O N E

01. | back in business.
you never leave the olden days

genevieve.

•

AFTER ALL of my years of schooling, I've never been so unprepared for something this simple. For a woman to have a doctorate degree in psychology from Oxford and be one of the highest ranking women in the United States's military, I believed that I had this covered. However, I believed completely wrong. This kind of science and physical development is completely irrational. So I've either gotten myself into something incredible or something utterly horrible.

I've repeated over and over again to Dr. Erskine that this will not be a good idea to experiment on a person like this, but he assures me that it will be all right and that the only test subject will be given a choice. I pray to God that he isn't lying to me.

I've had to fly across the bloody ocean for this, so it better be good too.

I twiddle my thumbs on the airplane, silently waiting until we reach our destination. There are a few men that they have all informed me of, but not one seemed fit for the operation. They were either too self-centered or too mortified to take the job. That's when the people in the US told me of Steven Grant Rogers. Apparently he's perfect for it, but Dr. Abraham Erskine and Mr. Howard Stark wanted my approval before testing.

I feel bad for the poor fool. If he just so happens to be fit for the job, he's damned from the moment he steps into that laboratory.

I flip through the files of every other previous soldier that we've thought about. There's one guy that seems well enough for it, but I have not met him personally yet. Hodge is his name. He's fit, big, strong — the perfect soldier. However, that's not what I'm looking for. I'm searching for the guts. If the man's tiny with a big heart, they'll give him a big figure to match it. That's all our guy needs to have.

"Miss Edwards," the flight attendant calls. His ginger hair is swiped clearly to the side, showing his care for his appearance. I glance up at him, meeting his dead eyes. Definitely self-conceited.

"It's Doctor Edwards," I correct.

The ginger sets his jaw, growing impatient. "We will be landing in a few moments. I suggest you gather your things."

"I will. Thank you," I state sarcastically. He stomps off again, leaving me in this section of the jet by myself, which I'm perfectly fine with. I shove my files into a small leather handbag that slings across my shoulder, setting it in my lap and waiting quietly. I feel the plane shooting down towards earth, slowly skidding across the cement once it does reach the ground. I stand from my seat once the flight attendant (Gavin, I think his name is) orders me to get out. He lazily gets my things, smashing them to the floor. Even for being a small beaten up brown suitcase, it thumps to the floor.

"Thank you, love," I grin, snatching my things up and smoothing down my blue and white polka dotted dress. I watch Gavin hold out his hand, expecting some cash I suppose. "Your payment is keeping your job."

Gavin clenches his jaw, retracting his open palm away from me.

I stride to the exit with my luggage. My black flats click across the cement and towards the small black car the awaits near the airplane. A man in a tailored suit leans against it, his hands in his pockets. He greets me with a smile and takes my bags from me. He offers to take my satchel, but I quickly decline.

"Thank you though," I tell him. "If this was ruined, a few people would want me dead."

The chauffeur nods, laughing softly. "Well, Miss Edwards, welcome to New York."

"Doctor," I correct. "And you are?"

"Nathaniel Smith at your service, Doctor," he smiles politely.

I return his bright grin as he helps me into the car. He puts my bag in the trunk and returns to the driver's seat to take me to the camp. I pull my tan trench coat closer to me, waiting as he pulls out into the road.

"So what business are you here for, Doctor?" Nathaniel asks me, glancing at me from the wheel.

"Just an inspection of the soldiers," I reply. It's not entirely a lie, but not the entire truth either. "They need to be mentally fit for some things that the Colonel has in store."

Nathaniel nods slowly, taking everything in. "How are things going near the warfront? I heard it's getting intense."

"Yes, sir. That it is indeed," I reply flatly. I fold my hands across my lap, staring out the window. We cross the border of New York and New Jersey, entering the southernmost state. After a few more moments in the dead silence, Nathaniel pipes up again.

"I'm not sure if it's my business, Doctor, but why do you need to examine the soldiers?" he asks me. "I mean, they're going out there to fight and that's really it."

I scoff, glancing up at the roof of the car. "Have you ever been a soldier, sir?"

"No, Doctor. I'm afraid that I haven't. My asthma is too much of a problem," he confesses with a sigh.

"Well, when you are at war, your body and mind have to work together," I inform him. "If you are strong and capable physically but mentally unprepared for the horrors that await on the battlefield, you're going to have some problems. I can speak from experience."

"You're a soldier?" Nathaniel asks, gazing at me with widened astonished eyes. His jaw is agape, clearly extremely surprised.

"Yes. I've been an agent alongside Agent Carter for two years. She is another female in the military," I state proudly, sticking my chin up in the air. "You have no idea how much it's taken for me to get to this position."

Nathaniel mutters something under his breath, something that I don't quite catch. I think something about me being a woman in the Untied States's military. "What was that?" I ask him.

"Nothing, Doctor," he replies swiftly. He avoids eye contact, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"You're lying," I spit bitterly.

"It was nothing of importance, Doctor."

"If it wasn't, you'd keep it inside your head. Now if you are insulting me about being a woman in a man's job, you can take a glance at our diverse military, since you've obviously never seen what a woman can do without a man peering over her shoulder."

That seems to have shut Nathaniel up for now, leaving the rest of the car ride in peaceful silence. The once setting sun has now fully set to nighttime, the stars and the moon twinkling brightly from the dark night sky. I spot a light at the end of the rough dirt road we drive on, most definitely Camp Lehigh. It's quiet from the lack of training soldiers, most likely in the barracks by now. We pull up next to one of the commander barracks, one very familiar to me.

