Chapter 83: A Path to Freedom (Last)

Chapter 83: A Path to Freedom (Last)

2014

Washington D.C

The Triskelion (S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters)

(Omniscient POV)

The sprawling grounds of the Triskelion extended far beyond the towering skyscraper itself, forming a fortified islanded compound that exuded an aura of authority and security. As one approached the facility, a sense of formidable authority permeated the air, leaving no doubt that this was a place of immense importance.

Lush greenery adorned the meticulously maintained landscape, offering a stark contrast to the imposing structure that stood at its center. Pristine lawns stretched out in manicured perfection, interrupted only by strategic walkways and patrolling agents.

Within, the compound buzzed with activity as S.H.I.E.L.D agents and S.T.R.I.K.E team operatives scrambled to counter the aftermath of a devastating wide-range EMP assault that had left their systems paralyzed.

Uniformed officers and armed troopers swiftly hustle across the vast grounds, securing the area and fortifying the facility against further threats.

As the various security measures were being initiated, a resounding crash of shattered glass reverberated throughout the entire compound.

Bewildered agents turned to one another, exchanging perplexed glances at the peculiar sound before fixing their gaze upon one of the elevators directly overhead.

Their expressions shifted from confusion to surprise and alarm as a humanoid figure explosively burst through the glass, hurtling down from a dizzying height of over 100 feet toward the courtyard below.

As the fractured glass disintegrated beneath the plummeting figure, the onlookers gasped in shock as a small explosion erupted from where the figure had jumped.

"What is that!"

"An intruder!?"

"Sound the alarm!"

The crowd of spectators spoke in disbelief, hastily assuming their assigned positions as they witnessed the dramatic entrance of the human-shaped silhouette. The air crackled with anticipation as the figure hurtled through the shattered glass, descending from the sky with an awe-inspiring force.

Time seemed to slow as the figure collided with the ground, unleashing a cataclysmic impact that shook the very foundation of the compound.

Debris erupted into the air, dancing in a chaotic ballet of destruction. Shards of glass and rubble rained down upon the startled onlookers, adding an element of danger to the already tense atmosphere.

A modest-sized crater emerged before the imposing structure, a testament to the sheer power contained within the figure's arrival.

Dust and smoke billowed, cloaking the scene in an ethereal haze as if concealing the frightening being that had just made its presence known.

S.H.I.E.L.D and S.T.R.I.K.E agents flocked around the newly formed crater, their perplexed faces unable to piece together what had just unfolded. Nonetheless, each individual trained their weapons down on the swirling cloud of dust concealing the fallen intruder and swiftly took up defensive positions around the crater.

The silence that followed was pregnant with anticipation and apprehension. Each spectator, frozen in awe and trepidation, stared intently at the swirling cloud of dust, eagerly awaiting the reveal of the enigmatic figure's identity. Hearts pounded in chests, adrenaline surged through veins, and the air was thick with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

As the dust began to settle, several of the officers stirred with a mounting sense of nervousness and suspicion as they spotted the form of the intruder.

Amidst the wreckage stood an imposing figure, adorned in a suit of heavy black armor that gleamed in the dim light. The metallic plating pulses with mysterious crimson energy, evoking an air of ominous power and unknown intent.

The crowd fixated their gaze on the armored figure, their expressions shifting from curiosity to escalating dread. Among those who had survived the Battle of New York a few years ago, the silhouette was instantly recognizable as the individual who had fearlessly invaded the battlefield and wreaked havoc upon the Chitauri army.

His presence radiated an unmistakable aura of danger and uncertainty. Whispers of speculation and unease swiftly circulated among the perplexed officers.

But it was the burden the armored figure carried that truly intensified the atmosphere. Over their shoulder, like a limp ragdoll, rested the familiar form of Captain America, his iconic uniform making him easily recognizable to those present.

"Isn't that Captain Rogers?!"

"He's supposed to be under lockdown!"

"Who is that carrying him?"

"Put your hands in the air!"

Voices rose in unison, demanding answers from the armored figure standing amidst the ruins. A senior officer stepped forward, his face contorted with anger and disbelief as he addressed the imposing figure.

"Identify yourself, Now!" He demanded as he aimed his weapon at the skeletal helmet of the armored figure. "Or you will be fired upon!!"

