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Dr. Ivchenko, on request of Chief Dooley, retold the story of how he came across Leviathan's path, in a disturbingly explicit way that had (Y/N) flinching at every detail. The entire time he was talking, all the small pieces of the puzzle inside her head were connecting, but some still had no place in it. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but restrained herself until the doctor finished telling his story.

"That's when I learned. . ." Dr. Ivchenko concluded. "Monsters are real, and there is none more terrifying than Leviathan."

"Here I thought it was just something they told the apple knockers to scare them," Chief Dooley spoke up for the first time in a while. His eyes flickered amongst his agents in the room, which were (Y/N), Peggy and Thompson. "How long has Leviathan been active?"

"Since after the Great War," the doctor answered right away. "Stalin's goal is for Russia to become a leading power in the world, which means having better weapons than our enemies and our allies. Leviathan had been very successful."

"Mechanical, biological — "

"Human?" Peggy questioned, cutting him off. "Is that what the young girl was, a human weapon?"

"My knowledge of specific operations is sadly restricted to only what I was told."

"That building seemed to house a training facility," Peggy retaliated after the doctor responded. "Shackles in the beds, classrooms."

Chief Dooley raised his hand to slow down the conversation in order to keep up. "Training young girls to be what, assassins?"

"Seems like the Russians would want to train grown men," Thompson had to add in.

"Women and children are often overlooked, taken for granted," Dr. Ivchenko answered. "They can slip easily through a man's defenses."

(Y/N) crossed her arms and leaned forward to not miss a word. "How many girls were there?"

"Again, I was not allowed — "

"Do you think the girls could have been deployed here, to America?" Peggy followed her lead.

"I wish I could be of more assistance, Agent Carter — "

"Who could be of more assistance?"

Chief Dooley stood up from his chair in one swift move, startling everybody in the room. His tense posture and expression showed that he was quite  frustrated with what was playing out in front of his eyes.

"Agent Carter." He opened the door angrily and pointed outside. "A word."

Peggy had no option but to sigh and walk out of the office. (Y/N) was standing still in her position, not knowing what to do or say since there was practically smoke steaming off Chief Dooley's ears.

"Don't think I forgot about you, Agent Dewitt!"

That was (Y/N)'s cue to snap out of her daze and walk outside with her arms now glued to her sides, hearing the way Chief Dooley closed the door behind him and trailed after them both.

Peggy opened her mouth to speak one more time. "Chief Dooley, I really must insist you allow me to continue to — "

"Could you zip it for a minute?" Chief Dooley cut her off with an angered tone. "Geez."

The anger in his tone made Peggy stay silent and allowed the chief to continue.

"Look, your work in Russia was admirable, but this is still my operation," he pointed out behind him to his office. "And I need to hear everything he has to say about Leviathan. And as callous as it sounds, I don't care about some little girl — "

"Well, you should," Peggy bit back with the same tone. "because that little girl, I believe, grew up to kill Agent Krzeminski."

"Where did you come up with that theory?"

"Ballistics identified the firearm that killed Krzeminski to be a Korovin TK, a Russian gun."

"So?"

"Not only that, it's small." she continued. "Small enough to be more suitable for a woman's grip."

"Ah," he gritted his teeth. "That's thin."

"It's also the most believable explanation of how Howard Stark got involved in the first place," (Y/N) figured it was the best time to intervene the chief's sharp words against her friend. "He is an infamous womanizer. The story of the vault break-in can only work out if he were manipulated by a well-trained female operative, as Agent Carter here implied."

"You know what? This is so much bigger than your buddy Howard Stark," Chief Dooley snapped with his eyes flickering between the two.

"Yes, it is."

"And now, after everything you know, do you really think that he's involved with Leviathan?"

That quieted him down for a few seconds. He nodded to himself, as if he were truly considering what he was just told, before facing them back.

"All right," he spoke after a beat of silence. "Chase it."

That caught them both off guard. But Peggy was the first one to react. "Sir?"

"You got a hunch. See if you're right."

(Y/N) still couldn't believe what she was hearing. If this had happened last week, he would've brushed their words off and dismissed them to take everyone's lunch orders. But now, it seemed as if Chief Dooley was truly interested in what they had to say; in what they had to offer in this operation. Was she dreaming?

"Would you look at that?" Chief Dooley asked to the air, completely silent as opposed to a few minutes ago. "You really can keep your mouth shut when you try."

"Now get the hell out of here."

"Yes, sir," (Y/N) cleared her throat. "Thank you, sir."

