MANIPULATING THE MANIPULATOR

CHAPTER NINE

I told him everything, everything he needed to know.
My encounter with Kage, his powers, how me and him had snuck into Alexander's office and read over my mothers file, how we found out she was once an asset here; The Necromancer, what I am meant to be. How she was seemingly immortal, or a vampire, how I might also be a vampire thanks to Zola's examination, the acronym.
Everything.
I had handed my information to him on a silver platter, just praying he didn't serve it to anyone else.
"So, you think you are your Mother's replacement?"
He asks quietly, making sure his voice is not much of a whisper as we walk down the halls. His footsteps were freakishly silent, like feathers embedded on the soles on his shoes. Mine felt heavy over his, so I tried to lighten them.
"She was The Necromancer, now Alexander wants me to be the 'first'?" I said just as quietly, knowing now that I wasn't going to be the first Necromancer. "I know I'm her replacement. He thought I would be like her, even better, maybe."
I said, focusing intently on our surroundings.
Honestly, I was surprised that there weren't any soldiers lurking in the halls. Yet, it was just like the Winter Soldier had said. Apparently, there were many blind spots in the facility, places people had just abandoned and left behind, and he seemed to know all of them.
I couldn't blame him. He had been here for so long, he probably could map out this entire terrain with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back.
At the simple thought of that, I felt the bile of guilt and pity rise in my stomach, but I did my best to ignore it. He was just helping me.
I didn't need to feel sorry for him, right?
Maybe I did.
I focused back to reality our trail seemed to end, and we were met by another black metal polled off cell, with a metal plaque on the metal door, reading 'Room 444'
The room looked old, not like my cell. It almost looked abandoned and discarded. Like whatever of whoever was once in there, didn't want to be remembered. Or someone had purposely chosen so.
He hadn't lied, he said he would take me here. He said he wouldn't tell a soul, he promised. Honestly, it was hard to believe when it met my ears. But maybe he wasn't as loyal as all spirited him to be. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a small part of him that destined to be...
Himself.
Whoever himself really was.
That part that had willingly helped me, gotten involved in something that could evoke consequences, and with that knowledge, got involved anyway.
I think I liked that small part.
And I think the rest of the world would too.
I was sure of it.
I let him crush the lock on the door with his metal hand with practised ease, not helping but be fascinated every time, as the door slowly creaked open, revealing a pit of darkness.
The Winter Soldier ushered me inside, flicking the switch that was just next to the door frame on the inside walls that was as tall as my shoulders, turning on a weak, sickly-yellow glow that swallowed the room, making the both of us aware of the contents inside.
Nothing.
If cobwebs in the upper corners counted, and dust on the floors. But otherwise, simply nothing. Not a worn and used bed, not a table and chair set, not a stained sink. Just the room in itself.
It felt odd, like it was meant to throw me off. Like I was meant to look at the room and give up once I found what was inside, which was not a thing. It seemed like something that my Mum would do, use reverse psychology. Or reverse-reverse psychology. Like even though the room was empty, it was really full, you just had to look in the correct places.
I stepped more into the room till I was somewhat in the middle, as my eyes scanned the wooden boards I walked on. Which, I had to admit, was odd. All the flooring in this whole facility that I had seen so far, had been concrete. So, seeing wood felt purposeful.
"It's empty."
I muttered, mostly to myself, as if I was trying to convince myself of the fact, give up and go back to bed. But no, I felt the strangest pull otherwise.
"Bullshit." The Winter Soldier finally spoke, stepping into the room and letting the metal door close behind him. "Whoever was in here, your Mother or someone else, is throwing us off."
"They're doing a good job at it, then."
My eyes paced the room, looking for anything that could give way to what we were looking for. Oddly, the flooring felt solidified, not hollow, I paced the floorboards to rectify my theory, and the Winter Soldier seemed to do the same, like he had took my thought and transferred it to his own.
"Are you sure that was what the post-it note said?"
I questioned his judgement in how he translated the words to me.
"I know fluent Russian." He said somewhat defensively. "Either they were lying or they just had bad handwriting."
I stifled a laugh, coming out as a snort instead. He stopped his movements, I stopped mine.
"What?"
His voice unfortunately went straight back to being guarded and gruff. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
"It was funny."
"What was funny?"
He asks, as if he had no genuine idea what he had said or did to make me laugh.
"Your words, about the handwriting."
I explained. He paused, a flash of nostalgia and pain slashing his expression before he schooled it back over.
What?
Had no one ever told him that he was funny before?
Right?
Oh.
I swallowed lightly, starting my pace again as he restarted his. Then, after a second, there was a light squeal under his left boot at the wood straining itself.
"Wait."
I said quickly and he immediately stopped his steps.
"Put pressure on that floorboard where you have your left foot."
He compiled exactly as I said, and the floorboard responded with an even louder creak. I walked over to the Winter Soldier's side, watching as he crouched down in front of the floorboard and taking his foot off of it, training his eyes on it. I mirrored his movements and he pushed me slightly behind him. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but raised when he pelted his fist into the floorboard, breaking it, but hitting his first to something inside was a loud Thump.
