Breakthrough

One

This is your mission.  
Wait for the target to return. 
Eliminate. Gather the intelligence. Clean up. 
When it's done, return to base. 
Understood? 

The Winter Soldier shifted slightly in his hide, not because he was uncomfortable, but because his senses had picked up on new information. A new scent filtered into his mind. Faint, brought by the change in wind. An omega. One in pre-heat. There was the faintest of stirrings in his brain, like a forgotten thought breathed new life by the scent. He blinked, shaking his head slightly and readjusted his eye back through the scope. His mission wasn't an omega, and the intel had nothing on one. Just one of the many people moving about the city sprawling out below where he was settled.  

Being an alpha, his senses had been strong to begin with, but when he became The Soldier, they had enhanced so much that there was a good chance the scent was reaching him from a kilometer or more away. The wind shifted once more and the traces of scent disappeared. Focusing back fully to the hunt, he waited.  

Training kept him almost perfectly still the entire time, able to wait however long it took. The cocktail of drugs they gave him not only masked his scent, so he couldn't be discovered that way, but also suppressed any kind of instinctual response his body would have to other designations. Without those reactions, they never had to bother with sending handlers with him. Between the serum running through his body and the way he could handle that cocktail of drugs to make him into the perfect killing machine, he was HYDRA's best agent.  

With a failure rate that was nearly nonexistent, HYDRA sent him out for the particularly tricky missions. The ones where failure was not only unacceptable but risked ruining everything that HYDRA had been working towards for more than 70 years. Two days of waiting and he finally caught the scent of the man that was his mission. They didn't always have a scent profile for him to work with, but this was a time that he did.  

Automatically, his body snapped into full awareness, his eye trained on the street below as he searched. And there he was, just as intel said he would be. The Soldier followed his progress on the sidewalk below, watching as the man entered his high rise apartment building. Waiting until a light in the window intel listed as his flicked on. He quickly packed his gear, strapping the bag across his back as he stood.  

Standing on the edge, he aimed and deployed the line that would take him from the building he had chosen as his vantage point. Gliding silently across the distance, he rolled as he landed, on his feet and darting across the roof to the access point. It didn't take him long to gain access to the apartment. Even less time to eliminate the target. Gathering the data and the clean up took a little longer. But from the point he sighted the target to the point he was back across and landing on the roof of his starting point, less than 20 minutes had elapsed.  

He double checked that he had left no evidence behind of where he had hidden, checked to make sure all his weapons and tools were secure. Satisfied, The Soldier jogged across the roof towards the opposite side and focused on his return back to base.  

Nearly three quarters of a kilometer away from the target's building the wind shifted, blowing across his face as he paused to decide on the best possible route out of the city. His whole body went taut as a wire, stiffening as that scent he had caught briefly two days ago slammed into him. For a long moment, his body and mind warred with each other. And then he turned in the opposite direction he had intended to go, following the scent.  

His mind was a single track now, the need to mate overwhelming and shoving everything else out. But he didn't want just any omega. No, he needed this omega . In a way his body hadn't needed one in he didn't even know how long. As her scent got stronger in his nose, as he tracked her, heat coursed through him. Despite the drugs that had worked for decades, his body was racing fast towards the first rut he would have in nearly 50 years.