eyebrow and lean back in my chair. "I brought you dinner." the Colonel muses before sliding the piece of paper from before towards Zola. He reads it aloud, "Given the variable information he has provided, and in exchange for his full cooperation, Dr. Zola is being remanded to Switzerland."
I lean forwards again in my chair, shocked that Phillips is considering letting the man go, praying that this is a double bluff. "I sent that message to Washington this morning. Of course it was encoded. You guys haven't broken those codes, have you? That would be awkward." Phillips jokes. My hand tightly grips the edge of the table, trying to control my anger however my hand still begins to burn as the lights flicker a little. "Schmidt will know this is a lie." The doctor states casually. I interrupt the Colonel before he can say anything, "He's gonna kill you anyway Doc. You're a liability." Zola narrows his eyes at me before focusing on Phillips' words, "You know more about Schmidt than anyone. And the last guy you cost us was Captain Rogers' closest friend and the love of her life." He explains, motioning to me as I scowl at the image of James falling in my mind. "So, I wouldn't count on the very best of protection. There's you or Schmidt. It's just the hand you've been dealt." Phillips concludes.
After a moment of hesitation Zola speaks again, "Schmidt believes he walks in the foot steps of the Gods." I scoff as Phillips hums in agreement. "Only the world itself will satisfy him." I sigh and cross my arms, "Surely even you know that's nuts right?" I ask curiously. Zola simply responds "But the sanity of the plan is of no consequence." I furrow my brows and let out a huff of breath. "And why is that?" asks Phillips. "Because he can do it." At that any semblance of emotion drops from my face. "What's his target?" I ask. "His target," Zola leans in, "is everywhere."
My chair loudly scrapes across the floor as I leave Phillips with Zola and make my way to Steve, hoping he's up for a drink.