He winced lightly. It was a barely noticeable sound, but I had heard it well from where I was. I shifted so that I was at his side again so I could get a proper view of what the wood was concealing.
A vault.
One barely bigger than seven inches both ways, but a vault. A straight black vault with a digital code. I didn't understand why the Winter Soldier's arm couldn't penetrate through the vault, it could bend metal like air itself. So what was this made of that was able to withstand that?
That was until I noticed the silver Wakandan symbol that could be slightly revealed on the bottom edge of the side of the vault visible to us. I remembered it because the Wakandians had so generously offered all the Ivy schools, including my past school, Brown, high security. That included protected vibranium safe rooms.
Vibranium.
It was so called the strongest metal on earth, only made in Wakanda. Nowhere else.
Wakanda was involved with HYDRA now? That made no sense, Wakanda was good, HYDRA wasn't. Why would they betray their claims?
"Vibranium..." I mumbled, my eyes scanning over the vault box. "You won't be able to punch your way in this."
The Winter Soldier turned his head to my direction, his gaze questioning.
"What's vibranium?"
"The strongest metal on earth."
I said as simply as I could. In the end, I couldn't help but imagine just how much The Winter Soldier really knew about the outside world, how much HYDRA hid from him. But I pushed that thought aside.
That wasn't my business.
"Any idea what the code could be?"
"Nope."
I said in slight defeat. Why would I know? We didn't even know who had put this vault there, who was responsible for the post-it note in the first place. It could have been my Mum, or it could have been a completely different person that no one - at least not us - knew about.
If it was my Mum, what would she put as the code? Either something so obvious, or something that you would think is obvious, but take it as not. She always liked to play people's minds, twist them and confuse them. Manipulate them. It was shocking I was barely only realising that now. I decided to go with the painfully obvious.
"17.03" I said, it was her birthday. The 17th of March. "Her birthday."
He nodded curtly and punched the numbers in and pressed the enter putin to the side, and the rim that surrounder the digital keyboard flashed red.
Incorrect.
I looked around the room as if it would spike an idea in my mind. As I did so, the Winter Soldier put in another set of numbers that I was too busy looking around to catch my eye. I looked back to him and then the keyboard, watching as the rim flashed green and the lock popped open, but not enough to open the vault.
"What did you put in?"
"444, the room number."
See? Painfully obvious.
That was either done by my Mum or some idiotic soldier.
The Winter Soldier plied open the vault's hatch, revealing much white paper tissue.
As if I was opening a fucking present my third cousin a grandma decided to make for me when I was thirteen.
He plunged his metal hand deep into the tissue, took it out slowly to show a book.
It was a simple book, the cover was a red leather with a golden rim around the whole cover, butting pop at the spin and starting over again at the back. The title was simple and written in a typewriter font.
'Find One, Search in place of many.'
Sounded like an odd book title, it also had no another anywhere, or no symbol of its being published or had any blurb of any sorts.
"Weird book."
I mumbled, taking the book from the Winter Soldier's hands. I noticed the light flinch that shook his body when our fingers accidentally grazed, but I thought none of it.
I flicked over the pages with grace and they all had nothing on it. That was, till the last eight pages.
First page: G - 23; 154
Second page: I - 243; 86
Third page: V - 401; 66
Forth page: E - 45; 431
Fifth page: S - 79; 32
Sixth page: Blank
Seventh page: I - 98; 61
Eighth page: N - 01; 37
Excuse the fuck me?
It was the same acronym that was on the back of that post-it note.
GIVES IN
I didn't understand what the number meant, but my mind raced with possibilities.
Another code?
Coordinates?
Directions?
Amount of soldiers to patients?
A puzzle?
Goddamn it, anything.
It could be anything.
"Well, this is the deadest of all dead ends."
I said with a small groan, handing the book back to the Winter Soldier.
"Not necessarily."
He says simply, flicking back over to all of the pages that have the words and numbers.
"What do you mean?" I questioned. "It's just a bunch of numbers."
"Nothing is just numbers." He said, his fingers gliding over the paper's edges. "I have a theory, but I can't tell you now." He says and my eyebrows furrow. "Meet me in the library."
"This place has a library?"
I asked. HYDRA didn't seem like the place to have any entertainment facilities.
"Something like that."
"I can't, the guards wouldn't let me out of my cell."
"I'll get you out, say I'm getting some more hours of your training in."
I could never, for the life of me, understand what was going over inside his mind. He concealed that fact too well.
I don't think anyone could.
"Why are you doing this? Getting involved?"
I finally questioned.
"Because you're involved. And it's a dangerous feat..." He trailed off. "Doing this in a place where they expect you to do nothing but comply."
He says, finally taking his gaze off the book and solidifying his blue-grey eyes on mine.
"And to hell I don't protect you from complying," He spoke, his voices laced with what may be possessiveness and pain, maybe he wasn't so emotionless. "especially when I had no one to protect myself."