verisimilitude
(n.)
the appearance of being true or real

•••

"This day lead to the hardest hours of my life. Hours that still send chills down my spine when I reminisce."

•••

The room was dark. It was an office of sorts. The window that held the view to the bustling, snow covered Capital of Russia was blocked by heavy, burgundy curtains. The majority of the room and it's contents were crafted from expensive wood. The kind you would see in the office of a King.

And that was precisely what it was. The cold, angry leader of the cold, angry country, sat arms crossed and an angry, expectant expression shown in his thick moustache. He was looking upon four people, two of which were trembling in their shoes.

"How did this happen?" was all the leader asked, standing up, so he could look down upon the men and single woman in front of him.

"We believe," she stopped, refraining from lashing out in anger. "We believe they are under the delusion that the Red Room," she said pointing to herself, "Hydra," she motioned to the man next to her: Arnim Zola, "and Russia," she then gestured to the leader himself, "are somehow damaging themselves and others."

"So, the two most dangerous assassins in the world have escaped together? Why would the Asset do that? Isn't he programmed against that? He is the most socially seclusive people I have ever observed," the premier said. He was truly a scary man. He did not say anything that would normally be considered harsh or evil, but somehow, everything he said seemed as so.

"We believe, sir, that they may have been growing close behind our backs. Their skills are far too great. I think there is no controlling them," Madame B told him.

He shook his head in a way that sent chills down the visitors' spines. "We absolutely must control them. They can just disappear like they are trying. Their abilities won't allow them that. Weapons like that in someone else's hands. With their knowledge of the workings of this government. With the knowledge of the whereabouts of America's golden boy. It could be detrimental. They must be found and the must be contained. I have called the four of you here today to find out how that is possible."

"Sir," one of them stepped in. It was Colonel Luchov. "If they don't want to be brought back in, we most likely will not be able to do so with our best man. They are our best men. Their sole rival is Captain America. And even even he is trained the way they are."

Dr. Zola was awkwardly trying to find a moment to interject himself into the conversation, but failed one try after another.

"Well, can I try and take them out? As in sniping?" asked the other man who had been called in. He was a tall, built military officer.

"We can't kill them," the premier said. "They are the last breed of Super Soldier. We need them, or we won't at all be more powerful than America. Let alone on the same level."

"Maybe we shouldn't have sterilized Romanova," Luchov said. "Their genes are mutated. We could have bred them and created an entire squad of enhanced individuals."

"Besides that," Madame B said, waving him off, "They can't be killed," she reminded. "They are highly train super assassins. They'd smell a sniper rifle within a hundred miles. They would feel the crosshairs like a prick on their backs."

"Well, what can we do?" the Colonel wondered aloud, drained of ideas.

"Well, first and foremost, we know they are lethal in a fight. But now we withhold they knowledge that around each other, they melt."

"Please gentlemen, Miss," the premier stopped the boisterous arguing. "I believe our friend, Dr. Zola would like to speak. I believe he may have a thought."

"Y-yes, sir, I do," he answered.

"We'll get on with it then," the Soviet leader egged.

"Y-yes. The asset—the Winter Soldier. He is programmed."

"Programmed? Like a computer?" asked the military officer.

"No, not like a computer," the premier said. "He's brainwashed. Beaten."

"I am afraid not, Premier. He is programmed precisely like a computer. Yes, he has been brainwashed and beaten some, but his brain is basically... a computer," answered Zola. He had the rooms attention captured, which intimated him a bit, but he pushed through. "He has a reset program. One that we have not had to use yet. If you follow a few steps, the Winter Soldier will fall into a trance and be susceptible to any order the man who resets him has to give."

"So how do you reset him?" asked the military officer. "Is there a button?"

Zola laughed. "No, Mr. Atrov. There is no button. However, there is a series of words you can say that will lock him in the trance. Ten simple words I have devised that signify major points in his life as the Winter Soldier."

"So, all Atrov has to do is approach the Winter Soldier and say these ten trigger words and he can order him to bring the Black Widow in?"

The premier nodded in approval. "Sagacious. Absolutely brilliant."

"The trick however," Madame B inserted. "Is finding the two best spies on the planet."

The premier clapped his hands together with smile as false as the tooth fairy. "No trick. It will be easy. Atrov: I want them brought in by Christmas. You can find their files on the desk of my library. You all may go. We will end this one big shenanigan all in good time."

Natalia finished her last house she was to clean and collected her pay. For the past eight months, this is what James and Natalia had done. They did their day's work, then met in the square in order to do whatever they needed to do in the city, then they would go home.

It was boring, yes, but to James, it was certainly better than killing innocent people. Natalia honestly wished she could do something more fulfilling with her life. Over and over, they discussed going straight to the American government and spilling the beans. But in the end, who were they to trust? They knew after being a part of the top secret ward of Soviet Russia, they had plenty of Russian spies in America. James and Natalia didn't even know a fourth of it.

But today. Today was no different. It was late November. The days had only grown colder. The first snow had yet to fall here in London, but Natalia could see the accumulating clouds in the sky above. She wouldn't be surprised if it were to happen today.

