Erase My Mind

And your name is?

Blaze was wary of the Winter Soldier, yet she followed him to the airfield. She reached into her mind, doing her best to remember everything she could about the elusive assassin. His arm was metal, a deadly weapon. That was the extent of her knowledge really, the man was a phantom.

Winter had twice as many confirmed kills as she did, and he had been on assignments all over the world for decades. She wasn't sure how many places she had gone herself, her leash was always pulled tight, even on missions. While she walked, flashes of small city squares and exhibits at the Louvre museum came to mind, but the details of that mission was hazy and she gave up on pinning the location. The words had been omitted from her today. Yesterday? There was nothing concrete in her mind that was anchoring her focus, every thought and action drew her attention.

The soldier was jogging now, but he made no effort to let her know, leaving her to scramble after him to the airfield at the end of the road. Her leg throbbed in protest. What was she trying to remember? Winter. She needed to remember something about Winter. The Winter Soldier was... just that. No name, no alias, no identity. They were one and the same. She hadn't seen him without his mask before today, nor had she heard him speak. Maybe he can't. He was right in front of her, but remained as tangible as a ghost.

He was a big guy, a little over six feet tall, at least a head taller than her. Not that she was short at... how tall am I? She ruffled her own hair and looked back to Winter. His shoulders were wide and imposing, though his posture revealed the severity of his injuries. His human arm was sagging, the metal one hanging onto his shoulder. His right leg dragged with each step. His hair was disheveled and frizzy from the river, hanging over his eyes like a curtain. Despite everything, he continued his jog at a steady pace.

It's not like she was doing much better, keeping up with him was a challenge. Her calf was burning from the knife that had been lodged inside it, and the back of her head was pounding with a headache. It could have been a concussion, but it was hard to discern blunt force trauma from the headaches she got after being pulled out of sleep.

They made it to a small jet on the edge of the field, one designed for a pilot and a single passenger. Fast, stealthy, perfect for someone trying to disappear. They worked in silence, she went to move the blocks out from under the landing gear and sweep the belly of the jet. Winter had gotten into it to disable the tracking system. She jumped as the engines whirred to life without warning. She quickly ran up the ramp and inside, where the Soldier had already begun lifting it off the ground. She practically fell into the seat behind the soldier as they shot into the sky. He was holding the yoke with the metal arm, his right arm tucked over his stomach, his hand limp in his lap.

She wanted to ask questions. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to know how old he was. His name. His home. Anything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Even after two hours in the air, they had not spoken. She had stitched up the gash on her leg, wiping the blood away with some sanitizer towels in the bathroom at the back of the jet. She peered over Winter's shoulder, but the guy hadn't set a flight plan, he was simply flying northeast. They were over the ocean right now. She sat back in the seat with eyes closed and tried to focus her breathing. It was the best exercise to do before they put her under, almost second nature after so much practice. No matter how many times her mind was scrambled by the tubes and wires, she knew that she could meditate.
Meditate until the pain melts away, until she's asleep.

Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out. Beep in. Beep ou...BEEP.

She yelped, eyes flying open in time to see the Soldier slump down in the pilot's seat, the yoke pushed down by the weight of his metal arm. The G-forces from freefalling pulled her stomach up to her throat and it was hard to get out of the chair. She stood up on wobbly legs and yanked Winter's body back before grabbing the yoke and straightening it out, stopping their descent a few meters above the ocean. Setting the craft to autopilot and choosing a course, she decided to let the ship do the flying for them.