Liberty Is Mine |2| The Liberty Saga

Chapter Three: The Soldiers

Meanwhile, in a secure S.H.I.E.L.D. analytical room, the location of which was strictly classified except to those with a level nine or higher security clearance, Fury was consulting with the World Security Council via video link.

"This is out of line, Director," Gideon Malick was saying, shaking his head. "You're dealing with forces you can't control."

"You ever been in a war, Councilman?" Fury asked pointedly, raising his eyebrows. "In a firefight? Did you feel an overabundance of control?"

"You're saying this Asgard has declared war on our planet?" Malick asked.

"Not Asgard, Loki," Fury corrected.

"He can't be working alone," Councilwoman Hawley reasoned. "What about the other one? His brother?"

Fury shook his head. "Our intelligence says Thor is not a hostile. But he's worlds away, we can't depend on him to help. It's up to us."

"Which is why you should be focussing on Phase Two," Malick tried. "It was designed for exactly—"

"Phase Two isn't ready," Fury cut him off. "Our enemy is. We need a response team."

"The Avengers Initiative was shut down," Malick reminded him.

He scoffed. "This isn't about the Avengers."

"We're running the world's greatest covert security network and you're gonna leave the fate of the human race to a handful of freaks?"

"I'm not leaving anything to anyone," Fury insisted. "We need a response team. These people may be isolated, unbalanced even. But I believe that with the right push, they can be exactly what we need."

"You believe?" Hawley echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Malick narrowed his eyes. "War isn't won by sentiment, Director."

"No," Fury conceded. "It's won by soldiers."

***

Even if she hadn't become a supersoldier, even if her life had continued as scripted without decades passing in the blink of an eye, she had a feeling she would always have become this. A creature of war. The soldier who never came home, who had battle in her blood and her sweat and her tears.

Most especially her tears.

The world wanted her to move on, to act as though it had been seventy years. For the world, of course, it had. But for her, it had been... Well, it was difficult to be exact. She had closed her eyes one second and opened them the next to find man had been put on the moon. Calendars hadn't exactly been helpful. But at a general estimate, she figured it had been about two or three years since she had gone under.

Three or four since James Bucky Barnes had fallen from the train.

Three or four years and she was still full of rage, full of grief. Full of guilt. That was what powered every strike of her foot on the treadmill, every impact of her fist on the punching bag. She had thought destroying Hydra would make it better, ease the pain. She'd thought she could avenge his loss. But Hydra was long gone, and the memory of him still hurt so much she could hardly breathe. And when she thought of Heide at the same time—

The punching bag flew off the hook and slammed into the wall, splitting.

"Trouble sleeping?"

Elke turned to see Fury stood in the doorway to the gym. His gaze was on Steve, who was just slowing from a near-supersonic pace on the treadmill. "I slept for seventy years, sir," he replied mildly. "I think I've had my fill."