Out of Time (Book 1)

Vengeance and Vitriol

"Betty? Betty, wake up. We're here." Steve's voice filtered through the fog of her mind.

She'd fallen asleep in the car on the way from the airbase out of sheer exhaustion. For that one blissful second as she awoke, she forgot, but then the memories came pouring back in and her world collapsed all over again. She put one foot in front of the other, focusing on that one task as the group headed into the SSR headquarters, barely noticing the rubble of the bombed out buildings around them. She gave her details woodenly to the soldier allocating accommodation, taking her documents back off him, and walked past him into the corridor. She could almost hear Bucky's voice murmuring in her ear as she passed the spot where he'd cornered her against the wall and kissed down her neck...

Entering her quarters, she set her kit bag on the floor next to her bed and perched rigidly on the end. Placing her hand into the pocket of her combat pants she felt the little wooden birds and rubbed her thumb compulsively over the contours of the carving, a gesture that had become almost calming to her over the last 24 hours. Betty didn't know how long she'd been sat there, lost in the miasma of her thoughts, when she heard rapid footsteps approaching the room. The door burst open, and Peggy swept in. The normally composed woman dropped to her knees in front of Betty and drew her into a tight hug. Betty supposed that it was meant to be a comfort, but nothing was. She sat there, as wooden as the birds in her hand.

"Betty, I'm so, so sorry." Even Peggy's stoic demeanour cracked.

"Everyone keeps sayin' that," Betty almost whispered, "but it doesn't change anythin'."

"No it doesn't."

"He's everywhere." A tear appeared at the corner of her eye.

"Why don't we go out for dinner? My treat?" Peggy wanted to do anything to help distract her friend.

Betty shook her head. "I can't. I just...can't."

Peggy stayed kneeling, hands on Betty's shoulders, studying her face. She didn't say anything else, waiting for Betty to break the silence.

"Steve blames himself you know." Betty finally spoke. "But it's not his fault."

"No it isn't," Peggy agreed.

"It's Hydra's." Betty's jaw tightened and her face changed from an emotionless void to one filled with cold determination.

She gripped the wooden birds so hard they left indents in her palm.

"I'm gonna make them pay for what they've done." She stood suddenly. "I need to talk to Phillips," she resolved, spinning on her heel, and stalking out of the room.

Betty found Chester Phillips in his office, leafing through pages of what looked like interview transcripts. She knocked briskly on the door and waited. His eyes flicked up to her and he waved her in, not speaking.

"Colonel, may I have a moment of your time?" There was a hardness to her voice that belied her polite words and Phillips looked up again in surprise.

"You'd better make it quick Lieutenant, there's a mission to plan. Our doctor friend has been singing like a canary."

"Zola's here?" she spat, almost shaking with anger.

Phillips raised an eyebrow at her tone.

"He's proving to be quite the asset. Was there something you wanted?"

"I want to be part of the mission, Sir. I can fight, you know that. I need to help take Hydra down." Betty tried to keep her tone even.

"You do now, do you? Well I'm afraid the decision resides with your team's commanding officer. That would be your brother." He looked back down at his paperwork in dismissal.