This day in Washington D.C. was not unlike others in recent memory. It was a cloudless, pleasant, February day, and the mild weather at the end of a long winter was drawing residents from all over the city out of their homes and onto the streets for the first time in a long while. But the day was nothing particularly special. The 650,000 who lived were all going about their own lives just as they always had, doing what they loved, what they hated, celebrating their old traditions and starting new ones, having mundane moments, and life changing ones.

Washington D.C. was a vibrant metropolis of culture, of history, of passion, of color, of life. A place of old and new. A city of secrets.

Nobody knew that better than Alexander Pierce.

The scotch in his hand was a necessary way to start his morning. Both of the lives he led, one as the esteemed Secretary of the World Security Council and the other as one of Hydra's top undercover agents, took much out of him, and the gentle buzz of a morning liquor always seemed to take the edge off for his day to come.

His view from the Triskelion was something to be envied. With a stunning view of the Potomac and views of the city skyline in the distance, he could stare out the windows of his office for hours and watch time go by. But that wasn't his mission in this life, to let the world pass him. He was going to create a new world, a world of order where its people were free of their own freedom. He was going to tear this world down and make a new one, no matter the cost...

There was a knock on the door behind him, drawing him from his deepening thoughts.

"Come in," he called to the person on the other side of his door, his back still towards the entrance.

The handle was turned, and in walked in the click of stiletto heels on the marble floor of the office. The woman who entered was smartly dressed in her business best, holding a clipboard and portable daily planner at her side as she walked a few paces into the room. While the secretary didn't enter the room with hesitancy, she did so cautiously, making certain that her boss wasn't preoccupied.

She didn't know what the reason was, but even after a few years of working with Shield and their aloof agents, her current boss always made her uneasy. She couldn't find an exact reason, because he was always courteous and professional, but to her there was something… off. Something she couldn't put into words. And it didn't help that one of her least favorite agents, who was one of the biggest tools in the business, was one of his most frequent visitors, and even now was currently waiting to enter the room. She mentally sighed. Why couldn't Captain America come around here more often...

Pushing these thoughts away, she swallowed these feeling as she always did and spoke up.

"Mr. Pierce, Agent Rumlow is here to see you."

The distant man didn't turn around to respond to his secretary, and instead opted to continue his unwavering stare of the world outside his window.

"Send him in, Rachel, thank you," he directed her, and with a nod he couldn't see, she did just that.

A new pair of shoes entered the room, pounding on the floor as they began to walk towards the center of the room, closer to Pierce. The door closed, and the sound of combat boots stopped after a few heavy paces.

"Sir," the roughened agent greeted the suited man calmly, standing a good couple feet behind him.

Finally, Pierce took his eyes off the outside world, and turned to face the agent who had just arrived.

"Brock," the Secretary answered, his tone matching Rumlow's. He strolled over to his desk, reached into a drawer, and pulled out his Scotch bottle, refilling his own glass just a little bit more "Can I offer you a drink?"

The visiting agent was dressed in his normal, battle ready grab, a weapon very conspicuously resting at his side, able to be easily accessed whenever necessary. His rigid, on-edge posture, his sculpted face that held a permanent scowl, and eyes analyzing every corner of the room would have made any regular civilian cringe with discomfort; but for those in Hydra, this was the normal appearance of many of the men they worked. It didn't phase Pierce in the slightest. This agent, like many others, never seemed to be off his guard, which in this business was a good thing.

"No thanks."

There were a few moments of silence that passed between the two, neither of the Hydra agents willing to fill it with small talk. Rumlow was almost relieved when the Secretary began to get straight to the point.

"So tell me, Brock." Pierce quickly downed the last swig of his drink and placed the empty glass on his desk. "How is he doing?"

Rumlow subconsciously straightened his posture ever so slightly. This was his business for being there today, the reason Pierce had summoned him. The Winter Soldier had just been awaken.

"Agent Bailey was once again able to successfully remove the Asset from the chamber without any difficulties," the agent reported swiftly. "We began the routine procedures to warm him two days ago, and yesterday he was completely removed from the ice. His vital signs began to rise yesterday afternoon, and he regained consciousness around one this morning."

Pierce nodded in approval. What Brock reported was that of what he should be. Nothing was out of place, nothing was strange.

"What of his mental state?"

"He was disoriented for the first hour, but was able to recollect his purpose after that time. He has already been started on his normal cycle of medications. Physically, he's still regaining the use of his limbs, but he should be fully functioning in less than 24 hours."

"Is he compliant?"

Rumlow nodded. The Asset was being obedient, as he always had.

"Good," Pierce answered casually, as if he was happy the weather was getting warmer. "Continue to update me. Alert me if he should begin to… backtrack. We'll take the necessary actions if needed."

The agent nodded in agreement. While it didn't happen often, he knew the procedure if the Asset were to start remembering again.

Rumlow began to retreat and walk back towards the door he came through. This was usually where their conversation ended, allowing him to get back to his daily business.

"Before you leave, Brock, there is one thing I'd like you to oversee." The agent paused and turned to once again face the man in charge. He raised a brow in question. "Because of Dr. Turk's recent… departure, I believe it's time we bring in our new physician."

He understood the request. They had talked on this subject before. "Immediately?"

Pierce smirked brightly.

"Immediately."

"Tell me a story. I wanna hear something good."

"Shouldn't a linguist know that 'wanna' isn't proper English grammar?"

"I'm off the clock."

On the other end of the city, much less malicious topics were being discussed. As two Hydra agents plotted and schemed to create their new world order, two women were executing their own plans; a standing Monday lunch date that the two had been carrying out for years now.

The doctor at the table laughed, taking a bite of her sandwich as her best friend continued to demand thrilling tales out of her.

