Chapter Text
The first thing it sees when it wakes up is the horrible, obnoxiously bright, fluorescent lights. Then, the usual of the banging on it’s door, being shoved into the hallway, and being lead to the room. The room that strips away any memories it’s made in the short amount of time it’s been…back, and turned back into the mindless killing machine hydra made it to be.
It gets told the gist of the mission on the way to the room, ‘kill the target’, another shady rich man, nothing new, ‘report back within three days’, longer time than needed, really, and finally, ‘Do. Not. Fail.’ Same old, same old. Honestly, it doesn’t even know why they bother telling it ‘not to fail’, since it’s literally their best soldier weapon.
It wakes up in a plane as it’s landing, gets shown a picture of the target, and arms itself. The target’s location is around ten miles from where they landed, so it gets to running.
When it finds the stupidly big mansion, it climbs a tree with enough foliage to hide in and uses binoculars to scope out the area.
Two guards at the main entrance, around 1000 people—‘rich people and their parties’ it thinks ‘how do they even know this many people?’—, and minimal surveillance cameras. When it finally spots the target, he’s right in the middle of the room, holding the hand of a…kid. A kid that looks too much like him to not be his daughter, she doesn’t even look five yet.
It has no qualms against killing people, but when it comes to parents, it begins to hesitate. Especially when their kid looks so…joyful. The branch it’s hold snaps from the tightness of it’s grip, it drops it and shakes it’s head. ‘I can’t hesitate’ it grits it’s teeth ‘I can’t hesitate when his death is inevitable. There’s nothing I can do.’ It sighs and grabs a new branch to balance itself.
It decides to disguise itself as a butler, poison his champagne, and frame his wife. It’s twisted, yes, but this whole ordeal is, so, same difference. It hops off it’s tree, sneaks in through an open window, and finds the staff closet. Once it’s in uniform, it walks out with a polite smile and a relaxed demeanor.
It takes a tray of champagne, finds an unsurveilled corner, and drops a potent toxin into both of the glasses—it’s the most mercy the boy can give—, and approaches the man’s wife, careful to avoid any and all cameras.
It acts frantic and stressed “Miss, I’m so sorry, but can you just take this tray? I know, it’s impertinent to ask you, but I’m needed basically everywhere and I really just don’t have the time! If it saves you effort, you can just take it to your husband and help yourself. Im so, so sorry!”
The lady takes it, the kind soul that she is, pitying such a stressed servant. She approaches her husband with a loving smile and offers a glass to him, taking her own swig of the drink.
It watches with a frown as they slowly become more and more ill. When they finally drop, their poor daughter lets out a petrified shriek and cries out for her parents.
The girl sounds too much like him it when it was younger. When it’s parent’s plane had crashed and it sat in the debris with it’s parents bloodied corpses, begging it’s parents to wake up—to be okay. Wait, what? The surge of a forgotten memory and sight of the scene makes it feel horribly sick.
The ambulance gets called and it leaves as all the guests do, blending in with the fearful crowd. It waits near the mansion until the police come to the conclusion of the targets wife being unhappy, making a plan to kill him, herself, and her child. They think she changed her mind about killing her child, being unable to bring herself to do it, and decides to kill her husband and herself.
it sighs in relief as it runs back to the plane, being glad it wasn’t caught. When the plane comes into sight, it wipes all emotion from its face and walks with confidence. It debriefs it’s mission once it’s boarded and gets back on it’s seat. Waiting for the sedative to kick in.
When it finally awakens, it’s body feels weak. ‘They really need to lay off of those sedatives’ it thinks, ‘using them this much can’t be good for the body.’
With great effort, it sits up. Staring at the wall ahead of it, it supposes now is as good a time as any to start planning it’s escape.
See, the thing about HYDRA is that for such a big(?) organization, they aren’t very meticulous. Sure, they have basic security like cameras and guards, but ever since the Avengers started taking down the main branches, they haven’t had the funds to invest in more security, and why have extensive security when you can just brainwash the people you don’t want out, right?
‘Wrong’ it thinks. Obviously it’s right as well, considering it’s quite literally actively planning it’s escape.
Plan A, the vents: Go through the vents. Slow, but silent. Slowly map out the vents over the span of a few days, and escape when the guards change shifts.
{Scrapped (mostly) too risky}
The vents may seem like the way to go, but it’s only ever been in the training room vents, which don’t connect anywhere. It’ll keep that idea in the back of it’s mind, though. Just in case.
Plan B, disguise itself: Take down a guard when they give it it’s food, steal their uniform, be on it’s merry way through the front doors.
{scrapped because, once again, way too risky.}
Guards switch within three minutes so if they look into the room and see their unconscious colleague, they’ll know what’s going on before it can escape.
Plan C, combine the plans: Of course, there will be stealth involved, but, just going through the halls, taking down HYDRA agents before they can sound the alarm or call for help is actually quite effective when trying to get out of somewhere.
{Definitely the one. Making stuff up as it goes will be a major factor as well, but whatever}
This idea may seem foolish, but it actually has quite the high success rate. Just tweak the plans a bit, (hiding the bodies in the vents rather than itself, kill guards in charge of surveillance, wipe records while it’s at it, stop by the gear room to load up on weapons and—duh—gear, destroy cameras as it goes) and it’s a pretty decent plan for a desperate ass kid who just wants out already.
’well, showtime!’ It thinks as it stands up and stretches it’s—back to normal—muscles.