Her Prisoner

Chapter 1

The next day, Steve is kept locked up for endless hours with the sole company of an armed agent watching him with his forefinger laying on the trigger. A very silent armed agent.

Steve knows it is his punishment for his misdemeanor the day before.

Eventually, he hears the soft sound of heels reverberating along the hallway. The door opens and it is the woman with the bright red hair.

She looks different. Her hair is more loosely styled in a wavy bob. She is wearing an outfit belonging to a trend totally unknown to him: black denim trousers, with high leather boots and a masculine leather jacket, perfectly fit to her body figure.

She grins at Steve and, without detaching her gaze, instructs the guard to unshackle him then to leave the room in Russian. She waits to hear the door close behind her before acknowledging he is out.

Steve looks up at her.

"I am agent Romanoff," she begins. "I'm sorry our first encounter was so...abrupt," she begins.

"I think you're making a mistake on the person. I have no reason to be here."

She pouts slightly and begins to recite: 

"Captain Steven Grant Rogers. Born July 4th, 1918 in Brooklyn to the nurse Sarah and the soldier Joseph Rogers, confirmed killed in action during World War I. After multiple unsuccessful attempts, you finally enlist into the army in 1942 thanks to Doctor Abraham Erskine from the Strategic Scientific Reserve for Project Rebirth in order to determine who could be the best candidate for his Super Soldier S—."

"That's enough," he says coolly.

"And I thank you for it. Your file is quite wordy." She smiles and comes closer. "And I would rather get straight to the real topic, Captain."

"Why are you keeping me here?" he asks.

"I assure you this isn't permanent. I just want to make sure that you are ready first."

"Ready for what?"

She bites her bottom lip. "You see, I'm very sorry for yesterday's little act. You have to excuse my men for their lack of expertise in baseball. This isn't exactly the national sport, here."

Her light tone fuels his frustration. And she knows it very well. "We were simply trying to make it easier for you, rather than rip the band-aid right away."

He stands up suddenly. "Enough games! Tell me what is going on."

Romanoff arches an eyebrow. "Anger is not the best foundation to build such an announcement on."

Fury takes over him and he pins her against the wall, clenching his forearm over her chest, just below her chin. "No more lies." His warm breathing is grazing her face.

The anger is setting his eyes on fire but he is actually begging for answers. Her pupils dive into his and see it too.

The door bursts open and the guard is back in the room. She placidly gives him orders. Steve understands the word "stop".

"Captain Rogers," she starts with a calm but stern voice. "You saw what I am capable of yesterday. We're only in this position now because I have allowed it."

Her green eyes are steady and unwavering. "I want to tell you the truth but first, you need to show me that you are ready for it. We are being watched," she continued, pointing to a very camera surveillance device in the corner of the ceiling, "and your welfare is those people's priority." She gazes into his eyes again. "As it is mine."

He doesn't believe a word but he needs to know. This is his priority. He'd rather hear her truth than hear none.

His breathing goes at a slower pace and he slowly pulls his arm away. She does not move, not jumping on the opportunity to break free. Instead, she wordlessly commands him to go back to his seat. With the most serene facial expression. A face made of marble; beautiful and cold.

He sits on the chair again and she waits a few seconds before sitting across from him.

"You are a clever man," she says. "And you probably noticed that many things around here are off."

His pupils nervously sweep across the room. He thinks of the last thing he remembers.

"Did it work?" he can't help but ask with growing anguish. "The plan. Did I manage to keep the civilians safe?"

Agent Romanoff pauses for a short moment, as a sudden surge of amazement goes across her face. She smiles earnestly.

"Yes, Captain. You saved everyone." Her voice is genuinely reassuring. "And your story has become one of honor, bravery, and sacrifice. To this day."

After relief, perplexity follows. "Then how am I here?"

She lays her forearms on the table. "The Serum kept you alive. And the ice, it preserved you. You've been asleep Cap...for almost 70 years." She pauses to let the news sink in. "Until we found you a week ago."

He instinctively looks down at his hands, at his flesh, still young and soft; at his veins throbbing underneath. "That's impossible," he says. "You're lying."

"I've brought proof."

She pulls a small gadget out of her back pocket. A rectangular glass screen. He is not sure what do with it.

She presses her finger on it and the screen goes on. She presses it a few more times to a blank page.

"This is all very complicated and I'll explain it all to you in time. But this device stores an unimaginable amount of data. You can research anything you want."

She pulls it closer to him and quietly invites him to take it and make use of it.

After many searches that led to thousands of pictures of futuristic skylines, advanced technology, and groundbreaking facts, he hands the device back to her.

"I'm sorry, Captain. I know it is an emotional shock and I do not expect you to believe it right away."

"And what am I doing here?" he asks.

She stands up and starts toward the door. "That is a truth that can wait tomorrow. Someone will bring you your meal very shortly."

"So I'm your prisoner?" he says harshly.

She turns around. "You're my guest. And a guest of honor at that. Disobey me and yes, I guess you could call yourself that."

The guard steps back inside and she gives him instructions. He does not understand them but he notices two things: the guard does not shackle him again and he guards the room from outside.