"What makes you think I have a story this week?" she questioned, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You always have a story," the linguist asserted. She pointed her fork at the woman in front of her. "Come on, cough it up. I love hearing the weird shit you get to do at work; gets me through the week knowing one of us loves her job."

"While we're eating?" the other jested, feigning surprise as she did so. She knew very well how much her friend loved hearing about her adventures in the emergency room. She just loved to draw out the woman's pleading for her own enjoyment.

"Langley, make me laugh," the woman begged of her friend.

Who was Lorelai Hellman to deny her friend such a request?

This was how the two women's Mondays had gone for about two years now, the childhood friends sharing a meal together and talking about their exploits of the week, Lorelai's in the ER of Benjamin Franklin University Hospital as an emergency physician, and Greta's as a linguist working for a language learning software company. Every week Greta Kohlberg, who believed Lorelai had the more exciting career of the two of them, would probe her for the wicked events that took place in her workplace. She did it out of morbid curiosity, and for the shock factor she wished to subject herself to.

Lorelai, or to Greta, Langley, as she had called her since they were young, finally 'gave in', a smile warming her face.

"Okay, okay," she relented with a chuckle, putting down her food and probing her mind for a tale from this week to share. "Oh, here's kind of funny one; a family with a couple of kids were playing Avengers in their backyard, and 'Captain America' threw his 'shield' at his dad so hard it knocked him out." Greta's mouth gaped as she listened intently, a single horrified chuckle leaving her throat.

"What was the shield?" Greta asked curiously, wondering what could do that much damage.

"A metal, trash can lid, the heavy ones that keep raccoons out," Lorelai clarified. Greta gasped then, cringing as those she had just witnessed the episode herself.

"Was he okay?"

"Yeah, for the most part, though he did have a good sized laceration on his forehead and a mild concussion. But he was a good sport about it; he told his son the Cap would be proud at his arm."

Greta shook her head at the father's good nature, smiling as she did so.

"Sounds like my dad," she admitted, a laugh bubbling to her lips when she imagined her own father's reaction. "Remember when I hit a line drive into his shin during softball practice? He couldn't walk right for a week, but he told everyone the reason why with a lot of gusto."

Lorelai nodded happily, remembering the event very clearly. The two had been on the same team for much of their elementary and middle school years, as with many more of their after school activities. They were Greta and Lorelai, the inseparable pair.

"I do, I do," the physician said with a snort. "I remember him hobbling the benches with tears in his eyes he was in so much pain, but he's going, 'Yes Greta! That's how you do it! Just like that!'"

The linguist chuckled and then sighed contently.

"Good old, dad," Greta said fondly, effectively ending the conversation. "What else?"

"What else, let's see… Oh, Thursday a twenty something kid came in with severe abdominal pains, so we took an x-ray of his stomach. Turns out he had been high the night before and ate almost half a roll of quarters thinking they were Necco wafers."

Greta's face contorted in horror. "Oh my god, that's gross!"

"I know, don't you think you would realize eventually-"

"No, I mean who eats Necco wafers anymore?" Greta clarified. "Those things are terrible, no wonder he didn't know the difference." Her friend at the table roll her eyes. "What do you even do? Do they... pass?"

She nodded her head.

"Oh, they pass," she clarified. "But there were so many of them we had to keep monitoring his intestines for blockages. He was lucky nothing got stuck, but either way they don't come out pleasantly."

"How big was the roll?"

Lorelai gave her friend an exasperated look.

"Really? Does it matter? The man ingested currency, isn't that enough of a wow factor for you?"

"Well you said it was almost half a roll, right? Well how big was what the roll? If it was a five dollar roll that's only…" She paused for a moment, performing the math in her head. "10, 10 coins. Which is an impressive amount itself, but still, the shock factor behind 'half of a roll' depends on how much the roll is worth."

"There were 17 coins that were retrieved from his excrement. He swallowed half a roll of 10 dollars worth of quarters."

"See! Now that sounds really bad!"

Lorelai decided to end the conversation there. While she wasn't a squeamish person in the slightly (her career path said at least that much about her), she didn't want to discuss bowel movements as she ate the rest of her sandwich.

Bloody horrors on the other hand...

"That same night, oh god, you will never believe what this guy got his foot stuck in…"

The afternoon would continue like this, the two sharing stories, laughing, and mentally preparing themselves for the week ahead of them. While both of the women had off from work on Mondays, they would both have full and busy days at their places of employment the next day. They loved their weekly get togethers, and they enjoyed the time they were able to have to privately talk the way only best friends of many years could. For a few hours every start of the week, they seemed to laugh like carefree kids again.

But what the two women had no way of knowing was that their giddy talks and laughter weren't as private as they thought.

They were being watched.

A few tables away from the friends sat a man and a woman, both dressed conservatively and dully as they quietly drank their beverages. The two were seated across from one another, and any passerby may have thought them to be a couple, if at least distant, sharing a meal together. The woman looked to be occupied with her phone in her hand, the man occupied with the newspaper spread out on the table before him. But what no one at the restaurant could have realized was that in reality, they were both listening very intently to the conversation taking place near them.

Neither of the two Hydra agents had made a sound for a very long while, having been here about the same timeframe as the women. They had followed the doctor from her home to this location, as they did with many of the places she went. All that could be heard between them was some light breathing before the man's phone suddenly began to ring in his pocket.

They shared a brief glance. One phone call could set anything in action.

He reached into his pocket, retrieved the device, and answered.

"Dawkins."

The person on the other end kept the message short, but most certainly not sweet. The one sided conversation was completed in less than 10 seconds, and the caller hung up the line before the agent in the restaurant had spoken another word. When the line went dead he closed his own phone as well.

