The Asset

Chapter 6

The world had gone white. He came awake all at once, imagining that he was still running, her name still on his lips. But his hands found only glass, his breath fogging against it. It closed in on him from all sides, his fists clenching and unclenching, pounding futilely as he choked on a wordless scream.

Not again. He was back in his stasis pod. Back where Hydra wanted him. Back where he belonged. It was enough to drive him beyond horror, beyond rage, beyond sense. But the most terrifying thought was still to come. How long?

Royce had injected her, had let her fall. He remembered lunging at the man, ready to snap his neck, certain of just how easy it would be. And then there was there nothing.

No, not nothing. Sputnik. The word reverberated in his mind, realization dawning slowly. It was an old Soviet trick – implanting a phrase into the operative's subconscious that, when spoken, would trigger certain imperatives. In this case, a kill switch. Again, they'd turned his mind against him.

He'd never been free. He thought he could make amends, thought he could fight back, but it had all been a lie, another trick. And now they had Natalia.

He breathed slowly, in and out, deep and focused. He'd never woken up inside the stasis chamber before. Usually they had him on the table, already preparing him for whatever horrors he was meant to commit. This must be what it felt like to be buried alive. And that's exactly what they had done – taken Natalia and buried him.

But he wasn't cold. He wasn't wet. The pod was dizzyingly cramped, the glass reinforced and unyielding, but the breath that fogged against it was warm. They hadn't frozen him, only locked him inside. Pressing his palm to the glass, he wiped away the haze.

Natalia! She was slumped in the chair, still connected to the machine that had wiped his mind so many times before. She was alone, as far as he could tell, the device switched off. He pounded on the glass, but she didn't stir. Damn it! He had to get out of here.

Something moved to his right, beyond Natalia. They'd put Barton in chains, strung him up from the ceiling by his wrists. He was awake now, straining against his bonds as he tried to get to her. It was no use.

Then, as he watched, Barton grabbed the chain above him, pulling himself up. They'd left his feet free, given him enough slack to climb the chain like a rope. The effort still cost him. The veins in his arms bulged, his teeth grinding. Bucky pounded on the glass.

"Yeah, I hear ya. Little busy." With a grunt Barton managed to swing his legs up and pull something from his boot. Then he locked his ankles around the chain and squinted in Bucky's direction. "Just... hang on to something."

The impact was explosive. The reinforced glass took the brunt of it, the pod toppling over on its side. But the crack had been made. Bucky got what leverage he could and punched through.

By the time he pulled himself out, Barton had gotten out of his shackles.

"Grenade?"

"Explosive arrow. Or arrowhead. Always keep a spare." He knelt beside Natalia.

Bucky smoothed back her hair and started peeling the sensors from her forehead.

"Are you sure that's safe? Just pulling her out like that?"

He wasn't sure. But that didn't matter. They were leaving. "Machine's off. Whatever they did is done." They'd get her back to SHIELD, what was left of it. Their doctors had helped him, had cleared him. And they'd been wrong. But it was their only shot.

"Nat?" Barton leaned close. "I think she's coming around."

She was alive. Bucky lifted her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest. Barton gave him a questioning look.