literature

Semper Fi Ch. 16 (Captain America: TWS)

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"Who is it?"
 "His name is Johann Schmidt." Replies Rumlow, biting his lip, "I should have told you a long time ago."
 "As in... the Red Skull?" I ask. Rumlow nods slowly, meeting my eyes to show me that he is sorry. I ignore that look, sliding out of bed and finding my uniform.
 "Diana-,"
 "You knew I'd never work for the Red Skull, so you didn't tell me."
 "They didn't tell me until you were on your way." He replied quietly, "Diana, they would have killed you for seeing who's on the Crew." He adds the last part quietly, standing up, completely nude. I keep my eyes averted and step past him.
 "I'm sleeping elsewhere until you figure out what to say to me."
 "Diana..."
 "No. You betrayed my trust. You said I'd be working for someone who wouldn't use my values against me. Now look what's happened. I'll never work for the Red Skull."  
 "Diana, listen," He says imploringly, "He's not a Nazi. He was aligned with them to get their resources, but he wasn't-,"
 "That's beside the point, Rumlow. He is a Nazi, and he is evil." I snarl, "He wanted to destroy the world to gain power."
 "So does SHIELD, they're just quieter about it." Rumlow replies, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me against him, hugging me close, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you." I take a deep breath, biting my lip and dropping my uniform on the floor. I can't loose Rumlow, not after Bucky and Steve. Rumlow wraps his arms around me tightly, kissing the top of my head.
 "I love you, Rumlow." I whisper, "I'm sorry."
 "No, it's fine. It's... it's my fault." He replies, kissing me again. I nestle in to his side, and he helps me into bed with him. The sheets are still warm, and I sigh happily.
 "I can't lose you too." I whisper, "I love you."
 "I love you too."

 In the morning, Rumlow's gone, but there is a cup of coffee on the nightstand, and a note.

Diana,
 I got called in earlier than I thought I would. I'll see you soon, you have a debriefing package in the file on the desk. I left your new uniform in the bathroom for you. You'll probably hate it, but I'm a fan.
Rumlow


I get out of bed, I'm sore. I stand up, stretch my shoulders out and go to the bathroom, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I have small bruises on my hips from Rumlow's fingers pressing in to them. I hop into the shower, turning it on, and letting the water heat up while I stand there. The heat draws out the pain in my muscles, and relaxes me. I shower quickly, washing my hair and then I jump out. I showered quickly out of habit, I'm done in three minutes flat. I grab a towel, it smells of Rumlow. I dry off, rub water from my hair, and look at the uniform I'd been left. It was low cut in the front with a stiff collar that came out to frame my face. The arms were made of metal, and I can tell there were augmentations inside of them. The pants were tight fitting, and the boots were high, with good treads on the bottom. I didn't hate the uniform, but it was very different. It fit my form. When I put it on, I smooth everything down, popping the collar so the neck doesn't come across my throat. I lace the boots, and check the augs. On the counter, there is a mask. It was black composite carbon and looked like the jawbone of a skull, with sharp teeth. I place the mask on, tightening the straps and look at myself. I am severe, and look cold. I liked it. The metal of my arms glints. I head out to the desk, check the file.

Welcome to HYDRA. We look forward to your services. We have taken a few precautions for your benefit. There is a Life Model Decoy in your current apartment who will help you get off the grid. There is a meeting in the War Room at 1000 hours.
Pierce


