Bucky followed Pete's directions, running through the halls with him at a quick pace, passing offices and meeting rooms. He kept his eyes moving, ready for any threat.
"It just doesn't make sense," Pete mumbled. "All of our tech is in the lower levels. Why did they go for the filing room? That info is outdated, and it's all on our computers. Hell, Hydra already has most of it, the fucking mogs."
"The reason doesn't matter. It's a target, we defend it," Bucky snapped.
Pete sighed in a condescending way that made Bucky want to hit him. "You assassin and soldier types. All about 'who do I kill?' When it's more useful to ask 'why am I killing?' More fun too."
A gun shot rang out. Bucky snapped his hand up to block another shot, then the hail of bullets that followed, his robotic arm deflecting a few as he shoved Pete into a room next to them. "Save the philosophy for when we aren't getting shot at!"
Bucky followed Pete into the room and shot at the walls, aiming through what he thought was drywall to where the shots had come from.
"It's concrete!" Pete shouted over the sound of bullets firing at them. "With a solid inch of steel in the middle! You can't shoot throu-"
Bucky fired anyway.
The bullets smashed into the wall for a second before they smashed through the stone and metal, piercing through and hitting someone on the other side. As they screamed, Bucky gave Pete a look.
"Don't underestimate my gun."
Pete rolled his eyes, though he still smirked. "Fine then mate, then have at the tossers," he went over to a random wall and pressed a hand to it. The wall slid upwards, surprising Bucky. There was a window right next to the secret door, yet a tunnel twisting in the same direction?
"I'm gonna cut them off at the pass."
"By yourself?" Bucky asked, worried.
Pete chuckled. "Well yeah. Don't want to be holding you back after all!"
He entered the door, the wall sliding shut behind him. "Just head in the direction of the lights! I'll shine a path for ya mate!"
Bucky watched the door slide shut. Then he sighed in relief behind a helmet of catoms.
No more defending. Just a target and a gun. It was strange, thinking that he was relieved to be doing some of the same sort of work he'd done under Hydra. The thought might have depressed and horrified him if it wasn't for one thing.
He was about to kill some Hydra agents. No one was around. No Steve. No Sam. Just him. The Nomad. And the willing soldiers of men who had controlled his mind.
Nomad poked his head out for a brief second, then back into the room. 4 men were approaching, one bleeding soldier was lying back as someone else tried to wrap bandages around wounds on his arm.
Bucky popped back out of cover and fired. A quick hail of bullets hit the guy wrapping bandages in the helmet, the hard carapace surviving the first two before the next three broke the helmet and skull apart, the temporary medic falling like a puppet with its strings cut off. Before he'd dropped, Bucky moved in. One of the soldiers shot at him as Bucky approached. Then Nomad grabbed the soldier's assault rifle and pushed it up, the shots hitting the wall and ceiling. Bucky let go of his own rifle, the weapon attached to him by a strap, and punched the enemy soldier in the stomach with his robotic arm.
The soldier vomited in his own mask, the acid smell of it filling the air. Nomad punched him again, shattering his sternum, then moved around the vomiting and choking soldier to confront his allies, pulling out a handle. Catoms flowed from the handle to form a kukri knife. Bucky raised his robot arm to block two handgun shots on his palm, grabbed the gun by the barrel in his metal fist, squeezing hard enough to bend the metal. He pulled the gun forward, sending the soldier off balance, and brought his kukri blade upward, stabbing the man in the armpit as he fell, then pulling the knife out to slice him across the throat.
The last soldier shot Nomad twice in the chest and once in the stomach, sending him back a step. Bucky grabbed his gun and fired it at the soldier, who ducked under the hail of bullets and rolled, crouching up to toss a knife. Bucky caught the knife out of the air and tossed it back, getting the soldier in the wrist.
The soldier yelled in pain, but still raised his submachine gun and shot again, getting Bucky across his metal arm. Bucky stepped forward and grabbed the gun as the man stood. The man surprised him by letting the gun go just as Bucky grabbed it, ripping the knife in his wrist out, and trying to stab Nomad in the heart. The knife skittered against Bucky's armor, the man's weight forcing Bucky back. Bucky punched the man in the face with his robotic arm, but the soldier ignored the blow that cracked his helmet, instead headbutting Bucky then pulling his knife back to stab again, aiming for a seam just under Bucky's helmet. The blade managed to break past the mesh, scraping against Bucky's skin, hot blood coming up.
Bucky punched him with his robot arm, hitting his chest. The arm, fed by advanced machinery and sheer rage, came out the other side of the man.
