Just Clone Or Something More?

Sonora, Mexico The helicopter’s main rotor was still spinning, raising columns of dust and sand within a radius of several meters around. Richard Fisk deftly jumped onto the solid ground, buttoned up his fluttering green jacket, and followed behind the two fighters, wearing the red HYDRA emblem on their uniforms. He was led along the corridors for a long time, turning either to the right or the left, going down the elevator, and passing through dozens of iron doors. Fisk tapped nervously with the toe of his boot as one of the escorts entered a code on the dashboard or pressed a card key against a greenish flat panel. Richard Fisk had heard that Dr. Gonzalez was paranoid, but even the head of the HYDRA branch in Nevada was genuinely amazed at this level of security. When Richard Fisk was stopped near the wide double doors and tried to be searched, the man’s patience quickly approached a critical point. — I’m sorry, Mr. Fisk, but those are the rules,” one of the guards apologized, taking an automatic revolver from his shoulder holster. — Does Dr. Gonzalez seriously think I went all the way to shoot him?” Fisk asked with bile in his voice. — He thinks that everyone always wants to kill him,” the guard grunted, continuing to search the man. — Okay, clean. You can pass. The guard stepped aside, and Fisk, looking at him with displeasure, ordered his man, with whom he had flown in together and made all this torture journey, to wait outside. In the vast hall, which served as a laboratory and part-time office of the well-known doctor Gonzalez in the right circles, there was a tart smell of coffee, a barely perceptible taste of drugs, and a light, almost imperceptible scent of burnt flesh. Richard Fisk even froze for a second, breathing hard. The front of the room was richly and luxuriously furnished. A substantial Persian carpet spread out on the floor depicted intricate patterns. On a heavy oak table rested high piles of papers; there was a snow-white cup and a computer, from which a lot of wires went down, running deep into the opposite wall. — Mr. Fisk! — the doctor was sitting on a leather sofa, crossing his legs and making notes in a notebook. — How did you get there? — Thanks, that’s quite good,” Fisk replied dryly, stepping onto the soft carpet. Damian Gonzalez was a short, lean man with a mop of thick, dark, curly hair that was graying in places. He looked about fifty years old; on the doctor’s dark, long face was a self-satisfied expression; prominent, sunken brown eyes rapidly studied the incoming Fisk from head to toe, and an incomprehensible sly smile played on his plump lips. — The Hydra Supreme himself decided to honor Mexico with his presence. I am thrilled to finally meet you in person. How are things going in the Great States? Richard Fisk managed a sort of smile. At the same time, Damian Gonzalez got up from the couch, casually tossing his notebook on the floor, and stood next to Fisk, who was almost two heads taller than the doctor. — You know how things are with us,” Fisk replied, glancing incredulously at the doctor, who was studying the man’s face with great interest’. And you know why I’m here. — Sí, even here, we heard about the death of Señor Pierce and the collapse of Project.” — But you don’t care, do you? — Alexander Pierce’s whole plan stank of failure from the start. But it’s not about Pierce or SHIELD, but about one type that threatens us all with big problems. — Who is this scoundrel? Gonzalez chuckled as he walked back to his desk. — Captain America,” Fisk grimaced. — He’s smashing HYDRA bases across the country, getting closer and closer to ours, to my base. I can’t let my work collapse and fall into the hands of this beefed-up moralist. — So, your people can’t cope?” the doctor sang, turning to face him. The doctor’s accent was heavy, so it was difficult for Richard Fisk to understand from the first second what his interlocutor was talking about. — They’re not coping,” Fisk nodded, shooting the doctor a furious look. This Mexican already knew everything, Fisk had no doubt about it, but the pompous rooster wanted Richard to confess his failure, his weakness, and the weakness of the people of HYDRA so that he begged for the help of a black angel; Gonzalez got such a nickname in his time, and which has been attached to him until now. Fisk wasn’t the type of person to ask for help, but the circumstances in this case were critical. It was clear that if he allowed the Captain to take the materials and get the secret