The Soldat, The Captain and The Asset

1.10: The Betrayal

-March 1995-

The Soldat punches the bag into the other side of the room, watching as the Asset waits, his eyes tracing over her form, sometimes he comes over to correct her form silently. He's always silent, a mask on his face. The Soldat looks up at him when he comes over again, her arms hanging to the side, stepping back slightly, letting blood drip onto the ground. She reaches for the mask, unbuckling it from his face and throwing it to the ground, tracing his lips with her finger, not minding the slightly greasy feeling that it leaves on her index finger.

The Asset's eyes look at her, tilting his head slightly in confusion. He goes to reach back for his mask when she takes his hand, intertwining her hand in his, shaking her head slightly with a sly smile on her face. She strokes his fingers carefully, leaning her head towards him before moving back when he doesn't react. His eyes follow her movements when she backs away, standing near the door, her hangs going back to hang, subconsciously fidgeting with her fingers. She opens her mouth but quickly shakes her head. Her eyes drift away in thought before looking back at him.

"Do you..." She hesitates, her voice just above the normal monotone that they both know they should always have. "How did we get here? Why are we here?" She asks, looking the man in the eyes, her eyes plane and dark, just like they always are, just like his always are. "I mean... we never get told." She looks at his expression, coming slightly closer. She looks in his eyes, at his plain face. "I know what you're gonna say, that weapons don't ask questions, but you're not a handler, so I assume it might be safe."

His eyes widen, realising she's speaking in English. They aren't meant to speak in English. "Вы говорите по-английски (Russian: You're speaking in English)." He comes closer and takes her hand, bringing them closer to his body, stroking the knuckles of her hand.

"We're not Russian." The Soldat replies, closing her eyes, a headache forming as visions flicker through her mind. She shakes her head, pushing them away. "You have an American accent and I'm black. Russian's aren't black." She grips his hands tightly and securely, as if letting go would cause her to slip through. She smacks him in the face, causing him to stumble a few paces backwards. "The other agents...they have names. We don't. Does your mind not realise how that could be wrong?" She grabs his head. "People have names. Not Asset or Soldat, proper names like Ivan or Vladimir."

He sighs, rubbing his head. "We are not people." He replies in English, and for some reason it seems easier on his tongue than speaking in Russian was. He's confused at that but he doesn't let it show. He looks away, thinking, trying to think back to understand what she might mean with what she is saying. "Weapons don't have names. We are weapons."

She huffs, standing back in frustration. "No we aren't." She picks up a gun from the table that they had been practising with earlier. "This is a weapon. A tool, it isn't a living thing. Weapon's aren't living organisms. Your name is Bucky, you are a person, please." She sounds desperate. "You said the shallows wouldn't kill us, and the deep can't swallow us. But you're letting it swallow you, don't. We are not weapons." She's almost shouting but the Asset grabs her arms tightly, pushing her back against the wall.

He looks her in the eyes. "No, you're malfunctioning, we need to fix that." He grabs her arm tightly as she protests, forcing her out of the training room and down the hall, into a more lab-like room. He drags her as she kicks and screams to a metal chair, like the one from before, strapping her in and backing away. She looks at him in betrayal and fear, panting, her eyes looking at the contraption above her. "You need help, the doctor will be here momentarily to give you that help."

She panics slightly, shifting in the restraints in panic as a man in a white lab coat comes up to her. "Please." She begs. "Please don't wipe me again, you won't win. My mind fights back."