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Taskmaster stood in a warmly lit elevator surrounded by eight of the Red Room’s guards. Each of the guards held a loaded AK-47, while Taskmaster herself was unarmed. All her weapons were in the armory, including her clawed gloves. She suppressed the urge to check her right holster, the one that was supposed to house her Chiappa Rhino. Normally the small space of the elevator combined with the eight men that encompassed her wouldn't be any cause for anxiety, but the loss of any means to defend herself created a claustrophobia that threatened to block the air from her lungs.
The muted hum of the hydraulics buzzing around the lift was the only noise that populated the confined area and was only mildly effective in easing Taskmaster's latent anxiety. She stole a glance at the floor the elevator was passing and found that they were above the seventy-eighth level. Twenty-two levels below the executive level, which only housed one room. Some of the guards swayed on their feet indicating impatience or boredom. Those types of guards never lasted long. She used them as target practice when they eventually defected. The sound of metal wires scraping against numerous pulleys allowed Taskmaster to pass the time while the lift sped upwards towards the General’s office.
The elevator stopped with a ‘ding’ sound that announced their arrival to the highest part of the floating building. Only Taskmaster exited the lift and walked into the narrow hallway leading to the office. She walked up to a gold door and waited for the full body scan to verify that it was her. The door slid open and allowed the asset inside.
The office was lavish and almost overwhelming at first glance, with its engraved wood walls and fancy art pieces that were undoubtedly auctioned at millions in any country. Various small tables held well maintained plants upon them. Chandeliers hung from the tall ceiling and brought an inviting light to the whole of the room. In the center was a large desk that was the focal point of the room. The desk was made of finely carved agarwood and upon it sat various small sculptures and laptops that the General saw fit to have.
Taskmaster moved to where she faced the center of the desk and close enough to where she could get yet another good look at the General. He was a short man with light gray hair combed back and a fine white stubble on his face. His age showed with the wrinkles on his slightly tanned skin and the glasses that he wore to properly see his work. He wore a plain black tailored suit that spoke nothing of his true status. If one were to see him on the street, they would simply think he would be a successful businessman, nothing more. Despite infinite opportunities to flaunt his wealth, the General only had one large ruby ring on his left pinky finger.
There was a minuscule sense of familiarity that arose whenever she was around him, but she neither knew why nor found the energy to care.
“Taskmaster, I have a mission for you,” the General spoke calmly in a thick Russian accent, waving two of his fingers in a gesture to come closer. She took two steps forward.
“A Widow has forgotten her place,” the General said with a slight tinge of sadness in his voice. He picked up a tablet and slid it across the desk to where Taskmaster could pick it up.
On the tablet screen was the profile of BW-89546. She was twenty-six years old, had shoulder length curly black hair tied up in a high ponytail, and dark freckles peppered across her sepia-brown complexion. but her most identifiable feature was the scar that ranged from the left side of her cupid's bow to just above her the collar of her Widow suit.
She had been in service for the past two decades and every op she’d been on had gone exceptionally well. Her record was exemplary and even was chosen to get another dose of the Widow serum for her work. She had defected six months ago and her tracker was taken out at Tashkent after her last mission. Her last known sighting was in Colombo, Sri Lanka.
“To make matters worse, she has taken out five Widows who have tried to bring her back.” The tablet display shifted to the profiles of BW-67393, BW-68762, BW-76891, BW-69647, and BW-57920. Taskmaster meticulously studied each of their faces, committing their features to memory.
BW-76891 had golden blonde hair done into a French braid and terra-cotta brown skin that had a warm undertone. She had a scar going from the left side of her forehead that ended just past the bottom of her nose. She was only seventeen when she went on the mission and was the youngest of the missing Widows.
BW-68762 had a light beige skin tone with a couple of small scars on her right cheek. She also had a crooked nose from a previous break. Her straight brown hair was put in a neat bun for practicality. Her profile listed her as nineteen when she was declared M.I.A.
BW-67393 was thirty-four when she was sent on her last mission. She had wavy red hair that seemed to sprawl out in all directions but was tied up in a ponytail. Her pale pink skin contrasted with the black and grays of her Widow suit. She had very noticeable bags under her eyes.
BW-69647 was the oldest of the group and was forty-three when she went on the first operation to retrieve the rogue Widow. She had ivory black hair that was done into elaborate braids that trailed behind her head and ended in a tight bun. Her golden-brown skin had spots of pale white peeking out from her hairline and up from her chin. She also had two large scars on the left side of her face intersecting to create an ‘X’ shape.
BW-57920 was twenty-nine and the last Widow to be sent to recover BW-89546 and was the one to request the use of the Taskmaster protocol before she died. Her amber brown skin was sun-tanned due to the area she was stationed in, and her auburn hair was tied back into two separate braids. She was the only one of the Widows that was without a doubt killed, which only drew unfortunate conclusions for the rest.
The General got Taskmaster’s attention with a snap of his fingers and she lifted her head to obey the wordless command. “The Widow has also been collaborating with a HYDRA agent that has recently defected, and reports say she killed several HYDRA agents as well as the five Widows”
The display transitioned to the profile of a man with a tanned complexion and dirty blonde hair that was slicked back with an almost unnecessary amount of gel. His hairstyle put his missing right ear and accompanying scar on full display for all to see. the hazel eyes situated in his sockets were dull and lifeless, like they were plucked straight from a corpse. he had earned a very high rank and was even granted conditional access to HYDRA's dealings with the Red Room. his reason to defect was not given, but he met up with the Widow shortly after he turned traitor.
“Because of that,” the General scoffed, “the garden snakes finally have an excuse to play with their little toy.”
He took the tablet back, tapped on the screen exactly five times, then gave it back to her. The display showed the profile of a man whose face was obscured by a set of goggles and a mask. His messy dark brown hair reached down to his shoulders and his forehead was the only place where his pale white skin was exposed.
But one thing stood out to Taskmaster, instead of flesh, the man’s left arm was a metal prosthetic with a red star adorning the shoulder plating.
“Do you like him?” the General asked innocently, “They call him the Winter Soldier. He’s HYDRA’s best assassin.”
Taskmaster had no preferences, so his question went unanswered.
“Anyway,” the General said while waving his hand dismissively. “Your objective is to terminate BW-89546 and confirm the missing Widows as dead. I'll leave the method up to you and the Soldier. You are also to observe the Soldier as he completes his own mission, and I want a complete threat analysis of him when you get back. BW-89546 also managed to gain some damning information about our affairs in Iceland; bring it back or destroy it; I don't care."
A moment passed to let Taskmaster process her instructions.
“Confirm mission objectives,” the General said stoically.
“Terminate BW-89546 and confirm that the missing Widows are dead; observe the Soldier and recover or destroy all necessary evidence; permission to use non-standard judgment calls is granted for the last objective. Threat analysis of the Soldier is to be reported when all goals are achieved.”
The General nodded as Taskmaster finished her report. “You will be leaving in three hours, and your standard arsenal will be given to you on the way to Colombo. The Soldier will meet with you in a safe house on the outskirts of the city and both of you will have seventy-two hours to complete your respective missions. No handlers will be present, so be on your best behavior.”
The General looked at her with an expectant look in his eye, “understood?”
“Affirmative sir,” she responded stoically.
“You have my permission to leave,” the General said while waving her off.
Taskmaster turned and walked over to the door which opened automatically. She exited the room and walked to the elevator and pressed the button to call it back up. It took a few minutes for the elevator to arrive at the executive level, but once it was there, Taskmaster entered the confined space and pressed a button that directed the elevator to go to the twenty-eighth floor. It was standard pre-mission protocol, Taskmaster was to submit to a diagnostic test before any mission, no matter how trivial. The diagnostic test served to catch any bugs in her chip and make sure she was ready for field work. The evaluation itself only took about ten minutes and would allow Taskmaster to take the rest of her allotted time to train.
The elevator made its way down to the twenty-eighth level and the sliding doors opened with a ‘ding’ sound. Taskmaster exited the lift and made her way down the wide hallways and turned to open a door on her right. On the other side was a large white room that was a stark contrast to the rest of the Red Room’s facilities. The room served as Taskmaster’s main training and maintenance space.
She walked into the space and the door automatically closed behind her. The wall directly to Taskmaster's left could function as a giant television screen used to provide a visual reference to copy combat from. Near the back wall sat a plethora of blinking lights belonging to various servers that were connected to a computer placed perpendicular to the tech; in front and to the left of that. There were also several bio monitors placed under and next to the computer that were hooked up to it.
Taskmaster went directly to the maintenance area and sat on the bench in front of the computer. She sat absolutely still and her posture was perfect, as per standard protocol. Her hands rested on her thighs and her feet were exactly shoulder width apart from each other.
A few minutes passed and the door right across from her opened. A Widow with umber skin entered the room. She had twin braids reaching to her lower back and wide golden-brown eyes. She wore a black sleeveless shirt, matching pants, a pair of fingerless gloves. The Widow also had an abundance of tech kept on her person. The woman had armbands just below her shoulders and the left one held a pocket that contained her inhaler. She was BW-65745-TMH-05, or Lerato as the other Widows called her. She didn't look more than twenty-three years old, but she could be older due to the anti-aging properties of the Widow serum.
Lerato walked over to the computer and booted it up while taking a dose of medicine from her inhaler. She hooked up the suit to the bio monitors and the steady beep of the devices was brought to life. Taskmaster’s heart rate, breathing, blood pressure, and even brain activity was being recorded as per standard procedure.
There was a small ‘click’ sound and Taskmaster’s hood was brought down; then her head was gently pushed forward to expose the data point in the base of her skull. There was another ‘click’ as the drive was inserted into the port.
Information poured into her HUD and arced across her neurons. Taskmaster’s brain immediately translated the material into something that could be understood, but it was nothing that she hadn't seen before, so she let it be. The feeling was soothing to a degree, but it couldn't unravel the tension intertwined with every single muscle fiber in her body. Data flashed behind her irises and seeped into the all the nerves in her head. The program searched for any anomalies in her brain, cybernetic enhancements, and her helmet, but it found nothing.
The arms of code soon retreated back to the drive in her neck where it would be collected and stored in the computer Lerato was operating. The drive was taken out of the data port in her head and she was allowed to bring her head up to a neutral position. The ‘click-clack’ of typing could be heard behind her and the steady beep of the monitors were still going strong. The typing sound soon stopped and Taskmaster lifted her head to find the Widow standing in front of her.
Lerato brought both index fingers up to Taskmaster’s mask, at the corners where the mouth ended, and traced her fingers over the mask in an upward curve.
“Smile,” she said gently, with a smile of her own. Taskmaster couldn't help but to try and mimic the expression under her mask, although it only ended with the edges of her mouth sporadically twitching upwards. A small spark buried deep within Taskmaster hoped to perfectly copy the comfort in Lerato’s eyes.
“I heard about your mission,” Lerato said, “I wish you well.” she looked down- “I hope you come back soon. It gets a little lonely around here.”
Taskmaster nodded and a small part of her wished that smile didn’t fade. That same rogue emotional response from before shared the same sentiment.
Lerato brought her right hand to her ear and said, not to Taskmaster but to the person over the comms, “TM–01 is clear for field work. Data is within the normal range.”
She nodded wordlessly as she listened to the voice in the comm.