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Following the unestablished tradition of heading directly to the L&L Automat after a long day at work, (Y/N) and Peggy found themselves sat in the same booth they always occupied. This was also the best way to meet up with Mr. Jarvis without drawing too much suspicion, although both women were still weary to the idea of having to contact him.

"When I look back on it, it seems to me as if I have been living here like a poor woman," Angie's voice was heard from where (Y/N) sat, the blonde reciting the monologue for a previous audition as she stood by the bar, her back to the tables. "Just from hand to mouth. I have existed merely to perform tricks for you, Torvald. But you would have it so. You and papa have committed a great sin against me. It is your fault that I have made nothing of my life."

"Bravo, Angie," an elderly woman clapped enthusiastically from her table.

"Thanks, Esther."

Angie finally turned around to chuckle at the woman's support, grabbing the rag she used to clean the tables and snapping back into her reality. She headed toward Peggy and (Y/N)'s table, reaching out for something inside the pocket of her apron.

"Your new key." she held it out for Peggy to see. "I had to practically sign over my firstborn to Miriam to get this for you."

"Thank you," Peggy smiled at her genuinely. "I can't imagine where I dropped mine."

(Y/N) placed down her cup of coffee and grinned up to her friend. "Angie, that was lovely."

"Ugh, tell that to the producers," Angie scoffed and her shoulders dropped. "They said it was the worst audition they'd ever seen."

She used the rag in her hands to clean off the table, although there wasn't that much of a mess to begin with. "You ordering?"

"No. We're waiting for a friend," Peggy answered this time and then locked eyes with her. "Angie, you can't just let one audition get you down."

"How about seven?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, but things will look up."

"I've been telling myself that for a year." Angie confessed, her hands toying with the rag in her hands and with an expression of disappointment. "Time to take the hint. The floodlights are calling, but not for me. My father signed me up for secretary school. I start next week."

"But you belong onstage," (Y/N) tried to make her reason, finding a sense of deja vu in the topic of this conversation.

"If that were true, I'd be there already."

Peggy's eyes flickered to the door behind Angie, immediately spotting Mr. Jarvis making his way inside of the automat. His own eyes were in search of the ladies until they landed on their table, and (Y/N) turned her head around discreetly just in time to see him approach.

"We'll talk about this when I get home tonight," Peggy tried to dismiss Angie in the softest way possible, without making it seem like she was pushing her away.

"Nothing to say." Angie turned around to see Mr. Jarvis walk up and shrugged. She reached out for her notepad. "I'll let you and your friend talk."

Mr. Jarvis, instead of sitting down on either side of the booth with Peggy and (Y/N), he decided to sit on the abandoned table right behind theirs in order to avoid suspicions. He sat back to back with Peggy, so this made (Y/N) lean forward in order to hear what Mr. Jarvis had to say.

"I must say, I was very pleased to receive your call." he broke the tense silence. "Can I assume you're both back on the team?"

"I don't believe we ever were on the same team, so no," Peggy responded right away. "We are still, however, working towards a common goal."

"Fair enough," he nodded. "It may interest you to know that your superior paid me a visit."

"Chief Dooley?" (Y/N) asked in a low voice.

"Yes. It seems there may be a change in the prevailing winds within the SSR."

Peggy reached out to grab the menu from the table and skimmed her eyes through it. "Leviathan has certainly sparked their interest, but Howard isn't out of the woods just yet."

"What did Dooley want?" (Y/N) continued on the mention of her boss.

"Information on a battle in the German town of Finow," Mr. Jarvis replied and this perked up (Y/N)'s interest. She could recall that the chief had mentioned it once back in the office. "I didn't say anything at the time, but Mr. Stark did visit Finow in 1944. He returned distressed and soon after began construction on his vault."

"What did Howard have to say about it?"

"I've tried getting messages to him," Mr. Jarvis murmured a response to Peggy's question. "However, he's been difficult to reach."

"Mm. Interesting, but that can wait." She passed the menu to (Y/N) across the table from her. "Russia had been training young women to be undercover operatives, and we both know that Howard's major weakness is — "

"Women. And raspberry truffles."

(Y/N) frowned at that last part but didn't have the time to question it. "Would it be possible for to you to get a list of all the women that Howard engaged with in the last year?"

"I'm not sure there's enough ink in the whole of New York to complete that request."

"Fine. Just in the last six months, then." Peggy corrected with a huff. "Is that possible?"

"Oh, yes." Mr. Jarvis nodded with a smile. ""Yes, I suggest we start with the western hemisphere."

(Y/N) scoffed in disgust. "For heaven's sake."

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"We call it the 'Stark special'." the jeweler, Albert, announced as he held the expensive, dazzling bracelet in between his fingers. "Custom-designed to his exact specifications."