The answer, however, didn't come from the imposing figure, who just ignored him as he slung Captain America off of his shoulder and onto the ground.

Cap's head lolled to the side as he groggily regained his bearings, finding himself staring up at the skeletal visage of the armored man.

"What the hell?" Cap asked, his voice filled with confusion.

"Can you keep up?" Crossbones asked Cap in a low, rumbling tone, gesturing towards the closed gates of the bridge that led outside the facility, beyond the encircling crowd of agents.

Cap's eyes darted between Crossbones and the gate, contemplating his options, as he realized that the armored stranger intended to aid his escape.

As the two spoke, eyes darted between the armored figure and the hero, searching for answers within the depths of their own fears.

"You're helping me escape?" Cap's voice carried a tinge of disbelief.

"I'm saving your life," Crossbones replied bluntly, confidence evident in his voice.

Cap hesitated, memories of the brutal elevator massacre flooding his thoughts.

"Can I even trust you?" He questioned, his gaze piercing through the eerie skeletal faceplate of the armored man, searching for any signs of the person hidden beneath the metal.

"It's either me or them," Crossbones replied, casting a steely gaze at the agents surrounding them.

Cap surveyed the agents, their weapons not only trained on Crossbones but also on him. Uncertain, he pondered his choices when a voice boomed across the courtyard via the intercom.

"All hands!" Sitwell's voice echoed throughout the compound. "Seal the perimeter, lock all access points, and apprehend the traitor and the intruder!"This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com

Sitwell's declaration triggered restlessness among the crowd, their attention shifting from the duo in front of them to the gate leading outside the facility. Thoughts raced through their minds as they deliberated their next course of action.

The air crackled with tension, each officer poised on the precipice of action, their fingers twitching near their triggers.

"Well?" Crossbones casually queried Cap, seemingly oblivious to the escalating danger.

"Fine!" Cap called out, his trust in Crossbones still tentative. "I'll follow you. But we're having a serious conversation afterward."

Crossbones paused briefly, nodding in agreement.

"Fair enough," Crossbones concurred, gesturing for Cap to join him as he moved forward, charging up the slope of the crater toward the encircled mass of agents.

"Wait!" Cap shouted, but his words fell on deaf ears as Crossbones pressed on, undeterred.

With a surge of formidable power, Crossbones momentum slowly started to build, a faint dark crimson force field beginning to emit from the armor, unleashing an unstoppable force that propelled him forward like a battering ram.

The crowd of agents found themselves hopelessly outmatched as he barreled through their ranks, leaving destruction and chaos in his wake.

"Fire!!" One agent called out as a hailstorm of bullets descended upon Crossbones, but they were as insignificant as raindrops against an unyielding storm.

His crimson force field deflected the onslaught, leaving the attackers dumbfounded and helpless.

The ground quaked beneath the thunderous impact of Crossbones' every step, and his armored frame became an unstoppable juggernaut of destruction, the sheer force of his charge reducing those to the front of the crowd to mere collateral, their bodies being flung apart like fleshy puppets.

The crowd of agents desperately tried to halt his advance, firing mag after mag, but their efforts proved futile against the impenetrable force field surrounding Crossbones.

With each stride, Crossbones left a trail of chaos and devastation. Bodies crumpled under his unstoppable might, bones shattered, and screams echoed through the air.

The once-ordered and fortified compound now descended into a battlefield of panic and carnage.

Captain America followed in Crossbones' wake, utilizing his own formidable skills to protect their flank. His shield deflected bullets and incapacitated anyone who dared to challenge their escape.

The duo moved with precision and purpose, a seamless collaboration of power and strategy.

As the pair neared the gate, Captain America couldn't help but be captivated by the overwhelming power exhibited by Crossbones. following close behind, he observed in awe as Crossbones plowed through the vast S.H.I.E.L.D. army with unstoppable force, reminiscent of a speeding freight train. The sheer might and determination displayed by Crossbones left an indelible impression on Cap's mind.

Despite feeling conflicted about the violence and the lives lost, Cap recognized the gravity of the situation that had led them to this moment. With unwavering determination, he made a solemn promise to pursue justice on behalf of those affected once they successfully escaped this place.