Lerato looked up at Taskmaster as she stood to her full height; “you’re good to go. You have about three hours before you have to report to hangar four. They’ll alert us when you're needed.”
She paused, with something akin to remorse on her face. Taskmaster picked up on the way her lower lip trembled slightly; “you have orders to train. I’ve already requested some Widows, three to be exact.”
Taskmaster nodded. She stood motionless while Lerato walked past her to get to the computer. She didn't look because she had no right to assume what her handler was doing on the device.
A few minutes later, three Widows entered the training room, just as Lerato said. They were immediately identified as BW-65748, BW-86457, and BW-98956.
BW-65748 had straight red hair tied back so as to not interfere with her vision. Her pale pink face was peppered with light brown freckles. She was twenty-eight according to her profile and had previously suffered a fracture of her left forearm. Taskmaster had no preferences, but red hair never failed to make something stir inside of her amygdala.
BW-86457 was twenty-two and she had a well-built frame to accompany her in the field. She had ochre skin with a warm undertone with a deep scar etched across her forehead. The Widow had deep brown hair sectioned off into small Bantu knots.
BW-98956, the youngest of the group, was only eighteen; she had a lithe frame and sunken in eyes. She had deep umber skin with patches of pale white in random places. Her pitch-black hair was tied up in a small bun with tiny curls poking out from the side of her head.
They all had their standard uniforms and weaponry on them, while Taskmaster was the only one unarmed. The Widows assumed a fighting stance and Taskmaster did the same. She emulated the stance of the first Widow, BW-65748, who pulled a combat knife out of her right pocket. The Widow had her legs bent, her feet shoulder width apart, and her arms up in a defensive position. BW-98956 and BW-96457 had also taken up a variation of BW-65748's stance and were waiting for an indication to start fighting.
BW-65748 rushed Taskmaster and swiped at her head with the knife, but she simply stepped back and leaned her head back to dodge. Out of the corner of her vision, Taskmaster saw BW-98956 run up and attempt a roundhouse kick to her right side. Without taking her eyes off of the red-haired widow, she grabbed BW-98956’s leg mid-kick and slammed her into the other Widow. Taskmaster let go and the two Widows fell on top of each other. They quickly recuperated and got back into a fighting stance, while cautiously observing Taskmaster. The red-haired Widow attacked first, throwing a front kick at Taskmaster’s stomach. She dodged that and blocked a slash to her stomach. Taskmaster then pushed the Widow back by uppercutting her in the chin, causing her to stumble back a couple of steps. BW-65748 recuperated quickly and started a barrage of attacks in the hopes of overwhelming her opponent.
Right hook. Reverse roundhouse kick. Knee to the groin. Horizontal slash to the neck. Standard combat routine; easy to counteract. She’d seen it innumerable times and could even predict the Widow’s moves. Taskmaster blocked a punch to her mask and grabbed BW-65748’s wrist when the Widow tried to plunge her knife into Taskmaster’s shoulder. She squeezed the Widow’s joint with a mere percentage of her strength, and it snapped. BW-65748 screamed out in pain, but furiously tried to escape from Taskmaster's grasp.
Taskmaster slowly tilted her head a little to the right. She studied the way BW-65748 gripped her knife and the way her fingers twitched as she frantically thought of a way to gain an advantage. Taskmaster’s HUD picked up on the subtle ways the Widow’s body moved as she fought to free herself. She let go of BW-65748 and predictably, the Widow went in for another attack. Taskmaster noticed that even before the fracture, BW-65748 always favored her right arm, which was abnormal. All Widows were supposed to be ambidextrous. She supposed it had to do with BW-65748’s well-healed injury, but that habit was supposed to be rectified as soon as it was noticed. Taskmaster also noticed that BW-65748 always stumbled a little when she recovered from her back kick, a result of a height related injury acquired on a different mission.
She easily exploited the weakness with a well-placed sweep of leg when the Widow steadied herself after yet another unsuccessful attack. BW-65748 fell on her back with a thud. She rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up to her hands and knees, but Taskmaster forced her back down with the heel of her right boot. If the Widow wasn’t stupid, she would take it as a sign to stay down. There wasn’t any shame in losing to Taskmaster.
Taskmaster caught a glimpse of BW-98956 moving behind her while she dealt with the red-haired widow but paid the small girl no mind. She instead focused her attention on BW-96457, who was rapidly approaching. Taskmaster took her foot off BW-65748’s back and turned to face the brown-haired Widow.
Taskmaster knew BW-96457 was a very strategic and competent fighter; one that was used as a role model for younger Widows. However, there was nothing about her fighting style that Taskmaster hadn't seen before. Yet again, she could anticipate the Widow’s moves with perfect accuracy.
Once she was close enough, BW-96457 threw a left hook, which Taskmaster easily dodged. The Widow used her momentum to transition into a powerful back kick which landed square in Taskmaster's chest. It caused her to take a half step back, but she quickly recuperated and delivered a brutal punch to BW-96457’s abdomen. The Widow stumbled back and clutched her stomach but stood back up to her full height and got back into a defensive stance.
Taskmaster swiftly dodged a punch directed at her right ear and counterattacked with an elbow to the Widow’s sternum. She took a labored breath but recovered quickly, just in time to catch a front kick to her gut. The Widow crumpled to the floor with a dull thud.
As soon as she hit the floor, BW-96457 let out a pained wheeze. Taskmaster observed the Widow’s frantic attempts to siphon air into her lungs. Once her ragged breathing turned normal, she tried to get back up on her feet. Taskmaster stopped that by pushing her right foot onto the BW-96457’s stomach, causing her to wince in pain. Taskmaster’s boot dug deeper into the Widow’s diaphragm; she squirmed and her pained expression only worsened with the increased pressure on her ribcage.
There was always a point in a fight where a Widow would silently give up. BW-65748 stopped struggling and just lied on the floor, while BW-96457 simply looked up at Taskmaster with nothing but resignation on her face.
Confirming that, Taskmaster took her foot off of BW-96457 and began to turn around to face the youngest Widow. But before she could even rotate her head, she saw two parts of a standard baton interlock just in front of her neck. The weapon expanded into a staff and was violently pulled against Taskmaster’s neck, forcing her upper body to a backward angle. Her HUD picked up the Widow’s hands gripping the ends of the staff. Electricity arced against her suit, but did not fully make its way into her skin; that gave Taskmaster the opportunity to grab onto the staff with both of her hands. She violently jerked her torso in a forward arc to fling the smaller Widow off of her. BW-98956’s grip on the staff gave out and she went flying over Taskmaster’s head. The Widow’s back hit the floor and she let out a cry of agony when she landed. Taskmaster walked over to BW-98956 with the staff in hand and looked down at the Widow. She had tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and her lower lip was trembling. But, despite the injuries she accrued, BW-98956 tried to get up.
A trait more overtly shown in younger Widows, perseverance was greatly discouraged until it could be controlled. Taskmaster had no preferences, but she always found those Widows more interesting to fight against.
Taskmaster raised the staff over BW-98956 and plunged the weapon into her torso. Electricity raced through her suit and bled into her flesh. The Widow screamed in anguish as she thrashed around on the floor. Her eyes darted around the room as an involuntary action caused by the brutal surge of electric current flooding her nervous system.
Taskmaster kept pressing the staff down on BW-98956’s sternum even after her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her eyelids abruptly slammed shut.
“Enough,” Lerato declared. “The fight is over.”
Taskmaster immediately lifted the staff off of the youngest Widow and stood straight up. Lerato walked over to BW-98956 who was lying on the floor. She was completely still except for the occasional twitching of her fingers. Lerato knelt down and checked BW-98956’s pulse and confirmed that she was still alive.
Taskmaster looked at the other two Widows. BW-65748 and BW-96457 got up and stumbled toward their injured partner; The Widows stayed as far as they could from Taskmaster as they gathered the youngest. They were skittish around her, as to be expected, but Taskmaster paid no mind. BW-65748 picked up BW-98956 in a fireman’s carry with assistance from her brown-haired comrade.
Lerato nodded silently at the Widows, giving them the permission to leave and go to the infirmary. BW-65748 and BW-96457 nodded back and made their way to the elevator. They called the lift and anxiously waited for it to arrive. The elevator door opened for the two and their unconscious comrade. The Widows stepped into the lift and soon disappeared when the door slid shut in front of them.
Taskmaster turned to look at Lerato with something that could almost be described as apprehension in her eyes; Making a handler intervene in a fight was more than sufficient grounds for castigation.
“TM–01 will defer to disciplinary action,” she said in an apathetic tone.
Lerato looked up at Taskmaster with wide eyes. “No, no, disciplinary action will not be taken,” she said frantically, but still keeping with the words that needed to be spoken. “I should have clarified whether you should’ve used non-lethal force or not. Don’t worry about it, I’ll make sure you don’t take the fall for what happened.”
Taskmaster nodded; if her handler decided against punishment, then it would not happen, despite the obvious infraction.
“Only moderate injuries from now on, ok? Can you do that for me?”
“Affirmative,” Taskmaster responded, acknowledging the order.
“Thank you,” Lerato said with a small smile. It quickly faded once the tiny sound of mechanized voices came from her left ear.
She sighed and said, “I'm going to request more Widows, the order to train is in effect until thirty minutes before initiation.”
Taskmaster did not understand the expression on Lerato’s face, but it irked her beyond the directive to keep her handlers pleased with her.
Taskmaster and Lerato didn’t have to wait more than twenty minutes before the next set of Widows arrived. Like the first, they all dropped into defensive stances and the fight began in a flash. It wasn't anything Taskmaster hadn't seen before. She simply followed the set combat parameters and the fight was over in less than half an hour. Lerato cleared them for the infirmary and another set was brought in after them. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. The monotony of it all put her muscle memory to use, but that area had already been perfected and polished and refined to death.
The rotation of Widows brought in for Taskmaster’s ‘training’ eventually stopped and Lerato walked up to her after the last fight had ended.
“We have to go,” she said, “they want you now.”
Taskmaster nodded and the two made their way to the elevator. Lerato called the lift and the two stepped in. The doors closed behind them with a ‘swish’ sound when Lerato pushed the button that would direct the lift to hangar four. The descent was long, due to the fact that the hangers were near the bottom of the Red Room. Lerato never talked when Taskmaster was in the elevator, so the rides always felt longer than they were.
Eventually the elevator stopped and the doors opened to reveal a massive airplane garage lined with quinjets and all manner of planes and helicopters one could think of. The arched ceiling had to be at least fifty feet tall and it was supported by interconnected metal bars that ran parallel to the roof. Red Room guards crawled around the expanse like ants, going to and from various locations to finish whatever task they were assigned. Lerato started walking toward the area where the mission ready planes were on stand-by. It was a fairly short walk; all it required was to turn right from the elevator and walk to the first bay on the right side. It was the designated bay for mission ready planes and helicopters that were waiting for their assigned operatives.
Lerato led her to the quinjet nearest to the bay door and walked around to the back. Taskmaster stood right behind her handler when she knocked on the center of the rear door. There was a small ‘click’ sound, and a small gap opened between the door and the plane itself. The ramp lowered and it soon hit the floor with a dull thud. Taskmaster tilted her head upward and saw nine Red Room guards sitting in the fuselage. eight were arranged in pairs facing each other, while a lone guard sat across from an empty seat. The vacant seat was for her; as per standard protocol, Taskmaster was to be surrounded by guards at all times during transportation.