information stored at the Nevada base, Fisk would not last long, even if he remained alive. And no connections will help him in this. — Dr. Gonzalez, it’s not just about me; it’s about you too,” Richard said, running his hand through his short red hair. — Sooner or later, Captain America will get to you. It’s not a threat; it’s a fact. Someone will blather, betray, and leak information in exchange for life and pardon. The Avenger does not act alone. With him, a whole company of various freaks, and they are strong. One of them is a famous green guy; you should know who I’m talking about now. A sly smile slipped from Gonzalez’s lips, and fright shone in his brown eyes for a second. The Doctor nodded, showing that he understood and was listening to Fisk carefully. — The Winter Soldier vanished with Pierce’s project. No one can find him as he sinks into the water. Maybe he died in the crash of the helicarriers.” Fisk trailed off, feeling himself begin to shake. Dr. Gonzalez narrowed his eyes a little, pressing a thin finger to his lips. — Therefore, we need your weapon, doctor.” The Mexican laughed softly, placing his hand on the tabletop. He seemed to be still thinking about Fisk’s request, even though he’d decided long ago. Gonzalez straightened up abruptly and gestured for the visitor to follow him. They went to the opposite corner of the room, where there was a small wooden door. As they walked, Gonzalez began to speak, throwing on a white lab coat. — I’m surprised that Alexander did not immediately contact me when the situation began to heat up. When he took the Winter Soldier for himself, I warned that the object might be unstable, that sooner or later, the Soldier might get out of control, and the human essence would take over the soulless machine. Gonzalez made air quotation marks on his last words, then held his thumb up to a small panel on the wall. There was a soft squeak, and the doctor pushed the door away from him. A long, dark corridor stretched ahead, and Fisk rolled his eyes involuntarily. More corridors. — The problem is not even in the encoding or some failure. The Winter Soldier is not a machine that, if shorted, can be restarted. Alexander did not understand this; he believed human nature could be destroyed. And this is his primary and fatal mistake. The doctor’s voice echoed off the stone walls of the corridor, drifting far ahead. Fisk began to shake a little as the temperature gradually dropped, and an unpleasant buzzing grew in his ears. This meant that they were going down underground. The Doctor continued his tirade, gesticulating emotionally, turning to Fisk and raising his thick black eyebrows meaningfully. — I’m not saying that the Winter Soldier program failed, en ningún caso* (by no means)! Mr. Barnes was a real breakthrough. Have you ever met the Winter Soldier, Señor Fisk? — No,” Richard snapped, shaking from cold and steam rising from his mouth. — Thank God. — Oh, I saw him, and more than once. And he was terrific,” the doctor sighed, approaching the end of the tunnel, where another door was waiting for them. — As I said, the problem of the Soldier and the entire program was in a tiny but essential element — memory. It was conflicting memories and simple human affection broke Alexander Pierce’s machine, and nothing could be done about it. — Then how is your weapon different from the Soldier?” Fisk asked as Gonzalez opened another dashboard and bent down to it. A thin red beam quickly scanned the retina of the doctor’s left eye, and then the man began to dial a code on a nearby panel. — I know that your project is part of the Winter Soldier program. Where is the guarantee that your offspring will also not break under the onslaught of human affection? — It’s simple, Mr. Fisk,” the doctor smiled, opening a robust iron door and letting the guest go first. — My child has no such attachments. More precisely, they were, but we erased everything to zero. The room was warmer than the tunnel. In the middle of the snow-white room stood a substantial oval vessel from which wires stretched in all directions. Next to this cryo-chamber were several dashboards and screens. Taking a closer look at these screens, Fisk realized that some of them displayed vital signs. — You can take a closer look. Gonzalez said pleasedly as he watched the surprised and interested Richard. Fisk peered through the cryo-chamber’s single small window. It was difficult to see anything, but he caught a shock of dark hair falling over snow-white shoulders, a thin, pale face, and thick