The Woman in Uniform

The Winter Soldier

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He has no idea who he is, or, at least, who he was. He knows who he is now; the Winter Soldier. He was trained to be a killer, that's all he has ever known. He only ever remembers the cold Russian air. 

He clenched his left fist, reminding himself that he wasn't completely human. His entire left arm was metal. He wasn't sure how he got it. As I said, he only remembers being the Winter Soldier . . . sorta. 

He remembers a voice, and that's it. It was almost angelic, pure if you must. It was soft but strong and powerful. It always spoke the same two things. 

"Be brave, Sergeant."

"I love you more than the moon."

There was nothing else after that. There was nothing that could identify the woman. Yet, that didn't stop his mind from playing her voice through his mind over and over again.

It was almost like a taunt. 

He wanted nothing more than to know who the woman's voice belonged to. He wanted nothing more than to know why it brought him such comfort, such a feeling of home. 

But he couldn't. 

He didn't know a single thing about his previous life. 

All he remembered was having a metal arm.

"Your target," someone spoke in Russian, handing him a folder. "Confirmed death in ten hours. This is your first test. You don't want to fail."

The Soldier said nothing. He simply took the folder and made his way towards the truck. He was surrounded by guards as he climbed into the back of the truck, two guards following moments later 

As the truck began to move, the Soldier opened the file. He was greeted by the face of perhaps the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Her skin was flawless, without a single blemish in sight. Her sharp jawline was displayed as her face was angled slightly away from the camera. Her light-colored hair fell perfectly around her face and down her back. Her lips were colored darkly, he couldn't tell the color seeing as the photograph lacked color. 

But that didn't explain how he knew she had the most brilliant blue eyes. 

If the photograph lacked color, how did he know the woman had blue eyes?"

"The target is Marlene Rogers?" one of the guards asked in a hushed whisper. It was almost completely silent, that the Soldier almost didn't hear, but he did. 

"Apparently," the other responded in the same tone. 

"I thought the boss would have wanted to have her as an asset," the first guard responded. "From what I heard, she can take down entire bases within minutes. Not to mention her experience."

"They couldn't risk it."

"Risk what?" 

The Soldier was wondering the exact same thing. If she can take down entire facilities, escaping all of the security protocols, and coming out alive, why shouldn't she be an asset. 

"They couldn't risk her decoding him," the second guard jerked his head towards the Soldier. "Apparently, they were . . . involved. Like, set to be married involved."

The first guard's eyes went wide with shock. 

"The boss can't risk the two of them ever interacting," the second guard continued. "So, she is to be eliminated. This mission, I heard, is his first test."

***

The SSR had caught wind of an underground operation. Thompson, who was promoted to director of the New York office, had sent Marlene, knowing she was the best for the job. He knew she could gather intel without being detected. 

Marlene sat quietly on board a train, moving through the cold front of Siberia. It was nearing her brother's birthday. He would be twenty-nine in a few days. 

The next time Marlene would see her brother, he would technically be at the ripe age of 93. 

***

The Soldier was in position. He had a two-minute window to shoot his mission. He had his rifle poised, ready to shoot. 

He saw the silver train barrelling along the track. He looked through the scope of his rifle, spotting the target. He shifted lightly, securing that he would make the shot. His finger danced over the trigger ready to shoot . . .

But he hesitated. 

He knew he was supposed to kill her, and thus far, he hasn't had any problems following an order. Of, course the order wasn't murder, not yet, but still. Something kept from pulling the trigger. 

"Come on, Bucket! Don't be such a Sour Soldier!"

It was the same voice he's been hearing for weeks.

Suddenly, he wasn't seeing the woman through a scope. Suddenly, he wasn't seeing the train at all. He was seeing flashed, almost like a film. 

He saw the woman's smile flash before his eyes. He saw her looking up at him, almost as if they were dancing. He saw a man to his left, clapping him on the back with a smile. The man looked could almost pass as the woman's brother. 

He was looking through the scope of a rifle again, but it was different. Instead of aiming at the train, he was aiming at an agent dressed similar to the ones that accompanied him on the journey. He watched as one approached the woman from behind, but he shot them down. 

More images flashed through his mind as his two-minute window dwindled. More images of the woman. More of the man. More of other people. 

But mainly of the man and woman. 

He was able to catch their names through the memories. 

Steve and Marlene Rogers. 

Then the train blew up. 

The Soldier failed his mission, and the woman was gone with the train.