HOLD HIM DOWN!
Taskmaster’s right hand flinched down to her empty holster. She was about to report the error to Lerato, but the auditory malfunction disappeared as soon as it came. It perplexed her, but the mission directive held much more importance over a minuscule defect.
Pushing it aside, Taskmaster walked up the ramp and into the fuselage. As she made her way through the cramped space, Taskmaster noted that all of the guards either had loaded AEK-971’s or a baton with a tip that could be electrified. The ones closest to her seat held the batons, while the ones farther away from her had the firearms.
Taskmaster sat in the empty seat meant for her and waited for her handler to confirm her leaving. Lerato walked through the same path a few seconds later but continued into the cockpit. There were hushed voices coming from the same location and her handler soon departed once her objective was completed. Taskmaster watched Lerato walk a couple small steps past her, before looking back and offering a ghost of a smile. Her handler exited the plane and the ramp closed behind her with a low-pitched thud.
The guard to Taskmaster’s right-handed her Chiappa Rhino and she immediately placed the firearm in her right holster. An assortment of combat and throwing knives and a new OTs-33 Pernach pistol all went into their respective holsters and pockets. The last weapon Taskmaster was given was a Zastava M76. Taskmaster stood up and slung the rifle over her left shoulder before sitting back down in her seat. All of Taskmaster’s firearms were unloaded and the ammunition for them was to be given to her when the plane landed.
There was approximately ten minutes of stillness before the plane’s engine roared to life. Taskmaster couldn't see the plane’s progress, but she heard the groaning of the hangar doors as the aircraft taxied out onto the runway. The plane accelerated even more and soon left the airstrip at break-neck speed. The craft ascended at a steep angle. Once it was at a serviceable altitude, took a hard left that almost threw the Red Room guards out of their seats despite the fact they were buckled in. The plane finally steadied off and Taskmaster was left to look at the opposite wall and the helmet of the guard facing her.
A few hours passed with Taskmaster staring blankly at the guard across from her. She almost jumped at the small ‘ding’ sound that notified her of a message that appeared in the left corner of her HUD. Taskmaster opened the message and read its contents in full. It outlined the main objectives of the mission, set times for ration intake, mandated hours of inactivity, and location coordinates for the safe house.
The message also contained the standard exceptions to Taskmaster’s operating protocols to ensure that she could operate in public without drawing attention to herself; Taskmaster read the list in full, but there was nothing she hadn't seen before.
The plane’s destination was an airfield outside Chilaw which was about six hours away from the Red Room’s current location. From there, she would drive one of the vehicles to the designated safe house on the outskirts of Colombo and wait for the Winter Soldier to arrive. If the Soldier was already there, then they would take the day to scope out where BW-89546 and HYDRA agent were hiding.
The second day was to terminate the targets and destroy any evidence linking the Red Room and HYDRA to the killings. It had to look like an accident since the Widow and HYDRA agent had successfully integrated themselves in the community; simply killing them outright would cause disorder within the city and could lead to undue attention. it was also important to note that the first and second days did not have set objectives, meaning that if an opportunity arises, Taskmaster and the Winter Soldier could eliminate their targets earlier if need be.
The third and final day was to wait for extraction. Taskmaster and the Soldier were to stay in the safe house until 2100 hours. then, they were to drive back to their respective airfields to be picked up with tangible evidence of the confirmed kills.
Taskmaster kept repeating the mission directives and altered protocols to herself until she felt the plane start to descend. The fog of mindless repetition instantly faded once there was a slight downward angle in the plane. Her muscles instinctively tensed and her fingers curled into fists on top of her thighs. As Taskmaster prepared herself for landing, she noticed the guards become more alert as well. They gripped their weapons even tighter because of Taskmaster’s increased activity, but she paid them no mind and instead waited for the plane to land.
The aircraft soon landed with a violent jolt backwards. Taskmaster, along with all of the guards, steadied themselves once the plane was settled. With only a second of pause, the aircraft began to slowly move forward. Thirty seconds after the plane started moving, the faint sound of metal groaning could be heard from outside. the plane stopped for the final time, and the back door opened in tandem with the sound of hydraulics and hit the ground with a thud. The pilot came out of the cockpit and confirmed that Taskmaster was able to leave. They went back and opened the rear door to allow Taskmaster outside. She stood up from her seat and exited the airplane, but not a step further than that. The open hangar door allowed Taskmaster to see the starry night sky and she decided to switch her HUD to night vision in order to see better in the dark.
Taskmaster could hear a short, muffled conversation between the Red Room guards and the pilot behind her, but while she couldn't hear the exact words, she knew what it was about. The voices soon stopped and the sound of advancing footsteps grew louder in Taskmaster’s ears. The approaching Red Room guard stopped in front of her. Taskmaster stood motionless as he offered three boxes of ammunition in the palm of his hand. She took the first box and inspected the packaging; it was the 9x18mm Markov ammunition for the OTs-33 Pernach. She put the box in one of her pockets and grabbed the next one, the 7.92x57mm Mauser for the Zastava M76 currently slung over her back. That last one was the .357 Magnum rounds for her Chiappa Rhino in her right holster.
Once Taskmaster had put all three boxes in their own pockets, the guard then handed her a set of keys for safe house. Taskmaster was then given the order to head to one of the cars parked near the left wall of the hangar. There was everything from small civilian cars to full on armored SUVs and military vehicles. Taskmaster went over to the Nissan Sentra parked on the far side of the hangar. The gray car was small and discreet but allowed for enough space to store her rifle. Taskmaster opened the rear door, put her rifle under the back seat, and shut the door behind her. She then opened the driver door, sat down, and turned the car on with the key that was already in the ignition.
Taskmaster backed up the car to where it was facing the open hangar door and drove out of the depot. She got on one of the old country roads that cut through innumerable acres of farmland and hilly terrain. usually, Taskmaster had to wear her hood or typical civilian clothing, but since the car had tinted windows, one of the altered protocols allowed her helmet to remain on her head.
Colombo was approximately eighty kilometers away, which would take around two hours to reach. Taskmaster continued driving and eventually got on a freeway that would take her straight to the city. There was basically no traffic, in fact Taskmaster only spotted three cars heading to and from the city at this hour.
When the opportunity presented itself, Taskmaster took an exit and pulled over on the side of the road. While still in the car, she loaded her two sidearms, then got out. As she opened the driver door, Taskmaster grabbed the box of Mauser ammunition in one hand and opened the rear door; she grabbed the rifle and quickly loaded it, then returned it back to its previous spot. She could faintly hear crickets and the chirp of cicadas the surrounding trees. Once she was done, Taskmaster then got back in the car and back on the freeway.
Two hours later, Taskmaster arrived at the outskirts of Colombo’s city limits. She glanced down at the digital clock in the center of the dashboard and found that it was approximately midnight. The safe house wasn’t more than forty minutes away and traffic wasn’t that much of an issue at this hour, even in the city. The suburban area of Borella, while large, was relatively easy to navigate through. Taskmaster soon arrived at the safe house; two slow passes around the block would indicate that both the house and the surrounding area were free of any hostile activity, but standard operating procedure required both a clearing of the interior in addition to the rest of the perimeter check.
She pressed a button overhead to open the garage door, pulled into the space, then closed the door behind her. Taskmaster exited the car and grabbed her rifle from under the backseat before going to unlock the door leading into the house. The key fit into the lock perfectly and a light push caused it to swing open into the hallway. But before going into the house, Taskmaster drew the OTs-33 Pernach and pointed it in the direction of the opened door. She stepped into the hallway and turned left while cautiously sweeping the area. Taskmaster swept the entirety of the safe house and confirmed that there was no one present and that there were no active explosives in the house. All of the standard equipment and amenities were present and working which indicated that maintenance was recently completed. Taskmaster then made her way to the back door and unlocked it with the same key. The backyard was small and the grass was overgrown, but not to where negligence would be considered by an onlooker.
The surrounding houses were empty and dark except for the few civilians that were still awake in their houses, which was of no concern to Taskmaster. What she was looking for was the glint of a scope or a person trying too hard to blend in. Her observation yielded nothing out of the ordinary, so Taskmaster went back inside and locked the door behind her.
It was standard protocol to leave most, if not all, of the lights off at this hour and not to use any of the appliances in the facility unless directed to do so by a handler.
There was nothing for Taskmaster to do at the moment, so she found a gun cleaning kit and a knife sharpener in one of the closets. It was standard protocol to make sure that all weapons were in optimal condition.
She made her way back to the living room while taking her rifle off of her shoulder and leaning it against the coffee table. She then sat down on the couch that faced the front door in order to have a good view of the main entrance and the front hallway. Taskmaster opened the gun kit on the coffee table, took out her two pistols, and placed them on the table within arm’s reach. The last thing she did was set up the rifle stand and rested the Zastava M76 on it.
First, Taskmaster began to clean the barrels of the two handguns, starting with her Chiappa Rhino as she was the most familiar with it. She carefully inserted the fuzzy mop into the barrel and took it out until no dirt showed up on the fuzzy bristles. Taskmaster then moved onto cleaning the outer parts of the gun. She wet a piece of cloth with gun oil and gently wiped off all of the nonexistent grime that could have accumulated on the revolver. Once Taskmaster was done with her Chiappa Rhino, she moved on to her OTs-33 Pernach pistol and repeated the process with the same care that was required for maintaining weapons.
Taskmaster set the two handguns off to the side and brought the rifle stand closer to her. She then disassembled the rifle, not down to every single piece, but to where all of the major components were separated. Taskmaster cleaned the outer parts first, making sure to get her cloth into the nooks and crannies of each part. Once she was done, Taskmaster moved onto the barrel. She first replaced the mop with a bigger one that would fit better in the rifle bore. Taskmaster then pushed the mop into the barrel and it came out clean, but that didn't stop her from doing it a couple more times just to be sure. Once she was done, Taskmaster put the rifle back together and leaned the complete–and loaded–weapon against the small table.
Taskmaster then put the gun stand and cleaning kit away in the same closet that they were found in. Once she returned to the table, she picked up the knife sharpener and made all the preparations needed to use the apparatus. Taskmaster then clamped the tanto style knife onto the knife sharpener and ran the dampened whetstone over the angled blade. The monotonous grinding sound of stone was picked up by the helmet’s audio receptors and the tone brought a strange soothing quality to Taskmaster’s mind. It allowed her to partially slip away while she completed her repetitive task, only stopping to turn the knife over on its side.
Taskmaster repeated the same process for all of her six combat knives, making sure to follow the different paths of each knife. The knives were already razor sharp as per standard protocol, but weapon maintenance was an approved activity that was both productive and passed the time. She finished sharpening all of the knives on her person and set the sharpener back on the table. Now that Taskmaster was done, she planned to clean up after herself and wait for the Winter Soldier.
