I'm Here | ✓

46 - Corpse

"Do you think this is an ambush?"

I shrug in response, mulling it over. "Probably, but I've got, like, 5 guns, so I don't much care."

"Good. I'm glad we agree on that." Steve shoves open the car door and I follow suit, scanning every visible window from this side of the apartment building. There are some potted flowers and a curious cat eyeing us from the second floor, but nobody is watching us. Great.

Steve keeps his shield tight on his arm and I rest a hand on the Glocks sitting comfortably in their respective holsters on each side of my belt. He creeps toward the front door and I glance around, watching everything, seeing every movement. It made me feel a bit more like the Winter Soldier, but I was using what Hydra taught me as a way to fight back against them. I was doing this under my own free will, and if that surveillance is the thing that keeps us safe, then I'm glad I'm using it.

When we enter the lobby, it's surprisingly quiet and smells a little bit like stale water.

We stare around for a second in confusion, but mostly, I'm scanning for cameras. It's startlingly devoid of those too, and I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

"So, Hydra currently runs its operations from a building as old as we are," I joke, and my voice sounds wrong and misplaced in this weird apartment.

Steve sends me a look I can't quite interpret. "Sam said the first agent's room was on the third floor, room 312."

I give a nod of confirmation and scan the room one more time as I step backward towards the stairs. "This is weird. I feel like there should be people here, but at the same time, it feels too normal to ever have anything to do with a Nazi terrorist organization."

Steve's eyebrows draw closer in worry. "Yeah. I don't know what to make of it."

Slowly, we pace up the stairs. Steve holds his shield just below his eyes, and I watch him as he advances up the staircase. He's going so slow and being so careful that I actually stop on the landing, letting my arms hang at my sides in mock exasperation. "Can you walk any faster?" I ask, and he glances down at me, his mouth curling up into a nervous smile.

"Yeah, sorry. Guess I'm just worried about what we'll find."

I turn around and gesture to the rifle strapped across my back. "Hopefully, somebody that likes a side of bullets with their dinner."

"We're not here just to shoot people, Buck. We're just here to investigate." Steve turns and continues up the stairs at a slightly faster pace, though his muscles are still tense, waiting for an attack.

"I know, I know, look for clues. I just haven't used a knife in too long..." I say, trailing off as I follow him. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. I don't know what I'm expecting, but I think I'm afraid of it. "If the agents are actually dead, then why are we coming here? Whoever left the note at our apartment sure didn't leave any signs of entry or exit."

"I'm hoping we'll find somebody who can give us answers. A neighbor or something, maybe."

I groan a little bit and flip my switchblade around in my hand as we walk up the stairs. God, so many stairs. They creak under our feet, which ruins the point of our surprise entry, and I can't deny that I am a tiny bit nervous. This isn't really a mission, though, just collecting information. That's it.

Then why am I holding a knife?

Finally, we make it up to the third floor and Steve glances around the halls before giving me a small all clear nod. I keep my hand on my gun and motion down to the door marked 312, the two long since fallen off, leaving a pale outline of the number in its place. I shake my head. This is a serious downgrade.