The woman gave him a questioning look.

"Rumlow. The extraction is tomorrow."

The agent nodded once. Taking a sip of her coffee, she resumed discreetly watching the target once more.

"I'm clocking out," Dr. Hellman announced joyfully, elated to finally be off duty at the hospital. The exhaustion of the Tuesday, 12 hour shift she had just completed was lifted for a moment now that she was actually able to leave the building, but she could still feel the amount of hours she put in today weighting on her physically and mentally. While she loved her career tremendously, she would appreciate a shorter time she had to work it in a day's time.

"Well good for you," the nurse at the front desk mocked her, removing neither her eyes nor her hands from the computer screen and keyboard she was manning. "I on the other hand have four more hours worth of changing bandages and making sure Dr. Taft doesn't screw up anyone's medication dosages."

Lorelai smirked at her coworker mischievously, letting her bag go to the floor and leaning playfully over the desk, her chin resting over her crossed arms on the surface.

"Oh, think of it this way, Lydia," Lorelai said cheekily. "Now you can have a pleasant evening with Dr. Jackson. I mean you enjoy his company so much."

The head nurse huffed in disgust, the thought of the man she despised so much sending a ripple down her spine. She shook her head and exhaled sharply. "Yeah, more like Dr. Jackass." Sending the email she had been working on, the elder woman in the chair removed her reading glasses and looked up at the physician with a fire in her eyes that only Jackson could bring out in her. "Did I tell you he started scolding me yesterday when a patient had a reaction to penicillin? Even after I had reminded him earlier about this man's allergy? That hollow skull of his wasn't listening to me, administered it, and almost had the man seriously injured."

Lorelai's mouth gaped in shock. Such incompetency was completely unprofessional, dangerous, and just plain irresponsible. She and everyone else in the hospital expect much more of their medical personnel, and this was an inexcusable move, even for Jackson.

"Noo… What did you do?"

"What do you think I did?" she huffed, her voice and attitude raising. "I gave it right back to him! I went off on him in front of the entire night staff and patients, I didn't care one bit. And as of ten seconds ago, I have a meeting with my supervisor and I'm going to report him. I emailed her the hour it happened, and she just got back to me with a time. I hope whatever they do to him will be severe. Lord help me I don't stick him with something contaminated beforehand."

Lorelai laughed, standing up straighter now. "Now now, Lydia, you took a pledge. Nothing 'evil or malicious.'"

"I consider that more of a public service than a malicious act." The physician laughed once more, not entirely disagreeing. "So do you have any plans for the night? Hot date?"

"Well, considering it's 10pm and I smell very strongly of disinfectant, the only plans I have are with my two favorite men, Stearns and Foster."

Lydia laughed loudly at the joke, nodding her head in approval. She had been working at Benjamin Franklin long enough to know countless nights where she would forgo events or dates in favor of a good night's sleep. While their positions were different, their goals and their ideals weren't, and Lydia saw much of herself in the younger woman. That, along with Lorelai being one of the few physicians during her shift that didn't treat the nurses snobbishly and was a pleasure to be around, the coworkers developed a friendship over the two years she was working there.

"Then I'm holding you up from a good night," she said when she recovered herself. "You go, enjoy what's left of your evening."

Bending over to retrieve her bag, Lorelai grinned with pleasure as she slung the bag over her shoulder.

"Sounds good to me," she replied happily. "Thanks, Lyd, I'll see you tomorrow night."

"See ya, Lore."

With that, the physician stepped out the front doors into the cold February air.

Lorelai's apartment was a near the center of the city; it was a shoebox sized space with one bedroom, very few amenities, and bare walls she had yet to fill, even after almost two years living there. While it was hardly anything to brag about, its close proximity to the monuments made the price of her abode an almost unreasonable amount. Yet it was the cheapest unreasonable apartment she could find that still gave her everything on her very short must have list; accessibility to the hospital, heating, working plumbing, no infestations. She was glad she had these things, because she didn't have much else from what was on the list. She needed to do laundry at a local laundromat because she was lacking a washer and dryer, and she had no dishwasher; all her seasonal boxes were kept in her living room, being that there wasn't any space to store anything; the air conditioner attached to the wall broke about two tenants ago.

Her paycheck from the hospital was nothing to sneeze at; however, paying off her mountainous student loans was her first priority, and she would stay in a less than glamorous space for a while longer if it meant she could continue to make larger payments on her debt. She didn't mind it too much anyway; she had four walls, a roof that kept her dry, a small kitchen that had just what she needed, and neighbors that only got loud sometimes. All things considered, she could have gotten a lot worse in the city.

The doctor did have a car, a 2004 Silver Honda Accord that was a gift to her from her brother. However, she wasn't a fan of driving in DC and all its traffic, so she took advantage of all the public transportation the city had to offer. She typically took the DC metro the most, enjoying the simplicity and reliability of the rails. There was a metro station about two blocks from the hospital that she used every time she came into work, and with only one transfer, she could end up back home to the station that was just a block from her apartment. So she set off in the familiar direction, wrapping her arms around herself as she shivered against the chill of the night. The warmer weather of the day before already seemed like a distant memory.

The metro sign was soon coming into view on the quiet street, only a single break in the sidewalk separating her with the staircase that would take her underground. Taking a quick glance to make sure she was in the clear, she began to cross the street. At this rate she'd be home in half an hour, where she could take a decadently hot shower and crawl into bed for ten hours or more. She could almost feel the sheets covering her warmly-

"HELP!"

Lorelai's footing faltered mid step, almost tripping over herself as she jolted at the cry behind her. She whipped around, her head darting back and forth to try and locate the source of the cries, finding nothing at first. She started to quickly retrace her steps, desperately searching for anything out of place, but seeing nothing.