Just a few feet away from their destination, they were confronted by a formidable obstacle as multiple turrets were positioned atop the closed gates, ready to unleash a barrage of deadly fire.

Accompanying the turrets, a squad of heavily armed agents stood guard, their weapons at the ready. The path to the bridge, which would lead them out of the facility and into the city beyond, seemed impassable, blocked by this formidable defense.

Undeterred by the looming threat ahead, Crossbones remained unfazed and disregarded the imminent danger. With a single-minded focus, he ignored the spinning turrets and armed agents, accelerating forward like a meteor hurtling through space.

The crimson force field surrounding him intensified, growing denser and enveloping him in its protective embrace.

"Stay behind me," Crossbones called out to Cap as he continued his inexorable charge.

"Yeah, good idea," Cap agreed, his voice betraying a hint of sarcasm and astonishment at the display.

As the two charged ahead, numerous streams of bullets rained down upon them like hail, yet the bombardment of projectiles was powerless to stop Crossbones' relentless charge, the shells ricocheting harmlessly off his vibrant scarlet force field.

He charged forward, colliding with the formidable gate with such force that the metal crumpled and ruptured beneath his assault.

Without losing any momentum, Crossbones barreled through the opening and out of the compound, leaving a swath of destruction in his path.

The agents, their resolve battered and broken, stood rooted in place, watching the pair depart. Confusion reigned supreme, as many struggled to process the events that had transpired so suddenly.

"Raise the bridge! We can't let them get away!" A frantic agent bellowed, his voice saturated with alarm as he pointed toward the immense fissure in the fortified gate.

Several agents ran to raise the bridge to block the path to the city, while others pivoted their weapons, targeting the duo's vulnerable backs.

Crossbones and Captain America continued to move with ease as they sprinted across the initial stretch of the bridge that led away from the compound. Bullets continued to fly, striking mostly empty air and the water that surrounded them.

As they ran, Crossbones glanced over his shoulder and saw the group of agents regrouping, readying their guns for another volley as the menacing quinjets trailed closely behind, their lethal turrets spinning in readiness for a fresh onslaught of bullets.

Turning his head back to the road ahead, he noticed that the middle of the bridge began to rise, a desperate attempt to impede their path to the city.

"Do you have a plan?" Cap inquired, stealing a quick glance at the ascending bridge and the approaching aircraft closing in on their position.

Crossbones remained silent, his focus fixed ahead of him as he continued his stride.

"From a young age, I was taught to deceive, to blend in and gain the trust of those I worked with," Brock continued, his voice tinged with bitterness. "But as the years went by, I saw the true face of Hydratheir cruelty, their thirst for power....and I couldn't bear to be a pawn in their game any longer."

Listening intently, I found myself drawn into Brock's narrative, feeling a growing sense of empathy for the young man sitting before me. The weight of his past and the complexities of his present circumstances painted a poignant picture of a life teetering on the edge, never truly knowing who he could trust.

"So, that's why I saved you," Brock concluded, his voice laced with a mix of weariness and determination. "I knew that if anyone could expose the corruption within S.H.I.E.L.D and ensure that no one else has to endure what I did...it would be you."

The room fell silent, the gravity of Brock's revelations lingering in the air. I could sense the honesty in his words, the genuine desire to make amends for the sins of his past.

In that moment, my skepticism wavered, replaced by a burgeoning sense of compassion for the tormented soul sitting across from me.

"I...I can't begin to imagine the hardships you've faced, Brock," I said, my voice carrying a note of solemnity. "But I believe in second chances, in the power of redemption. We all have our pasts...our own demons to confront. What matters is the choices we make now and the actions we take to set things right."

Brock's gaze met mine, a flicker of gratitude and relief dancing in his eyes.

"Thank you, Steve," he replied, gratitude lacing his words. "Your trust means more to me than you can imagine."

I nodded at the young man, reaching across the small table to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"No thanks necessary, part of the job description," I said, my voice filled with sincerity, as a warm smile comes to my lips.

An appreciative smile graced Brock's lips, a flicker of relief crossing his features. The weight of the stressful situation seemed to lift, if only for a moment.

But as the calm settled upon us, a question resurfaced in my mind, one that I couldn't ignore.