I check the time. It's forty five past nine and I have no idea where I'm supposed to go. I step out the door, determined to get to the first meeting early, and ram straight in to Rumlow.
 "Hey," He says, "I was just coming to get you." He looks down at me, appraising that I've not closed the throat collar, and smirks.
 "I like the change." He says, running a finger from my chin, down my neck to my collarbone. I shiver slightly, and grab his hand away.
 "I like the augs." I reply, rotating my arm in the sleeve to show him the fine structure of the metal. "Not that I need them."
 "SHIELD wants you to be the best you can be without help. Or on your own intuition... hell," He smirks, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and leading me to the War Room. "You look good though. You'll love those augs once you feel them in action."
 "Did they give you any?" I ask.
 "No, I get mine soon. Mine are going to be under the skin." He explains, gesturing to a door. "Come in here." He says. I follow him, and take a place standing beside him in front of a holographic world map. "Welcome to the War Room."
 "HYRDA is way bigger than I thought it was." I say honestly, looking at all the little red blips that indicate a HYDRA base. Rumlow nods.
 "I was shocked too." He looks at his watch, then casually places a hand on his hip, where he has a gun strapped. I look for escape routes and run through the number of steps it took to get here, and the number of steps it takes to get to the exit. Rumlow lowers his eyes to me.
 "You'll be dead in a second if you try to run." He mumbles. I lean on the table, trembling slightly and I try to still myself. Rumlow moves behind me, pressing his hips gently against mine and rubbing my arms with his hands. I lean against him, grateful for the soothing nature of his touches.
 "Welcome," says Mr. Pierce, the old SHIELD secretary. "Miss Calhoun, a pleasure."
 "Sergeant Major." I correct. He raises an eyebrow, Rumlow shoots me a warning glance, but I stare down the older man. He cracks a smile and moves towards the table.
 "I like her." He says, "Now tell me, why do you want to work for HYDRA?"
 "I've been wronged by SHIELD. You probably read the file." I look him dead in the eye, "They killed the men I served my country with. Only ten men survived to tell the tales of the fallen, and I was their highest ranking officer."
 "And now both the Braddocks work for SHIELD?" Asks Pierce. I nod my affirmation.
 "They do, because I brought them in."
 "Would they follow you?" He asks. Again I nod. I know the Braddocks. In fact, Clay knew what had happened in Afghanistan and he had no doubt, spoken with his brother.
 "And do you know about their cousin?" He's leaning back, tapping on a datapad. He hands me that datapad, and I look. It's a bio file on a man in England. His name is Brian Braddock. He has the Braddock look about him, proud and bold, and handsome. "He's called Captain Britain. He's under an Alias, and with STRIKE, which began as a SHIELD's English Equivalent." He explains, "We are trying to bring him in for the Crew." He glances over me and gives a bored expression. "I must admit, Miss-,"
 "Sergeant Major."
 "Calhoun." He bites out, "Your file does you little credit. How many confirmed Sniper kills do you have?"
 "One-Hundred and three confirmed. But I know it's two hundred and five." I reply without hesitation. He nods approvingly.
 "But you prefer to be in the field."
 "I don't like being apart from the ones I'm trying to protect." Is all I say. Rumlow has his eyes lowered in a way that tells me he's outranked.
 "Can you bring in Clay and James? We could use their skills."
 "I can try." I reply, "I don't know if they would once they find out who they would be working for."
 "I think they could be convinced." Pierce replies. "By you I think. You have charisma."
 "Thank you sir." I incline my head and look to Rumlow. Rumlow nods to me and I smile slightly before returning my eyes to Pierce.
 "Good meeting. You two should go to your next one. It starts in twenty minutes. You'll be meeting your new handler." He gives a wave and heads out of the War Room.

 Johann Schmidt sits with his back to us, a cryo tube sitting in front of him with a woman in it. He turns, looking to us, and smirks. He wears modern fatigues, but he looks every bit as horrifying as his file stated. That face was sunken, deep red and he looked like his face had been burned off, if truth. He grinned, and gestured for us to take a seat at the table to his right. Rumlow sat closest to him, and I sat to the left of Rumlow.
 "Good of you two to finally make it." Lester chided, grinning and elbowing me. I roll my eyes at him and appraise the others assembled. I give all of them the once over. There is Rumlow, myself, Lester to my left, and across from us are Jack Rollins, who had been Rumlow's right hand in old STRIKE, and Georges Batroc, a man Cap fought. We were a motley crew of Soldiers, Spies and Mercenaries, a potent mixture of skill and experience.
 "I must admit, Pierce assembled quite a group." Says Schmidt, immediately silencing the whispers at the table. His presence is suffocating. "Brock Rumlow, the leader of STRIKE, a soldier, and a good one. Diana Calhoun, a Marine, special operations, Platoon Seventeen. Impressive, your exploits are renowned by friend and foe." He looks down at a file on the table, raising his 'brow'. "Over one-hundred confirmed sniper kills... a Super Soldier?" He looks me over, with a look that is completely neutral, no feigned interest or disapproval. "Jack Rollins. Soldier, second in Command of STRIKE. Loyal to Rumlow. Decent shot, not a bad Mercenary record... and two true Mercenaries." He looks over Batroc and Lester. Lester sits back, blonde hair wild and untamed, face unshaven and boredom evident on his face. Batroc sits straight, nearly rigid in his seat. "Not a bad team." He rises, moving to the front of the room and places a hand on the cryo tube. "This is your final member. She's not ready to come out of cryo yet. She's one of mine from the War." I narrow my eyes, see the HYDRA logo emblazoned on her sleeve through the fogged glass, and I lean back in my seat, looking over to check Rumlow's reaction. He, Rollins and I share a look of confusion, as we know that Schmidt is our handler, but we have no chain of command. It would be easiest, in my opinion, and I think Rumlow and Rollins would agree, that Rumlow should lead, and Rollins and I should be equals as second in command to Rumlow, and the Mercs were simply that, Mercs, and were therefore, ineligible for office.
 "What is our mission?" I ask, sitting forward now and training my eyes on Schmidt's. He scrutinized me once more before speaking.
 "Your mission will be taking down SHIELD. Brick by brick." He replied, "Now, as I am sure, you three," He flicks his eyes between me, Rumlow and Rollins, "Want to know who to take your orders from in the field. Miss Calhoun-,"
 "Sergeant Major."
 "Sergeant Major Calhoun," Schmidt corrects himself, nodding. I can see a little red note on my file, saying 'hates being called miss'. "You will be the commanding officer. Rumlow, you are second in command, and Rollins, you are Lieutenant. Batroc, Lester, you two are sergeants. Anyone else to join the crew will remain underlings unless promoted by me. You all have a mission file in your quarters. Your plane leaves in two hours. Dismissed."
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sscejm4A's avatar
Oooo!!! It's getting so nerve-wracking/exciting!!! Way to build it up! Clap