"Hello?" she called loudly, hoping the person would make themselves known once more. "Hello!"

"HELP!"

The cry was louder, closer this time, and was most definitely coming from where she just want passed by. She saw no one on the road directly in front of her, but there was an intersection a couple feet away where another street began around the corner. She suspected whatever was happening was happening there. She hadn't noticed anything when she walked by previously, but that didn't mean much; in a city like DC, people were always coming and going.

Suddenly, her suspicions were confirmed when the person seeking help turned the corner running, his strides wide and powerful. He was a large, well built man who was dressed in casual but warm clothing, and his short black hair was spiked in the front slightly, though it was very disarrayed at the moment. His strong face was contorted in concern and panic, his breathing was heavy, and he looked all around distressed.

"Please, please help!" he was yelling in a frenzy, stopping himself just a foot short of barreling into her like a train. He began to spit out the situation in a hurry, his words jumbling together and being repeated. "My friend- my friend he, he just collapsed and he won't get up, I can't wake him up!"

"Sir, calm down," Lorelai began, her clinical persona taking over as she tried to get the facts as quickly as possible. It was the same persona that appeared whenever there was a patient needing immediate attention in the ER, and she was getting the feeling this was becoming one of those situations. "What happened? Where is your friend?"

"My friend Tom and I were walking back from the bar, and we were about to cross the street and he-he just collapsed!" he repeated himself, a little more comprehensible now.

"Alright, sir, I'm a doctor at Benjamin Franklin," she stated quickly. She could see the man's expression shift slightly, a little relief reaching his eyes. "Now tell me, did he drink too much?"

"No, he had like, two beers!"

She mentally ruled out alcohol poisoning. A reaction perhaps? It wouldn't matter what she thought if she couldn't check this man out herself. She needed to locate him.

"Where is he?"

The man looked around anxiously, continually stepping from side to side from the stress of the situation.

"Down the street, around the corner," he answered hastily. "Please, can you help, he was still on the ground..."

Then why would you leave him? Lorelai chided him mentally. But taking in the man's state, she just assumed he wasn't in the right mind. She didn't know the relationship between the man and this friend of his, but judging by the reaction, she assumed they had to be close.

"Take me to him," she commanded, and the man immediately nodded and began running in the direction of his fallen friend. Clutching her bag tightly in her fist, she took off after him.

"Did you call 911?" she yelled to the man racing in front of her. She saw him nod hurriedly.

"Yeah, yeah, they said they'd be here soon!" he called back.

She nodded to herself. At least he remembered to do that.

They ran for a few moments, and when they made it to the end of the sidewalk, the man turned the corner, Lorelai following close behind. It was then that the other end of the she caught a glimpse of her newest patient; from what she could see, there was a man lying on the sidewalk, not appearing to be moving. She had no idea how long the man had been unconscious, but from what she could piece together from the man's story, it couldn't have been long. Depending on the severity of his situation, he may still get out of this okay.

The doctor quickened her pace, knowing very well that time was valuable in these few critical minutes. Having passed the small side street just ahead, the man ahead of her was already at his friend's side, having fallen to his knees as he resumed trying to wake the man on the ground. She was only yards away now, already beginning to open her bag, grabbing her supplies to begin her own treatments...

But Lorelai never made it past the alleyway.

The doctor was only a few feet away from the supposed victim when out of the darkness came multiple hands and arms wrapping themselves around her, pulling her into the clutches of the men waiting for her. She was so shocked at the sudden attack that she couldn't grasp what was happening to her. Everything was happening too quickly, as intended, and her mind couldn't catch up with the situation. She wasn't even given the opportunity to scream as a needle was stuck into her neck. The only feeling she could truly comprehend was the pain of the slender metal piercing her skin, but her senses were soon becoming blurred together. She was unconscious within seconds, and her body was swiftly taken away, no one the wiser as to what just happened.

Lorelai didn't move or make a sound in the chair she occupied, her arms crossed and her eyes refusing to meet the gaze of the blond, suited man that sat across from her. She didn't know whether it was her fear or her anger that was keeping her so silent, but whichever it was, it was doing the trick.

The older man, who was sitting behind a desk that looked like it had seen better days, had already introduced himself as Alexander Pierce when she was forced into the room and 'gently' encouraged to take a seat. He also identified the other man in the room, the man she thought was trying to help his friend and instead brought her here, as Agent Brock Rumlow. She shuttered at the thought; she had no idea where 'here' was. It didn't help that she still felt very disoriented. Whatever drug they had knocked her out with was still lingering in her system, and she had woken up in a dark room only minutes before being roughly lead into this new room where the man was waiting.

"Lorelai Langley Hellman."

Pierce saying her name out loud was enough to make her jump in her seat. He was reading from a file on the desk, and she felt her palms start to sweat as she realized it was her file. They had a file on her. Why? Why was she here? What the hell is going on?

"You're a graduate of the NYU School of Medicine," he continued slowly, deliberately, his posture very relaxed. It was as if she had come here willingly for a job interview. "You've successfully completed all your training and you now are now an emergency room physician at Benjamin Franklin University Hospital down here in DC." He continued to read a few things on the file he didn't share out loud, taking a few moments to do so. Then, with a small smile, he looked up at her.

"You have a very impressive resume, Dr. Hellman," he complimented her genuinely. "You're a very intelligent woman."

She wanted to gag at the statement.