Nathaniel helps me out of the car and quickly retrieves my bag from the trunk. I take the time staring at the dark night sky. Twinkling stars shine from around the large crescent moon high in the sky. The way it shines reminds me of the two years I was here, gazing at them in hopes of finding my own way to stand out like that huge moon in the clouds. I would pray and beg to be someone, anyone, in this place. I suppose someone answered them because that did eventually happen.

I kick at the dry dirt, taking my leather bag from Nathaniel. I tug my satchel closer to me and tighten my grip on my bag as Nathaniel stares at me in the silence.

"Is there anything else you would like me to do while I'm here, Doctor?" he asks me in a low voice. He's definitely still embarrassed.

"I think I'm all right. You can get going, Mr. Smith." I blink, shifting my gaze to my feet. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he replies, tipping his hat down and hopping back into the car. As he drives away, I turn to face the large building. Memories flood in from when I was appointed an agent a year ago to when I first even laid my eyes on this place. I push them away, gliding up the old creaky wooden steps. I just stand in front of the door, preparing myself for the worst. I take a deep breath and softly knock on the door.

It swings open in less than four seconds, revealing my good friend. "Gen!" Peggy Carter exclaims. Her brunette hair curls just above her shoulders and her painted red lips curl into a toothy smile. She engulfs me in a tight embrace, her curly locks bouncing.

"What are you doing here?" Peggy asks me, her eyes filled with wonder. She continues to grip my shoulders in her strong hands, forcing me to face her.

I laugh lowly. "Haven't you heard of the super soldier program?" I question back, raising my right eyebrow suspiciously.

Her eyes widen. "Oh, yes. Of course," she says with her thick British accent. "Dr. Erskine is in the bunker next to us. He has a soldier in mind, but he wants your approval first. Yes, he did tell me this news."

I nod, confirming her information.

She lets me in quickly, shutting the door behind me. The entire room has the fragrance that I remember from a few years back. It's like sweet vanilla, filling the entire room. Definitely Peggy. There are still two beds here as well — one Peggy's, the other one my own.

"I thought that you would have taken over the whole room by now," I giggle, still scanning the room with my jaw dropped. It hasn't changed at all.

"Well of course of I haven't!" Peggy remarks. "I knew you would be coming back shortly."

I nod slowly, still in awe. I set my bags next to the floral printed bed. I stare at it and try to deduce each and every mark on it. There isn't a single spot that sticks up, making the entire bed seeming freshly made without a single wrinkle. A small book lays on the nightstand next to it, being a sketchbook or something that I own. I flip the page open, and it sure enough is an old sketchbook. I laugh, nostalgia filling my head. I quickly close it to set my worn leather satchel next to it and to turn on the cream colored lamp.

As I glance back up, my eyes stop at a small photograph right next to it. It's dated 1939. Actually, it's on the back but I've remembered it since the day the photograph was taken. And even now, the memory still guts me and makes my smile fall. My little sister and mother sit on a brick wall, their light dresses flowing in the wind. It was my twentieth birthday and I had returned home from university to visit. My sister was barely fifteen years of age at the time, still innocent and pure. Too bad she didn't live past her seventeenth.

"What time is it?" I ask Peggy, looking over my shoulder to face her and away from the photo.

"About nine o'clock," she replies swiftly. "But that doesn't matter. We need to catch up." She sits on the edge of her bed, staring attentively into my eyes. "So tell me, what have you done for the past few months?"

I sigh, planting myself on the edge of my own twin sized bed. I stroke the flowery comforter, a small smile spreading across my lips. "Not much. I've just been studying back home."

"Home as in England, right?"

"Yes," I reply with confusion. "I lived there for the majority of my life."

"Yet you are pure American blood complete with the accent."

"That doesn't mean that I haven't lived there for a long time."

"I'm just saying," Peggy laughs.

"So what have you been up to, Agent Carter?" I ask my old friend, folding my hands across my lap.

"Well, I've been here," she says. "With all of the new recruits, we've needed as many people as possible to train them. Besides, they are definitely in need of it." She clenches her jaw, balling her hands into fists.

"Who is the troublemaker this time around?" I ask her.

Peggy rolls her eyes, groaning at just the thought of the soldier. "His name is Gilmore Hodge, and he is the most bothersome creature I have ever had to be amongst."

I scoff. So I was right about Hodge not being suitable for the project. "I can put him into shape." I sneer mischievously, thinking of so many things I can do to that rogue soldier.

"Yes please," she responds. "He is so disgusting and disturbing that I cannot even bear to be around him."

"'Disgusting and disturbing?'" I quote. "If he has laid a hand on you, he has another thing coming."

Peggy chuckles, staring down at her heels. "He hasn't yet. You know that I can kill him in one fell swoop, right?"

"Yes, but it's just a force of habit. You're younger than me, so I've just grown used to it."

"Shh!" she hushes me. "You are the only here who knows that I lied on my enlistment form, so keep it secret."

"I know, I know," I ramble. "But I've just gotten so used to calling you my youth."

Peggy rolls her eyes, clearly giving up. She eventually lights up, like a beam from a beacon.  "I almost forgot!" she exclaims. She sifts through her nightstand's drawer, peeling a paper out of it. She hands it to me, and I scan it through. "It's the schedule for tomorrow. Might be useful."

"Yeah, might," I smile. There is a whole list of things for the soldiers. I've been told to examine at roll call, so I have to be up by at least six. No problems so far. Then there are the regular routines.

"I'm so happy that you're back," Peggy grins.

I can't wipe the enthused smirk off my face. It's been so long since I've done this. "And I'm glad to be back."