Chapter 17

8 2 4
                                    

Song: Stick Up by Grandson

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"The wage he's paid's insanity,
every day he's dealing with
a new calamity."

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Soldier sat in the back of a van, heavily disguised by the van's white coat of paint and DirecTV logo on the side. He sat, the earpiece in his ear, waiting for instructions to either head out to his designated location or stay put.

Soldier figured he was in a big city, though he didn't know which one; S.H.I.E.L.D. had many locations, after all. Big, shiny buildings surrounded him on all sides, and he was parallel parked against a sidewalk. He hadn't seen buildings this modern in. . . well, ever, he supposed. It really was remarkable. They reached so high they even blocked the sun from shining in his windows, helping to keep his car relatively cool.

He had to duck low as several people walking by tried to peer into the windshield or side windows, most of them with expensive bags or dressy suits. Blending in with the van's dark interior was easy enough, however, and for the most part he just stayed leaning up against one of the van's side walls in the hollowed out back.

Static. The only thing ever in his earpiece was static, aside from the occasional "Winter Soldier, do you copy?" to which he'd give a resounding, "I copy". It was quite boring, he would have much rather been in on the action as opposed to sitting in the back of the stuffy van.

Purely out of boredom, Soldier began disassembling and reassembling his weapons he'd chosen from the jet ride here. He started with both of the handguns he'd chosen, securing one in a holster resting against each thigh. He loaded his choices of submachine guns, setting them aside for possible later use. His favorite, however, was a modified grenade launcher with a magnetic explosive grenade loaded into it. And lastly, though there was no loading to be done, he stuffed two pocket knives into his pockets, just in case. To say he felt prepared was an understatement and if it came down to it and he had to fist fight someone, he had no worries whatsoever.

Soldier had grown so bored that he removed his goggles, attempting to clean them of all smears with the sleeves of his shirt. Just as he was tackling a particularly nasty smear, he heard an obnoxiously loud crashing sound. Startled, he wormed his way to the front of the van to try and see where the noise had come from. He couldn't see anything, however, so he pressed the button on his earpiece and put his goggles back on. "What's going on?" he asked, still staring out the windshield.

"We've got Fury cornered, it looks like. But stay on hold," a voice said.

"Copy that." All Soldier wanted was to go out and do something, and he was growing frustrated. He squirmed in his seat, anxiously awaiting further instruction, hoping he'd be called on to help. Several people ran by his car and, oddly enough, towards the source of the loud noises. Idiots, he thought to himself. Who would run towards the sound of a crash?

The sound of acorns falling on a tin roof sounded and Soldier froze, confused. There weren't any trees near him, so what was making that sound? It was horribly loud, sounding exactly like a machine gun. Perhaps they finally got Fury, he figured.

"Scratch that - Fury's escaped. Still in the car, a boxy black sedan, headed in your direction. Shattered windows, can't miss it. Be ready," the voice came back in, a sense of urgency behind it.

Soldier didn't respond, his heart pounding with excitement. This was his chance. He crawled to the back of the van, snatching the grenade launcher from the floor. He hopped out the back, slammed the door shut, and hurriedly made his way towards his designated location where supposedly Hydra spies would be chasing the target's car.

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