𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬|| 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫

Chapter Thirty-Eight

2014

For the next couple of years, Winter and I have been in and out of cyro freeze. Doing odd missions, quite boring like undercover work, simple assassination blah, blah, blah. But when my eyes started to flutter open and I could feel the frost on my eyelashes, I knew I had another mission

Hopefully, this mission is more entertaining than the other. God.

Winter and I were pulled out and dragged to the place I hate the most in this whole building. The lab. We were forcefully shoved into the chairs as Pierce, Rulmlow and some heavily armed guards walked into the room. As they did Winter and I sat up straight. Respect. Cause he is our handler. "Wipe them." That is what Pierce simply said.

That's when the clamps came over my wrists and ankles and the scientist came with the mouthpiece. I licked my lips and opened my mouth for him to place it in. This is when I could hear Winters breathing get heavier and mine got faster as we knew what was about to happen.

I was pulled out of my thoughts but the most agonizing pain that I will never get used to. My screams were muffled by the mouth guard but it was still loud enough for it to hear from down the hall. All noise came background noise to my muffled bloodcurdling scream.

After the headpiece came off my body jolted a bit. My breath was heavy, and my throat was dry thanks to my screaming. My head also hurt like a bitch. "You have a new mission Soldiers," Pierce said and Winter and I looked up at him.

The clamps came off our wrist but not ankles. So we couldn't go anywhere. Pierce handed Winter a file and Rumlow handed me a file. On the file was a Black man with an eye patch over his left eye.

Name:
Nicholas Joseph Fury

Age:
63 years old

Date of birth:
December 21st, 1951

Place of birth:
New York

Profession:
Head of Shield

Appearance:
Black male
6'1
Eye patch on the left eye
Bald

I look back up at Pierce after reading the file and Winter does a couple of seconds after me. "We will have a SWAT team chase him down a busy road. There both of you will finish the job. Do I make myself clear?" He said in a stern voice.

"Yes sir." Winter and I reply and just then the clamps come off our ankles and we stand up and walk to the weapons room. I head to the locker that has my name on it 'Strike Soldier' I open it and grab my uniform. Thank fuck they have the audacity to wash it. If not it would smell like shit. With all the blood on it.

After getting all the buckles and straps clipped on I start getting my weapons. Like daggers. I put one in my right combat boot, one on my left waist strap and one on my wrist strap. Small handguns. One on the right waist strap, one on my left thigh holster and a VZ Vz. 61 E fitted on my back. I walk over to Winter as he is fitting his weapons on. "Need help with that." I offer him, with an outstretched arm.

"Do I have a choice?" He said a bit of sarcasm rolling off his tongue.

I tilted my head to the right slightly "No, not really. Hand it over. You're clearly struggling." I say as I take the gun out of his hand and fit it on his back. "There. How hard was that?" I say sarcasm clearly rolling off my tongue.