black eyelashes on tightly closed eyes. — Is it a woman? Said Fisk in surprise, turning to the doctor. But he just nodded. — Something wrong, Mr. Fisk?” — But I was told…… that your weapons are better than the Winter Soldier. — She is much better than him. — I don’t understand you, Dr. Gonzalez. Dr. Damian Gonzalez rubbed his hands contentedly, obviously delighted that he had the opportunity to present his creation to an uncomprehending Fisk. — The weapon still fast asleep inside this cryo-chamber is an accurate clone of the Winter Soldier that Alexander owned. When my late friend got Mr. Barnes into his tenacious hands, I knew that this was my chance to bring to life a project I had worked on for many years, almost all my life. I will not discuss it in detail; you still won’t understand anything. Just don’t be offended; you are not a scientist, and my abstruse terms will seem to you the ravings of a madman. — So, Pierce knew about your project? Fisk looked at the cryo-chamber incredulously. — Sí, but did not believe that I would succeed. However, he allowed me to take the most valuable possession of the Winter Soldier—his DNA. Richard coughed, staring in amazement at the doctor, who smiled broadly as he watched his guest’s reaction. And so, every time. This certainly flattered Damian. His idea seems wild and impossible to everyone, but here he is, the result of his labors, a meter away from him, calmly dozing and waiting for his next finest hour. — Have you heard about Santa Muerta, Mr. Fisk?” Richard glanced incredulously at the doctor, then looked at the capsule, then back at the doctor, and his face showed sincere and genuine astonishment. — No, it cannot be. These are all legends. Just don’t say that… that it’s her! He peered through the window of the cryo-chamber again. — Jesus Christ, this is true. — The Winter Soldier was also a legend. Ghost. Many still do not believe in his existence. But not all legends are false, señor. — Tell me more, I beg you,” Fisk whispered, lightly touching the chamber wall. — I’ve heard so much about her, but I’ve never… been able to believe the reality of those words. — HYDRA then asked me to make a clone of the Winter Soldier. And I complied with their request. It was damn tricky; in an instant, it began to seem to me that it was impossible. But, as you can see, everything worked out. — What about skills? Preparation? — As required by the Winter Soldier program. But do you know that Sergeant Barnes lost his arm in the forties, which was eventually replaced with a bionic one? Excellent and detailed work, I want to tell you. — But she doesn’t have such a hand, does she?” — Of course! The doctor blurted out too sharply, with obvious irritation in his voice. — That hand is so rough, so… manly.” The Doctor had been praising the Soldier’s bionic miracle a moment before, but now his face was grimacing with disgust. — My girl, although a copy of the Soldier, is also his complete opposite. You will understand everything when you see her at work: so much grace and ease. I assure you that her work can be safely equated with a work of art. — What about memory? You said that she had memories, but you erased them if she didn’t have them. Is she a machine? — No, she’s human. Flesh and blood — Gonzalez went to the main computer and quickly typed something while continuing to speak. “Mr. Barnes' problem is the demons of the past that drove him crazy when the Winter’s system malfunctioned. Alex can’t have that. She has no demons. She knows that completing the task is the only thing that should be important to her. — Alex? Fisk drawled in surprise, glancing at Gonzalez’s back. Everything that happened here and what this scientist spoke about frightened Richard extensively, but he tried not to betray his emotions, hiding them behind a mask of calmness and slight interest. Dr. Gonzalez whirled around and looked at the man with a slight reproach. — The project was initially called ‘Winter Soldier 2’. But I thought it was too dry and uninteresting. Having endowed the clone with personal qualities, giving her individuality, I named her Santa Muerte, which translates as Holy Death. Do you know what that means? Fisk shook his head, running his hand nervously over his chin. The doctor’s eyes now burned with an unhealthy gleam, and Gonzalez’s wide smile bordered on a mad grin. — This is a deity, the embodiment of death. People still worship her, present gifts, dedicate songs and books, and arrange holidays in her honor. Fans of Santa Muerte believe that she hears