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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It's been a few months since my talk with Natalia, she's helped me as much as I've helped her. We talk once a week in the middle of the night. She's helped me recover my memories of a woman named Peggy Carter, the emotions that came with the memories weren't pleasant. There was one particular memory of me leaving that hurt, I dreamt about it for weeks, the guilt I felt for leaving her, the pain that caused me to leave. But I pushed past it, and focused on my own personal mission of finding out as much as possible about Peggy.
Turns out she helped form something called the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, or S.H.I.E.L.D for short. Something about the abbreviation made me feel a pang of grief, a shield, what's so relevant about a shield? I thought. I'd heard the name bounced around the base over the last few years but I'd never been assigned to any missions regarding it so I know very little. I found out that she got married to an allied soldier and has children. She also became the director of S.H.I.E.L.D in 1970, which came as no surprise to me. My research on Peggy meant that when I escaped I knew who I had to talk to, it was just a matter of getting to her, and getting the opportunity to break out.
I lie in bed unable to sleep, my brain turning itself inside out trying to remember things. Frustrated, I throw the covers off my body. I change into my workout gear and slip on some trainers. I make my way down to the training room and find it empty, thankfully. In some cases I've come down here and Hydra guards have been training, and the men in this place are disgusting. I glide over to a mat and begin my stretches. My brain screams at me telling me I deserve to feel pain but I fight the instinct and prepare my body. The first hit to the punching bag instantly lifts some tension from my shoulders, I punch and punch and punch until the cuts on my knuckles reopen. Three hours later I stop. I head to the bathroom and watch the water turn pink as I wash the blood off of my hands, reveling in the sharp sting of the soap.
As I make my way back to my room I hear a loud bang. My head turns in the direction of the noise and find it coming from the debriefing room. I sneak over to the door just as a Hydra guard leaves, making myself invisible, I slip into the room. "Mission status?" Karpov barks. My brows furrow in confusion, no one has ever come back this late after a mission, Karpov is never awake. "Complete." A gruff voice mutters from the corner of the room. His face is concealed in darkness along with the rest of his body but the light from the moon reflects off of a shiny surface. I squint my eyes and notice that it's a metal arm, a sharp intake of breath steadies me as I realise that I am stood in the same room as the Winter Soldier. "Good Soldat, and nobody saw you?" Asks Karpov. "Net, shot security camera." Winter responds. I feel a hint of pity at the short sentences, an indicator that he is both fearful of speaking out of turn and not fully here mentally. "Go back to your handler Soldat." Karpov orders and the soldier stands. Still in the dark I sense him looking at me, even though I know I can't be seen I turn and hide away from him.
I hear the door slam just as Karpov begins a phone call. "The mission is complete. The asset claims he wasn't seen." Karpov states, the man on the other end of the phone hums in acknowledgment before asking, "Any sign of the serum?" Karpov smiles and states, "Yes Sir, Soldat got the serum before fleeing the scene." The other man sniffs a little before asking, "How did they die?" I may be part of Hydra but that doesn't mean I don't want to tear people limb from limb when they're this insensitive. "Skull crushed and strangulation." Karpov explains. A shudder runs through my body as I think about having that metal arm wrapped around my neck, in any and all scenarios. "Good, Howard and Maria Stark are definitely dead. Their car will be found soon, but for now we wait." My blood runs cold in recognition of the name Howard Stark. An image of a short man with a neat black hair and prominent moustache pops into my head.
"You've always been attractive." He says, quirking an eyebrow before I elbow him in the ribs. "Shut up Howie." Howard Stark, one of my best friends, is dead. Everything hits me all of a sudden, I'd read the name when researching Peggy. He had a son, Anthony Edward Stark. My breathing becomes more erratic as I run back to my room. I have to get out of here, I rip up my floorboard and pull out my emergency backpack. Strapping my guns and knives to various parts of my body, I prepare to leave. I grab a piece of paper and scribble: 'Nat. Rip this note once you read it. When you escape, go to New York. We'll find each other I promise.' I sneak out of my room and head towards the sleeping quarters of the agents. Finding Nat's bunk I slip the note into her shoe, the place we agreed upon. I lean down and place a kiss to her forehead, she stirs a little but stays asleep. I feel guilty that I can't bring her with me but I know she'll be okay.
I make my way towards the entrance to the base, taking a moment to prepare myself for the cold. I sit in wait for a few minutes until it hits the hour and the guards change from the night to morning shift. Concealing myself, I slip through the doors and am immediately hit by the cold winds. Pushing through the snow I walk and walk and walk until I come to an train station. Remaining hidden is beginning to drain my energy, there's only one way I can rejuvenate quickly. Sneaking into the station bathrooms I find two business men chatting at the sinks. Their energy masses burn a bright blue, drawing me instantly to them. I mentally pull at the string as I feel their energy consume me. I feel a small amount of the pain they feel as some of their memories flash through my head. I shake them away and keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see the bodies.
I scan the list of trains and find one that will take me from Belarus to Warsaw. From there I'll take a train from Warsaw, through Germany to the coast of France. Once I reach France I'll sneak onto a cargo ship that will take me across to America. I'll no longer have to hide myself or my identity when I get to America and can steal a car to get to New York.