"Brock, there's still one thing I need to know," I said, my voice firm yet compassionate. "How did you acquire your powers?"

Brock's expression turned contemplative, his gaze fixed on some distant point in the room. I could sense the weight of his past bearing down on him, causing a momentary pause in his response.

"With your power set... there's no way you're a super soldier," I remarked, recalling the young man's extraordinary display of strength that far surpassed my own. "And that armor... It emanates an... unnatural energy, nothing that can be explained by conventional science."

"It's... complicated," he finally replied, his voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and determination.

Suddenly, a flicker of recognition crossed my face as a particular memory resurfaced.

"Wait a minute," I interjected, my thoughts momentarily clouded by the recollection.

"You're not a Mutant, are you?" I asked, the image of a short, hairy immortal man I had encountered during World War II flashed vividly in my mind, causing me to wonder if there might be a familiar connection at play.

Brock's eyes widened slightly at my question, his brows furrowing as if processing the implication. He shook his head, dispelling any notions of a mutant heritage.

"No, Cap," he responded, his voice carrying a touch of reassurance. "I wish I had obtained my powers that easily... The truth is, during my time with Hydra, I was subjected to a series of brutal experimental procedures, tortures, and strange enhancements. They sought to create the perfect weapon, someone with abilities far beyond the ordinary."

A surge of anger and sorrow welled up within me, as memories of all the Red Skull's secret labs we found in World War II came to mind. Invoking a deep-seated hatred within, that I thought I had buried.

A somber expression settled on Brock's face as he revealed the dark origins of his powers. The weight of his past experiences was palpable, and I couldn't help but feel a swell of empathy for the struggles he must have endured.

"The process was... painful, both physically and mentally," he continued, his voice now carrying a hint of bitterness. "After enduring everything they subjected me to, and showing no immediate changes, they believed their experiments had failed... But somehow, against all odds, it worked. I gained powers beyond their wildest expectations."

Brock's words carried a mix of resentment and astonishment.

The immense suffering he had to have endured during the experimentation and the unexpected outcome of gaining extraordinary abilities seemed like a cruel twist of fate.

It was a testament to his resilience and the unforeseen consequences of Hydra's reckless pursuit of power.

I took a moment to absorb the weight of Brock's revelation, the weight of the sacrifices he had made, and the pain he had overcome. Clearly, his powers were a double-edged sword, a constant reminder of the dark path he had been forced down.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Brock," I said, my voice filled with genuine sympathy. "No one should have their life and body manipulated in such a way. But I want you to know that you're not defined by what they did to you. You have the power to choose how you use your abilities, and I believe in your capacity for good."

Brock looked up at me with an unreadable look in his eyes, before giving me a grateful smile.

*********

Outskirts of Virginia

Cabin in the Forrest

(Brock POV)

God, he's so fucking gullible.

I thought inwardly, a flicker of amusement dancing in my eyes as a grateful smile crossed my lips. Steve's unwavering trust and genuine belief in my capacity for good were almost too easy to exploit.

It was a skill I had honed over the years, weaving half-truths and carefully constructed narratives to manipulate those around me. And Steve Rogers, the epitome of a hero, proved to be no exception.

It was almost too easy.

"So...back to Hydra," Steve said, after a moment. "What are they planning to do?"

I shook my head, amused by the level of trust in his voice.

"I wasn't involved in the inner circle, so I don't have the full details," I began, maintaining my calm faade and allowing a hint of concern to flicker in my eyes before I continued.

"But from what I overheard during my time with Hydra, they have a project called 'Insight,'" I said, feigning uncertainty. "It involves advanced helicarriers armed with long-range precision weapons. The goal is to eliminate threats before they even emerge, based on data and surveillance systems."

Steve's brows furrowed as he nodded his head, a mix of determination and concern etching his features.

"Fury told me about that before he...you know. Anyway, it sounds like a dangerous plan," he said, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency. "We need to stop them."

A surge of triumph washed over me, knowing that my plan was working flawlessly. I had gained Steve's trust, which will be useful in the future, but as I heard him use the word, 'We', I knew I had to put a stop to it before he got the wrong idea.

My role had been played, and I had gained the trust I needed. Now it was time to part ways.

