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CHAPTER XXVI. Trust Issues
One of Elina's least favorite things about being on the run was the ever-present fear of getting caught. It was a scenario she had always managed to avoid-until now. The weight of their capture hung heavy in the air, a bitter reminder that even the best-laid plans could unravel. As she sat in the back of the transport van, the cold metal floor pressing against her, Elina let her head fall back in defeat, the exhaustion of the day settling deep into her bones. The uncertainty of what awaited them at headquarters gnawed at her, each passing moment dragging them closer to an unknown fate that she feared would be far worse than she could imagine.
Around her, the atmosphere was thick with despair. The group, usually so resilient, seemed crushed by the weight of their failure. Heads hung low, shoulders slumped, and the silence was deafening, broken only by the soft hum of the van's engine. Elina glanced at Steve, who seemed especially burdened, his expression distant and pained.
"It was him," Steve finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He looked right at me like he didn't even know me."
Elina could see the hurt in Steve's eyes, the confusion that clouded his mind. Sam, trying to make sense of it all, shook his head in disbelief. "How is that even possible? It was, like, 70 years ago."
Steve's eyes darkened as he muttered, "Zola. Bucky's whole unit was captured in '43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did must have helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and..."
"None of that's your fault, Steve," Sam interjected, trying to offer some comfort. But the words felt hollow, and Steve's gaze remained fixed on the floor, lost in the torment of what could have been.
Elina sat in silence, absorbing the gravity of what Steve had just revealed. She had always thought the Winter Soldier was just another creation of the KGB, a weapon forged in the crucible of Soviet power. But she was wrong. He was a product of HYDRA's twisted experiments, a man out of time, trapped in a fate he never asked for.
"I'm sorry," Elina whispered, though she knew her words could do little to ease the pain Steve was feeling. He acknowledged her with a small nod, but his eyes never left the floor, his mind consumed by the ghosts of his past.
The oppressive silence was shattered when Sam turned to Natasha and Blake, both of whom were clearly suffering from their injuries. Natasha's face was pale, and Blake winced with every movement. "We need to get a doctor here. If we don't help their wounds, they'll die right here in the truck."
Before Sam could say more, one of the guards pulled out an electric baton, the crackling sound of the current filling the small space. The guard then turned on the other, knocking them out.
