08. | STORM THE BASEMENT

SEVERAL HIGH-TECH, fully armed helicopters circled Triskelion on high alert. The director of S.H.I.E.L.D. lay in a hospital morgue, and a masked assassin was still on the loose. Who know what was next? But at least they would be ready...

Steve, now back in his Captain America stealth uniform, exited the elevator and made his way to Alexander Pierce's office. He caught sight of Kate, the blonde nurse from across the hall. Though now, technically, she was longer Kate the blonde nurse across the hall, she was Sharon—Agent 13, the blonde agent of S.H.I.E.L.D

"Captain Rogers," she quietly greeted.

"Neighbor," Steve tersely replied, not even giving her a second's glance.

"Captain, I'm Alexander Pierce."

Steve stepped up and shook Pierce's hand. "Sir, you were secretary of state under two presidents. I might have been on ice, but I know who you are. It's an honor."

"The honor's mine, Captain. My father served in the 101st."

Steve noticed some photos and walked over to investigate. He stopped in front of a picture of a much younger Nick Fury—with both eyes—his hand on a Bible, being sworn in by Pierce.

"We met five years earlier," Pierce said behind Steve. "I was in the state department in La Pez. Rebels took the embassy. Security got me out, but the rebels took hostages, including my daughter." Pierce led Steve across the office. "Nick Fury was deputy chief of a S.H.I.E.L.D. substation. He came to me with a plan to storm our building through the sewers. I told him, 'No, we'll negotiate.'"

Pierce walked back to the window and looked out. "It turned out they did not negotiate. They gave the kill order, stormed down to the basement"—he turned back to Steve—"and found it empty. Nick had ignored my direct orders. Carried out an unauthorized military operation on foreign soil...and saved my daughter's life."

Steve smiled. "So you gave him a promotion."

Pierce nodded and then said, "I need your help, Captain. Nick has left us with certain...questions. The first of which is, why did he go to your apartment last night?"

"I'm not sure."

"Did you know it was bugged?"

"I did. Because Fury told me," Steve said.

"Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it?"

Silence fell over the room. And once again, Steve was surprised and confused. What was going on? Why hadn't Fury mentioned that the day before?

Pierce leaned in, sympathetic. "Nick asked me to take the World Security Council job because we were both realists. We knew this job wasn't about ideology. It's about what you have to do right now, today."

"Including listening to Christina and I eat breakfast," Steve said, annoyed.

Pierce smiled softly. "I want you to take a look at this." he activated a screen on his wall that displayed S.H.I.E.L.D agents interrogating Batroc in a gray cell.

Steve couldn't believe it. "Is this live?"

Pierce nodded. "They picked him up in a not-so-safe house in Algiers."

"Are you saying he's a suspect? Assassination's not Batroc's line," Steve retorted, referring to Batroc's MO.

"It's more complicated than that." Pierce handed Steve a forensics accounting printout. "Batroc was hired anonymously to attach the Lemurian Star, and he was contacted by email and paid by wire transfers. And then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts—the last one going to a holder company that was registered to a Jacob Veech."

"Am I supposed to know who that is?" Steve asked as he flipped through the printout.

"Not likely. Veech died six years ago. His last address was 1435 Elmhurst Drive." Pierce stopped and looked at Steve. "When I first met Nick, his mother lived at 1437."

"Are you saying Fury hired the pirates? Why?"

"The prevailing theory was that the hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour and that led to Nick's death," Pierce told Steve.

Steve was quiet for a long moment as he tried to process the new information and this prevailing theory. "If you really knew Nick Fury, you'd know that's not true."

"Why do you think we're talking?" Pierce asked. Then he gave a heavy sigh and continued. "See, I took a seat on the Council not because I wanted to, but because Nick asked me to, because we were both realists, like I said before. We knew that, despite all the diplomacy and the handshaking and the rhetoric, to build a better world sometimes means have to tear the old one down." Pierce turned to look sharply at Steve. "And that makes enemies. Those people that call you dirty because you got the guts to stick your hands in the mud and try to build something better. And the idea that those people could be happy today makes me really, really angry." Pierce paused and took a breath. "Captain, you were the last one to see Nick alive. I don't think that was an accident. And I don't think you do, either. So, I'm gonna ask again. Why was he there?"