For a moment, they stood there, the soldier impaled on a metal arm. Then he collapsed, falling down and off of the arm with a loud 'schlick' sound.
Bucky took deep measured breaths. That last guy had actually been worth a damn in a fight. He rolled his shoulders, lifted his gun, and moved forward.
As he headed to where Pete had been leading him, he heard a single gunshot. Bucky ran forward towards the door he heard the gunshot from. Reeling back, he kicked it in, coming forward and looking around rifle point. In a room full of filing cabinets and bookshelves, many of which had been pushed over or shot full of bullets, a single man stood
"Oh, hey mate," Pete Wisdom, smoking a cigar, looked up at him. At his feet was a dead Hydra soldier. Four of them, actually, strewn about the room like broken toys. Pete chuckled. "Well, yer a bit late to the party. How many of these wankers did you have to kill?"
"Six," Bucky answered, slowly lowering his gun.
"Ah, you win then," Pete said, smirking. His smirk faded after a moment. "...Whatever they wanted. They got it."
"How do you know?" Bucky asked, lowering his gun and walking over to Pete. The room smelled like cordite and burnt flesh. As Bucky came deeper in, he noticed a small pile of bodies in the corner. He looked at Pete.
"...They didn't tell them anything," Pete said, staring at the bodies. Four men and one woman, all wearing business suits. The woman was staring at them with empty eyes. Pete walked over and gently closed her eyes. "But I saw someone teleport out before I got here. We'll need to go over our files. See what they found that might end up causing us trouble later."
Bucky trailed his eyes along the chest of one of the Hydra operatives. The man had five holes the size of a blade in his chest. It looked burnt, like a smoking hot knife had been stabbed into him several times.
"Like it?" Pete said, walking over. "Or do you always admire dead bodies. Cause I'll be honest mate, it's damn creepy."
"What did you kill them with?" Bucky said curiously.
"..." In answer, Pete reached into a pocket and took out a long blade of modern design. He flicked it, and it soon began to glow a deep red color. "Superheated steel. Still in production, but these blokes cut armor like a bloody knife through butter. Likely BRIDGE will be getting their own once we work out the power issues."
Pete put away the knife before Bucky could get a better look at it, smirking just a bit. "So. Shall we see if those knights have won their own fight?"
Bucky put away the thought that the knife just looked too small to have any sort of power source, focusing instead on Steve. "Yeah. Lets go check on them."
Steve Rogers/Captain America
Steve sent his shield spinning outward at his flying target. The edge hit a Hydra agent across the forehead with deceptive gentleness, knocking him out of the air from where he'd been zipping around above him. Steve caught the man out of the air, twisted around, and slammed him into the ground with a sound of broken bones. Then he looked up, eyes panning the area. That had been the last of them. The rest of Hydra agents were lying about the rooftop like broken toys. One man, lying on the edge, was about to fall off to the streets below. Steve caught him by his belt and pulled him gently back onto the roof.
"Ragh!" Benedict snapped the neck of the Hydra-Hulk he had been fighting. The now dead man began to shrink, leaving the dragon man to pant as he stared down at him. The red scaled man had had a hell of a fight. His armor was untouched, but his right eye was bruised a deep green, sweat across his scales. He seemed to be healing however, and looked up at Steve.
"You often fight enemies like this?" Benedict asked, sounding excited.
"No," Steve admitted. "Usually they're a lot stronger than this."
Benedict's eyes lit up with joy.
Steve looked around, a thoughtful look on his face. What had been the point of all this? These agents were tough, yes. But they had no chance against him. Was Hydra just spending bodies by now?
"Steve," Bucky said through the quantum com link. "Whatever Hydra wanted, it was in the building. They got it."
"And I'm afraid I have worse news," a familiar upper-class accent said.
Steve frowned. "Jarvis?"
"Captain Rogers. Dial and Mr. Stark were also attacked."
Steve snapped a hand to his ear. "What!?"
Benedict walked over, looking worried despite not hearing the conversation.
"They are all right. But I am receiving reports that this isn't an isolated attack on the Avengers alone. A team being trained in Morocco to support their government has been murdered. Luna Snow and her allies fought off an attack. We cannot contact the Winter Guard. I'm still compiling reports, but this is large scale a terrorist attack."
Steve stared up at the sky, horror filling him. "Jarvis, send us where we need to go."
"BRIDGE agents are already on the move. I recommend you come home immediately. We'll need to begin our counterattack sooner than we believed."
