I snapped my head up, scanning the room as the smoke began to clear. The echo of the blast still rang in my ears, though it was quickly fading. My eyes locked onto the man who had lit the bomb with his modified lighter—a receiver for the detonation.

"Stop him!" Erskine's voice rang out, sharp with urgency. My gaze followed the commotion just in time to see the man snatch the last vial of the super serum. A gunshot cracked through the air—then another. I turned, horrified, as Fred Clemson fired twice, hitting Erskine.

A woman's scream pierced the chaos, and my heart sank as Erskine crumpled to the ground. The thief bolted up the stairs, vial in hand, but Peggy was faster. Drawing her pistol in one swift motion, she fired, her bullet grazing his arm. He stumbled but didn't stop, fleeing through the doors.

"Come on!" Peggy barked, snapping me out of my momentary shock. Pain and guilt clawed at me, but I pushed them down. There wasn't time for hesitation—I had a job to do.

We sprinted up the metal stairs, my feet pounding behind hers. Through the double doors, faint gunshots echoed in the distance. As we charged down the corridor, I caught sight of an MP slumped on the floor, being attended to by another soldier. The entrance doors we'd come through earlier were now flung wide open, letting in the cool breeze from outside.

Bursting into the storefront, the bell above the door jangled violently. Outside, the staccato bursts of a machine gun shattered the tense air. Without hesitation, Peggy and I rushed out the front door, just in time to see a car speed off, its windshield riddled with bullet holes.

Peggy charged forward, stepping boldly into the middle of the road. Her hands were steady as she aimed her handgun down the street, determination etched into her every movement.

As I stepped through the door, a nearby car exploded, forcing me to shield my face from the intense heat. Shards of glass flew overhead, scattering across the ground. The flames roared, but I instinctively swirled my hand, drawing the oxygen away and smothering the fire.

A gunshot cracked through the chaos, and I looked up to see Peggy smirking—she'd hit the car. She kept firing, aiming for the oncoming vehicle, but Fred, the driver, remained untouched. My gaze shifted between Peggy and the car speeding toward her. She wasn't going to move—she'd risk her life to stop him.

Before I could react, Steve rushed past me, tackling Peggy out of the way just as the yellow taxi sped by, narrowly missing her. He quickly got back to his feet, already using his newfound abilities to pursue the threat.

"I had him!" Peggy shouted, clearly frustrated at losing her shot.

"Sorry!" Steve called back, his Brooklyn accent carrying as he sprinted after Fred. I hurried over to Peggy and helped her to her feet.

"Knowing Steve, he'll catch him," I reassured her, confident in his determination. "Are you okay?" I quickly scanned her, noting a bit of dirt but no visible injuries.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, her British accent clipped but steady.

"Good. I can't have my best agent out of commission," I teased, earning an eye roll from her. She hated being called the best, but in my eyes, she was. I trusted her with my life—and eventually, my deepest secret.

...........................

Steve had caught Fred, but the spy had a cyanide capsule hidden in a fake tooth and used it to take his own life before he could be interrogated. Peggy and I stood side by side as we watched Steve getting his blood drawn to try and replicate the serum, though we knew it would take years to do so.

"Think you've got enough?" Steve asked, his voice rugged as he rolled down his sleeve. He was now dressed in a clean military uniform, maintaining the soldier's style.

"Any hope of reproducing the program is locked in your genetic code," Peggy explained as Steve stepped away from the bed and stood in front of us. His expression was sombre, reflecting the weight of losing Doctor Erskine. "But without Doctor Erskine, it will take years," Peggy added, finishing her explanation.

"He deserved more than this," Steve said quietly, acknowledging that Erskine was more than just the creator of the serum.

"If it could work only once, he'd be proud it was you," Peggy said, trying to reassure him. She glanced at the file in her hand, but Steve's gaze lingered on her, prompting her to look up and meet his eyes. The unspoken connection between them was obvious, even if neither admitted it.

The sound of the Senator's voice snapped me out of the moment. "Colonel Phillips, my committee is demanding answers," he called from the lower level. I turned to the window overlooking the room below, where Howard Stark was examining the craft Steve had stopped.

