Getting Lucky

15. The Asset

(Loki)

"James!" I dash over to his collapsed body, checking for a pulse. Relief from his steady heartbeat only lasts a moment as my mind fully registers what had just happened. I stand up, keeping a calm demeanour, "If you want him back, you'll have to go through everybody in this tower, and you don't want to make me an enemy."

The voice chuckles, "Who said anything about us taking the Asset? We have a much... easier tactic in mind, one that has proven very effective times before. You can say that he'll just... walk right out if I order him to."

"Try me," I snarl.

"If you insist, God of Mischief," the voice almost has a cocky tone as he begins to speak again, this time in Russian.

"Longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car."

As the words are uttered, I watch as James' unconscious body begins to twitch, as if responding to the bizarre string of Russian. 

I slowly begin sliding towards the door, debating my next move.

James sits up, but his movements are jagged, almost robotic. His eyes open, and a chill seems to run down my spine as our gazes meet. 

His eyes are dead, devoid of all emotion, like staring into the eyes of a statue. There is no recognition, no sign that he is even the same man that I had been speaking with only moments before.

It's at that moment that I experience my first encounter with the Winter Soldier.

The Soldiers mouth opens, and he speaks in Russian, uttering only three words: "Ready to comply."

My blood runs ice cold.

"Good," the HYDRA hacker sounds smug, "Now leave the building as quickly as possible, and kill anyone who gets in your way. Starting with him."

His steel gaze jumps back to me, pinning me in place. I was outside of the room, but still dangerously close. I see a moment of hesitation, something flitting across the Soldier's face before his expression hardens and he launches himself at me with deadly speed and grace.

'Oh shit.'

I dodge his metal fist, ducking under his arm and slamming my elbow into the center of his spine. A blow like that would've staggered a normal human, but the soldier was no ordinary man.

His metal arm flies back and grabs a fistful of my shirt, slamming me against a wall. I wrench myself out of his grasp, swiftly driving my knee into his gut. The Soldier's fist flies towards my face and I dodge away, the soldier hot on my heels.

He was skilled, but magic or no magic, I wouldn't go down without a fight. The room is ripped apart as we attack one another, dodging and landing staggering blows, but neither of us gaining the upper hand. Items break, scattering shards of glass, and I'm grateful that the knives aren't sitting out.

When I used to have to fight Thor, I could only best him by using agility against his brute strength.

But the Soldier fights differently. Like a master chess player, his mind is always multiple steps ahead of his attacks, planning every possible outcome. He balances strength and speed perfectly, leaving me with only one advantage: Experience. There is also the problem of emotional attachments, The Soldier doesn't feel, and therefore won't hesitate, but I on the other hand care too much to have to hurt him more than necessary.

'Then let's hope my fighting experience is enough.'

Even in the middle of our fight, I realize that I haven't met anybody this good at battle math in multiple centuries. It seems that I've met my match.

I quickly catch on to the Soldier's most fatal disadvantage. The weight of his metal arm causes a swagger in his footsteps and punching with it offsets his balance slightly. Embracing his slight stumble, I swiftly kick his legs out from under him.

The Soldier falls on his back with a grunt, taking me down with him. As we attack one another on the ground, shards of broken glass cutting my skin, I'm unnerved by his eerie silence. Not a single word leaves his lips.

His knee slams into my stomach, winding me for enough time, that I'm pinned on the ground.

Now, normally being straddled with my wrists pinned above my head by one of the sexiest men I've ever met would be a serious turn-on, but considering he was going to kill me, and not in a fun way, dirty thoughts were nonexistent.

Mostly.

For a moment his hardened expression changes, and a look of pain and torment flashes in his eyes, before disappearing once again as his grip on my wrists begin to tighten.

I knew that I was going to die. The Soldier would probably break one of my wrists and render my hand useless, then strangle me to death. There is a strange sense of peace that overcomes me as the cuffs begin to dig into my skin. They were the only thing protecting my wrists, but they wouldn't last forever.

I find myself only having one true regret as I accept my fate.

'I wish I could've told you how much I cared.'

I close my eyes, waiting for the explosion of pain in my hands to signify that they were broken. I hear a cracking noise, but the pain doesn't cease or increase. Instead, I feel the slightest tingling sensation on my fingertips, but not one of a broken bone.

My eyes open as the realization hits me.

'He cracked one of the cuffs.'

A new determination builds in me. I am nowhere NEAR my full powers, but I might have just enough magic to beat him without having to resort to killing.

Luckily for me, the soldier wasn't pinning my legs.

I cringe in apology, "Sorry about this, James."

I drive my knee upwards, landing a direct hit to his groin.

The Soldier's face slackens, his jaw dropping slightly as he turns pale. In his shock from my low blow, his hands release my wrists.

'Perfect.'

Quick as lightning, my hand darts forwards and touches his forehead, sending out a simple command with the meager magic at my disposal:

"Sleep."

The Soldier's eyes flutter shut as he promptly collapses on top of me.