"Obviously not intelligent enough to know when I'm being tricked," Lorelai muttered angrily, still not looking up at him. She felt anything but intelligent as she sat in this dingy, dimly lit room with this man in front of her, another scarier looking man somewhere out of sight behind her. She replayed the entire incident of her kidnapping over and over in her head, trying to look for any warning signs she missed. But the man who approached her, Rumlow, had seemed so genuine, so concerned about his "injured friend" who wouldn't get up from the ground. She was a doctor. Her job and her duty was to help those in situations just like this.

"Ah, she speaks," Pierce stated happily, pleased to have gotten something out of her. "You've been very quiet since you've been here."

"Because not only did you trick me and bring me to this godforsaken place, you played on my instincts to help people."

Pierce seemed to consider this for a moment, but as he leaned back in his chair, he made it very clear he was in no way remorseful for the order he gave.

"We thought it was the easiest way, maybe even the least traumatic," he explained with such casualness it made Lorelai's head pound. "This was certainly the option with the least amount of witnesses. I mean, we've had plenty of opportunity. We could have taken you at the hospital. Or in your home while you slept. Or during your lunch yesterday with your friend, Greta."

The man saying Greta's name made a wave of nausea hit her stomach. Was she in danger as well now? She prayed her friend wasn't, the thought of Greta in the kind of situation currently made a line of sweat appear on her forehead. She was processing too much overwhelming information at once; Someone was watching her? Knew where she lived? Who were these people who talked so nonchalantly about kidnapping her from her own bed in the middle of the night?

"You see, Dr. Hellman, we've been keeping tabs on you for awhile," Pierce continued. His statement made Lorelai's stomach churn uncomfortably. "We're always in need of new physicians, and someone with your skills could be very valued here." When she didn't respond he continued. "Also, both of your parents are dead, and your brother was killed in action three years ago, so there aren't many other people keeping tabs on you, which makes it easier for you to disappear than some of our previous physicians."

For the first time she turned to face him, her eyes like daggers. How dare he bring her family into this.

"Go to hell," she spat at the man, her tone absolutely venomous. "Who hell are you people? Where am I? What makes you think you can just do this to me?"

A grin came to Pierce's lips.

"We are Hydra. This is our primary operations base in DC."

The doctor had heard that name before, most of the world had.

"No, there's no way," Lorelai protested, refusing to believe what he just said. "Captain America stopped Hydra in the 40s." She kept her statement short, believing in its truthfulness.

Pierce nodded agreeingly.

"Yes, there was a short time when our future looked pretty bleak," he admitted amiably. "But the funny thing about us is… if you cut off one head, two will take its place. Since the captain hit the water all those years ago, we have grown exponentially, while keeping our existence unknown to the outside world. Quite successfully, I might add, as you have just demonstrated."

The woman was stunned into silence. She didn't know how to retort, or if she should. She didn't want to believe him, but… should she? Why would he lie about who they were? With everything that was happening to her, was it really that hard to believe they were Hydra? A part of her wanted to say no. Every middle school curriculum had a section about Captain America and Hydra in their history books, so from a young age she had known about the evils the organization had done during World War II. She had also been taught that they were eradicated after their short lived success in the 40s.

But what would they gain from lying to her if they were? Were they doing it to scare her? They didn't need to tell her they were a part of an old school Nazi death league to do that. They had already drugged and kidnapped her, and brought her to his cold, dirty, broken place. She was already afraid.

Whether she was going to accept his statement or not, she wanted no part in this operation, or anything it was about.

"What makes you believe I would ever help you?" she demanded of the man. Her voice shook slightly. "What, you don't have doctors here, people as twisted as you to fix you up? Why the hell would you want me?"

"We find that physicians that work in this sector don't tend to… last very long." Lorelai's stomach twisted in the implication. What was that supposed to mean? "We simply don't want to spare our resources. We brought you in because you're a physician, and a talented one at that."

"What happened to your last doctor?"

Pierce folded his hands, drumming his fingertips together slowly. He seemed to be choosing his wording very carefully.

"Dr. Turk could no longer perform his duties here and has since been… removed, from his position."

Lorelai averted his gaze for the next few moments, feeling her heart begin to beat faster. What he was insinuating was enough for her. She got the message.

"We need someone to treat our injured and, that is your job, isn't it?" the man before her questioned her. "To heal people, make them better?"

"So I heal your people so they can hurt other people," she stated bitterly.

Pierce smiled very lightly then, amused by her remark. He didn't deny what she was saying, however.

"And if I don't?" she retorted.

Pierce's face dropped abruptly, the cool, easygoing demeanor he had previously quickly replaced with a malicious scowl. His shift in emotion was almost comical, but Lorelai knew immediately this was no laughing matter.

"Then we have no use for you."

As soon as the words left his lips, Lorelai heard the unmistakable sound of a magazine being loaded into a gun next to her head. She jumped in her chair, a small whimper escaping her throat when she looked towards the noise to see Rumlow standing at her side. She didn't even hear the man walk to up next to her, and now he was casting a menacing shadow over her, his weapon of choice directly in her line of vision.

She whipped her head back towards Pierce, trying to imagine that the barrel of the gun she was just staring down was anywhere but right next to her.

"I haven't done anything to you," Lorelai tried to reason, her eyes pleading now. She tried to keep the panic out of her voice, but the gun pointed directly to her temple wasn't doing much for her nerves. "Why would you kill me?"

Pierce shrugged, as if the answer was very simple and uncomplicated.

"You've seen my face, you've seen his," he gestured to the man with the weapon. "You even know our names now. Who's to say you wouldn't cause us problems down the road if we let you go? Not that you'd get very far. We have agents in every sector of the government, FBI, CIA, NSA, Shield…"

Well the listing of any of the sectors made her stomach twist in dread, that last organization he mentioned was what really gave her pause.

"Shield?" she said, the name giving her pause. "They're the good guys."