Steve stood there, remembering what Fury had told him in the apartment about trusting people. He thought about what might be on the data drive. He thought about Nick's cold body lying in the hospital morgue. He looked at a photo of Nick from when he still had two eyes and then a more recent photo of him glaring from behind his patch. One eye stared at Steve.

"He told me not to trust anyone."

"I wonder if that included him," Pierce replied.

"I'm sorry. Those were his lasts words."

They stared at each other, neither backing down.

Then Pierce said, "Captain, somebody murdered by friend and I'm gonna find out why. Anyone gets in my way they're gonna regret it. Anyone—even a woman."

Steve's blood ran cold. He knew that Pierce was referring to Christina, and Steve wouldn't allow Pierce to hurt her, even if it meant getting to the truth. But he wouldn't give Pierce the satisfaction of knowing that his words had affected him. He wasn't surprised that Pierce was desperate enough to bring up Christina. He shook his head and walked out of the office and toward the elevator.

The elevator slid open, and Steve walked inside, straight to the back. He placed his hands on the railing and stared down at D.C. "Operations Control."

"Confirmed," the computerized voice replied.

Right as the doors began to close, a large hand shot in between the two doors, Steve glanced over his shoulder to see Rumlow and three other S.T.R.I.K.E. team members entering the elevator. "Forensics," Rumlow said to the elevator's computer and then looked over at Steve. "Cap."

"Rumlow," Steve said shortly, and he turned away from the glass elevator wall to face his teammate. The elevator doors slid shut and started to cascade down the shaft.

"Evidence Response found some fibers on the roof they want us to see. You want me to get the tac team ready?" Rumlow asked Steve.

"No, let's wait and see what it is first."

"Right," Rumlow replied.

Steve's eyes traveled down to see Rumlow's hand, noticing how it was resting too casually and comfortably on his holstered gun. Nobody ever puts their hand on their gun like that unless they're about to open fire. Instantly, Steve's guard came up, his blue eyes narrowed in confusion and curiosity as he studied the back of Rumlow's head. The elevator slowed to a stop and the door slid open, and letting a group of four men, carrying suitcases and wearing tailored suits, enter the elevator.

"Administrations level," one of the men said to the computer.

"Confirmed," the computer replied before the elevator began to move again.

"Excuse me," one of them said to Steve as he made sure he had a secured spot on the small elevator.

Steve moved to his right slightly and backed further into the wall. Something didn't feel right, and he was feeling increasingly claustrophobic and on edge.

"I'm sorry about what happened with Fury," Rumlow said suddenly, cranking his neck in Steve's direction. "Messed up what happened to him."

"Thank you," Steve replied, sharpness to his voice.

"Awful that Chris had to see him go like that. He was practically like a father to Chris after she was recruited to S.H.I.E.L.D." Rumlow said casually.

Steve's body tensed at hearing Rumlow say Christina's nickname. I'm the only one she allows to call her that, Steve thought. Christina didn't allow anyone other than Steve to call her anything but Christina, not even Nick Fury. And the last time Steve checked, Rumlow wasn't Steve Rogers. He began to wonder if Rumlow was saying it just to try and get under his skin, or if Christina and Rumlow had gotten extremely close over those past few months. The thought made his insides twist in discomfort.

"She'll pull through. She's strong." Steve said.

Silence filled the small elevator, the quiet murmuring of the agents being the only thing that broke the silence; Steve glanced over to his left. Running down the temple, of the man who'd pushed himself beside Steve, was a bead of sweat. Despite the crammed and confined space of the elevator, the temperature wasn't hot, not even warm. Sweat was usually the sign of nervousness - what had this guy so nervous that he was sweating?

The elevator stopped at yet another floor and the doors slid open to reveal a group of four men who entered the already crowded elevator.

"Records," one of them told the computer.

"Confirmed," the computer responded.

Steve glanced over his shoulder at the increasing number of men around him.

This is far too coincidental, Steve thought. Out of all the times that Steve had ridden this elevator, it had never been this packed, and especially not filled with men who had special combat training. And in that exact moment, he realized that these men were ordered to kill him.

The elevator doors closed, and then the familiar jerk of the carrier confirmed that they were moving. Steve gave one more survey of the men around him before he made his decision. "Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?"

There was a pause, a long agonizing pause that made Steve feel as though another seventy years had gone by. The sound of a taser being zapped to life broke the thick silence that had fallen upon them. Men quickly leaped forward and pinned Steve to the wall and other man slammed his fist against the emergency stop button on the elevator's control panel.