Taskmaster was about to put the gun cleaning kit and the knife sharpener away, but she was interrupted by the faint sound of a car approaching. The rumbling noise abruptly stopped two seconds later, and Taskmaster was already on her feet with the Zastava buttstock pushed into her left shoulder. Her left index finger waited mere millimeters away from the trigger, ready to fire at less than a moment's notice. She made her way to the entrance of the hallway and pointed the rifle straight at the garage door. It slowly creaked open and she saw the barrel of a pistol gradually emerge from the doorway. Taskmaster could tell it was an Astra A-100 pistol by the outer markings on the left side of the barrel. Her index finger twitched downwards.
The figure holding the pistol showed themselves as they cautiously stepped into the hallway and slowly turned both their head and gun to their right. Even though there was practically no light in the hallway, Taskmaster saw a flash of silver as the figure moved and immediately recognized the red star that sat on the shoulder plating.
“идентифицируйте себя,” Taskmaster stated, knowing that the Soldier could hear her. [Identify yourself]
The Winter Soldier quickly turned to his left to look in Taskmaster’s direction and assumed a defensive position with the barrel of his pistol staring down the scope of the Zastava M76.
“БС свойство–01; HYDRA,” he answered back with a monotone voice. [WS Asset-01]
After a moment the Soldier said, “запрос на назначение,” [request for designation] which prompted Taskmaster to respond with, “TM–01; красная комната.” [TM-01; Red Room]
The Soldier lowered his weapon in tandem with Taskmaster, and reluctantly holstered the weapon. As he moved, she saw the metallic gleam of rifle barrel sticking out over his right shoulder. He had the same mask as what she saw with the General, including the goggles that covered his eyes with dark red lenses.
The Soldier started to move through the hallway, and deeper into the house; Taskmaster followed behind him and the two made their way back to the living room. Once the two entered the common room, the Soldier scanned the room for any anomalies, but only found the maintenance kits on the coffee table.
The Winter Soldier turned back to Taskmaster and asked, "are the weapon sets available for use?"
"Affirmative," Taskmaster replied. She found it odd that he almost immediately switched to English but pushed it aside. it was irrelevant to the mission.
The Soldier went straight over to the knife sharpener and gun cleaning kit. He leaned the newly identified SVDM rifle against the coffee table and sat down on the couch before taking out all of his weapons. In addition to the Astra A-100, he had a Beretta M1951 and exactly six combat knives on his person.
The Soldier repeated the same processes as Taskmaster did at almost the exact same pace, but there were subtle differences in his grip in comparison to hers and his own metal prosthesis. Taskmaster could tell that the Winter Soldier wasn't as familiar with the replacement limb as his natural one, but that only caused minor fumbles that only someone like Taskmaster could see. To anyone else, it would have simply looked like he was being more careful while handling the firearm. Once he was done with his handguns and the rifle, he moved on to sharpen all of the knives in the same way Taskmaster did earlier.
The Soldier soon finished and Taskmaster assisted him in putting the equipment back in its previous place after they both reholstered all of their weapons. The two made their way back to the common room and slung their respective rifles over their shoulders and waited; there was nothing to do. There were no more handler-approved activities to complete, so Taskmaster and the Soldier stood in silence as they couldn't find anything else to do.
"солдат." [Soldier] The Soldier turned his head to face Taskmaster. "Your mission also begins at 0500 hours today, correct?"
"Affirmative," he said. "It is currently 0334. We have two hours and twenty-six minutes until mission start."
Taskmaster nodded. Standby protocols were silently taken into account and she moved to stand behind the couch. The Winter soldier did the same but he chose the corner near the hallway leading to the garage to stand at. The two stood in their respective places for the time being Taskmaster kept an eye on the clock situated in the top left of her HUD and once it hit 0445, she began walking toward the garage door. She sensed the Winter Soldier follow behind her, but continued walking, nonetheless. Taskmaster entered the garage and stepped to the side to let the Winter Soldier into the space. in addition to the Nissan Sentra there was a similar car, but it was a little bigger than the vehicle provided by the Red Room.
"I suggest we take two cars to search the city more efficiently," Taskmaster said neutrally.
"Understood," the Soldier replied. "I have comms so we can communicate."
Taskmaster reached up to her left ear and pushed a button on her helmet. The Winter Soldier's comms almost instantly paired with hers. He nodded to signal success and Taskmaster nodded in return.
the Soldier then went to the car on the right while Taskmaster went to the vehicle on the left. Before she got in the car, she opened the left rear door and placed the Zastava under the back seat like the previous time. Taskmaster, once in the driver's seat, turned on the ignition. before backing out, she opened the garage door with the button, then put the car in reverse and backed out of the safe house's garage. Taskmaster pulled out onto the small neighborhood road and saw the Soldier do the same a few seconds behind her.
The two eventually split up to search different parts of the city. The Winter Soldier took the south half while Taskmaster took the north. Since the Widow's and the HYDRA agent's safe house were unknown, a whole sweep of the city was required. Taskmaster drove through sprawling urban areas that transitioned into neighborhoods and marketplaces. she tagged fifty-one possible suspects for BW-89546 but narrowed it down to ten after a mere two hours. She also tagged twenty-five possible targets for the HYDRA agent, but only seven were very likely to be him.
Despite that, the city of Colombo was large and the portion she was patrolling would take another four. So, Taskmaster kept driving around the city and tagging whoever fit the description of BW-89546. that eventually led her down a suburban road on the outskirts of Colombo. Taskmaster drove a little under the speed limit to both take in her surroundings and not draw attention to herself. nothing caught her eye until a black car of unknown make pulled into the driveway of a house not too far from Taskmaster's position. it wouldn't be an area of interest if the person getting out of the vehicle matched BW-89546's description entirely; down to the placement of freckles on her face and the scar that ran down her chin. Taskmaster zeroed in on the Widow's appearance and noted that she wore a plain T-shirt, a pair of dark wash jeans and a couple of pieces of jewelry on her wrists.
Instead of heading straight of the Widow, Taskmaster took the time to observe and memorize every one of the house's characteristics as she passed by. she then took the nearest left turn and contacted the Winter Soldier. the comm buzzed three times before the Soldier's voice could be heard through the comms.
"что это такое?" [What is it?]
"The plan has sped up. I've ID'd the Widow," Taskmaster reported, "sending you the coordinates now."
She sent over her location over to the Soldier.
It took a couple seconds before Taskmaster heard a response. "Any doubts?"
"No," she confirmed, "it was a one-hundred percent match."
"Understood, ETA twenty minutes," the Soldier replied, bringing an end to the conversation. the comms clicked off a second later.
Taskmaster took the last left turn to circle the block and parked her car right next to the curb separating the road from the front yard. Taskmaster got out of the car and retrieved the Zastava from the backseat. she then made her way to the Widow's car and slashed all four tires. after that, she quietly walked up to the garage door and tested to see if it was unlocked; it was.
Taskmaster slowly lifted the door up, but only up to where she could enter. once she was inside, she set the door down as quietly as she could and moved toward the door that allowed her into the rest of the house. Taskmaster opened the door and silently stepped into the hallway. each step brought her deeper into the house and she stopped just short of the hallway's end. from there Taskmaster could see all of the living room, and most of the kitchen.
the two rooms were almost totally connected with only a half wall on the far side providing a sense of separation. the area nearest to Taskmaster, the common room, only had a large couch running parallel to the wall on Taskmaster's left and had a small table in front of it. There was also large rug that took up most of the floor space in the room. beyond the partition, there was a long counter on the far wall; it had an oven and various smaller tools that would help with preparation of nutritional materials.
Taskmaster could see BW-89546 operating the oven—oblivious to the intruder. she wasn't planning to kill the Widow just yet, but to use her as bait for the HYDRA agent. The Widow was either totally unaware of Taskmaster's presence or hiding it very well. while that was largely irrelevant to the mission objective, it did have influence on what kind of fight Taskmaster was going to get. Did BW-89546 have a strategy, or was she going have to rely on strength alone?
Leaning against the wall, Taskmaster pulled a throwing knife out of one of the pockets on her right thigh. she adjusted her grasp on the knife so the tip of the blade rested between her index, middle finger, and thumb. Taskmaster lowered herself down into a throwing stance, raised the knife above her head, and waited for the perfect time to strike. when she found it, Taskmaster pulled the knife back and launched it forward, aiming for the top of the Widow's spine.
The sound of metal slicing through the air alerted BW-89546 to the danger rapidly approaching her. The Widow instinctively turned around and moved to the left, but not enough to completely avoid the blade. it ended up in her right shoulder, effectively cutting off movement from that limb. The Widow looked up at Taskmaster with wide eyes. her lower lip trembled ever so slightly, but there were no tears.
BW-89546 shot her left hand backward and grabbed a knife from the block behind her. With the large knife in hand, BW-89546 rushed toward Taskmaster with a desperate rage on her face.
Taskmaster met the Widow halfway with a second, larger, knife and redirected a stab at her neck with the flat side of the blade. as BW-89546's knife cut through the empty air, Taskmaster threw a left hook at the Widow's jaw. she stumbled back but recovered quickly, like all Widows should.
Taskmaster dodged a swipe at her chest plating and BW-89546 took the opportunity to grab hold of Taskmaster's knife-wielding hand and forcefully pushed it up above her head. Opting for the more efficient route, Taskmaster shoved the Widow off with her other hand, causing the shorter woman to let go stumble back a few steps. BW-89546 took a second to recover and came at her again with the knife. The Widow unleashed of fury of swings and slashes, but all were either dodged or blocked with ease.
Taskmaster observed every detail of BW-89546's attacks and noted the increasing desperation pushing each strike. The Widow was basically feral at this point, discarding every discipline she was taught in a last-ditch attempt to overpower her hunter. it would have worked if it was just another Widow, but Taskmaster knew how to deal with Widows that had something to protect. despite BW-89546's fervor, the puncture wound was clearly affecting her ability to fight, as evidenced by the way her hands shook as she gripped the knife and the slight falter in her every step.
With all her strength, BW-89546 launched her right leg into the air and aimed for the left side of Taskmaster's helmet, but the appendage was blocked and shoved aside, leaving BW-89546 vulnerable for a brief second. Taskmaster quickly retaliated with a vertical slash at BW-89546's uninjured shoulder, but the Widow dodged to the right and aimed the sharp point of the knife at the space between Taskmaster's chest and shoulder armor. She stepped to the right to avoid the blade and forced her elbow into the Widow's sternum, causing a sharp crack to echo through the house.
BW-89546 coughed and took a quick step back to recover. She then spun into a roundhouse kick that aimed to break Taskmaster's skull. she crouched down to avoid the attack, and that gave the Widow the opportunity to knee Taskmaster in the stomach. the torso armor absorbed most of the impact, but the force was still strong enough to be felt within her bones. Taskmaster shot back up and uppercut the Widow as she ascended. she stumbled back and Taskmaster threw a right hook to keep her down. BW-89546 stumbled back up and assumed a defensive stance with the kitchen knife in her left hand. her expression was still laced with fury and agony, but they were now superseded by fear.
Taskmaster shot her left arm out and thrust her knife at BW-89546's intestinal area. the Widow jumped back to avoid the blade, but Taskmaster quickly dropped her knife and grabbed the shorter woman by the shoulders. she lugged BW-89546 over to the kitchen counter and slammed the Widow's back on the hard stone surface. BW-89546 groaned in pain and tried to shove Taskmaster off, but she was unsuccessful. Taskmaster lifted BW-89546's torso up off of the counter and flung her back down. The Widow's neck was forced to bend due to the force and the back of her head hit the counter with a dull thud.
