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"Whoa..." Sam whistled. "Sounds fair. We're three against three as well."
"Don't get cocky, rookie," Natasha warned.
"I've fought the Winter Soldier; I still have a bullet hole in my waist. He can snap your neck before you blink."
Steve stared at the map, brows locked in a frown.
He looked at Fury, a flicker of doubt in his eyes.
"Director Fury, I don't understand."
"HYDRA hid inside S.H.I.E.L.D. for decades, built an empire right under your nose, and you never noticed."
"And now..." Steve jabbed at the detailed intel, "...you know their every move? Even a secret Base that can brainwash people?"
"The intel is too perfect—like someone fed it to you on purpose."
The room's atmosphere froze instantly.
Sam and Clint both turned to Fury.
The contrast was indeed too stark.
Fury stayed silent for two seconds.
He removed his sunglasses; a complicated glint flashed in his one good eye.
"I have my channels, Captain."
"While HYDRA thought they owned everything, I planted my own nails."
"This World isn't the only one that knows infiltration."
"Don't ask where the intel comes from." Fury rapped the table.
"We move now."
Steve stayed quiet for a few seconds, then spoke.
"Alright, Fury. Hope your intel is solid."
"Relax, Captain." Fury straightened his coat collar. "Good luck."
…Half an hour later.
A black SUV sped along the highway toward New York's suburbs.
Natasha was at the wheel, racing while watching Steve through the rear-view mirror.
Steve sat in the back with an old flip-phone, dialing.
"Who're you calling?" Natasha asked.
"If it's that blond egomaniac, put it on speaker—I'd love to hear him roast Fury."
"Not Anthony."
Steve waited for the ringtone.
"Beep—"
"Hello? Captain?" Ashley sounded surprised.
"At this hour you should be enjoying a rare vacation."
"Vacation's over, Ashley. I've got an op."
"An operation?" Ashley's tone sharpened.
"Official… or private?"
"Private, but I need it official." Steve glanced at the trees whipping past.
"A few friends and I are heading to the Erie Hydropower Station north of New York. HYDRA's grabbed some Security Council members."
"My god…" Ashley gasped.
"That's huge! I'll inform Mr. Homelander; he just got back from Paris and is in a great mood."
"Thanks, Ashley." Steve hesitated. "I do need backup… I've got a bad feeling."
"A bad feeling?"
"This isn't just HYDRA." Steve's eyes dimmed for a second.
"There might be… an old friend. I want to handle it personally; keep Anthony out if possible. You know his temper—I don't want to piece my friends back together."
"Got it." Ashley, ever astute, caught his drift. "So you want a little reunion?"
"Call it what you like."
"Roger that, Captain. If you ask, we'll give you the grandest stage."
"Thanks."
He hung up and exhaled in relief.
Sam twisted from the passenger seat, incredulous: "Captain, did you just call Vought? Turning this into a commercial op?"
"Times change, Sam." Steve pocketed the phone. "Sometimes spotlight protects better than a shield."
"Never thought I'd hear 'times change' from Captain America…" Natasha quipped.
"Vought's got my attention now."
…Erie Hydropower Station.
A Cold-War colossus hidden deep in dense forest.
A gray concrete dam, like a tombstone, choked the rushing river.
"Looks quiet."
Natasha studied the entrance through binoculars. "Only four sentries, slow rotation. Doesn't scream high-value hostages."
"I've got a bad feeling." Steve tightened the shield's strap.
"Pierce let Fury find this place—he must've prepared a welcome."
"Whatever the ceremony." Sam deployed his mechanical wings, "just more butts to kick."
"Move."
The trio ghosted in.
Perimeter clearance went eerily smooth.
Though well-equipped, the guards never even sounded an alarm before the Avengers dropped them.
Natasha zapped one with her Widow's Bite and dragged him into the bushes.
They pushed to the core: an underground reservoir refitted into a makeshift prison.
Four suited councilors were tied to chairs, gagged, eyes wide in terror.
"There." Sam pointed below.
"Wait."
Steve threw out an arm, stopping Sam mid-dive.
His gaze bored into the shadows.
"Come out," Steve called. "I know you're there."
Silence held for three seconds.
"Clack, clack, clack."
Heavy footfalls echoed from the dark.
Three figures.
The first wore that iconic half-mask, left arm glinting silver.
Winter Soldier—Bucky Barnes.
Behind him, two equally hulking men with the same hollow, icy stare.
No metal arms, but the same killing aura as Bucky.
Steve's heart pounded at the sight of the steel-armed soldier.
"Bucky?" he tried.
The Winter Soldier didn't react; he simply raised a semi-auto pistol at his former friend.
"Now what?" Sam asked.
"What else?" Steve lifted his shield, eyes hard.
"Head-on."
"Go!!"
Boom—!
All three Winter Soldiers attacked at once.
"I'll take Bucky!"
Steve roared and charged.
Shield met metal arm in a deafening clang.
Sam deployed his wings and lifted off. "I'll grab the hostages!"
But just as he took flight—
one of the unknown Super-Soldiers leapt an incredible ten meters, reaching Sam's altitude.
"What?!" Sam yanked himself sideways.
The soldier caught his ankle, swung, and mounted him.
He grabbed Falcon's wing, ready to rip the flight-pack's balance system apart.
"Warning! Left wing damaged! Warning!"
Sam lost balance but rolled mid-air, trying to shake the assailant.
The soldier jammed a dagger straight into the jet turbine of the flight-pack.
"Boom!!"
The engine exploded.
Black smoke billowed.
Sam crashed and skidded ten-plus meters into a corner, backpack wrecked.