Mr. Jarvis suggested the idea visiting a local, luxurious jewelry shop that Howard often purchased from to have a head start on their theory. (Y/N) felt out of place in a location like this, just the exact same feeling she experienced when she walked into the Stark penthouse a few days ago, and the prices on the jewelry were also enough to cause her a heart attack.

Peggy's voice snapped her out of her daydream. "Are you saying Howard Stark buys a bracelet for every woman — "

"Oh, no," Mr. Jarvis cut her words off defensively. But then, he reconsidered. "Yes."

"He considers it a parting gift to commemorate their time together."

"Mr. Stark demands only the highest quality diamonds, the highest karat of gold," Albert continued, his hand delicately moving the bracelet for them to see. "Any girl would be lucky to wear such a fine piece."

Albert's eyes fell on (Y/N), since he noticed how interestedly she glanced at the bracelet. "Would you like to try it on?"

"Oh, thank you very much," (Y/N) looked up to the man and flashed him an embarrassed smile before shaking her head.

"If we could just see the list, we'll be on our way," Peggy added on, a smile on her lips too.

"Anything for friends of Mr. Stark."

Albert reached out behind the counter and pulled out a white sheet of paper, placing it on top of the glass display. At first glance, it seemed to be just one page, until (Y/N) reached out to it and realized it was more than two pages long.

"Oh, it's shorter than I thought it would be," Mr. Jarvis still managed to comment.

(Y/N) couldn't believe what she was reading. There were too many names to count with both hands. "How could he possibly meet this many women?"

"Well, the Academy Awards is a very busy time."

Peggy pulled out a pen from her purse and began to cross out some of the names on the list.

"What are you doing?"

"A large portion of the women on this list are well-known actresses, models, and socialites, publicly established for several years," she explained to Mr. Jarvis as she continued this action through every page. "They can be disregarded."

Mr. Jarvis's eyes fell on one particular name on the list. "Well, I wouldn't dismiss her."

"You think Ginger Rogers is a Russian assassin?" (Y/N) looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

"You should have seen her eyes when I escorted her from Mr. Stark's villa," He described as he gulped down his fear as he remembered the event. "The darkest gates to the abyss."

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After that brief moment at the jewelry shop, they were off in search of the women who lived around the area. Mr. Jarvis was pleasantly driving the green car into the busy streets of the city and parked it near a construction site, where (Y/N) could hear the infamous sound of a jackhammer being used.

Once the car had stopped, Peggy took this as a sign to open her door and proceeded to close it with enthusiasm "Into the breach!"

(Y/N) stepped outside too and noticed how Mr. Jarvis hadn't moved a muscle. "Aren't you coming?"

"I thought I might sit this one out, actually," Mr. Jarvis suggested, even though he had been begging to be involved in these situations ever since she met him.

"I need you to positively identify these women," Peggy turned on her heel and walked over to his window. "Stop dawdling and come along."

He sighed nervously. "It's just that with Mr. Stark's tendency to, um. . ."

"Prematurely evacuate?"

"When. . .When he ends a relationship, he prefers to do so by proxy, and that proxy is me."

(Y/N) made a sound of distaste from the back of her throat at that and began to walk away with Peggy behind her. Now, she could understand the inevitable anger she'd have to face while questioning these women — she couldn't imagine how dehumanizing it would be for someone to treat you like you're the most precious thing in the world before discarding you in a blink of an eye.

Mr. Jarvis didn't let them get that far before he walked out of the car and jogged to catch up with them. "Sufficed to say, these encounters could be disagreeable."

"We're not having dinner with these women," Peggy reminded him. "I just need to see their wrists."

"You're looking for the bracelet?"

"Not quite," Peggy answered and faced Mr. Jarvis as they crossed the street. "The girl in Russia had scars on her wrists from being cuffed to the bed. If my theory is correct, our spy will have those same scars."

"Surely you could devise a way to see these women's wrists without involving me."

"Come on, Mr. Jarvis," (Y/N) eyed him with crossed arms, a teasing grin popping up. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

Mr. Jarvis could only gulp in response, preparing himself for the worst. The first woman's door that they knocked in was opened by a redhead, obviously bothered by the mention of Howard and her previous involvement with him.

"No, I haven't seen Howard Stark, and I don't want to," she fumed. "He's a no good, dirty, lowdown snake, as if he could buy me off with a trinket. I'm not that kind of girl."

(Y/N) could see from the corner of her eye how Mr. Jarvis was fussing in his spot, still uncomfortable about this entire situation. Peggy was in charge of checking the woman's wrists, obviously not being able to see anything because of the way the redhead gripped onto her door.

