Chapter Text
The road was almost completely snowed under. The headlights didn't reach far enough to illuminate it all, but with the winding path among the tall, powerful trees, there was no much hope for more. His fingers were numb from cold, but that only tightened their grip on the steering wheel. The silence was more and more straining with ich second, his hands reached for the receiver, but it responded only with the static noise.
He was not in hurry. Car`s tires creaked on the snow, getting further and further along the trail. The noise of static and the hum of the engine did not help to relieve the tension from the forced staring into the dark. There was something lurking on the verge of audibility in this, almost soundless, but hollow, like the echo of a scream. It haunted him: in the silence, in the void, in this forest, in the interference. In his own head.
It feels like that if you shouted — it would respond. It seems so easy just to close eyes and yell at the top of lungs…
But it was forbidden.
The road went on and on, further following the tracks of other people's tires into the thicket.
The echo in his head was becoming stronger and stronger, until the unbearable tension of veins, knocked out breath, and ringing ears. When it was almost impossible to endure, his eyes closed for extra seconds, and everything disappeared.
***
Baron Zemo woke up in his cell in a cold sweat. There were same ceiling and walls again — a boring landscape. An underwater prison. Raft. In some days he was infuriated by thoughts of this place, but now they helped to calm down the shortness of breath.
Waking up from nightmares was not something new to him. Though the content itself was a novelty. Usually there were about faces, places, events — most dear ones, loved ones, cursed ones, burned into the memory. Again and again, until you are completely lost between the desires not to wake up and never ever to fall asleep again, to see always and forget forever.
And the latter is more difficult than tearing out a part of himself. He could tear himself apart if needed, but to forget is impossible... It would mean rewriting himself, ceasing to be the person who was once there, fought, loved and hated. His emotions have always been strong, and his attachments are stronger than in many others. For better or for worse. But that wasn't the point right now.
He sighed and pressed his fingers against his closed eyelids to distract himself.
This road from the dream was completely unfamiliar. His good visual memory never failed him before, so Zemo could speak with confidence about this. Has his consciousness run out of the stock of horrors prepared in advance, and now helpfully decided to compose new ones? For the first time in... how many years? Strange, but there was nothing to be surprised at in his situation.
After all, who else among people who do not have superpowers and technologies could brag that he was declared dangerous enough for the Raft? Perhaps he should be proud. But he just could not. He never planned to live up to this moment, and to answer for his sins like this, sitting behind bars... a lot of time is wasted for nothing, so much time.
Can it be that that's why James chose such a punishment for him? Many years of forced meaningless existence. Previously, he wanted to take everything into his own hands, put an end to everything on his own, but now... now he was ready to accept and bear his punishment, even if it tastes like betrayal.
The betrayal of so many things at once: both his family and the Sokovia, who were no longer there. Why him and not them? A family man without a family, a baron of a non-existent country. So many years, so much effort spent in vain, hands up to the elbows in blood… For what? To just wait for the hour of death? To trying to provoke the anger in one particular person over and over again, so that he finally puts an end to all this? And absolved his sins, or rather the only one that the baron was ready to atone for at any cost?
There were few people to whom Helmut was ready to give the role of his executioner, but even here the former Winter Soldier managed to surprise him. However, it was a selfish to expect forgiveness, especially in this form. In the end, everything looked more like an attempt to manipulate again, an attempt to use James as a tool as before.
Though something is still left in him from the perfect Hydra`s weapon…
And that only made the gesture even uglier. Zemo never lied to himself: even with the best intentions, his best skill has always been hurting people he cares about. Deliberate silence, "collateral damage" in the name of a higher goal, when all means are fair…
It was the same with Heike. He loved her, but he never allowed her to look behind one of his masks. It was better that way, as it seemed then. One more day, one more mission far from home, and then everything will finally be fine. He would live happily with his family then, so he thought. Tomorrow.
And now, "tomorrow" has come. Was he happy? Heh.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the grate. The guard, who had been walking around with a disinterested face, was now standing by his cell with a book in his hands.
"Baron Zemo, there's a delivery for you."
Zemo got up from his bunk and gave the guard a quick glance. Sometimes they called him "baron" with mockery for sick fun, since the status here did not matter at all, but there was no hint of such a thing in the voice of this one. Besides, the baron himself did not expect any transfers in the near future. How strange…
What could this mean? Someone from his men? Or "last supper"?
In any case, he was not going to refuse, there was even less entertainment in the small cell of the Raft than in the Berlin one.
The delivery turned out to be a book. And not just any… An exact copy of the Machiavelli`s one, which he himself recently gave away. Oh, it couldn't by any possibility be a coincidence. And a folded page at the end… Not just a copy, but without any doubt exactly the same book. Someone tried to copy everything so that it reminded about the last escape. A friend? An enemy? Still unclear.
He did not allow himself to even begin to hope, but turned the pages, carefully covering the contents from the cameras with the cover of the book. And not in vain: inside there was a small cardboard rectangle, black on one side and white on the other. It wasn't a security guard's pass at all, but there was a certain similarity eighter…
James? It would be nice to believe so, though stupid. He would have come himself, or he would have left some kind of note. No. It was someone else, someone who wanted to remind about it. And this black rectangle could be many things: a black mark, an invitation — but in any case, a sign of attention. Negative or positive? Well, he just had to wait and see.