all the prayers addressed to her and that she can fulfill any desire. Santa Muerte does not divide people; everyone is equal before her. She is fair but cruel. Do you know how she is portrayed? Richard Fisk shook his head again, though he began to guess the answer. — Female skeleton. True, death is a woman, however ironic it may sound. If you have heard of my Holy Death, you know what the few lucky enough to see her and stay alive are talking about. — A skeleton… a woman whose face is like… a skull… like death.” Fisk said, staring at the chamber. — Exactly. Alex doesn’t always look like an average person. While working, she turns into Santa Muerte and punishes the recalcitrant. Well, defiant for HYDRA. Fisk winced when he noticed Dr. Gonzalez beside him, who approached him too quietly and placed his hand patronizingly on the thick steel wall of the cryo-chamber. — But why do you call her Alex?” — I should have given her a name while she was growing up; I should have addressed her somehow, right? And Alex… that was the name of my late madre. — Wait, growing up? Does that mean she…was a child? Flared Fisk, who thought the doctor was openly delirious. — Of course, she was,” Gonzalez looked at Richard with undisguised surprise as if he had said an absolute stupidity. — We found her at the age of 2. She grew up within these walls, taught and trained by the best people in HYDRA. Her brain stores all the knowledge and experience she gained during the tasks. But this is the only thing that remains in her memory. Everything else we safely reset to zero after completing missions. She remembers well only one person, her master, that is me. — I can’t tell if you’re a crazy man or a genius, Dr. Gonzalez,” Fisk drawled. The doctor smiled shyly and ran his finger over the window of the cryo-chamber. — Mr. Barnes was our Adam, from whose ribs we created Eve. The Winter Soldier is the past; his time is over. It echoes the past century; it is our present and future. For her, everyone is equal, poor and rich, sinners and saints; she will not spare anyone. Payback will come for Captain America, and its name is Santa Muerte. And now, Señor Fisk, you can rest while I wake up our Alex. My people will guide you to the right place: booze, the best cigars, drinks? Fisk grimaced, glancing at the smiling Gonzalez, whose eyes danced with devilish lights. — I wouldn’t mind having a drink. Richard Fisk swallowed the lump that came up to the mountain and abruptly moved towards the exit. He was shivering a little, but it was not the room’s temperature. *** Desert Nevada, USA. Three days later. — Fury, how much longer do we have to go to this base?” — What, Rogers is tired? Fury said through the earpiece. — No, it just feels like 50 degrees now. — To be exact, 51,” Tony replied. — Stark! — No, but what? — After 1 km, there will be a small building, so this is their base. — Do HYDRA have small bases? As far as I know, they always like to show off. — I agree with Tony. — I don’t recognize you today, Rogers, or have you finally stopped being a bore?” — Very funny, Stark. — Can you be normal for one minute? It’s just that this is the HYDRA base, and we have been looking for it for more than three months, and now, when we are already a kilometer from it, you behave like small children. Nat said. — Sure. *** —We’re leaving in three minutes! Hissed a voice over the comm. Captain Steven Rogers looked around at the small group of surviving agents of the once-existing SHIELD and met green, sly eyes. — The night promises to be hot — Romanoff approached him, crossed her arms over her chest, and carefully looked at Rogers. — What’s happened? Not enough sleep? — There are too few of us. — Stark and Clint are with us. And a dozen great guys. — Great guys who might not come home today. — Why the pessimism, Rogers? We are not going to take over the White House. — Have you noticed that the base is almost not guarded? Steve grimaced, pointing at the horizon. — This is HYDRA, and satellites show almost fewer people than we have. It is a trap. — So be it,” Natasha nodded, putting on a severe expression, — but we are not the first to fall into ambushes and get out of them. And this time, we will press Fisk. Steve sighed wearily, then put on his helmet and moved toward the cluster of agents. The moon rested like a pale yellow disc in the blue cloudless sky, illuminating the way for people stalking through the desert. — Stark, report back,” Steve said. — Six people near the hangar. They have Kalashnikovs, so that it can be