"If I did that, if any girl did that, you know what people would call her?" the redhead didn't give them time to answer. "A floozy, that's what."

"He should be shamed," she continued, on the verge of exploding. "He should be judged, and so should you for helping him. Tell him if I ever see him just scatting about town, I'm gonna show him the business end of this!"

Before any of them could stop her, she raised her hand to slap Mr. Jarvis right across the face. In the two next doors they knocked in, (Y/N) heard almost the same speech from these women, clearly still bitter about the dismissal. On the second door, Mr. Jarvis had been the receiver of a second slap, which had him clutching his face by the time they reached the third door. This next woman raised her hand to do the same thing, but Peggy stopped her in the right moment since she knew what to expect by then. That didn't stop this lady from proving her anger and instead kicked Mr. Jarvis directly in the leg.

Mr. Jarvis was forced to limp on their way back to the car after that unfortunate meeting. "Mr. Stark would seem to have an unfortunate attraction to violent women."

"I imagine they were far less violent before they met him," Peggy demurred and reached out to check the list. "Ida Emke is next."

Mr. Jarvis perked up at the name. "Yes, a dancer he met at a charity auction, I believe."

"Hmm."

"No, maybe the caterer."

"His variety is astonishing," (Y/N) scoffed. She leaned over Peggy's shoulder to see the address under Ida Emke's name. "Luckily, she's close by."

"Perfect," Peggy mumbled and opened the door to slip inside the car.

"Perfect," Mr. Jarvis copied her words, although his words were less enthusiastic.

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"Miss Emke."

Peggy softly called out the name of the woman while knocking on the door to her apartment, having no sort of response from the other side. In the particular fashion of people who do not want to answer the door to strangers, there was no commotion behind the door — not even some hushed whispers.

"No one home," Mr. Jarvis cut in quite eagerly. "What a shame. Shall we?"

Peggy grabbed and turned the knob of the door, surprised when the door opened. Her eyes fell on (Y/N) in search of any kind of unsure mess in hers, but instead was received with a firm nod.

"Uh, keep an eye on the hallway," (Y/N) turned to Mr. Jarvis. "Knock if there's danger."

With that, she and Peggy slipped inside the apartment and left Mr. Jarvis completely alone in the hallway. As both closed the door behind them, (Y/N)'s eyes immediately fell on the stash of letters on the floor by the door, indicating that they had been slipped inside and nobody had bothered to pick them up. In the dresser just a few feet away from the door, Peggy saw how the cabinets were open and completely empty, as if somebody had pulled the contents out in a hurry.

(Y/N) was silently inspecting every other inch of the apartment, faintly hearing Mr. Jarvis's voice outside. She was about to question it when she saw how Peggy's attention was somewhere else, and immediately made her way over to see what had grabbed her attention. There, on one of the wooden bed posts, were traces of scratched off paint, that went all around it in the shape of a badly drawn circle; marks that shackles could easily make.

That could easily confirm the previous theory, but something that troubled (Y/N) was the bed's size, which was larger than the average twin-sized bed a single woman would purchase for an apartment. The second thing were the marks on the bed posts. They were on either sides of the bed, and she found it quite unbelievable that someone might place a shackle onto her wrist and stretch the other hand that far away into the other side of the bed to do the same.

(Y/N) thought she was imagining things, so she decided to stay quiet and follow Peggy outside. When they stepped outside into the hallway, they found Mr. Jarvis nervously shifting on his feet, eyes staring off into the distance and his face completely red with nervousness.

"Who were you talking to?" Peggy questioned in a whisper-yell.

"A future mafioso," Mr. Jarvis answered. (Y/N) peeked out into the hallway to see if she spotted this unknown person but couldn't see anything. "Did you find anything useful?"

"Ida's gone," (Y/N) answered. "And she has been for a long time. The room's completely empty, but she's definitely the girl we're looking for."

"How can you tell?"

"Uh, scratches on the bedposts," Peggy responded.  "Remember, the Russian girls were handcuffed to the beds from a very young age."

Mr. Jarvis's eyes flashed with horror. "Are you suggesting she's still doing it?"

"It must be a very hard habit to break," (Y/N) emphasized, her arms crossing over her chest.

"That is immensely disturbing."

"We'll knock on a few doors, see if any of the neighbors know where Ida may have gone," Peggy dictated as her eyes fell on the doors down the hall. "In the meantime, see if you can track down the owners of the building. They may have a paper trail on her. Meet us back at the automat, and let's move fast."

"We're close. I can feel it."