"Great. Why don't we start with how a German spy got a ride to my secret installation in your car?" Phillips shot back, clearly irritated. "What have we got here?" Phillips turned his attention to Howard, ignoring the Senator's attempts to respond.

"Speaking modestly, I'm the best mechanical engineer in this country, but I don't know what's inside this thing or how it works. We're not even close to this technology," Howard said, gesturing to the advanced craft.

"Then who is?" the Senator demanded, impatient for answers.

Peggy stepped forward, prompting Steve and me to follow as we descended the stairs to join the group below. "Hydra is the Nazi deep-science division," Peggy began, her voice clear and confident. "It's led by Johann Schmidt, but he has much bigger ambitions."

"Like psychotic ambitions," I added, emphasizing the threat Schmidt posed.

"Hydra is practically a cult," Phillips explained. "They worship Schmidt. They think he's invincible."

"And what are you going to do about it?" the Senator asked bluntly.

"I spoke to the President this morning. As of today, the SSR is being retasked," Phillips announced, walking toward us.

"Colonel?" Peggy questioned, raising a brow.

"We're taking the fight to Hydra. Pack your bags, Agent Carter, and Agent Reverdin. You too, Stark. We're flying to London tonight," Phillips declared.

"Sir?" Steve stepped forward, his determination evident. "If you're going after Schmidt, I want in."

"You're an experiment. You're going to Alamogordo," Phillips replied dismissively.

"The serum worked," Steve insisted, glancing toward us for support.

"I asked for an army, and all I got was you. You are not enough," Colonel Phillips stated bluntly, his voice sharp with frustration as he turned on his heel and strode away. His dismissal stung, not just for Steve but for everyone who believed in him.

My frustration boiled over as I stepped forward, my boots echoing on the floor. "Colonel?" I called after him, my tone firm enough to make him pause mid-stride.

He stopped but didn't turn around immediately. When he did, his gaze was cold and unyielding. "What is it, Reverdin?"

"With all due respect, sir," I began, squaring my shoulders to meet his glare head-on, "Steve has proven himself capable time and time again. He's displayed extraordinary courage, determination, and heart—qualities Doctor Erskine recognized when he chose him. You may have asked for an army, but what you got is the best of us. That has to count for something."

Phillips' expression hardened further, a muscle in his jaw tightening. "Agent Reverdin, one man, no matter how extraordinary, cannot defeat an enemy like Hydra. I needed an army. All I got was one soldier. My decision is final."

His words were final, delivered with the kind of authority that brooked no argument, and yet they felt so unjust. "But Colonel—" I started again, my voice tinged with desperation.

"That's enough," he barked, cutting me off. "We're done here."

With that, he spun on his heel and walked away, his back rigid, his mind seemingly made up. I stood there, my fists clenched at my sides, frustration coursing through me. Every fibre of my being wanted to shout after him, to make him see Steve for the soldier—and the man—he was.

But arguing further would be a waste of breath. Phillips wasn't the type to be swayed by emotion or idealism. He operated in cold, hard realities, and in his mind, Steve Rogers was a gamble he wasn't willing to take.

I exhaled heavily and turned back to the room. My eyes landed on Steve, who was now standing with the Senator. The two men shook hands, I could see the resolve in Steve's face. His posture was straight, his jaw set—he was determined, even if Phillips wasn't willing to give him the chance.

Whatever deal Steve had struck with the Senator, it was clear he wasn't going to back down. He had come too far, sacrificed too much, and carried too many hopes on his shoulders to stop now.

As I walked over to Peggy, who stood nearby watching the exchange, she glanced at me with a knowing look. "He won't listen," she said softly, her voice carrying through the air, as she was on about Phillips.

"No, he won't," I replied, my gaze fixed on Steve, seeing how much he would be useful to this course, to winning this war. But I could not defy orders, and repeating myself will not get Steve anywhere. But I wasn't going to give up hope on what he could be one day. 

I had faith...

******