She really did believe that, that Shield was trying to help the world, even if they made mistakes of their own. She had almost completed her fellowship when New York was attacked two years ago, and while the hospital she was at had suffered minimal damage structurally, they were near the epicenter of the attack, and had been one of the hospitals to receive the most injured when the fighting had finally stopped and the portal was closed. But during the action, one of the aliens, a Chitauri she knew they were called, had come into the ER and began to take the doctors and patients hostage, lining them up against a wall and aiming a frightening, foreign weapon at them. That was until one of the Avengers, the woman with incredible fighting abilities and striking red hair, had came in and quickly disabled the monster that attacked them, jumping on its shoulders and shocking it with some weapon on her wrists. She wasn't even in the building for more than two minutes and yet she had saved everyone in the ER and probably the hospital. She didn't stay for thank yous or niceties. She took out her target and moved onto the next one, exiting the building before anyone had even left the wall they were forced against. Lorelai would forever be grateful for that.

She knew the Avengers stood with Shield, and she would do stand with anyone they did.

"That's a matter of opinion." Pierce sighed, as if he was disappointed he was getting nowhere with this conversation. "Dr. Hellman, if you're really choosing to not comply with our orders, then that's your decision. And we'll simply have to act on that decision." The gun next to Lorelai's head had its safety unclicked, making her jump. She felt her blood turn to ice. "You may be the first doctor on our list, but it's a list because others come after you. It may be a bit messier than we hoped but Rumlow here could very easily find a shallow place for your body to go. And someone else will take your place in this very seat." He casually gestured to her position for a moment. "I believe the next name was also a woman's…"

There was a file on his desk he opened very purposefully then, and after a moment of searching the papers, he found what he was looking for. "Vanessa Caro, yes, that was it." He paused for another moment, continuing to read the information they had on this poor, unsuspecting woman. "It says here, she has a husband, David, and three young children, Valentina, Elena, and Lucas."

Pierce closed the file, looking back to her with an inquisitive expression, as if this woman's life was a piece of trivia he was trying to solve.

"I wonder how she would hold up in your position," he said lightly, scratching his chin in contemplation. "I wonder if she would show the same stubbornness you are. She is a few years older than you, but not by much. It'll be interesting to see if age really does bring wisdom."

Lorelai knew what he was doing; he was manipulating her, telling her that if she didn't follow through, this woman, a woman with a family depending on her, would take her doomed place. He was making her feel selfish, like this decision was all on her; whatever was going to happen next was her doing. And though she was fully aware of these sinister mind games being used against her, she was disheartened to realize that they were working. She was starting to understand what he meant about doctors not lasting long around here.

The suited devil then ended with the finishing blow.

"And I wonder what her children would think when their mom goes missing."

That sentence was the one that broke her.

The doctor took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to bite back the waves of nausea hitting her like the tides. There was no winning in this situation.

What was the point of saying no, Lorelai thought dejectedly. If she did she'd be dead, never to be seen or heard from again as her body was disposed of in some shallow grave far away from here or in the middle of the ocean. And then this woman would have her life ruined as well, and not just hers but the lives of her husband, her children, and whatever other family and friends this woman had. There was no point in so many lives being destroyed today when just hers would do.

Pierce sighed dramatically. "Well, I guess we're going to find out how her children-"

"No," she cut him off, feeling her breath catch in her throat as she did so. She opened her eyes and tried to steel herself for the next few moments. She needed to be strong somehow.

The sides of the Secretary's lips twitched upward for a fraction of a second before returning to their grim straight line.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked of her, his professional, light tone masking the menace behind it.

Lorelai took a deep breath before continuing, looking Alexander Pierce straight in the eyes. For the first time she was glad she was seated; she didn't know if her legs would hold her at the moment.

"I won't let you hurt that woman like this," she declared weakly, her hands gripping themselves so tightly they were turning white. "I'll do whatever you want me to, just… don't…"

The gun to the side of her head was lowered, the safety clicked back into place. Lorelai thought she would feel better once the weapon was put away, but she was finding a new sense of anxiety was filling her stomach; she had just sold her soul to a devil she never knew existed.

"Excellent," Pierce proclaimed spiritedly, sitting back in his seat comfortably. "I'm pleased you made the reasonable decision, Dr. Hellman."

'Dr. Hellman' raised her head towards the man before her, her eyes flashing

"You're all monsters," she stated matter of factly. Pierce smiled, unruffled by her comment.

"That, too, is a matter of opinion." He then looked up to the man standing next to her and nodded once. The rough man took a few steps away from the chair but stayed close. Apparently a gun to her head wasn't needed anymore.

Pierce cleared his throat then, his demeanor all business and professional now that she had 'agreed' to be their new physician. A few items needed to be discussed, but for the most part, her role was very cut and dry.

"Now, your position here is simple," he began, now sitting up straighter in his chair. "We have agents frequently returning this base with varying injuries. You're expected to treat whatever is ailing them so they can return to duty as quickly as possible."

"I'm not a surgeon," Lorelai injected then, feeling the need to make that known. "If one of your agents needs a heart transplant, then you're looking at the wrong specialist."

"If something that dramatic should arise, we will seek other means," he informed her. "And if the time and circumstance would allow it, we would rely on you to tell us if something of that nature would be necessary. However, allow me to make something very clear." His tone changed dramatically then, the flip-flopping in his behavior making her head spin. When he spoke next he didn't try and hide the malice that he was truly capable of, articulating his thought very plainly. He leaned over the desk, looming over her. "If you allow any of our men to die and you possessed the ability to save them, if you didn't give their life your very best effort, that bullet to your brain will come very quickly. Consider this your only warning on this topic."

