----
"I know a lot more than you think," Nolan said smoothly, his voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a blade. "Think carefully about my offer. Honestly, some of the things you're hoarding are just gathering dust. Wouldn't you rather let me put them to good use?"
Nolan's words were not really aimed at Steve they were aimed at the hidden listener.
Nick Fury.
He was sure Fury was monitoring Wanda almost certain.
Wanda was simply too powerful to be left unchecked.
Fury's strategy had always been the same: Covet the power. Fear the power. Chain the power.
The same way he had treated the Hulk.
The same way he treated anyone too powerful to control.
And that's why, in the end, every true powerhouse and every free spirit eventually abandoned S.H.I.E.L.D.
Because Nick Fury didn't want allies.
He wanted weapons.
---
Scarlet energy flared faintly around Wanda's body.
A spark popped off her shoulder tiny but burning with outrage.
She realized then everything she had done, everywhere she had gone recently had been under surveillance.
Without her consent.
Without trust.
Without respect.
Her face tightened.
"I can't help you anymore, Captain," Wanda said, standing up.
Her voice was calm but final.
"You'll have to deal with Fury yourself."
She turned to Nolan and gave him a soft, genuine nod.
"Thank you. For earlier."
Nolan smiled warmly. "Always happy to help a beautiful lady in distress.
If you ever need anything… you know where to find me."
He chuckled lightly, his gaze appreciating but not disrespectful. Wanda, radiant with raw, chaotic beauty, was in her prime—a perfect storm of power and vulnerability.
In Nolan's mind, it wasn't just attraction.
It was an opportunity.
Imagine studying her genome. Unlocking the secrets of Chaos Magic itself...
And maybe, along the way, having a little fun.
Wanda left without a backward glance at Steve, ignoring his stricken expression.
Steve exhaled heavily, his hands clenching at his sides.
"I'll think about your offer," he said quietly.
"You do that," Nolan replied.
Truthfully, if it weren't for Wanda, he wouldn't have bothered meeting Steve at all.
As for Bucky…
Nolan had been wondering: if Bucky was already captured by Stark, who was pulling the strings now?
Zemo?
The name floated through his mind.
But whether this Zemo was a HYDRA commander or a vengeful civilian it didn't matter.
Either way, it had nothing to do with him.
Nolan's plans were already moving forward.
---
A message blinked on Nolan's phone:
"Package secured."
Nolan smiled.
He turned to Norman and Harry.
"Call a meeting. Bring Connors, Max, and Krauss. Harry, you come too."
"Yes, sir!" Norman and Harry chorused instantly.
Harry practically beamed with pride. Being invited into the inner circle wasn't just a career leap it was trust.
True trust.
Unlike certain federal agencies, Nolan could name.
---
Elsewhere…
At a safe house, Clint Barton and Sam Wilson stared at Wanda, confused.
"What happened?" Clint asked, frowning.
Wanda hesitated, then looked them squarely in the eye.
"Did you know why Captain Rogers lost his shield? And why Scott was captured?"
They exchanged uneasy glances.
Clint nodded.
"We know."
Wanda exhaled. "Ask him yourselves."
Without another word, she retreated to her room, shutting the door firmly.
Clint and Sam looked at each other.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what that meant.
They'd failed.
Badly.
---
A few hours later, Steve returned to the safehouse.
He quietly filled them in on everything that had happened.
The confrontation.
Nolan's conditions.
Wanda's departure.
And the heavyweight that now hung around their mission.
"What now?" Sam asked grimly.
Steve's voice was tight.
"I have to talk to Fury."
But before he could move, the phone rang.
Clint picked it up.
"Hello?"
Tony's voice crackled down the line:
"Get to the tower. Now."
Click.
The line went dead.
Clint blinked.
"Tony says… get to the Avengers Tower."
Steve nodded once.
"Let's go."
---
When they arrived at the upper levels of the tower, the atmosphere was heavy.
Tony was there.
So were Natasha, Vision, T'Challa, and Rhodes.
Without a word, Tony turned on the central holo-projector.
A video began to play.
---
December 16th, 1991.
The footage was grainy but clear enough to recognize the scene.
A narrow road.
A dark car driving down the night-shrouded highway.
Suddenly—
A motorcycle screeched into view, cutting the car off.
The rider dismounted.
Steve's breath caught in his throat.
A figure long-haired, gaunt-eyed, dressed in tactical gear.
Bucky.
The Winter Soldier.
Without hesitation, Bucky ripped open the driver's door, dragged the man out, and smashed his skull with a single brutal punch.
The woman in the passenger seat screamed, pleading.
Bucky didn't hesitate.
One blow silenced her forever.
Then he ignited the gas tank, and a thunderous explosion engulfed the car.
Bucky mounted his bike and roared into the night.
The recording ended in cold, merciless silence.
---
Steve's stomach twisted painfully.
Beside him, Tony was shaking, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Breath shuddering in his chest.
"Friday," Tony said hoarsely.
"Target: Winter Soldier."
"Kill him."
---
Steve spun toward him, horrified.
"You can't!"
"You don't know if that footage is real—!"
Tony's voice was raw.
"I know tech better than you ever will, old man. That video is real."
---
"Dammit—Sam!"
Steve barked.
Out in the corridor, Falcon sprang into action. Drones buzzed to life, and gunfire erupted trying to buy them precious seconds.
"You kill Bucky," Steve growled, face dark with fury, "and I swear to God,
I'll end you myself."
This wasn't about politics anymore.
Or even friendship.
This was survival.
Steve would protect what little he had left.
At any cost.
----
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