• ELEVEN •

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1961

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1961

"Frank. I cannot do this. Please." Cassandra begged after reading the mission file.
"I'm sorry, but you're the only person who has personal connections with any of these girls."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She let a tear slip down her face. It was fake, but she knew that trying to negotiate with him wouldn't work, so she put her acting skills to use.

"Cassandra. I've seen that before. You can't trick me, you are going on this mission."

Cassandra sighed angrily. Frank told her that she wouldn't be carrying weapons or have any disguises. She would speak in Russian, it was going to be a peaceful meeting. Well, as peaceful as you could be with Russian Assassins.

Cassandra made sure she had a small handgun in her skirt, and knives in her sleeves just in case.




••••••••••••••




Cassandra's feet landed in the soft snow. She breathed in the rigid, cold air, shaking the falling snowflakes out of her carefully done hair. The boots she had chosen to wear made tracks on the front steps to the academy.

She smoothed her skirt out, and tugged her blazer father down her body. This was almost like a family-reunioun in a way, assuming her instructors were still alive. Cassandra felt that need for perfection again, and checked the compact mirror in her blazer pocket, making sure no hairs on her head were out of place.

Cassandra placed her hand in the knocker on the large door. She hit the wood three times before it opened.

"Доброе утро, агент Барнс." A woman with dark hair and familiar blue eyes greeted her.
"Точно так же мадам Козлова." Cassandra returned.
"We have a special assembly for the girls today," Madame Kozlova said.
"Lovely."

The two women walked side by side in the dark hallway. Madame Kozlova let her in through a pair of double doors, and into the auditorium.

"This place hasn't changed at all since I was here." She said under her breath.
"Students, please welcome Agent Cassandra Barnes of Hydra."

The girls clapped, until she held her hand up and gave a commanding smile. She stood where she could face all of the girls, and she noticed the younger ones were more in the back of the room. Smart. Put the older ones up in the front. Show their skill, leave the younger ones to think they are useless.

"I was one of you once. 1935, the previous director of Hydra, Johann Schmidt, was calling us up to test our skill, our strength. And I was chosen. Now, we've decided to continue this ritual, for lack of a better word. I see you have all changed into your sparring uniforms, so what are we waiting for? First up, can I have Miss Emilia Alekseeva come forward?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Lovely."
"First, we start with the trial of intelligence. Miss Alekseeva, how many languages do you know?"
"Seventeen ma'am."

Cassandra nodded her head in approval.

"I will ask a few questions, you will answer them accordingly. We can start in English. What is the current population of America?"
"One hundred, eighty-three point seven million people in the United States."
"Qui est l'actuel président de la France?"
"Charles de Gaulle."






•••••••••••••••••••






Cassandra finished the testing soon after. She thought long and hard about the decision, not really wanting to throw another girl into the life she'd been forced into. But they'd already been forced into that life.

"Hydra has chosen Miss Anastasia Varlova."

The girl with red hair looked serious, strong, perfect for Hydra.

As she walked to the car she had come in, she stopped, hearing something. She slid the knives hidden in her sleeves out, gripping them by the brown handles. Cassandra stood still, closing her eyes, listening for movement.

Something stirred in the bush to her left. No, something stirred in the bush to her right. She smiled wickedly, and threw a knife swiftly in the direction of the sound. The blade hit the tree in the dead center.

"I know you're there," she called out, with a sweet tone of voice.

The person watching her made no noises, but suddenly the clicking of multiple guns sounded all around her. She smiled, and put her hands up above her head.

"Cassandra Barnes, you are under arrest." The voice of a man said.

She slipped another knife from her sleeve, but was stopped by a British accent she hadn't heard in sixteen years.

"Uh, uh. Put the knife on the ground Cassandra."

She sighed and dropped the knife in the snow. She turned to face the sound of the British voice. All the people surrounding her tensed, ready to shoot, even though they didn't. She could take all of their guns from their hands, and maybe only get shot by one person.

"Hi Peg. It's been a while hasn't it?"

Handcuffs were slapped around her wrists, and she was pushed into the back of a truck. She sat quietly in the back, squished between two men, one with a crutch and graying hair, and one with hair that was a soft shade of red.

Nobody seemed to realize that she could have other weapons somewhere. If she were to take everyone in this plane down, and direct it back to Hydra, she would start with the man with the crutch. He had the disadvantage, only one leg worked. Then, she'd go for the red head. He was the youngest, less experienced. In any case, she'd leave the pilot last, to scare him into turning the plane around. She didn't have an idea of what she would do with Peggy, but she would figure that out when the time came.

A few hours later, Cassandra was tired. If she tried to speak, all you would understand would be incoherent nonsense. But she knew better than to fall asleep in a plane full of enemies, so she stayed awake.












peggy's back baby!!
now, i don't think that the gif up top works very well with the chapter, but i didn't have others that i thought would work, and i didn't feel like spending two and a half hours on pintrest, so...
love you guys 3000!!-

love you guys 3000!!-

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