noisy. There are also three snipers on the roof. — I’ll take them on myself,” said the cheerful voice of Sam Wilson in the Captain’s ear. — Thirty-two feet away. We’ll be in full view in ten feet,” Rogers replied. — In the hangar, there is a passage leading underground. Me, Agent Romanoff, and Stark will go down there; everyone else will stay on the surface in case of reinforcements from HYDRA. The agents, led by Rogers, continued to move forward silently. Sam Wilson, hovering in the night sky as a dark shadow, quietly descended to the roof and, approaching one of the snipers, quickly disabled him. With the other two, Clint Barton helped him, or rather, his arrows, which flew in from somewhere in the darkness of the desert and accurately hit the set targets. — The snipers have been eliminated,” Falcon reported the situation. Captain Rogers froze, raising his fist. The people following him stopped abruptly, continuing to keep their fingers on the trigger of their machine guns. Steve and Natasha moved forward quietly and cautiously, crouching on the dry ground with their hands almost touching it. — There are four with guns near the SUV,” Natasha whispered, putting her hand on Rogers' shoulder. — Sam? Clint? Steve said just as quietly, pressing his finger against the earpiece. — I’m ready,” Sam replied, making himself comfortable on the rooftop and aiming his rifle at the HYDRA agent strolling by the hangar entrance. — I’m waiting for orders,” Barton said, and only then Steve nodded to the spy, and the two turned left towards the parked cars. — Third, report the situation, reception,” a hissing voice came from the radio of one of the HYDRA agents. Steve and Natasha froze when they found themselves at one of the SUVs, on the roof of which rested a dusty machine gun. — Twentieth, I’m third, everything is clear, over,” one of the men raised a walkie-talkie to his lips, squinting towards the entrance to the hangar. — Accepted. Third, loading is almost over. Ready — fifteen minutes, the end of the connection. Rogers glanced at Natasha, but her face was hidden in shadow, so he could not tell if she was thinking the same thing. But one thing was clear: time was running out. — Ready? Let’s start, Steve whispered and immediately rushed forward at the nearest guard. Romanoff followed suit. There was a series of short shots accompanied by quiet cries. A minute later, all the guards were eliminated. The Falcon deftly descended from the roof on his iron wings. Steve and Natasha ran to the entrance to the hangar, and the rest of the SHIELD people quickly pulled themselves up to the rally point, emerging from the darkness like silent shadows, spinning to the sides and pressing machine guns to their faces. — Tony, where are you?” Are there more HYDRA people on the surface? Steve put his finger on the earpiece again, peering up at the Nevada starry sky. — Nobody on the surface. Legolas and Chocolate eliminated everyone.” A red and gold Iron Man landed next to the Captain. “There’s another hangar about forty feet west, no lights, no guards. It may be empty, but it’s worth checking. — Hey, take it easy on the nicknames, scrap metal,” Wilson pointed at Stark. — Leave it aside,” Steve knew that another joint skirmish could begin now, so he immediately stopped any attempt by Tony to respond with a barb for a barb. — We have less than twenty minutes. Fisk was preparing for our arrival. Tony, what’s in the hangar itself? How many people are there? — There’s no one in the hangar itself, but Jarvis can’t get the satellites to break through underground; there must be jammers in there. We’ll have to go blind,” Stark spread his hands. — OK. We listen to the command — Rogers stood before the SHIELD agents. — Forty feet west, dark hangar. It may not be guarded, but be on the alert. Check it out. Wilson will provide air cover for you. The three of us go inside. Barton, you’re on guard. — Got it, Steve. — Understood. — Okay, Captain. Stark knocked the lockout with a fiery volley from his palm; Steve pushed the door with his foot, hiding behind his shield, and together with Romanoff, they quickly ran into the dimly empty hangar room, which had a tart smell of machine oil and a metallic taste of weapons. A closed hatch was on the floor in the middle of the hangar. Stark went up to him, looked at him for a minute, pulled the bolt, pounded on the lead hatch cover, and listened to his echoes. — Jarvis, what is the probability that our friends from HYDRA have prepared explosives under the hatch?” Stark turned to artificial intelligence. — Eighty-four percent, sir. ‘an electronic voice replied.’ — Eighty-four, not ninety-two,” Tony grunted, grabbing the edge of the hatch. — Captain, let’s check how original these guys are? Together, they pushed the hatch aside. In front of them was an iron staircase into the impenetrable damp darkness. — I don’t like this,” Rogers grumbled, peering into the oppressive darkness. — Too easy. — Do you think we’re still in for a surprise downstairs from Fisk and company?” Stark arched an eyebrow. — I do not doubt it,” the Captain replied, turning to the SHIELD group on the general comm. Sam, report back. — Almost there, as long as everything is clean. Didn’t notice anyone near the hangar. — Okay, we found a wormhole; if we go down, the connection may be cut off, so be careful. Barton, do you hear? — Captain, all is calm on the horizon. No movement. Be careful underground; I can’t help you there. — Let’s do it—end of connection. The endless, semi-dark, damp tunnel met unexpected guests with a deafeningly unnatural silence. Steve walked ahead, putting up a shield before him; Natasha moved behind him, cocking her pistol, listening carefully, and peering into everything possible. Stark brought up the rear, covering everyone from behind. The bare concrete walls echoed forward with their cautious footsteps. Everyone’s nerves were on edge. If they were lured here, it would be almost impossible to escape the carnage that could overtake them around any next turn. Finally, a dead end appeared, marked by a massive iron door. — Tony, can you open it? — No problem,” Stark ducked forward and walked over to the dashboard. — Jarvis, what’s with the security system here?” Although, it’ll take too long. Stark put his hand on the dashboard, and in the next moment, only a scorched and melted hole remained. Rogers looked at him reproachfully, but he just shrugged. — It’s faster and easier that way,” Stark grimaced, grabbing the handle. HYDRA’s entire secret base was underground, protected by thick sand and dry earth layer. Hangars are just a transit point, a hallway. The real heart of the Nevada HYDRA appeared before Rogers in all its glory. A long corridor, glass walls and doors through which one could easily see vast and powerful panels and computers, to which Stark immediately rushed. The office desks, on which papers were scattered, as well as all over the stone floor of the underground base, were empty. But someone was obviously in a hurry to leave this place. Steve saw an oak door to the left, but Natasha beat him to it, deftly running up and pushing it away from her with ease. The door gave way with a creak, and the spy dived into the darkness of the unknown room for a few seconds. — Archive,” the redhead peeked out of the doorway. -— It’s a complete mess, but most papers and files are not there. — They knew we were coming,” Steve said in a funeral tone. — Fisk took everything with him. — You gave up too soon, old man,” Stark shouted, typing something quickly on one of the keyboards and peering at the scrolling lines on the dark screen in front of him. “— Jarvis, I’ve inserted the flash drive, so let’s copy everything that can be found here. — Of course, sir. — Is there something there? Hope filled the Captain’s voice. — No promises, they tried to clean up after themselves, but I’ll try to find at least some rubbish. Hope dies last. — It will be necessary to collect all these papers; you never know what,” Natasha said, leafing through the files of one of the folders she found on the floor of the archive room. Steve nodded and was about to move towards Stark when something at the far end of the corridor caught his attention. He could only imagine, due to poor lighting, an extended stay underground or elementary nerves, but it seemed to him that he saw some movement behind one of the doors. The Captain moved forward without thinking twice, feeling his heart beating frantically. The door gave way quickly, creaking quietly and mournfully, letting Rogers into a dark room lit only by ten small screens on the opposite wall. — Natasha? Steve called softly as he moved closer to the panels. But there was no answer. Romanoff and Stark are too immersed in studying the remaining material and searching for at least something important and valuable. Rogers was so interested and immersed in what was happening on the screens that he did not notice how the black shadow quickly but silently moved along the wall behind the Captain and quietly emerged out the door. The screens showed