BW-89546 went limp and Taskmaster let the body slump onto the tile floor. Her curly black hair was strewn about her head and upon further inspection, Taskmaster noted that the Widow's hair was longer than what was seen in her profile; she must have grown it out after she defected. Taskmaster grabbed BW-89546 and threw the woman over her shoulder. she moved deeper into the house, searching for any rope or other thing that could restrain BW-89546 once she woke up. Taskmaster eventually found a length of rope in the garage that she slung over her free shoulder. Taskmaster then went back to the kitchen and picked up a random chair and placed in the living room.
She went back into the kitchen and hoisted the still unconscious BW-89546 up into her arms. the Widow was placed onto the chair in the common room and pat her down to check for any weapons but found that she was unarmed; it was highly unusual, Widows were supposed to have a weapon on them at all times. she also found a flip phone in BW-89546's back pocket. it would be useful to contact the HYDRA agent. After the inspection, she tied the Widow up.
Taskmaster then opened up the phone and found that it didn't have a password, odd but beneficial. she navigated to the calls and found many conversations with only one named contact: Robert. Taskmaster had to assume it was the HYDRA agent, but she would confirm it with the Soldier.
Taskmaster stood facing BW-89546's slumped form with the combat knife in hand. she noted the slow rise and fall of her chest and paid it no mind.
Taskmaster approached the unconscious Widow and gripped the handle of the knife that was still in the woman's shoulder. she pulled the blade out of the BW-89546 and she woke up screaming.
Taskmaster noticed the woman's pupils shrink once she had the chance to process her surroundings. BW-89546 immediately noticed that she was restrained and desperately squirmed against her bonds in an attempt to get free, but her efforts yielded nothing.
"It doesn't matter what you do to me," she chuckled under her breath, "everything you stand for will come crashing down eventually."
Taskmaster kept silent, letting the Widow wear out her vocal cords. she noticed BW-89546's behavior was highly irregular. Widows were trained to be calm in this type of situation, but here she was, struggling and screaming nonsense.
The Widow kept senselessly rambling—albeit much quieter—before abruptly going silent when the sound of a rumbling engine approached the house. it soon shut off and a small thump could be heard from the outside. Taskmaster knew it was most likely the Winter Soldier, but she reached for her Chiappa Rhino just in case. Taskmaster heard the garage door being lifted up and the door to the house creaked open. she saw the Soldier's Astra A-100 peek through the opening and he stepped into the house a second after. The Soldier made his way into house and walked up to Taskmaster.
"Это Вдова?" he asked while looking the Widow over. [This is the Widow?]
Taskmaster nodded, "правильный." [Correct]
The Widow was dead silent at this point.
"What about the HYDRA agent?" the Soldier asked.
"I have BW-89546's communication device." Taskmaster said, "there is only one named contact." she showed the screen to the Winter Solider.
he nodded; "that is the designation of the HYDRA agent."
"Understood," Taskmaster said. "I believe that the HYDRA agent will come if he concludes that the Widow is in danger. we will use her as bait."
the Soldier turned his head to look at the Widow, and Taskmaster did the same. her eyes were wide and unseeing; her lower lip quivered.
"I suggest gagging her," he said, "to prevent her from warning the other target."
"Acknowledged," Taskmaster said with a nod.
she then left the Soldier to look around the house for a suitable material. in one of the closets, Taskmaster found a piece of cloth that seemed to be able to wrap around BW-89546's head. Taskmaster gave it a few tugs to make sure it would hold up under pressure and was satisfied with the results.
With the cloth in hand, Taskmaster made her way back to the Soldier and BW-89546. she was obviously still tied to the chair and being watched by the Soldier who had his Astra A-100 in his right hand. the Soldier looked up to acknowledge Taskmaster as she walked behind the Widow's chair and brought the fabric around BW-89546's mouth. she tied the cloth into a double knot and as soon as the final knot was set, the Widow bit down on the fabric.
Taskmaster walked over to the Soldier; "I will contact the HYDRA agent now."
BW-89546 violently thrashed in response.
"Acknowledged," the Soldier replied neutrally.
Taskmaster nodded, turned on the phone, and hit the call button next to the HYDRA agent's contact.
crackling static and a dial tone flowed from the speaker until a voice could be heard from the other end.
"Cecelia? is everything all, right?" he asked in a slightly worried tone.
Taskmaster looked over to the Winter Soldier and he silently confirmed that the person on the line was the target. She took a few steps over to BW-89546 and held the phone up to her ear; not for the Widow to communicate, but for the HYDRA agent to hear BW-89546's muffled cries as she thrashed against her restraints.
"Cecelia?! What's going on?! Are you OK?"
Taskmaster spoke in the place of the Widow; "you have one hour to come and collect BW-89546. The Red Room is prepared to negotiate."
There was a moment of perfect stillness.
"It is at the safe house, correct?" a pause. "How do I know you’re not lying?" the HYDRA agent grit out.
"You do not," Taskmaster said before abruptly hanging up.
Taskmaster tucked the phone into one of her pockets. "Turn off all of the lights and close all of the blinds. I will get another chair and more rope."
"Understood," the Soldier nodded.
He walked to the other side of the house and Taskmaster could see each section of the house go dark. she then went to the kitchen area, grabbed another chair, and set it across from BW-89546. The Widow let out a strangled moan through her gag; something that sounded like the word, 'please'.
Taskmaster ignored her and instead went to get more rope. she came back with another long piece of rope and set it down on the empty seat. by then, almost the entire house was dark. the soldier was barely visible through the darkness, which reminded Taskmaster to switch her goggles back to night-vision mode. The Winter Soldier finished turning off the lights and approached Taskmaster.
"All the lights are turned off."
"признанный," Taskmaster said, "веревка и стул готовы." [Acknowledged, the rope and chair are ready]
The Soldier nodded, "I will guard the windows at the back."
"Then I will take the front door," Taskmaster said in response. she made her way to the hallway and hid herself from view.
Trom her place, Taskmaster could see the Soldier pull out a combat knife and move into a dark corner that allowed him full view of all three windows on the back wall.
the two waited in their respective places for exactly forty-three minutes and thirty-five seconds before a sound came from the left-most window. Taskmaster and the Winter Soldier stayed still, but BW-89546 began to shift and thrash against her bonds.
The farthest window quietly slid upwards and was secured by its own locking system once it was all of the way up. Taskmaster saw the HYDRA agent's hand stick through the gap and claw at the blinds, breaking them easily. He then pulled his hand back and managed to contort his body in order to step into the house. His feet landed on the hardwood floor with nothing more than a light thud to signal his arrival. It would have been a successful infiltration had it not been for Taskmaster's and the Soldier's enhanced hearing, but he didn't know that. Through the darkness, Taskmaster could see that he was armed with a Browning Hi-Power pistol and had a knife strapped to his left thigh. The HYDRA agent made his way deeper into the house, completely unaware of Taskmaster to his front and the Winter Soldier stalking him from behind.
The Winter Soldier, once he was close enough, tackled the HYDRA agent and put him in a tight headlock; effectively cutting of oxygen from his brain. He struggled and tried to pry off the Soldier off of him, but the lack of air caused his strength to fade and his body went limp a moment after. BW-89546 looked at the scene with pure horror in her eyes.
A few seconds after the HYDRA agent stopped resisting, the Soldier slung the body over his shoulder and made his way over to the empty seat. Taskmaster met up with him and grabbed the rope before the Soldier set the HYDRA agent on the chair. the Soldier had to hold the body in place while Taskmaster disarmed and tied him to the chair.
"I will interrogate BW-89546; letting the HYDRA agent go will be motivation for her to surrender information."
The soldier nodded, "Understood. he will be executed before he escapes."
The two backed away from the Widow and the HYDRA agent and waited until new arrival woke up.
"W-what? Cecelia?!" the HYDRA agent whipped his head left and right before settling on BW-89546's hunched form. Taskmaster untied the Widow's gag, but before she could resume her barrage of insults, the Winter Soldier put a knife up to the HYDRA agent's right jugular vein.
"Where are the Widows?" Taskmaster asked.
BW-89546 grimaced and stared into Taskmaster's visor. "Go fuck yourself."
"Where are the Widows?" Taskmaster asked again and the Soldier pressed the knife deeper into the HYDRA agent's neck.
BW-89546's whole body trembled.
"Where are the Widows?"
The Winter Soldier drew blood.
"They—they're in the… they're in the back room," BW-89546 stammered.
"And where are the Iceland files?" Taskmaster pressed.
"… What do you get out of this?" The Widow asked desperately, "how much are they paying you to do this?"
Taskmaster looked over at the Soldier and nodded; he pulled the knife away from the HYDRA agent but plunged it into his left shoulder not a second later. He screamed in pain and flinched away from the Soldier who kept the chair from falling over. The Soldier twisted the knife and Taskmaster could barely hear flesh giving way to metal over the HYDRA agent wailing in agony.
"Give us the location of the Iceland files and the Soldier will let him go."
The Widow's face contorted from one of fear to pure confusion. "R-really?"
Taskmaster nodded and turned her head to the Winter Soldier who took his hand off of the knife's handle. BW-89546 leaned her head back over the top of the chair and closed her eyes.
"It's—it's under the mattress in the master bedroom." She said deliberately.
Without a word, Taskmaster made her way down the hall and entered the first room on her left. She assumed it was the master bedroom because of the queen size bed placed in the middle of the back wall. Taskmaster moved closer to the bed and noticed it was perfectly made before she lifted up the mattress with her right hand. Even though there wasn't that much light in the room, Taskmaster found a Manila folder lying in the center of the bed frame. she picked it up and set the mattress down without a second thought. Taskmaster sifted through the files and checked off all off the information that was supposed to be present, and all of the information was there. She decided to take it with her instead of destroying it.
Taskmaster went back to the common room and found the Winter Soldier standing behind the bound HYDRA agent.
"The information has been verified," Taskmaster announced while holding the file, "the HYDRA agent may go."
The Soldier nodded and pulled the knife out of the target's shoulder with no fanfare. the HYDRA agent winced in pain but the Soldier paid him no mind as he went to undo the restraints. He untied the ropes holding the HYDRA agent to the chair and stepped back a little. The HYDRA agent hesitantly stood up and clutched the wound on his shoulder before taking a quick step away from the Soldier. it took a second for the HYDRA agent to process that he was begin let go. for a split second, he looked at the Widow with a determined look on his face and bolted for the front door.
The Winter Soldier pulled his Astra A-100 out of its holster and pulled the trigger.
BANG!
Blood, brain tissue, and bone gave way to the unchanging trajectory of the bullet. the HYDRA agent fell to the ground mid-step with nothing more than a dull thud and a wet squelch. blood spilled out of the hole between the HYDRA agent's eyes and slowly seeped into the grooves in the hardwood floor. the fingers twitched against the floor for a moment before going still for the final time.
BW-89546 stared at the still-warm body in shock.
Taskmaster walked toward the back of BW-89546's chair and she hunched down in response to the taller woman's presence. Taskmaster pulled out the OTs-33 Pernach and rested the muzzle on the back of the Widow's head. She clicked the safety off and hooked her left index finger around the trigger.
