Finding Death

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Falcon

Rikki meets me back at our own hotel room and oh my God, I've never seen her look so dejected. Even after forgetting Steve (again), she was happier than she is right now. "What happened?" I ask.

Her answer is to chuck something to me: I catch the black box and turn it over in my hands. "It's his tracker," Rikki says softly. "He knows. He knows who I am and he ran anyway." It sounds like she's more upset about him choosing to hide than failing at the mission. I s'pose after all their years together it must be tough. Sorta like a break-up.

"We'll find him again. We will. I promise you," my phone buzzes in my pocket, interrupting- a message from Steve. "In the meantime, how do you feel about a trip to Detroit?"

"Depends. Is there an opportunity to send some Nazis packing?"

"Absolutely," I grin, then realise what Rikki's just said. "Wait- you remember Nazis?"

"What?"

"You said Nazis. That's how HYDRA originated in World War Two- an underground unit of Nazis."

"Maybe I'm remembering things," Rikki looks up at me, those silver flecks in her left eye glittering. "Anyhow. You said something about Detroit?"

"Let's go."

*

Captain America

'Hey, Cap, sorry we're late,' Sam's voice speaks into my war. It's true, he is late, but it's not exactly an issue.

"Glad to see you finally made it," I reply.

'Want to catch me up?'

"Clint's inside, the rest of us are on guard duty."

'I'll stay out here,' meaning, Rikki will join Clint inside the base. Probably for the best.

*

Nomad

I know I've been here before. Each step I take is one I've already done. The question is: when did I do it?

My first stop is Buck's bedroom (there's actually signposts in this place- I'm not having you on, I swear, there really is), where I find a chunky stack of letters and an old semi-automatic under the cupboard. I tuck the paper into an inside pocket but keep hold of the firearm. Just in case.

The corridors here are quiet; a cliched too quiet that makes me rather uneasy. Turns out my instincts are right: I push open a door to my left to be greeted with a roomful of footsoldiers.

Fifty armed footsoldiers.

This was not a part of the plan.

I flip one of the metal tables up as shots start firing over my head. Honestly, I think I surprised these people more than they did me. I'd probably apologise if I wasn't getting shot at.

'What's going on in there?' Sam calls.

"Can't talk, too busy trying not to bloody die!" I answer. In a moment of madness I grab a grenade from my belt, flick out the pin and chuck it backwards over my shoulder before bolting out the door amidst the chaos. The explosion rocks me- after, there's only silence. I reopen the door, instinctively coughing at the smoke that clouds my vision. Clearly, I did not think this through at all. Since they all look fairly dead - or, at least incapacitated for the time being- I leave them to it and lock the door as I leave.