The handle of two suitcases came off the hinges, that's when Steve realized that they some sort of magnetized-handcuffs and they were trying to handcuff him to the metal bar that ran along the side of the elevator's walls. Using his Super-Soldier strength that he could muster, he pushed and pushed against the magnetic force that threatened to pin him down and make him vulnerable. Ducking downward, he yanked his arm out of the force of the magnet and began punching and kicking, effectively shoving several agents off him.

He managed to get the man behind him holding him in a headlock off of him, and he was preparing to advance toward Rumlow, but Rumlow threw one of the magnetic-handcuffs at him and trapped his right wrist to the wall.

Steve reached up with his left hand to try and pry it off, but before he could Rumlow came at him with the taser-wand. Steve gave trying to pull his wrist off the wall for a moment and turned to fend off Rumlow. Steve knew this was much more difficult when fighting with one arm, but he knew that he still had the upper hand on Rumlow.

Suddenly, Rumlow slammed the business-end of the taser-wand against Steve's side. Steve clenched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, a low, and gruff cry of agony released from his mouth as the electricity surged through his body, making his muscles convulse and his nerves spaz. Steve grunted loudly as he reared back his left elbow and rammed it against Rumlow's nose, just earning enough time to kick an agent, who was charging toward him, in the face.

Two more agents rose from the floor and advanced, Steve grabbed the agent's wrist - the one that gripped the taser-wand and placed it against the other agent's chest. He swung his legs out and knocked two more agents unconscious and they both crumbled to the floor in a heap of dark blue and convulsing muscles. Steve turned himself toward the wall, placed his feet next to his captured wrist and pushed, prying his wrist away from the wall. He grunted and pulled as hard as he could, and within a seconds notice, he was free and flipping backwards away from the wall to land on the ground and elbow two more agents who were slowly rising from the floor.

Steve turned toward Rumlow, who was leaning against the wall, a taser-wand in each hand. Rumlow raised his hands up, palms facing Steve. "Whoa, big guy," he panted. "I just want you to know, Cap...this isn't personal!"

He lunged at Steve with one taser-wand raised above his head, and the other directed toward Steve's torso.

Steve managed to stop Rumlow's overhead hand, but just missed catching the torso shot. The taser-wand made contact with is open torso, and he gritted his teeth in pain to try and ward off the effects of the electricity. Once he pushed Rumlow's hand off of his torso, Rumlow brought the other one down to the other side of his torso, electrocuting him again.

Steve shoved his hands out toward Rumlow and gripped the material of his suit, swung him up into the ceiling of the elevator and smashing forcefully against the lights, and letting Rumlow plummet down to the floor—unconscious.

"It kind of feels personal," Steve growled lowly.

Steve saw his shield lying on the floor, and he stomped on the edge of it to flip it up into position. He used the smooth edge of his shield to snap off the magnet-handcuff that was stilling confining his right wrist. He leant forward and pressed the start button of the elevator's control panel, but when he reached the next floor and the doors slid open, it revealed an armed team of men ready to attack.

"Open up, Rogers! Get that door open!" shouts came from the other side of the doors. Steve wasn't afraid of them—he was afraid of what they might do to get to him. They would hurt anyone that was close to him to hurt him, especially Christina. Pierce and Rumlow's offhand statements about her now made sense to Steve, and it made his heart lurch up into his throat.

"Rogers!" more shouts came.

Steve stared out the window, and he knew that jumping through it was his only way out. He pressed his back against the wall opposite from the glass and took a deep breath through his nose and lunged through the glass—shield first—and skydiving down to the glass ceiling of the building below.

Steve briefly prayed to God that he would survive the fall.

Steve was in freefall, his body curled behind the protection of his shield. He shut his eyes so he wouldn't get dizzy from the things passing him at super-speeds as he descended. He felt his shield hit the glass ceiling and then he was through. He registered screams and shouts of the people below, the shattered glass hitting the tiled floors, and then he slammed into the ground.

All the oxygen was forcefully lurched out of his lungs, he couldn't think, he couldn't breathe and his lungs felt like that had been flatten to the width of a sheet of paper. But suddenly, he remembered that the men from the elevator, and he forced his body come back to life. He had to get out of there, and quick. Letting out a tight breath of siring pain, he winced and cringed as he slowly uncurled himself and pushed himself into a standing position before running off toward the garage.

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