Who Killed Jack Thompson?

Chapter 8

There was nothing regarding the Red Room trainers on file, and the fact that Hydra could still exist made the matter even more pressing.

Everything Steve died for was still out there. Peggy couldn't help but think that he could have not crashed his plane. He could be alive, with her, and happy. It was almost like the war wasn't even over. She secretly wished that he would walk through the door at anytime and say, "We're going to eliminate Hydra." He would probably be nervous about Peggy's reaction, but as soon as she agreed to join in, he would snap into his heroic disposition. She wondered what Steve would do if he found out she kept a picture of him with her. She also wondered how jealous Daniel would be.

Suddenly the radio in the corner beeped, receiving a transmission. She rolled her chair over to the speaker in order to hear better. Dugan's deep voice came through the static saying, "We found a man carrying a gun like the one the killer had. And get this, he had a tattoo. With that Russian word for flight." Peggy exclaimed, "Did you capture him?" Dugan chuckled. "Of course I did," he stated cockily. "I'll arrange a flight back. What are your coordinates?" Peggy asked, getting out a sheet of paper and a pen. Dugan gave her a lengthy description of the field where they waited, and Peggy hurriedly wired the information to Howard.

---

Peggy, Daniel, Dottie, and Dugan stood on the other side of the two way mirror, watching their prisoner. He was a tall, stocky man, with bloodshot eyes and multiple tattoos that snaked up his arms and eventually up to his neck. He sneered at the glass, despite not being able to see them. "I'll go first," Daniel offered, "and if things go south, Underwood, you get in there."

Daniel walked in confidently despite his lame leg. No one could hear him on the opposite side of the glass, however, but it didn't look like it was going anywhere. The prisoner kept silent with his arms crossed. "Did you get a name on him?" Carter asked, without breaking a stare. Dugan shook his head. "I know him," Dottie said, and for the first time, the assassin sounded weak. "That's Isaac Kuznetsov."

---

Dottie replaced Daniel in the interrogation room, and whether she was filled with hatred or fear, no one could tell. They spoke in Russian.

"Do you remember me?" Dottie asked, sauntering into the room with fire in her eyes.

The man grunted with a smirk on his face. "I remember all of my assets." The way he said 'assets' sent a chill down Dottie's spine, and the sneer on his face made her want to throw up.

"You know, a friend of mine is dead," Dottie said, walking in front of the desk to hide her rage. "He was killed with a Russian gun, just like the one you were carrying. And the gun had one word on it. Flight. I want to know who killed him." She was good; almost too good.

He chuckled. "Somodorov's girls don't have friends," he said, shaking his head.

Dottie shot him an evil look, "This one does," she said.

"I'm not telling you anything, little duckling." Kuznetsov spat. Dottie glared at him, frozen. She was either going to attack, or cry. "I'll be back. You'll talk then," she said, leaving the room.

---

Dottie ordered that he be imprisoned until further questioning. Something he had said had caused her a great deal of pain. The Red Room had trained her not to feel emotions, but something he uttered back in the interrogation had shorted her circuit.

An interpreter had taken notes of the interrogation, but Agent Carter failed to understand them. The next day, at the office, Dottie and Peggy were lightly conversing over a cup of tea. She swallowed her sip, and asked Dottie, "What did he say to you?" Dottie shook her head, "It doesn't matter." Peggy set her cup down, leaned forward, and said quietly, "Yes it does, Miss Underwood. It could help us find who killed Chief Thompson." Dottie looked past her out the window, and said, "Little duckling. That's what he said."

Dottie got up and closed the blinds, and continued to tell her her story.

"I was in love, back at the Red Room when I was a teenager. His name was James Sokolov. He trained me after Kuznetsov was banned for...inappropriate actions. He was wonderful, although he was about ten years my senior. Blue eyes, dark hair, and so sweet. He would often come watch me practice my ballet before fighting lessons." Dottie told, looking at her lap. Even without further words, Peggy knew this would be a tragic story.

"He used to call me malen'kiy utenok. Little duckling for my blonde hair. We had plans to run away together after my training. But, all good things must come to an end. I was sent to the States, and I never saw James again." A tear fell from Dottie's eye and she wrung her hands in her lap.

"Why would Kuznetsov bring that up? How did he know?" Peggy curiously asked. Dottie exhaled, "Everyone knew. The used it to embarrass me. I was sent to the States because I was an embarrassment to the academy."

Peggy never knew this side of Dottie Underwood. She just assumed she was the insane woman who lived next door. Now that she knew this unfortunate story, she had a whole new respect for Dottie. Jack wasn't the only one who needed closure.