She held his hard gaze, a flame of rage flickering in the base of her belly at the insinuation she would like someone die out of spite. She wouldn't, couldn't, let someone die if she could have helped it, even bad men. That wasn't in her nature. She made her next remark out of rebellion more than anything else.

"Don't tempt me."

Pierce's eyes flicked at her for her words, but let the comment slide for the time being, knowing his point had been made. His tone then let up for a moment after, masking his true demeanor once again and sitting back in his chair.

"Just think of it as you treating any other person who may come through your hospital's doors."

She didn't respond because one wasn't needed. She would never think of it that way, and he already knew that.

Now that these details were discussed, the Secretary continued onto final and most important topic that needed to be reviewed before she departed.

"There is one subject you will be assigned to look over in particular during your time here." He then reached for another file on the desk, and after locating it, he, to Lorelai's surprise, handed it to her. She hesitantly took the papers, and opened the file very slowly, as if it might snap at her. When it was finally all out in front of her, she began to read it over, looking for the most pertinent details. The papers contained the findings of what looked like multiple stress tests varying in difficulty and tasks, and health exams. There was no picture to put a face to these findings. Not a name either. The terms identifying the patient these were done on were "subject" or "Asset".

But as Lorelai looked over the data and compared it to the man's physical build, she started to believe she was being duped somehow. In fact, it didn't matter the man's weight, build, age, height, anything. The results she was reading weren't just ridiculous; they were comical.

"See anything worth sharing?" Pierce probed her after a few moments, watching her read the findings and seeing the crease of confusion come across her forehead. She looked up at him, her eyes both confused and angered.

"Is this a joke?" she asked, exasperation climbing its way into her tone. "These vitals... stress tests don't make any sense. This cannot be the real data."

Pierce's neutral expression didn't change.

"All the data you are reading is accurate. They are the real findings of studies on the patient."

Lorelai cocked her head to the side, her face falling into an irritated, "yeah f-ing right" expression.

"Oh, really?" she challenged the man sitting in front of her. "Not only do you have this patient documented running at speeds of 50 miles per hour, but the patient isn't displaying any signs of cardiac stress while doing it. And, oh, what's this I see?" She pointed to a sentence on the sheet that was catching her eye. "'The calculated maximum weight the subject has withstood is 2150 pounds'? 'Minimal cardiac stress'." She looked back up at Pierce. "That's a car. You're saying this patient can hold a car and remain not under serious stress?"

Pierce's expression now beamed slightly.

"This patient... He is not a normal man."

That stopped Lorelai short.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"This man has been altered genetically. He was at one time an average soldier. However, after some… modifications, he now has enhanced strength and peak human stamina, both of which you have already pointed out, as well as peak human speed, durability, reflexes, agility, and healing."

"So he's like Captain America or something?"

Pierce's gaze on her turned hard after her comment, the name seeming to aggravate the man. For fear of poking the bear, she bit back some of the satisfaction she felt.

"What, touchy subject?"

Pierce didn't respond to the snide remark. His reaction made Lorelai smiled on the inside, happy to strike a nerve with the man, finally. Not only that, but it also verified that the Captain wasn't in on this whole undercover operation she was being introduced to. At least some things remain uncorrupted...

"This man is invaluable in our line of work and he is to be treated as a top priority. I want you to perform weekly examinations, administer his medication, and treat him when he returns from missions."

"If he heals quickly why do you need me to treat him?"

"He can't heal if he bleeds out. His healing abilities and durability are heightened but it won't stop a bullet from going through him."

The doctor was silent, contemplating her next response.

"What are the medications for?" Lorelai questioned next, thinking it would require a simply reply Pierce could answer. Instead the man's face paused blankly for a moment. He seemed to be silently turning something over in his head as she sat there wondering why his answer needed such consideration. He soon regained his composure.

"I really don't believe you need to be priviledge to that information," informed her matter of factly.

She raised a brow in defiance.

"Yes, I do need to know," Hellman replied angrily, irritated at the answer she received. How did they expect her to do her job correctly if they didn't give her all the details? "You want me to be his physician, and I need to know what ails my patient. What are you medicating him for?"

Pierce was quiet for moment, going over his thoughts once more. He seemed to determine it would just be easier to give her an answer than keep her in the dark and have her retaliating. He sighed deeply.

"The soldier is being treated for a post traumatic stress diagnosis. His medications help to manage his anxiety."

His answer was logical, reasonable, able to be easily explained and augmented, and if she challenged this, he would probably have the facts and details to back up his answer. It was a good excuse and she almost believed him. Almost.

She knew he was lying the second the words left his lips.

"You're sending a man with PTSD into battle," she stated with gritted teeth, not fighting his lie for the time being. "How do you expect that to go over? Aren't you worried about damaging his mentality further?"

"You let us worry about that." There was no room for arguments. She stayed quiet. She didn't know how far she would be able to push this man yet.

"What you may want to know is that his left arm is made entirely of metal," Pierce added.

Lorelai raised a brow.

"Like a prosthetic? I don't have expertise in working with prosthetics."

Pierce nodded. "It serves as his prosthetic, but it is worlds more intricate than any other you have ever seen. You'll see what I mean soon enough," he added vaguely. "I've told you more for courtesy's sake. We have technicians for that piece of him, but you may want to stay clear of it."

Lorelai cringed mentally at his wording. They talked of his man like he was slab of meat. And 'stay clear of it'? She didn't like the sounds of that. She didn't like the sounds of anything he was saying.

Before she could question him further, Pierce began to rise from his seat behind the desk. It seemed that he believed there was nothing more worth discussing for the time being.

Lorelai stayed planted to her seat, unsure of what was about happen to her next.

