I'm alive! My involuntary hiatus from writing is over hooray!

Hopefully everyone hasn't totally forgotten about this story... :/

Ch. 3

-Hostage-

Crash!

Peggy sat bolt upright in bed, jarring to sudden wakefulness at the muffled sounds bleeding through her thin walls. Her mind was still trying to catch up with her body's instincts as she listened intently for any other noise.

A muffled shout came from Angie's room and the thud of a piece of furniture being knocked over.

She was out of bed in an instant, throwing the blankets aside haphazardly and running barefoot towards the door. Peggy dashed into the dim hallway, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She knew the sounds of a struggle when she heard them. Someone was in Angie's room! Dear god if they hurt her…

"What's going on?" Sarah stuck her head cautiously out her door looking worried as Peggy burst into the hall.

Peggy ignored the other girl, desperately trying to turn the knob of Angie's door. It was locked. "Angie! Angie can you hear me?" She yelled.

Peggy stepped back, gathering up the silk fabric of her night dress so she could kick in the door. As her foot connected solidly with the wood there were several surprised gasps behind her.

The muscle in her leg forced the lock to pop, sending the door slamming inwards. The knob left a dent in the flora wallpaper as it bounced off the wall with a great shudder.

"Angie?"

Peggy ran inside to find the room turned over. The window was open, the sheets rumbled, end tables and chairs knocked to the ground. And on the pale carpet, clearly visible by the bright moonlight streaming in the window, was a splatter of fresh crimson blood.

Her heart plummeted to the floor. Something violently close to hysteria was clawing its way up her throat.

"What is the meaning of this?" Came Mrs. Fry's shrill voice, bursting through the crowd of confused girls. She shoved her way into the room to stand beside Peggy, gaze landing on the stained carpet. "Oh dear lord." Mrs. Fry collapsed backwards in a dead faint at the sight of the blood.

Peggy did not even notice, her eyes were on the open window knowing that's where they had taken Angie. The blood on the floor was not nearly enough to be life threatening, but it was enough to fill Peggy with pure fury.

She knew this was about her. What else could it be? Her mind flashed to the two men following her earlier that evening. Had they gotten the wrong room and taken Angie by accident or was this because they saw Angie with her?

Peggy let out a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush, and certainly shocked the gaggle of scared women behind her. Come hell or high water she was getting Angie back. No way was Peggy going to lose anyone else, not again.

She opened her eyes to a headache so severe it sent a powerful wave of nausea surging through her body. Angie let out a low pitiful groan, automatically trying to roll in on herself. What the fuck happened? Her brain pulsed with throbbing pain unable to compute anything other than general confusion.

Angie concentrated on opening her eyes one lid at a time until she was able to take stock of her current surroundings. She didn't open them very wide however, it was always a tactical advantage to seemingly remain unconscious. Assuming no one had noticed her movements yet.

She was lying on her side on a slated wooden floor in a small dimly lit room. A thin layer of grime and dust coated the surface before her eyes. Angie could see a wooden table and chairs in the far corner and a stone fireplace at the opposite wall. Two dark, yet faded leather chairs rested in front of the hearth. There were two men in them.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Even in profile Angie could easily see they were the same two men who had been following Peggy earlier. Was this the infamous Leviathan or some other organization the SSR had pissed off recently? She really did not want to stick around long enough to find out.

Angie tried to move her arms without attracting attention. Her elbows were bent uncomfortably with her wrists pressed against her lower back. What felt like nylon cord - by the way it was rubbing her skin raw - prevented her from moving more than an inch in any direction. Shifting her legs, Angie found her ankles to be in the same predicament.

Oh, she was going to kill those assholes. They must have drugged her while she slept, there was no other way they could have taken her alive. Angie dimly recalled a stumbling fight in her room and a blow to the head before losing consciousness. This whole assignment was turning out to be one giant career embarrassment.

Angie glared at a stuffed owl whose glass eyes watched her from a shelf on the wall. This place had to be a hunting lodge or fishing cabin of some kind based on the rustic and overly manly décor. She would never understand the male impulse to kill furry creatures and tack their heads to the wall. Like do you really need to prove you're more evolved than a deer? Plus it just looked creepy.

"We know you are awake." Said one of the men in a horribly robotic voice without bothering to look in her direction.

Angie's skin crawled at the sound, yet she made no visible reaction, waiting to see what they were going to do. Her muscles tensed readying herself for whatever was about to happen.

"What is your relationship to Agent Carter?" The other man intoned in the same robotic voice. He swiveled slowly in his seat to face her.

His eyes were as dead as the eyes of the animals on the walls. Dark, cold tunnels. If her life had taught her anything it was to fear eyes like that. Nothing like sociopathy to make a girl's blood run cold.

"Agent?" Angie asked in her best clueless little country girl impression. She widened her blue eyes looking meek and terrified. The last thing she wanted was them to think she was anything other than the sweet, hopeful actress who knew nothing of violence.

The man raised a dark eyebrow sardonically. "What is your relationship with Miss Carter?"

Angie forced herself not to hiss at him. "She's my friend."

Holy hell, did these idiots think she was part of Peggy's team? She might just die of the irony. Though she might just die anyway…

"Miss Carter has something we want. She will retrieve it for us in exchange for your safety."

A ransom? Angie really was going to die of the irony. She sat up as best she could in the restraints and glared at the men staring at her impassively. "And what makes you think she'll do that for me?"

"Faith, Miss Martinelli."

The shorter man raised a small revolver-like weapon from his lap and fired. Angie rolled to the left on instinct, dodging the dart which sank into the wall behind her. But she was not fast enough to miss the second one.

Angie cried out in anger as the small needle pierced the flesh of her leg. "Mother fu-" She hissed as she slipped back into blissful oblivion.

The police were everywhere. They had the terrified girls of Griffith Hotel corralled in the lobby and were interviewing them one by one. Peggy was spared this by flashing her not-so-accurate badge at the detective in charge. Today she was a proud member of the NYPD, one of their few female officers.

Peggy riffled through Angie's room searching for any clue, any hint as to where she had been taken or who had taken her. Her fury and panic had been swallowed down by the military training which taught her to stay calm in the face of any disaster. Though that did not prevent the back of her mind from running through every horrifying situation imaginable. Peggy had to shove visions of Angie dead in an ally and worse from her brain or her hands would not stop shaking.

"Jesus Christ!" Peggy hissed yanking her hand back from the dresser drawer she was inspecting.

Something sharp had sliced open the tip of her index finger. Cautiously she moved aside a pile of stockings to reveal several large shards of broken mirror. What in the world? Bits of red stained the edges of a few pieces, blood old and dried. It looked as if someone had smashed the mirror with their own flesh or had been thrown into it.

Carefully she began pulling out the pieces and setting them on top the dresser. If you were searching for a clue then anything out of place was worth investigating - and this was certainly out of place. Peggy's finger paused on the edge of the drawer liner. There was a small crack between the bottom and the sides. Her eyes scanned the outside noting there was at least three inches depth unaccounted for.

It was a false bottom.

After a minute, she was able to pop it open and reveal the single device hidden inside. It was some kind of advanced technology, and Peggy had seen plenty of advanced technology in her day, but this was something different. It looked like some prop Hollywood would cook up for one of their science fiction movies.

As Peggy turned it over in her hands dread filled the marrow in her bones. Why would Angie have this? How could she have this? A bead of blood from her cut finger tip smeared onto its surface. Suddenly a screen flickered to life.

UNAUTHORIZED

The words were emblazoned across the red insignia of Hydra.