"What are you waiting for?" BW-89546 asked numbly, "don't drag this shit out."
Taskmaster pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The body slumped over in the chair, only held up by the ropes that tied it to the seat. blood and what was left of the brain slowly oozed out of the hole in the forehead. the liquid dripping onto the floor was the loudest sound in the house.
"BW-89546 is dead." Taskmaster said, walking over to the Winter Soldier, "mission protocol states that the other Widows need to be found."
Taskmaster made her way down the hallway, noting that Soldier began to follow after her. at the end of the hallway, past the master bedroom, was a simple wooden door that was pushed aside to allow the two entries. the space itself was plain; there were no decorations on the walls, in contrast to the rest of the house which actually looked like someone lived in it. Taskmaster immediately noticed that the room was also colder than the rest of the house. And while there was no real furniture, there was exactly five large coolers lined up against the walls; three pushed up against the back and one on each of the sides.
Taskmaster went to open up the cooler on the left; she lifted the lid and was met with a bunch of red-tinted ice, almost to the point of overflow. she brushed some of the ice away and found the face of a woman staring back at her with unseeing eyes Taskmaster immediately recognized her as BW-76891. her usually warm brown skin was pale and streaks of damp blonde hair was stuck to her face. Taskmaster reached into the cooler and grabbed the Widow's hair. she slowly pulled the head up and out of the ice; once the neck surfaced, Taskmaster saw a deep slit going all the way across BW-76891's throat. she put the head back in the cooler and closed the lid.
"Brown hair, pale skin, small scars on the right cheek." the Soldier called out from across the room. "Entry wound and exit wound from a rifled firearm on the left and right side of the head respectively."
"BW-68762," Taskmaster confirmed.
Taskmaster moved onto the right-most cooler and reached into the pure white ice to pull out a head of wavy red hair that belonged to BW-67393. the body didn't have any injures on the face or neck, but a quick pulse check confirmed the Widow was dead.
as Taskmaster moved to the cooler in the middle and lifted the lid, she heard the Winter Soldier call out the features of the Widow he found.
the Soldier listed, "dark skin, vitiligo, black hair, and a 'X' like scar on the left side of the face." and followed up with, "entry wound from a rifled firearm in the upper left area of the neck."
"BW-69647," Taskmaster responded, as she reached into the ice.
Taskmaster's gloved hand pulled out reddish-brown hair that belonged to BW-57920. she noticed no visible damage as the head surfaced and continued pulling the head out of the ice but stopped when the beginning of the Widow's clavicle was visible. Taskmaster noticed that the throat was littered with large spots of purple and green contusions, making it clear that the Widow died from strangulation.
"All the Widows are accounted for," Taskmaster said as she closed the lid and picked up the two nearest coolers.
Acknowledged," the Winter Soldier replied.
the Soldier left the room and Taskmaster followed soon after; they both made their way to the garage and the Soldier lifted the garage door up. the sun was setting which was beneficial for transporting the Widows and destroying what was left of the evidence inconspicuously. Taskmaster made her way to the vehicle assigned to her and dropped the two coolers on the ground; the rifle went under the backseats and the first cooler went in the space between the front and the back. the second followed in the same space, and Taskmaster walked back inside to get the others, but not before getting a body bag from the trunk. the other three coolers were put on the backseat and in the truck once space ran out. the last thing to retrieve was the body of BW-89546.
by the time Taskmaster stepped into the common room, the Winter Solider had already bagged his target and was bringing it out towards the garage.
he stopped when Taskmaster approached him. "Three containers of kerosene and a box of matches have been found and placed on the kitchen table," he said, "disposal procedures are ready to be implemented."
"Acknowledged," Taskmaster said, before she continued into the living room.
The body was still slumped over and tied to the chair, but the bleeding from the forehead had slowed to little more than a trickle. Taskmaster laid the body bag right next to the chair and unzipped it before untying the ropes keeping the corpse upright. The body fell in the small puddle of blood under it with a wet thump; the clothes the body wore became stained with the red liquid and stuck to the cool flesh. Taskmaster picked the body up and slid it into the bag. Taskmaster zipped up the bag, threw it over her shoulder, and went back to put it in the car.
Taskmaster opened the door to the garage and saw the Winter Soldier standing in front of the car he was assigned. he silently watched Taskmaster Approach the Red Room's vehicle and open the trunk with her free hand. she dropped the body bag on the cooler in the trunk and closed the compartment.
Taskmaster walked over to the Soldier, "disposal protocols are ready to be implemented."
"Acknowledged," he said.
the two went back inside and navigated to the kitchen which had a medium sized table off to the left side of the area. the three cans of kerosene were on the table, like the Soldier said. he grabbed two while Taskmaster put the matchbox in her pocket and got the last one.
the two went all throughout the house, pouring kerosene until all of the cans were empty. Taskmaster made sure to fling some of the liquid out farther to get the corners and furniture. she ended up in the master bedroom with a path of kerosene trailing behind her. Taskmaster made her way to the garage, set her gas can down, and waited for the Winter Soldier to finish. a minute later, Taskmaster saw him turn the corner with both gas cans in his hand, spilling what was left of the kerosene on the floor. the Soldier set his containers down in the same location as Taskmaster's and looked back at her.
"готовый," he stated. [Ready.]
Taskmaster nodded and pulled out the matchbox, "понял."
Taskmaster took out a small match, not longer than her fifth finger, and struck it against the red phosphorus on the matchbox. The match head lit up and Taskmaster dropped it into the clear liquid.
As soon as the match touched the kerosene, fire erupted from the ground and spread throughout the room. the flames quickly spread and Taskmaster could hear the smoke detectors going off deeper inside the house. Soon the sheer amount of smoke was enough to choke the air out of anybody that wasn't wearing respiratory protection. Taskmaster made her way to the garage door and lifted it up, allowing the Soldier to go outside. she followed after and closed the door behind her. One last observation of the house confirmed that the flames were spreading throughout the building.
by now, the sun was below the horizon, which was beneficial in allowing the two to return to the safe house. Taskmaster estimated that it would be two hours until the fire would be treated, and by then the house, and all of the evidence would be destroyed.
Taskmaster got into the car and drove away, and from the rear-view mirror she saw the Soldier pull out of the driveway and follow behind her. The drive was a little shorter due to the lack of traffic, but it still took a considerable amount of time to get back to the safe house. The road was quiet and the only sound that could be heard was the rumbling of the engine and the slight rustle of the cargo whenever Taskmaster went over a particularly bumpy area.
Taskmaster pulled into the garage and turned off the engine. she stepped out of car and made her way to the trunk. she took out some the coolers and entered the house. Taskmaster made her way to one of the empty rooms and dropped the cargo off. it took a couple of trips but soon all of the coolers and the body bag were secured in the safe house.
Taskmaster heard the Winter Soldier arrive approximately a minute after she finished unloading the cargo. she saw him walking through the hallway carrying the HYDRA agent's body over his metal shoulder; he went into the room and laid the body bag in a separate area, easily distinguishable from Taskmaster's group of items. The Soldier left the room first, and Taskmaster exited the room after lowering the temperature of the room to further delay the decomposition process.
The two made their way to the common room and Taskmaster was met with the fact that there was nothing to do. She opted to retrieve the weapon sets to do what little maintenance was required for the OTs-33 Pernach. she knew that the Winter Soldier would also need to clean his weapons, so it would be beneficial for both of them. Taskmaster brought the cleaning kits into the living room and set it down on the coffee table.
"Я буду использовать комплект для обслуживания оружия," Taskmaster said. [I will use the weapon maintenince kit.]
"Then I will use the knife set," the Soldier replied.
they both sat down on the couch and got to work on their weapons. Taskmaster disassembled the pistol and cleaned out the barrel and inner mechanisms. she also took the time to inspect the weapon for any imperfections and anomalies but found nothing of note. once Taskmaster was done, she put the gun back together and loaded it. She looked over at the Soldier and saw him cleaning the knife with a cloth and once all the blood was wiped off, he sharpened the blade until it regained what little edge it lost gliding across the HYDRA agent's neck. Taskmaster moved the gun cleaning kit over to the Soldier as he put his weapons back in their places. he started disassembling his Astra A-100 and once it was all apart, he cleaned all of the parts with a cloth soaked in gun oil. once the Soldier was done, he put the weapon back together and loaded it, before putting it back in its holster.
The time it took to perform the needed maintenance protocols was short, and when Taskmaster checked the clock on her HUD and it displayed 0356 hours in its red blocky font; just within her mandated hours of inactivity.
Taskmaster turned her head to the Winter Soldier; "Когда начался ваш обязательный период отдыха?" [When did your mandatory rest period begin?]
"это началось час назад," he replied. [It began an hour ago.]
"понял," Taskmaster said as she got up from the couch and went into one of the bedrooms.
beds were reserved for handlers, so she went around to the back and set herself down on the floor behind the bed. the back of Taskmaster's helmet rested on the hardwood floor. the helmet's audio receptors became attuned to even the slightest sound and would wake her up if something was even the slightest bit off. Taskmaster closed her eyes and the visor's interface dimmed.
it couldn't be called sleep, but it was often described by scientists and handlers as Taskmaster's awareness closing in on itself to allow her brain to rest, but still be able to react to any threat before any irreparable damage was caused. "Faux sleeping" is what they called it. Taskmaster didn't fully lose consciousness but she let the time slip away and the tension leave her body, at least temporarily.
Taskmaster didn't know how much time passed while she was inactive, but she was instantly awoken to the sound of a guttural scream. Taskmaster leapt to her feet and her right hand pulled her Chiappa Rhino out of its holster. her right index finger curled around the trigger.
Taskmaster exited the bedroom and went into the common room, where she last saw the Winter Soldier. she found him stumbling around the room with his head in his hands. Taskmaster heard him mumbling nonsense, but could pick up random words in English, Russian, and few other languages that she knew. The Soldier's goggles were lying upside down on the table, and Taskmaster looked up to find pale blue eyes staring back at her with terror in their shrunken pupils. The only thing that covered his face was the mask.
Once the Soldier noticed Taskmaster's presence, he immediately curled in on himself, lowering his head and putting the back of his arms on his chest. Taskmaster realized that the Soldier was unarmed, evidenced by his empty holsters and weapons strewn about the room.
Taskmaster came a little closer to the Soldier with slow steps and the barrel of the pistol trained on his chest. Taskmaster put the gun away and slowly approached the Soldier with her hands in the air to signal non-violence. she didn't know why she was doing this, but it just felt correct. the Soldier made no effort to move and Taskmaster took that as a sign to come closer. she moved the coffee table away to allow more space and carefully guided the Soldier to sit down on the floor in front of the couch. Taskmaster knelt down in front of the Soldier, putting her visor just above his eye level.
the Soldier was shaking and still muttering incomprehensible nonsense, but it had slowed down to a more manageable rate.
"что-нибудь [Everything] … all… wrong," he slurred.
The Winter Soldier raised his hands up to the sides of his face for a reason unknown to Taskmaster. she raised up her own hands and slowly pushed them against each other before touching her right hand to the Soldier's organic one. she then touched her left hand to the Soldier's cybernetic equivalent. he seemed perplexed at Taskmaster's actions, but hesitantly conformed to the rhythm. the actions felt familiar, but not in any way that Taskmaster had registered before.