I raised my hand, interrupting Steve's train of thought.

"Steve, I appreciate your trust and the opportunity to help," I said, my voice tinged with a hint of regret. "But I think it's best if we go our separate ways from here."

Confusion flickered across Steve's face, his brows furrowing in concern.

"But...I can't do this alone," he protested. "We need to work together to stop Hydra and their plan."

I shook my head, masking my true intentions behind a mask of regret.

"Steve... for the first time in the 19 years I've been alive, I feel like I finally have a chance at freedom," I said, my voice brimming with sincerity as I met Steve's astonished gaze upon learning my real age. "Right now, as far as Hydra is concerned, Brock Rumlow is dead... he died in that elevator with his men."

There was a mixture of relief and determination in my words as I revealed the truth.

The weight of my past identity as Major Brock Rumlow had been shed, replaced by a newfound opportunity to forge my own path and leave Hydra's shadow behind.

Steve's expression shifted, a mix of disappointment and understanding crossing his features. It was clear that he respected my decision, even if it meant losing an ally in the fight against Hydra.

"But...I...I understand, Brock," he said, his voice tinged with a touch of sadness. "Everyone deserves a chance at freedom and a fresh start. Just remember that if you ever need help or find yourself in a difficult situation, I'll be there for you."

I nodded, gratitude mingling with a slight feeling of regret inside me.

"Thank you, Steve," I replied, my voice filled with genuine appreciation. "I'll remember that."

With a final nod, I stood up from the table, feeling a sense of liberation wash over me.

"Don't worry, though. I'm not leaving you empty-handed," I assured Steve, a hint of satisfaction in my voice as I reached my hand back, and Zeru handed me a small device. "Take this. Place it in any one of the new Helicarrier's terminals, and it should help you shut down their systems."

Steve's eyes widened slightly as he took the device from me, turning it over in his hand. Gratitude was evident on his face as he responded, "Thanks... This should come in handy."

My plan completed, I move and make my way towards the cabin door, Zeru and Ava following behind me as I turned to look at Steve one last time, seeing the unwavering spirit burning bright in his eyes.

"Take care, Captain Rogers," I said, my voice holding a note of genuine warmth. "The world's a better place with heroes like you in it."

Steve nodded, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

"And the world needs people like you too, Brock," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "Don't let your past define you. Find your own path, and make it right."

With a final nod, I stepped out into the shining light of the early morning sun, my mind already focused on the next phase of my goals.

As the door closed behind us, I allowed a sly grin to cross my lips. The pieces were indeed falling into place just as I had planned, but now a new layer of complexity had been added.

Captain America's trust had been secured, and he would unwittingly play a role in the downfall of Hydra. But my true intentions remained veiled, hidden beneath the facade of a changed man seeking redemption.

I knew the risks of my actions, the lives that would be affected.

Yet, the allure of power and revenge against those who had manipulated and tormented me proved too strong to resist.

We walked away from the cabin, my steps purposeful and determined. The path I had chosen was a treacherous one, filled with uncertainty and danger, but the endgame was within reach.

Hydra would fall, and I would rise from the ashes. A living testament to their own hubris and misguided sense of power.

"Where to now, Boss?" Zeru asked from within his mech, his voice carrying a mix of anticipation and resolve. "We headed back to New York?"

I paused for a moment, scanning the horizon where the remnants of Hydra's influence still lingered. It was time to confront the ghosts of my past and bring closure to the unfinished business that haunted me.

"No... now, we go to settle a few old scores," I declared, my voice dripping with chilling resolve.

My companions stood beside me, their eyes gleaming with a ruthless determination. We moved towards the waiting hovercar, each step resonating with a palpable sense of purpose.

"Where you lead, we follow," Ava's voice rang out, her words laced with an unsettling loyalty.

A wicked smile curled on my lips, relishing in the darkness that bound us together.

The stage was set and all the actors were in their places... now it was time for the final act of this grand tragedy was poised to unfold, leaving destruction and despair in its wake.

The die had been cast, and we would descend into the depths of darkness, where old scores would be settled and the boundaries between hero and villain blurred into obscurity. The time for redemption had long passed, replaced by a cold, calculating resolve, and the world would bear witness to the consequences of our bloody dance of retribution.

*************

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