flickering black-and-white images from cameras located throughout the bunker. Here are the stairs leading up to the hangar; here are some plans of the empty tunnel they were moving through. Some screens were black, but only one in the right corner caught Captain Rogers' attention. The place looked like a massive garage with about six trucks in it. People in the form of HYDRA hurried past them, dragging boxes and boxes into the back, shouting to each other, and looking at a tall man in a light-colored suit who just shouted something and waved his hand. All the people hurried to the cars, and the man in the suit, looking straight at the camera’s lens and filming him for a second, quickly walked towards one of the cars. Steve Rogers immediately recognized the man as Richard Fisk. — Holy shit! The Captain cursed, which was entirely unusual for him. — Natasha! Fisk is leaving! Steve ran back into the hallway and rushed in the opposite direction from the entrance. The captain already realized that the corridor must lead him to that garage. — Natasha! — he pressed his finger to the earpiece, not understanding why the spy did not get in touch. — Stark? Answer! Come on! Their silence might have alerted him if the desire to catch up, to grab Fisk, pouring through the Captain’s veins like a dose of adrenaline, had not overshadowed his consciousness. Richard Fisk was so close that Rogers couldn’t let him slip away. He turned for the sixth time, and the corridor did not end; now, there were no doors, just bare gray walls and fluorescent lamps under the ceiling. Steve froze in place, calling Romanoff again. — Natasha, what’s going on?” Where are you? Why not… Steve Rogers did not have time to finish, as he felt a solid blow to the back, after which he flew head over heels forward, hitting his forehead on the floor upon landing. The man thought he couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, but he quickly came to his senses and jerked to his feet, turning back. He froze, looking at the person who attacked him with incomprehension. If it could be called human. Steve thought he was standing before a skeleton for a few seconds. White face, black eye sockets. It did not immediately dawn on the man that this was a living person, or rather a woman, whose dark hair fell to her shoulders; on her face, which he at first took for a bare skull, there was something like makeup and two gray eyes looked at the man from dark eye sockets. Steve just had time to jerk his hand as a woman in dark clothes abruptly jumped up and rushed in his direction. She moved too quickly, too quietly, and dexterously. Rogers felt another hard blow to his ribs, too hard for a woman. He managed to repel the second blow, placing a block with his hands. A series of blows followed him, but the roundhouse attacker kicked the Captain, hitting him precisely in his left ear. Rogers screamed, unable to hear his voice because of the unbearable hum and pain in his ear and head. The woman would not even give him a break, striking him with blow after blow, forcing him to back away against the wall. When Steve could think and control his body again, he intercepted the woman’s hand and pulled it to the side, trying to hit the wall. If she attacks, then she is from HYDRA. Do these bastards have another hitman in store? Steve punched her in the jaw, and there was a muffled crack. The woman took a couple of unsteady steps back. But then she shook her head and threw her hair back, preparing to continue the fight. Rogers took advantage of the momentary delay by rushing towards her and wringing her arms, thus placing himself behind her, holding her tightly in his grip. And then there was a very muffled roar, like an explosion. The floor shuddered under the Captain’s feet, and cladding and sand fell in places from the ceiling. The light in the hallway flickered nervously a couple of times. Steve froze, frantically trying to figure out what it was. The woman in his grip the whole time growled, then jumped up and kicked off the wall with her feet, forcing Steve back to the opposite wall. Rogers pressed his back against the cold concrete, still holding her hands, but it didn’t last long. The stranger hit the man in the teeth several times with his head. Feeling an unbearable metallic taste of blood in his mouth, Steve loosened his grip against his will, which his opponent immediately took advantage of. A solid blow to the solar plexus made Rogers double over, followed by another blow to the back of his head, pinning the man to the