"Got it," Steve looked at Benedict. "Sir Benedict. I have to go. This attack. It wasn't just here. I have to-"
"No need to explain Captain," Benedict said, lifting his sword onto his shoulder. "Do what you must. Just know that I will be at your beck and call should you need me," his eyes glimmered. When he spoke, Steve thought he could see steam coming from his lips. "A knight does not accept an attack on his castle. A dragon does not tolerate an attack on his hoard either."
Steve nodded. As he ran off, his worry continued to mount.
Attacks all over the world. Including on the Winter Guard. Was everyone okay?
Galina Nemirovsky/ The Crimson Dynamo
Galina had been walking through the halls of the Winter Guard base, tapping at a tablet in her hands. She'd been almost loath to use the tablet at first. It was one of a few gifts from Stark, the latest version of StarkRigg tech, not out yet. It had come along with some other technology, as well as a note.
"Now you can start making real armor."
Arrogant bastard. He made damn good tech though.
Galina snapped her fingers, and the tablet projected a hologram of her latest armor. She was playing around with making a smaller version of her suit, but that would get rid of one of the things that was most recognizable about the Crimson Dynamo. Still, a more advanced undersuit might be good, something for the case someone breached the main suit and she still needed to fight. Or if she couldn't fit the main suit in a doorway she didn't want to break.
She was playing around with the suit, removing and replacing sections of the hologram as she walked, when the lights turned off. Her tablet lasted for a bit longer, fighting against whatever had happened before turning off as well.
"...Cherno," Galina sighed angrily.
It had been months since he'd done this! Why now?
Annoyed, Galina completed the walk to her workshop, placing the now dead tablet on a table. She couldn't see too well, but she'd pretty much memorized the layout of her workshop. "Cherno, I don't know if you're hanging out in the shadows, but if you try to jump me, I'm going to delete your Netflix subscription."
That was a bit of a low blow, but she wasn't in the mood. Seriously, Chernobog had promised never to do this again! Just because he cou-
Someone stepped behind her. Used to Kraven and Chernobog's stealthier movements, Galina turned in the dark to face the person, ready to roll her eyes at the pranksters.
She'd turned just in time for the blade to slice along the side of her head, rather than stab her in the brain. Galina shouted in pain, instinctively kicking out at the shadows. She rolled aside when her kick hit empty air, and got cut across her shoulder.
This wasn't Chernobog being a jerk. This was an attack.
Galina rolled behind a table, wincing at the pain in her shoulder. It wasn't a deep cut, but she wasn't used to getting cut too often. Her armor. She had to get to her suit. Except, if her attackers were smart…
Galini grabbed a wrench and screwdriver off the table from where she always left them, and threw the screwdriver in the direction of her armor. Someone sliced the air, the sound of metal on metal following. Galina followed the path of that sound and stepped forward, wrench swinging. Someone blocked the wrench. She punched forward, trying to get her attacker in the face, but felt her knuckles brush against cloth instead, a white-hot line of pain following as her attacker cut her thigh.
Damn it! She needed to see to fight. She had some basic training in fighting in darkness, but nothing as extensive as her attackers. What were they, ninjas?
Galina spun out of the way of a stab, holding to her wrench as she thought fiercely. There were some small parts of her room still glowing with power, but nothing that was actively on. So whatever this EMP was, it didn't affect things that were hardened against such things.
She made sure to remember to gloat at Stark about his precious tablet shutting down while some of her tech was still working.
Galina focused. She needed to fight. Her armor was blocked. So she needed something else. Thankfully, she didn't throw away much. Nothing that worked at least. In a glass cabinet across from her were some of her oldest prototypes.
The slight sound of cloth on some sort of hard material whispered to her right. Galina ducked. Her back was cut, just a bit. She ran for the cabinet, throwing her wrench at it. The glass shattered as she approached, her boots crackling on falling glass. Her knuckles were sliced by broken glass as she reached in. The large metal gauntlet she grabbed almost slipped out of her hand when she misjudged how heavy it was. She recovered and spun around. No time to place the gauntlet on. She could feel someone coming closer. No sound or sight to tell she was being attacked. Only the raw instinct built in humanity after millenia of being hunted in the shadows, reawakened by adrenaline and fear.
She pressed a button on the inside of the gauntlet, a feature she'd put in to be able to test the device without actually wearing it.
VWOOM
A bright blue light flashed, electricity filling the air with crackling sounds. Her attacker screamed at the sudden light, the previous darkness giving it the effect of a flashbang. While he was reeling back, Galina put the gauntlet on, clenching her fist inside the heavy metal armor.