"Who… am… я [I] …?" he asked during a pause.
"You are БС свойство–01," Taskmaster replied. "Alternate designations include: the Winter Soldier, Зимний Солдат, and the Fist of HYDRA." [WS Asset-01] [Winter Soldier]
the Soldier's eyes darted around the room and his brows furrowed.
"кто… такие… you? [Who… are…]
"Personal designation: TM–01. Alternate designations include Taskmaster, and the Red Blade; Taskmaster is more commonly used for verbal commands and discipline."
the Winter Soldier shakily lifted his head and brought it back down to acknowledge Taskmaster's statements.
"…хорошо." [Okay.]
the Soldier still seemed agitated, and after a moment of quiet, Taskmaster brought both of her index fingers up to the Soldier's mask. he flinched backwards, and Taskmaster retracted her fingers a little in response. she tried again and this time, the Soldier stayed still. Taskmaster's fingers met at the center of the Soldier's mask and traveled upwards and away from each other. her gloved fingers ghosted across the hard plastic and ended at the start of his cheekbones.
"Smile," Taskmaster said, trying to mimic the tone and inflection of Lerato's voice. But it was the one thing she couldn't fully mimic.
To her muted surprise, the Soldier leaned into the touch. After a few moments of physical contact, Taskmaster slowly pulled herself away from the Soldier, who became more anxious as the distance increased, but calmed down when Taskmaster put her right hand on his shoulder.
underneath the helmet, Taskmaster's eyebrows furrowed in confusion; she did not know the origin of what she assumed was a calming protocol. She knew Lerato's part, but the sequential touching of hands in a repeated pattern was completely unknown, except for a rogue emotional response that Taskmaster could not place beyond a fleeting sense of acquaintance.
Taskmaster quickly refocused on the Winter Soldier and asked, "Вы работоспособны?" [Are you in working order?]
"да," he said, sounding more composed. [Yes.]
Taskmaster got up but motioned for the Soldier to stay down. she walked over to the goggles on the table and picked them up. She went back to the Soldier, knelt down, and offered the goggles to him. the Soldier's hand hesitantly took it and situated it onto his eyes. Taskmaster stood up and extended her hand out in front of her that the Soldier took in order to get back on his feet. The two silently cleaned up the mess in the room.
Taskmaster and the Winter Soldier found themselves with nothing else to do after they finished cleaning, and the only option was to repeat weapon maintenance just to pass the time. so, they did, and within two hours all of the weapons—even the ones that weren't used—were cleaned out and loaded. The day went by in a blur despite nothing happening; Taskmaster and the Soldier rotated through a cycle of places in the house guarding nothing but corpses.
Night came with no fanfare, and it was time for Taskmaster and the Soldier to adhere to their respective inactive hours. Taskmaster set herself down at the same place she faux-slept last night. she laid down and put the palms of her hands on the floor. Taskmaster was just about to close her eyes when the faint sound of a door opening caused her to spring back into full awareness. Her right hand grabbed her Chiappa Rhino and brought it up in an arc that ended with the barrel pointing at the Soldier's chest.
He raised his hands with a slight tremble that would only be noticed by another super soldier.
"…Requesting to rest in the same premises?"
"It would not be logical for the both of us to rest in this room," Taskmaster replied, "it would instead be beneficial that we relocate to the common room."
The two exited the bedroom and walked into the living room. Taskmaster sat against the back wall and closed her eyes. she heard the Soldier sit down beside her and made no sound after that. the night went the same as the last one, with no malfunctions on the part of the security system nor the two assets.
Taskmaster and the Winter Soldier awoke at exactly 0400 hours; they began the day with a MRE each, which Taskmaster ate in a separate room, and a simple interior perimeter check that revealed nothing out of the ordinary. they spent the rest of the day repeating the same cycle as they did yesterday. the day went by a little slower than yesterday, but it soon reached the 1800 hours; the designated time where Taskmaster and the Winter Soldier were to pack up the house and leave it clean for the next use. besides plates and other miscellaneous things that the two had to use for daily functions, there was nothing else to clean up.
Once they were done, Taskmaster and the Soldier walked over to the room where all the bodies were stored. The soldier went to the right side of the room and picked up the lone body bag, while Taskmaster slung the body bag on the left side of the room over her shoulder and picked up the nearest cooler with her available hand. the two went to the garage and packed up the cargo. Taskmaster had to make some more trips, so she headed back toward the door, expecting to hear the start of an engine. but there was no such sound, instead the Winter Soldier walked up to her.
"It would be more efficient if I assisted in loading the car."
"Acknowledged," Taskmaster replied.
Taskmaster and the Winter Soldier went back to the room and each grabbed two coolers. they, for the final time, entered the garage. Taskmaster put the two coolers on the car floor and the Soldier put the other two on the back seats. Taskmaster finished off by putting the Zastava on top of the coolers. she closed the rear door and went around to open the driver door. by now, it was 1954 hours and that was the optimal time to leave.
the Winter Soldier, now a mere foot a way, turned to her; his face completely covered with the mask and goggles.
"…Спасибо," the Soldier whispered with his head tilted downward. [Thank you.]
"это было на благо миссии," Taskmaster said with a nod. [It was for the good of the mission.]
The soldier turned and walked over to and got into the driver seat of the car. The garage door opened a second later and the vehicle backed out onto the driveway. The Soldier drove onto the street and the car disappeared from view. Taskmaster entered the remaining vehicle and exited the safe house, closing the garage door as she was backing out.
The drive back to the airfield near Chilaw was a little longer than the drive to the safe house due to the amount of traffic, but the travel time was still under three hours. The route was similar to the first one, but there were a few turns that were different. Taskmaster arrived at the airfield at 2354 and got out of the car after she parked the car in the same place it was found. the quinjet was already in the hangar and the rear door opened as Taskmaster got out of the car. Red Room guards spilled out of the aircraft and met Taskmaster at the car.
"вдовы?" one of them asked. [The Widows?]
"на заднем сиденье и в багажнике," Taskmaster said as she opened the back door. [In the back seat and trunk.]
the guards took the coolers and body bag and inspected the corpses. Taskmaster was given the go-ahead to board the place and the guards followed with the cargo. Taskmaster sat down on her designated seat and watched the Red Room guards set the cargo on the floor. they sat down and buckled themselves to the seats before grabbing their weapons. there was a shout from one of the guards, and the plane jolted backwards. the aircraft took off a second later and was soon on its way to the Red Room.
it was another six hours before the plane touched down at one of the Red Room's hangars. Taskmaster was escorted out of the aircraft by two of the guards while the others transported the cargo to the morgue. a lone solider met up with the group to take Taskmaster's weapons, and she was left unarmed after he left. Taskmaster's escort joined up with six other guards and went towards an elevator. the group went up through multiple lifts before entering the elevator that went up to the General's office. Taskmaster was the only one to leave the elevator once it stopped. she went down the hallway and stood in front of the full body scan; the door beside it opened and Taskmaster went inside. the General sat at his desk with his elbows on the table and his fingers interlocked. she went to the front of the desk and the General looked up at her.
"All the Widows are deceased and accounted for. no witnesses were present and the residence has been destroyed via fire," Taskmaster said as she pulled the file out of her pack. "Evidence has been recovered." she put the file on the desk for the General to inspect.
"очень хороший, Надсмотрщик," he said with a smirk. [Very good, Taskmaster]
Taskmaster nodded.
"What about the Soldier?" the General asked with a tilt of his head. he tapped on his tablet screen, signaling Taskmaster to begin her analysis.
"The Winter Soldier is an excellent asset who is proficient in marksmanship, and all forms of melee combat. He is familiar with both HYDRA's and Red Room's procedure for interrogation and execution, making him an effective asset in both overt and covert operations."
Taskmaster paused, "the Soldier follows set plans as they are laid out and works well with other operatives. He is better aligned with the Red Room's interests due to those factors. He not one to take lightly if HYDRA turns on the Red Room."
"Any problems?" the General asked with a small dismissive wave.
"The Winter Soldier suffered a moderate to severe cognitive breakdown on the morning of March 6th, 1996. For unknown reasons, he seemed to have rid himself from his weapons and they were all lying all around the floor. his goggles were also removed and placed on a table in the common room. TM–01 used an unknown calming protocol to conciliate the Soldier."
Taskmaster looked at the General and her throat threatened to close in on itself. his lips were pursed and his left eyebrow was raised while the other was turned downward.
"Details. Now." he said with razors in his voice.
"First TM–01 touched the Soldier's hands in a rhythmic sequence: both hands came to together"—Taskmaster demonstrated a clapping motion—"before touching the Soldier's right hand with the equivalent," Taskmaster raised her right hand a little above shoulder level and lowered it after two seconds.
"Then the left hand came up to touch the Soldier's cybernetic hand." Taskmaster raised her left hand a little above shoulder level. "The process repeated until the Soldier asked for both his and it's designation, which was given."
Taskmaster knew there was nothing she could do to alleviate the General's anger, so she finished the explanation efficiently as she could.
"The Soldier was still agitated, so TM–01 put both index fingers on the center of the Winter Soldier's mask and traced upward before stopping. TM–01 said 'smile' as it preformed the action. the action was initially performed by BW-65745-TMH-05 before and after most missions."
The General sighed angrily and tapped a few times on the tablet.
"Floor twelve, now."
"Understood," Taskmaster said quietly.
she turned away and walked back to the door, forcing her legs to carry her upper body without faltering. the door opened for her and she walked toward the elevator. the sliding doors opened for Taskmaster and she went into the confined space. the button for number twelve flashed bright red and the lift shook to life. the elevator descended sharply; it always went faster when the destination was the twelfth floor.
the lift stopped with a dull thud and the sliding doors revealed a wide hallway that had steel doors situated on each of the opposing sides. they were thick and heavy, and the only way to see what was inside was a small panel of tempered glass that was shielded by interlocking metal bars. Taskmaster heard a pair of footsteps coming down the hallway and soon saw a man with a short mop of black hair. he had a scar that started from the left side of his forehead, ran across the bridge of his nose, and ended at the beginning of his neck. the man wore a simple black shirt and pants, and he held a cat o' nine tails in his left hand. Taskmaster's right fingers twitched.
he saw Taskmaster and wordlessly turned around; that was her signal to follow. the man led her down the long hallway and took a left turn before approaching a door unlike the others; there was no window and keypad on the right wall. with his free hand, he punched in a numerical combination and opened the door. Taskmaster went in first and found the room unchanged. the bar in the middle of the room still had ropes dangling off of it and the poles that supported it had a pair of cuffs attached to either one with a chain. Anticipating the order, Taskmaster made her way over to the contraption.
"Strip down to the first layer," the man said neutrally.
Taskmaster tapped a button on her right gauntlet and tapped another once the panel opened up. the helmet disassembled and she took it off before setting it on the floor. she took off all of her body armor and put the collection in the same area. Taskmaster then discarded wore a thick black long-sleeved shirt, black pants, socks, and the pair of combat boots the reached just below her knees. Now Taskmaster was only dressed in a pair of shorts and unrevealing bra with thick shoulder straps. the chip on the back of her neck cooled down significantly when it was exposed.
the man approached and said, "arms out."
