Traceur

•13•

Autumn's POV
I rest in the windowsill of Pierce's kitchen, my right leg dangling and my left leg bent and pressed to my chest as I lean against the cold glass. My left arm rests over my knee, and my right arm supports me. And, slung across my back, my rifle gleams darkly.

Pierce ambles into the kitchen, and I watch his movements closely, examining his posture now that he's not holding up his high and mighty act as the leader of HYDRA. He's actually looking pretty relaxed; more like the older man he is than a fearless, sly leader.

A woman's voice rings out- Renata, his housekeeper. "I'm going to go, Mr. Pierce. You need anything before I leave?"

Pierce's eyes flicker to us, noticing us for the first time. "No, uh...it's fine, Renata, you can go home."

"Okay! Night-night."

"Good night," Pierce replies, and waits til after the front door shuts before turning to us.

"Want some milk?"

I don't reply, and neither does Winter, who's sitting at Pierce's dining room table. We've never been allowed to make decisions before...so why is he asking us if we want milk?

Pierce smirks, before turning serious again. "The timetable has moved. Our window is limited. Two targets, Level Six." He pours himself a glass of milk, then moves to join Winter at the table, passing me as he does so. "They already cost me Zola. I want confirmed death in two hours."

Suddenly, footfalls sound from the doorway to the kitchen, and Renata steps in, not seeing Winter and I.

"Sorry Mr. Pierce," she apologizes, "I..." she suddenly sees us, her eyes flirting from me to Winter. My lips twitch in amusement at her shocked face beneath my mask, which covers the bottom half of my face and is shaped like a pair of hands, symbolizing silencing me.

"...I...I forgot my phone," she stutters, and Pierce sighs, grabbing the gun that he has attached to the bottom of his table.

"Oh, Renata," he mumbles. "I wish you would've knocked."

Pierce pulls the trigger, and with a blood- splattered 'BANG!', Renata falls dead.

...

I stalk inside the HYDRA base, my eyes unfocused, but I manage to follow Winter back to our cell.

We sit on opposite sides, our silence held in the air for different reasons.

I'm exhausted, mentally and physically. Levi's been thrashing around in the back of my head, causing me a migraine. She keeps telling me 'not to hurt them'. Why shouldn't I? I do have orders, after all. Just because she knows them doesn't mean I have to spare them.

I then try to sympathize, for once in my life. Well, I mean, in the section of my life that I remember. After being wiped so many times, I can barely remember anything. Levi doesn't have the same problem. She can remember everything, because really, it is like we are separate people, just sharing one body. It's confusing, and I can't even begin to imagine how it works, but I sympathize with her. She can't kill human beings without feeling a twinge of regret. She's...our livelier side. I'm the darker side. She has people she loves. I...can't even imagine that kind of feeling. She's build relationships with these people, and I'm wiping them out.

That's when I make the decision. I won't kill Steven Rogers. I won't kill Natasha Romanoff. I won't kill Samuel Wilson. I'll do one good thing for my other side, and I'll probably be punished for it, but it seems like the right things to do. Even though, throughout my life, HYDRA has been doing the right thing, they're not here. If Levi loves these people, I won't kill them. I can't. So I won't. Even if I have nothing personal with them, she does. So, HYDRA will just have to deal with that.

...

I wait on top of the vehicle that a HYDRA official is driving. Wilson's tiny car is right up ahead, and I'm ready to leap onto it.

Hey, I promised not to kill them. But I doesn't mean that I won't carry out my mission.

"Now!" Winter yells over the sound of the wind rushing through my ears. I tense, then push off from the roof, soaring onto the top of the car's trunk. Winter follows, landing soundly on the roof of the car. He plunges his hand through the backseat window and pulls out a thrashing Agent Sitwell, who we know released classified HYDRA information. In the spurt of the moment, Winter's eyes crinkle playfully, and he tosses the screaming man to me. I catch Sitwell with one hand, and he scrabbles at my arm with his hands.

"Please! Don't kill me! They wanted to kill me!"

I narrow my eyes. "Hail HYDRA!" I snap, before throwing him in front of a semi-truck two lanes over, relishing in the spray of blood that mists over my body as he hits the grille and dies instantly.

The sudden bang of a gun shakes me from my moment of satisfaction, and I lunge across the passenger side of the vehicle, punching through the window and wrestling the gun from Romanoff. The car screeches to a stop, and I'm thrown off the roof, the world twirling around. I make out the road in the blur, and angle my body towards it, landing in a back-handspring. I stalk towards the car as Winter slowly stands up from his spot in the middle of the road, and pause beside him, watching as the HYDRA truck rams into their car from the back. I realize that Winter also yanked out the steering wheel, and huff with approval. Now, they can't really do anything besides leave the car.

And they do. Rogers tackles Romanoff and grabs Wilson, and the three of them tumble onto the pavement.

Winter and I take chase, with the HYDRA agents circling around the bridge. I start shooting at Wilson- the only one who doesn't know who I am, or, hasn't recognized me yet- and glance over at Winter when Romanoff shoots at his face. Thankfully, it just cracks his goggles.

"Она у меня. Найди его,"  (She is mine. Find him.)

I block the round of bullets Wilson shoots at me, and he turns his head to look down off the overpass at Romanoff. "Go! I got this!"

Romanoff mouths something to Wilson- I don't waste the time to see what- and I see the confusion and shock in Wilson's face.

"What?!"

He turns back to me, and I run at him, my goggles cracking slightly when a misplaced bullet hits them. HYDRA made these goggles specially for Winter and I, since blind assets aren't best for sniping from afar. Also, they don't want any bullets in our heads before we can bring peace to humanity.

"Shit, shit, shit!" He squeals, and I twist to avoid his next round of fire, before rolling under a car to get behind him, and then tackling him from behind.

"Agh!"

He suddenly lifts off, small jets or something firing from under his wings. I cling on for my life as he spirals upwards, looping in circles and flying upside and performing corkscrews,  trying to shake me off, but all in vain. I maneuver my arms into the naked backhand choke- a useful Jiu Jitsu move- and loop my legs under his arms, secured tightly onto his upper half. He gags, no more air in his lungs, and I smirk.

I'll just choke him until he passes out, I remind myself. I won't kill him.

But between my instincts and orders, who knows what'll happen? Who knows if I'll slip into killer mode...the less favored between my diplomatic and homicidal sides. When I'm triggered, I become completely emotionless, and will listen to any command, with no room for thoughts of my own. I even yearn to shed blood; I was slightly triggered when I threw Sitwell in front of the semi-truck, and that's why I loved the spray of blood.

However, despite my attempts of fighting it back, red starts hazing over the corners of my vision.

...
Wassup? Also, I'm trying to edit Sam out of the ENTIRE LAST BOOK, just so they can have their cute meeting in this one BC sometimes I just make abrupt decisions.

Like right now.

So I'm kinda replacing him with Rhodey. Sorry, Sammy. Don't worry, nobody's goanna forget ya.