"Now, Rumlow is going to take you to your room and get you settled," Pierce stated cordially, that masking smile once again burning into her vision. "It's a been a pleasure, Dr. Hellman." His eyes darkened as he stood before her, casting a shadow over her in the lighting. "I hope your arrangement with us isn't quick to end."

With those parting words, he stepped to the side and helped himself out of the room, leaving Lorelai to stare at the now empty desk with a heavy heart and a trembling torso. The room was silent now that the man had left, and she could hear her heart pounding in her chest with anticipation. What was going to happen now? Was she supposed to follow? Was this where she was supposed to work? Was she-

"Let's go," Rumlow ordered her from above then, suddenly back at her side. She jumped at his tone and his abrupt appearance, having not heard him come up from behind her. She met his eyes hesitantly, unnerved but unsurprised at the cold, careless look that met her. He obviously had no intentions of keeping face with her. Not that she wanted him to create some fake facade like Pierce had; she had no intentions of showing him any cordiality as well. He began to march away from her without another word.

The doctor slowly arose from her seat with uncertainty in her step, and followed the man who was already out the door before she began moving. Impatient much. Nevertheless she quickened her pace to keep up with him, not wanting to get lost in this building, wherever the hell she was.

This was the first time Lorelai was actually able to take in her surroundings. When she was lead down the hallway into the room the first time, she was scared out of her mind but also groggy from the effects of whatever drugs they had knocked her out with. But now that she was more alert, she could drink in the details from around her. The hallway they journeyed down was poorly lit; most of the light fixtures were outdated, dirty, and some of them were blinking wildly. The design of the corridor looked like that of an office building at first. They passed many rooms with the doors hanging from their hinges, some of which had no doors entirely. When she dared a look inside one of them, it happened to be one with agents inside, standing around a table with a laptops and maps, speaking in hushed voices. When they noticed her lingering eyes, they stopped their whispering abruptly, training their piercing stares at her. She snapped her head away and picked up her pacing. It wasn't hard to see that they were all armed.

As Rumlow took her deeper into the building, she began to notice some more distinguishing features that could give her a clue as to where she was. Their location began to look less like an office space and more like a fortress, the floors shifting from dirty carpeting to hard, old linoleum and the air growing colder. There were large gates on some of the doorways that looked vaguely familiar, as if she'd seen something like them before, but she couldn't explain why. It wasn't until they reached a particularly well fortified section of the hallway that she finally began to piece some things together. Looking to the walls, and she noticed that they looked to be covered with safety deposit boxes, some of which were opened and dented, all of which looked as though they had seen better years.

Was she in a bank?

Rumlow suddenly began to bark at Lorelai once more, pulling her from her observations. She jumped at his outburst. She supposed she was going to have to get used to it. He began to 'share' a few more details as he marched in front of her, not bothering to give her even a side glance as he did so.

"For the time being you will be able to move about the base on your own, but do anything stupid and that privilege will quickly be taken away from you," he told her, his voice, while loud and commanding, sounding almost disinterested. "All entrances and exits have armed guards at all hours, and they all know your face; escape won't end well for you. Do you understand?"

The doctor gave a very small sound of a response. She didn't think she could manage much more at the moment.

After another moment's of walking Rumlow paused in front of a seemingly random door, turning around to stand directly in front of her. He gestured for her to go inside first, making her eye him suspiciously. However, his cold stare wasn't relenting in any way, and she didn't have another choice. With a hesitant turn of her wrist she opened the door and stepped inside.

The small room, unlike the space outside the door, was much cleaner than she had expected, the beige carpeting looking less tread upon and the lighting much brighter. The room was a decent size, about the size of a dorm room, and the walls matched the floors in color. There was a cot with what looked like clean, paper thin sheets and a pillow in the right hand corner of the room. The room had no window, unsurprisingly.

Her medical bag was on the bed, making her heart skip a beat at the recognition. She had forgotten she had it with her when she was taken, and somehow seeing something of hers in the room gave her a small comfort. She walked hurriedly over to the bed and unzipped the heavy, sturdy pack. Quickly shuffling through it, she was disheartened, but unsurprised to find that her phone was missing. Great.

"This is your room," the agent explained quickly, his body mostly turned towards the door as if he was preparing to leave. "Bathrooms and water access are across the hall, food is brought in everyday in the area we passed at 9, 2, and 5, but it is open all the time. Go there for your meals, take what you want. In the drawers you'll find clothes and anything else you might need. If there is anything dire you should need, you tell one of us." She got by the tone of his voice that there would be few things he would consider 'dire' enough for him to actually go and get.

Lorelai went to the shelf and opened the drawers one by one. True to his word, there were multiple bland gray shirts and sweatpants, both men's and women's by the looks of it, and all her necessary toiletries; shampoo, soap, toothpaste, feminine supplies… And there was a lot of it. Enough to last her a long time...

The doctor turned to Rumlow, her eyes lacking the confident she sorely needed right now.

"How long do you expect me to be here?" she demanded of the man, feeling her heart begin to pound rapidly in her chest.

He shrugged lazily, a sigh leaving him before his answer did.

"As long as we need you."

Without another word the agent left the room, closing the door behind him.

The room was silent and she was absolutely still as the woman stood alone. That was until she heard a half gasp, half wail leave her throat, the sound erupting for split second before she covered her own mouth with her hands. Slowly moving her feet to the cot, she took a seat as her weight suddenly became too much to carry. She felt like she was able to vomit, a bead of sweat lining her forehead.

What was happening?

Can this chapter get any larger? It could have. I was going to introduce Bucky as well, but 10000+ words later, I thought better of it. I wrote a few things on my profile if you'd like to know what's happening with some of my other work. Hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think.