If it is an invitation, then the sender has definitely managed to intrigue him. If that’s a threat… This will not be the first attempt to eliminate him in prison.
A couple of days later, the expectations were paid off themselves. He was escorted to the interrogation room, which spoke for itself: the conversation was going to be significant enough not to conduct it in the presence of other prisoners. The room was the usual one for this prison: reinforced doors and walls, a table and a chair screwed firmly into the floor, a pair of welded handcuffs for hands and feet. All conditions for increased comfort.
While he was being chained, the baron looked at the hero of the occasion with a polite smile. Or rather, the culprit. A well-groomed woman in expensive clothes was waiting for him on the opposite of the table. Her face was unfamiliar, but Zemo had seen such smiles more than once — she was on her own field now and knew it perfectly well. Was it worth playing along?
One thing was immediately clear, it definitely won't be boring.
When the guards finished, the woman immediately spoke. "Leave us alone. "
At the uncomprehending looks of the guards, she just waved her hands.
"Go on, go. Do as I tell you."
This time they exchanged glances. Leaving dangerous criminals alone in the room with visitors was definitely not part of the job descriptions.
The woman sighed heavily and turned to look directly into the camera in the corner of the room. "Call off the guards."
It seems that this time her request did not go unanswered from above, the radio buzzed, the guards briefly replied "accepted" and left the room.
"Do you see who I have to work with?" the guest pretended to sigh, again focusing all her attention on him. "Let me introduce myself. Countess Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. I've heard a lot about you, Baron Helmut Zemo."
She held out her hand, seeing perfectly well that he would not be able to respond to this gesture in reinforced handcuffs. There were so many contradictory signals. Valentina was clearly doing all this intentionally, and Zemo was not going to fall for this trick.
"I would like to kiss your hand, Countess, but, unfortunately, I am in somewhat straitened circumstances" he smiled wider and inclined his head.
This game can be played by two.
"And this is very unfortunate," she confided, leaning her palms on the table and leaning slightly forward. "I must admit, you have fans."
"Yes?"
Zemo did not hide the skepticism in his voice. Most of people knew him because of the explosion, or the split of the Avengers… And the letter as a rule, were loved, not hated, except for some specific personalities and residents of Sokovia.
His skepticism did not confuse Valentina in any way.
"Yes," she easily confirmed. "Because of your experience with Hydra. Everything that happened before to," she grinned, straightening up again. "That final blow to the Winter Soldier program. And the Flag Smashers? Wow, just wow. Some people are very impressed with your methods. And the creature did not run out of all the heads."
"So, the target is HYDRA?"
The Countess beamed slyly. "It's nice to deal with an intelligent person."
Very, very interesting. Super-soldiers and HYDRA were exactly the things Zemo was willing to interrupt his redemption for. They were more important than duty to James. Maybe his country was dead, but its enemies were still trampling the earth in the world of the living. Yes, the Avengers struck the final blow, but those who prepared the ground and poisoned the world for so long had no right to exist. Especially if the baron has the opportunity to do something about it…
But it still sounded too good to be true.
"I am immensely flattered. Though," he put his fingertips together and looked thoughtfully around the room. "I assume you wouldn't be so kind as to just give me a free hand in this, would you?"
"Of course not," she said, pursing her lips in mock sympathy. "A tracker, some restrictions... trivia things. And if someone catch you, the government will deny everything. But no raids either. Officially at least."
"Personal problems with the Avengers will remain your personal problems," Zemo deciphered for himself and nodded. But there was still something important to discass.
"What about Dora Milaje?"
The Countess waved her hand vaguely and stretched out "Hmm… They are still a problem, but we are working on it."
"So that is it…"
"I advise you to agree. Talents should not rust around, especially such specific ones. In any case, it will be more exciting than the previous entertainments in a Berlin prison."
Zemo's smile became slightly crooked, because he perfectly understood what kind of entertainment she was referring to. To those after which he was transferred to solitary sell under constant supervision.
"Oh, let me assure you, I have the indulgences that I have here, through exceptional behavior." He leaned back in his chair as far as the shackles allowed. "You will not find a single jailer in Raft who could complain about a violation of the regime or an attempt to escape on my part."
And it was true. The Baron has never tried to escape: neither here nor in Berlin. In any case, not in the sense in which one would expect. In the underwater prison, prisoners had few rights and freedoms, but even here he managed to get a radio and books due to impeccable behavior.
... and bribery, of course.
"I don't doubt it at all," the Countess smiled very understandingly.
He thought about it. Is this offer worth accepting or not? Such a cheese could be deep in a mousetrap, but replacing one with another did not frighten him. The question was more about who he would have to work for. He and the Countess were obviously both from the same cloth, and there was no reason to expect an honest answer from de Fontaine. Not here and not now. And most likely never.
Secret services, private influential businessmen and HYDRA itself came to mind as options. If the latter so stupid, he will be happy to take them with him to the grave. The rest most likely want to use him to reach out to some people's secrets and not let others do it first. It was acceptable to live with this and, if chance presume, he could make efforts to ensure that no one got the secret materials.
He nodded.
Old skills really should not be wasted in vain.
"Deal."
"Perfect," Valentina smiled predatory. "The acquaintance with the team will take place in a couple of days after all the other preparations."
"I'm all excited."
A premonition suggested that it definitely won't be boring few days.