A savage smile lit across her face. "Ладно, трахнись. Моя очередь."
Three men stared at her. They were big, covered in black robes made of some strange material that seemed to pull in light. Each of them wore a black mask of some unknown material over their mouths, some black markings across their faces where the masks didn't cover. They also all had short twisting blades coming out of their knuckles, like some combination of knife and drill.
"Come on!" Galina roared, rushing forward with a fist of lightning.
One of the men roared, stepping forward to stab at her. He was surprised when Galina responded by grabbing the knife in her gauntlet. She flicked a button on the inside of the index finger, having to press a bit harder than she was used to to activate the device.
Still. As she watched hundreds of thousands of volts run through the man through the knife embedded in his arm, she felt some satisfaction.
One of the other men rushed her as his ally was electrocuted, knife raised high. Galina shut off her gauntlet, sending them into darkness once more. She winced when the man continued his attack, unfazed by the sudden darkness. She raised her hand and blocked the blade on her gauntlet. The older material was cut by the strange blade.
Galina conceded ground, sliding back and parrying another attack with her gauntlet. He was strong. Stronger than Kraven, if not as fast. His relatively slower fighting style made up for it with sheer power.
They snapped and punched at each other, Galina using Sambo and Systema fighting styles, the man using some form that focused on short jabs with his blades. He jumped over her in a front-flip, stabbing down at her, while his last ally took out a glass vial with sort of black substance inside.
She took a stab to the collar of her neck, but still smiled savagely as she punched up at the flipping assassin. Up in the air, he had no way to ground himself. The lightning that ran through him cooked him alive.
As his dead body fell behind her, Galina glared at her last opponent. Blood dripping from the cuts she'd sustained. She was sweaty and tired. But still defiant.
"All right bastard," Galina raised an armored fist. "Last fight."
"Then let it truly be my last," he opened the glass vial, staring at her glove, lit up with power. "Your armor is impressive. But no mere technology can match the power of the gods!"
He swigged the liquid. Then he screamed. His voice seemed to echo with inhuman power, his eyes shifting to become completely black. He ran at Galina, screaming.
She punched him in the chest. Electricity ran through him. He laughed, punching Galina in the face. She was sent flying over her table, landing on the ground in a daze. The superhuman assassin tossed aside the table, ran over to her and lifted her by the neck
Galina punched him in the face, lightning sparking from the impact, then again. He laughed, both hands around her throat. Galina choked. Her vision began to go dark. She kicked him in the balls. The inhuman man laughed again, a sadistic and snarling laugh that seemed to echo… wait. It was echoing.
The shadows. They were too long. He didn't seem to notice. Until the darkness reached out with two hands and broke his wrists.
"GAAAA!"
Galina dropped onto the floor, coughing. The monster shouted, staring around. His wrists flopped uselessly, but his black eyes were filled with rage. "Who did that!?"
The laughter. It hadn't stopped. It was getting louder. It echoed in the room, a physical presence against the skin. It seemed to push against the skin.
"Where are you!?" the man lashed out with a broken wrist, the blade in his hand slicing at the darkness.
A sound like a child slurping on a lollipop came from the section he slashed at. The man stared at the stump that remained of his arm. He screamed. Not in rage. In fear.
He stared around at the shadows that had once been his ally. "What… what are you…"
Galina's gauntlet sputtered. Darkness surrounded them. The gauntlet lit up.
And the shadows had formed into the god of shadow. Chernobog smiled down at the terrified man.
"I'm Batman."
Darkness filled the room. When Galina's gauntlet illuminated the room once more, Chernobog stood alone, moving to crouch over Galina. She glared up at him.
"... Fucking REALLY?!"
Chernobog laughed. "What? Would you have preferred Conrad Kurze?"
"Cyka blyat!" Galina spat out, struggling to her feet and rubbing her throat. "What was that?"
"Don't know," Chernobog said. "Delicious though. Alien flesh, mixed with some steroid type poison. I hope we find more. Damn spicy."
"Steroid…" Galina stared down at one of the corpses. "I wonder-"
The lights came on. Galina's computer lit up, and immediately the sound of dozens of calls filled the air. Galina ran over to answer, while Chernobog watched. He looked down at one of the corpses Galina had created, and smiled.
"Absolutely tasty… wonder where I can find more like them?"
As he pondered that, Galina stared at the reports she was getting. "...What is happening out there?" she said softly.