Natalia noticed how everyone was bundled warmly in coats and gloves, when she herself was not cold quite yet. She wore a coat nevertheless. Her goal was to not stand out. Not walk around without a winter's coat during what the people of London consider to be cold weather.

She walked across the square, watching the decoration of the square Christmas tree transpire. It had now been almost four years since she and James had been brought together by twisted fate. She found a bench to park on, then pulled a book out of her bag.

Reading was something she had found since leaving her previous life to be quite enthralling. She had read before, of course. But she had never been subjected to the enjoyment of it. In the Red Room, she had been required to read and memorize all classic and popular literature in order to be the spy she is. Movies too. Games. All of it. In fact, she was actually brainwashed by Ivan with the film "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves". But she had never had the time, nor the mental capacity at the time to enjoy the words of she was reading.

At the moment, she was reading Macbeth by William Shakespeare. After discovering her sudden interest in reading, James surprised her with a single book with copies of all Shakespeare's finest plays. She was on her fourth one.

Natalia didn't have to look up to know that James was approaching from her behind. She continued to read and waited for him to sit down to acknowledge him. It was only a habit from all the spy work she had done.

"How was your day?" James asked, sitting next to her. Natalia closed her book and sighed.

"It was the same as most day. Cleaning houses, getting by," she said in a slightly melancholic tone. "How was yours?"

"Ah... yeah. Same as yours. I have to keep acting as weak as the rest of the men I'm working with, y'know? It's just tedious. But it's okay," he answered, a bit downhearted. "This part of my day will just always be the one I'd rather talk about."

Natalia laughed. "Who would you talk about it with. I'm the only one you know and vice versa."

"I know," he said, chuckling sheepishly. "It's just that— eve since my life's been out back together a bit, I still have this hole. I don't know what it is, but I just miss it. And in he most random moments, I'll get really down. I think it's the hole. The craziest things will remind me of something I don't even remember. I don't know though. I'm probably just crazy with brain damage from all the tampering they did with my mind."

Natalia put and arm around him shoulders and leaned on his left shoulder. "Maybe it's a best friend. Or your mother. A brother."

He sighed and leaned his head on Natalia's. "Do you know what today is, Nat?"

"November twenty-second. Tuesday."

"Don't you think this day has some importance?" he prodded.

"Not that I can think of," she answered with a suspicious smile.

"Not even just a little?" he asked again. "I just thought, as a 19 year old, your memory should be a bit better."

Natalia grinned, still laying her head on James's shoulder. "You want to insult my memory? Your going into uncharted ter— ohhh..." she realized, sitting up and looking at him in embarrassment.

"It's my birthday, right?" she asked shamefully.

He only laughed and said, "Yes, you hardheaded woman. Let's go celebrate."

She waved him off. "We're not celebrating my birthday until we can celebrate yours."

"Come on, hardhead," he said standing up and pulling her along. James brought her home and they dressed in their nicer of their two outfits and went out into the London night.

"I've been saving up enough to splurge a bit," James said sweetly, holding open to door to a nicer than most, yet still not top line restaurant.

Natalia blushed and smiled. "James," she whined. "This is too much."

"It's never too much for you," he reminded, placing a peck on her cheek. They checked in and ordered.

And to say the least: Natalia had never had a better birthday. They talked for hours. About up and down and side to side. They talked about anything that was on their mind. It seemed as though they had been there for hours.

And it was then, Natalia realized. "This is it, James. This is your fantasy. This was your wish."

He smiled in a way that his seemed content, yet nervous. He reached in his pocket and pulled out and small, long, rectangular box.

"I didn't get you a ring," he said. "I know how you don't like them. So I scrounged up enough for this."

He opened the box, broadcasting a green stone in an east-west marquis cut.* It rested on a silver chain and simply took Natalia's breath away.

"It's an emerald engagement stone, only I asked if it would be put on a chain," James said. "I looked over the rules of marriage here. If we get married at the church, no one has to know. It's safe."

Natalia smiled. "You want to get married? We'd have to leave. We've already been here to long."

It was possible. They needed to move anyway. As soon as they married, they would just disappear agian. No questions asked. The very idea of all this made Natalia stomach flutter in excitement.

James nodded. "We have been here too long. But we've also been posed as a married couple this entire time. Why not make it official? I'll never be as close to anyone as I am to you. No one will ever know me the way you know. This life that we share— we'll never find anyone else."

Natalia was going to say yes. This was one of the happiest moments of her life. The longer it gets since she's been with the Red Room and the more time like this she spends with James, the safer she feels. The freer she feels. Little did she know, it was all about to a change. This entire time she had spent was merely a verisimilitude. And she still didn't even know.

They were interrupted by a taller, built man who placed a polite hand on James's shoulder.

"Sir, may I have a word with you?"

*The necklace James gives Natalia is the one she is shown wearing in the majority of Captain America: Civil War when he begins to re-enter her life as Bucky Barnes.

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