floor. Falling, the Captain managed to grab the opponent by the leg and pull it with all his might, forcing the woman to fall with him. The fight continued on the floor. Steve didn’t want to kill her; he wouldn’t have been able to. The woman quickly pulled herself out of his arms as if oblivious to his body weight when he was on top. At the last moment, Rogers saw something flash in her hand. The attacker loomed over Steve, throwing her hand with some magic ball that turned into a blade, and only at that moment did their eyes meet. Sky-blue eyes looked with surprise and slight incomprehension into gray, cold, and soulless. Thoughts rushed through Captain Rogers' head so fast that it seemed impossible to grasp them. He’s seen that look before. Those eyes are like a cry from the past, too far past. But this is impossible. These gray eyes belonged to another person who disappeared decades ago but was recently found, but, again, lost, ran away, once again leaving his friend. — Who are you? Steve whispered, gazing in horror at the face of the woman, who, literally for a moment, froze, peering at her opponent. She seemed to hesitate, but simultaneously, a sharp pain pierced Rogers' shoulder. After making one precise blow with magic, the woman immediately drew a bloody blade to swing and make another, and it seemed a fatal crash. Steve couldn’t do anything. The unbearable pain in the bleeding shoulder was not so shocking and stupor-inducing as the realization that this woman, whom he had never seen in his life, who, for some reason, staged this masquerade, seemed familiar to him. She had already begun to lower the knife when a whirlwind blew her off Rogers. This whirlwind was Romanoff. Women rolled on the floor for several meters, grunting and trying to hook each other. The bloodied knife flew off somewhere to the side. Steve could hardly roll over and saw a desperate and brutal fight between a stranger and a spy. Women furiously hit each other in the face and body as if each was trying to hurt her rival as much as possible. Natasha’s face was covered in blood, and to Steve’s fear, it was her blood. He also noticed that the spy raised her left hand with great difficulty, and each movement was given on the face of Romanoff with a grimace of pain. The stranger’s eyebrow was bleeding, and the white paint was smeared in places, showing that this woman was just a person and not a terrible skeleton, as it seemed to Steve all this time. Natasha was losing, but the spy had one trump card on her sleeve, which seemed unknown to the skeleton woman. The Widow’s Bite took the woman by surprise. Romanoff wrapped her arms around her head and released an electric charge. Surprisingly, the stranger did not react to the massive discharge of current. The HYDRA attacker twitched slightly, trying to throw off Natasha, who wrapped her legs around her waist in a death grip, continuing to keep her hands on her opponent’s head. Steve watched with undisguised fear as the woman began to cramp, as her eyes rolled back, and there was still no cry of pain, and there was not. She looks so much like… But it just couldn’t be… It’s impossible, unreal. However, Steven could not be mistaken. — Natasha, stop! Steve yelled as he got to his feet. But Romanoff didn’t hear him as she continued to kill the woman slowly. — Natasha! Stop it! The spy looked in surprise at the Captain, who, holding his bleeding shoulder with his hand, moved towards them. There was apparent distrust and misunderstanding in her eyes. However, she removed her hands, and the opponent went limp, sprawled on the floor; only her hands trembled sharply occasionally. But she wasn’t dangerous. She is no longer dangerous. For now. — Rogers, what are you doing? Sighed the spy, crawling aside and pressing her hand, throbbing with furious pain, to her chest. The man did not answer, kneeling with a groan in front of the stranger, who, although unconscious, still inspired some awe and slight fear with her appearance. Steve pressed his fingers to her neck, trying to find a pulse. — Steve, she attacked from behind… I didn’t even have time to figure it out. It looks like she dislocated my arm. And Stark… He’s unconscious… he needs help,” Romanoff muttered with a frown on her face as she watched the Captain. — Alive,” Rogers breathed with relief, finally feeling for a barely pulsating vein under thin, delicate skin. — Steve, what the hell is going on?” hissed the spy. — Who is this? Do you know this… crazy? — I’m not sure… But if I tell you, you won’t believe me.