Not The Only One - A Winter Soldier Story

Chapter 5

Fair warning: Winter Soldiers killing people will occur.

     Having arrived at the safehouse, I flipped down the kickstand and turned off the powerful machine that rested between my legs.

     I was going to kick in the front door, but trying the doorknob revealed a simpler option. Pistol clasped in my hands, I entered the house.

     The front room was empty, and I proceeded to clear the house. In the kitchen, a woman stood at the sink with her back to me.

     "Мамочка?" a child's voice called out from another room.

     When the woman turned around, I shot her three times in the chest before she could draw in enough breath to scream.

     "Мамочка?"

     A small head of brown hair rounded the corner. I fired three more shots, and the boy met the same end as his mother.

     Now, I heard another child's voice and followed the singing outside, where a little girl was playing on a swing set. Wrapping the swing's chain around her neck, I held it tight until she was no longer living.

     The backyard was empty, so I returned to the house. Clearing several rooms revealed no one. After entering the master bedroom, I heard soft sobs coming from under the bed. I snatched a pillow from the headboard and then knelt down. Grabbing the older boy by the ankle, I dragged him out from his hiding place and straddled my legs over his torso before pushing the pillow down onto his face and holding it there until he had taken his final breaths. 

     My first four targets were successfully eliminated with no witnesses. 

     I closed the front door behind me and returned to the motorcycle. The snow was falling fast now and made me anxious to get to the shipping container for the night.

     After arriving at the shipping yard and searching for several minutes, I located the container. It was red and bore the same set of numbers I had seen in the photo earlier. Opening the right door revealed a flashlight on the floor. Clicking it on and shining it inside showed that the walls were lined with weapons, just like the room I had been in earlier. 

     I walked the motorcycle into the container and cut off the engine before closing the door shut. Shipping containers only open from the outside, but this one had been modified to open and close from the inside.

     There were two large chests, one against each wall. The chest on the left was filled with ammo and knives, while the other chest held an old sleeping bag, a case of water bottles, packages of ration crackers, and little tins with some type of meat in them. 

     After spreading out the sleeping bag, I sat on it and ate a package of crackers along with a tin of the strange meat substance. When I finished my little meal, I replenished my ammunition and selected a few knives to add to my collection.

     Crawling into the sleeping bag, I turned off the flashlight and tried to fall asleep, but a cold, dark metal box was not the most conducive place for rest.

     Over the next few hours, the container was moved several times in multiple ways. Eventually, the steady motion of travel lulled me to sleep.