Taskmaster complied the man attached the cuffs to both wrists. Taskmaster heard the door opened a second time and about five to ten people walked in. Judging by the difference in strides, the ratio was five widows to three handlers. One of the handlers circled around to Antonia could see him. He had light brown hair and a too-wide smile plastered on his pale face. Yellow teeth matched with a long cigarette that sat in the left corner of his mouth.
"TM–01, do you know why you are here?" The man asked with false niceties.
"Unauthorized use of a protocol from an unknown source to calm БС свойство–01."
"Correct," he said with nod.
A searing pain ran diagonal across Taskmaster's back and she fought the urge to scream. She won against her vocal cords, but her arms thrashed violently against their restraints. she felt warm blood ran down her muscled back and dripped onto the floor.
Two lashes.
"Struggling will only make it worse for longer. You know this, TM–01," he said sweetly.
"…Apologies, sir," Taskmaster grit out.
"You're forgiven," the Handler said with a seemingly gentle smile. "You should know that we have a few hours with you, so I would urge you to make yourself comfortable."
Taskmaster always wondered how his mannerisms were so close to Lerato's, but just miss the details.
One lash, then another, and another, and another, and another. the sound of splitting skin and leather colliding with flesh became monotonous but didn't stop the pain from being registered in all of its intensity, it merely allowed the electrical impulses in her nerves to become a part of the rhythm. Taskmaster manually brought the cadence of her breathing to move in sync with the tempo of the lashes crashing upon her skin. it was a tried-and-true method to curb almost any outburst, learned from years of extra lashes brought on by such spasms.
"State your infraction, Taskmaster," the Handler said.
"Unauthorized… use of a protocol from… an unknown source to calm… БС свойство–01."
Another lash.
"Again," he said.
"Unauthorized… use of a protocol from… an unknown source to calm—"
Another lash.
"Unauthorized… use of a protocol from… an unknown source—"
Another lash.
"Unauthorized… use of a protocol—"
Another lash.
"Unauthorized—"
Another lash.
"State your infraction, Taskmaster," the Handler said. The lashes stopped.
"Unauthorized… use of a protocol from" —Taskmaster paused— "an unknown source to calm… БС свойство–01."
Taskmaster, deep in the fog of pain, was brutally dragged out of it by a small white-hot circle digging into her left deltoid. Taskmaster slammed her upper set of teeth onto her tongue to prevent any sound from escaping past her throat. That elicited a sharp smile from the Handler who was holding the burning cigarette to her flesh.
Another came soon after, about two inches from the first one. Taskmaster felt blood in her mouth. the Handler grabbed Taskmaster by the neck and squeezed just tight enough to cut off a bit of her airflow. she barely managed to stifle a choking sound.
he flashed a gentle smile. "Unfortunately, we have to go; some will get you in order soon."
He walked past her and the rest followed. The door closed behind them with a dull thud, and Taskmaster was left cuffed to the bars. Her mangled back shed blood and newly deceased skin while the cigarette burns angrily pulsed on her shoulder. She could feel every speck of dust that landed on the torn skin and very breath exacerbated the wounds.
A few minutes passed before the door opened again and footsteps approached Taskmaster; she could tell it was a Widow by the gait. They stopped right before her and popped open a bottle. Taskmaster heard the liquid pour out of the bottle and soon the felt it tear through her exposed flesh. she quietly growled in pain, but that didn't elicit a punishment. the agony only worsened when a rag, wet with the same fluid, began to rub horizontally across Taskmaster's back. the cloth dug deep into the cuts and pressed more of the alcohol into the intersecting lacerations. once the entirety of her back was wiped off, the person let the area dry. then a thick strip of gauze was wrapped around Taskmaster's torso. the Widow unlocked the cuffs and let the woman step backwards. the unknown Widow began to assist Taskmaster in putting her clothes and armor back on in a way that didn't disturb the bandages. she was led to the elevator and the Widow pressed the button for the fifty-seventh floor, maintenance.
the elevator stopped too soon, and Taskmaster stepped out. before her was narrow hallway colored a dark gray, but despite the dark color of the area, it was very well lit. multiple thick steel doors leading to small damp cells lined the hallways. Taskmaster forced her eyes not to linger on the doors, but there was nowhere else to look. she took a quiet and labored breath while she waited for the scientists. a few minutes later, Taskmaster heard two sets of footsteps approaching her and assumed it was them.
Taskmaster was proven right when two middle aged man entered her line of sight; the one on the left had blonde hair cut above his hair and the one next to him had black hair buzzed down to where one would think he was bald at a glance.
"haven't seen you in a while," the blonde scientist said with a smirk. he moved closer and whispered in the helmet's left audio receptor, "I hope you've been a good whore for the Soldier."
his right hand ghosted down Taskmaster's back armor plating: her left fingers twitched against her gloved palm. the blonde man was yanked away from Taskmaster a second later by his partner and was smacked upside the head.
"The General wanted this done as soon as possible," he grunted, "so keep it down until we get this done."
The blonde man scoffed and rolled his eyes; "fine."
he turned to Taskmaster and waved her over; "Come on, TM–01, let’s get you set up."
Taskmaster followed the two scientists as they led her down the long and winding hallway. they eventually stopped at thick steel door with a keypad. the scientist with the buzz cut pressed the keypad exactly seven times in rapid succession, but Taskmaster make sure not to look. she went inside and observed the room in its entirety. In the middle was a chair that completely made out of thick sharp metal. dense steel restraints were placed at the forearm and shin areas, and it was to be noted that the edges of the steel were not dulled. the chair had an elaborate piece of machinery attached to the top of it. the main part of the machine was its two long metal limbs that held rounded steel pieces at the ends. the plates were made to enclose most of a human head and on the inside of said plates, were several electrical nodes pointing outwards. Wires led out from the contraption to the various control panels that almost encircled the chair and the two generators connected to it.
The pair of scientists made their way to the control panel to the left and ordered Taskmaster to sit down on the chair; she complied with the ghost of what could be called hesitation.
Taskmaster felt the urge to thrash against the restraints snapping over her limbs but her entire body felt like it was stuffed full of lead. the blonde scientist came over and tapped the buttons necessary to remove Taskmaster's helmet. he grabbed both sides if the helm and lifted it off of her head. it felt wrong to have her head exposed for everyone to see and it caused her to be hyper-aware of her surroundings, especially the scientist in front of her.
He tucked the helmet into his right arm and leaned into Taskmaster's left ear. "You’re lucky the General wants you in cryo as soon as possible; you have no—"
"David! get over here!" the other scientist yelled, "you can do that another time."
the blonde sneered and mumbled, "fine," before walking back to his station.
a few seconds passed with nothing happening before Taskmaster saw the steel plates lower onto her face. The one to Taskmaster's left covered her forehead along with the rest of that side of her head, while the one to her right encased that entire half. Taskmaster began to take in more air when she heard electricity buzz all around her. she could see the electricity arc through the exposed nodes and the intensity only increased by the second.
Taskmaster wasn't fully prepared for the surge of energy overwhelming every nerve in her body; she never was. her entire nervous system was lit on fire and she thrashed so hard that the restraints holding her bent. Taskmaster gave into the compulsion to scream after just three minutes. the electricity pulsed through her cerebrum and found the middle of her brain where it etched itself into every neuron and destroyed synapses indiscriminately. the energy also spread all throughout her frontal lobe. Taskmaster lost control of all executive functions in her brain and all she could do was feel all of the pain etching itself into every fiber of her flesh, especially her back.
the electricity eventually stopped and the plates receded, allowing Taskmaster's head to fall forward. She couldn't move any part of her body, but rogue electrical impulses coursing through her nerves caused her fingers and other small appendages to twitch erratically. a hand cupped the front of her neck and lifted her head up. a set of wires were plugged into the chip. the program that hunted around Taskmaster's brain was nothing like the diagnostic code. it dug deep into her synapses and forcefully triggered every neuron that fit the code.
Taskmaster barely heard the sentence, "calming protocol 45678 is only to be used on БС свойство–01 with explicit permission from superiors."
the command kept on repeating in Taskmaster's brain, forcing new synapses to be created out of the hijacked neurons. the directive could be felt as it was added to the chip's store of information.
"Taskmaster," a voice called out and she slowly lifted her head to acknowledge it and found that the voice belonged to the scientist with the buzz cut. "What is the rule for calming protocol 45678?" he asked.
"Calming protocol 45678 is only to be used on БС свойство–01 with explicit permission from superiors," Taskmaster recited listlessly.
"Good," the scientist replied, "BW-65745-TMH-05 will come to collect you."
He retrieved Taskmaster's helmet, and once it was in his possession, he put it back on her head. The scientist then made his way to the door and was joined with his blonde partner a second later. Taskmaster more or less came back to reality an hour later, just before Lerato came into the room. the Widow, once she crossed the threshold of the room, bolted over to Taskmaster. Lerato undid the bindings and hoisted the taller woman's arm over her shoulder. the Widow led Taskmaster to an elevator and pressed the button for the twenty-eighth floor. the elevator ascended and then stopped when it reached his destination. Taskmaster and Lerato stepped out of the open elevator and the Widow helped the taller woman sit down on the only bench in the room. only now did Taskmaster notice the bruises and small cuts on Lerato's exposed skin and face. the most severe injury was a still-bleeding cut running across the left side of her forehead.
"The General ordered you to place in storage," Lerato said with a twinge of sadness and fatigue.
Taskmaster nodded shakily and began to undress her armor. her hands twitched against her armor as she undid the straps. it took a bit, even with Lerato's help, to get all of the armor off. when they were done, Taskmaster was left with the same shirt, pants, and boots. Lerato walked her back to the elevator and, once the doors closed, pressed the button that would take them to the seventh floor.
the lift stopped with a thud and the doors slid open to a rarely used hallway. the area was completely empty, which was most likely orchestrated beforehand. Lerato led Taskmaster to a secluded steel door on the left side of the hallway and opened it. She went inside and the Widow followed after, closing the door behind her.
Behind the door was a small room with a single cryo chamber and a control panel situated on the left side of the area. there was cryo-technician at the panel who looked up at the two with a neutral expression. he had blue eyes shielded by a pair of thick glasses and short brown hair which was slicked back to keep is his vision clear.
the man pushed a button, causing the chamber door to slide open. Taskmaster stepped into the chamber and turned to face Lerato. the cryo-technician strapped Taskmaster in at her waist, torso, legs, and arms. he made sure the bindings were secure with a few tugs and, once he was satisfied, went back to the control panel. the thick metal door soon closed and the temperature began to drop rapidly.
Taskmaster made eye contact with her Handler through the thick glass window. Lerato looked despondent and she moved closer to the chamber. she put her hand up to the glass and Taskmaster could do nothing but helplessly watch as her Handler waited for a response that would never come. Taskmaster found her mouth twitch downwards and something seemed to pierce her lungs, but there was no injury. it was a foreign kind of pain and Taskmaster wished nothing but for it to be over and for Lerato's face to return to its smile.
Frost crept along the interior and Taskmaster felt ice crystals form all over her body; her awareness dimmed with each passing second, but that didn't stop her from feeling the slightest bit of anxiety when she was put into cryosleep.
In her last moments of consciousness, Taskmaster made sure to commit every inch of Lerato's wistful face to memory.