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VALOR
v. MANHUNT

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  RILEY DIDN'T SLEEP MUCH. She never could fall asleep most nights in the first place, and when she did, it was filled with terrible dreams. Nightmares consumed her during humanity's most peaceful hours of the day every single night. She wished she could control it, but after all the trauma she'd endured thus far, Riley figured that nightmares were just the cost of living in her world.

  Nevertheless, there was something about long drives that always lulled Riley to sleep. She hardly ever had to sit through long drives since she was always flying somewhere in a helicarrier. It relaxing to her—staring out the window, watching the world blur together in a stream of colors. She'd count the clouds in the sky like they were flying sheep until she drifted off to sleep. That always did the trick for her.

  Sitting in the driver's seat of a truck they'd stolen, Steve gripped the steering wheel in his hands firmly. They were on their way to Wheaton, New Jersey to discover what was on that damned flash drive. Steve was eager to learn more about it, though his thoughts were busy with worry. Natasha could sense that he was trying to ignore it.

  From the passenger's seat, Natasha glanced toward the backseat where Riley slept. She hummed fondly. "I don't think I've ever seen her sleep so soundly."

  Steve peered up at Riley's reflection in the rearview mirror. "It's nice," he admitted. "She looks so peaceful, almost like a normal kid."

  "Yeah," Natasha agreed, "you'd never be able to tell how annoying she. She looks like an angel."

  Lightly chuckling, Steve insisted, "Oh, come on. I know how much you care about her." Natasha shot him a skeptical look, which caused him to add, "You two might bicker a lot, but you defend her more than anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D."

  Natasha leaned back into her seat. "Maybe."

  "What's it gonna take for you to admit you actually like the poor kid, hm?" he teased.

  "Maybe a million dollars," she mused. Quiet chuckles filled the car, careful to not awaken the 13-year-old. "No, if I'm being honest... Riley's great. She's family."

  She turned to Steve, who had been proudly smiling. "Was that so hard?" he taunted.

  Natasha just rolled her eyes. "Speaking of the brat, have you picked up on her crush on you, yet?"

  Steve nodded, his smile growing at the thought. He could tell how hard Riley had been trying to suppress her feelings—and failing miserably. It was nice to see that despite everything she'd been through, she could still experience normal things children experienced, such as crushes. It was refreshing.

  "Oh, yeah, it's adorable" Steve admitted. He paused. "She's a good kid, you know? Even if she spends way too much time with Stark. Man, we really gotta find her friends her age."

  Natasha hummed, amused. "Oh, trust me, I know," she returned proudly. "I basically raised her myself."

  "You say that like you didn't break my arm twice."

  The two glimpsed back at the Latina as a quiet yawn escaped her. She stretched her limbs. It seemed that Riley was finally awake for the first time in about three hours.

  "Are you guys talking shit about me without me? Because that's offensive," added Riley.

  Natasha and Steve just shook their heads at the young teenager. It seemed like Riley hadn't heard a thing regarding their conversation aside from the last part. Natasha was relieved.

  "I'll never understand your generation's sense of humor," confessed Steve, causing Riley to snicker.

  "Uh-huh, don't worry. I'll convert you soon enough, Brooklyn" she promised. "So, are we there, yet?"

  She glanced out the window to see that they had pulled up to an abandoned military base. CAMP LEHIGH was printed on one of the signs in faded letters.

  Steve's entire demeanor shifted as he stared at the fences of the base. His smile faded, his gaze hardening. "Yeah. This is it," he announced. The trio stepped out of the stolen truck once Steve parked it.

  Natasha held up her phone, reading over the coordinates from the file she had decrypted. "The file came from these coordinates," she confirmed.

  "So did I," mumbled Steve, causing Riley's eyebrows to shoot upward in awe.

  The trio wandered throughout the abandoned military base for the next hour. They were in search of whatever had led them to the base, but it seemed hopeless. It was a ghost town. They searched for so long that they had even watched the sunset together.

  Riley couldn't focus on the mission at hand as they followed Natasha around the base. She was honored to be walking on the same grounds Steve Rogers once trained on.

  Meanwhile, Steve felt conflicted being back here after all these years. He thought he'd never see this place again. "This is the camp where I was trained," Steve mentioned to the two.

  "Change much?" called Natasha as she held up her phone, trying to track down the signal that brought them to New Jersey.

  "A little," mumbled Steve. There was a distant look in his azure eyes as he looked around, nostalgic. Riley couldn't even begin to imagine what he was feeling.

  Riley quickly decided she'd try and lighten up the mood. "Man, I'd kill to see you all scrawny and running laps around here," she joked.

  Steve almost didn't hear what she'd said, his mind taking him back to the '40s. But when he processed her words, Steve lightly scoffed. "You wouldn't be all that impressed," he revealed. "I had so much wrong with me: asthma, scarlet fever, rheumatic fever, high blood pressure, anxiety—"

  "Doesn't matter," Riley interrupted. "You were you. You were Captain America before the serum."

  Steve shrugged. "I guess."

  Riley sent him a pointed look. "I guess?" she repeated. "I don't know much about your life back then, but I've heard a lot over the years. They said that one time, you threw yourself onto a fake grenade to protect everyone on this base. That was before the serum." She shook her head. "You didn't need the serum and the muscles to be Captain America, just heart. You were a hero before all of that."

  Though Steve was touched, he couldn't help but reply, "Oh, I had heart, alright. Heart problems, to be exact." Riley rolled her eyes, laughing at his dark sense of humor. "You're right. Thanks, Manhattan. You know, you could use some of that advice for yourself."

  Riley didn't need to ask Steve to know what he meant. He had a point. Riley was so adamant about learning about how to become a true hero that she didn't realize she already knew little bits and pieces. Steve had helped her realize that: you don't need powers to be a hero. Riley didn't know it then, but that was something she'd remember for the rest of her life.

  Riley smiled at the little nicknames they'd given each other. It all started when they found out that they were both from New York. Steve started calling Riley "Manhattan" because that was where she was from, and Riley eventually started calling Steve "Brooklyn". She liked to think it was their thing.

  "This is a dead-end. Zero heat signature, zero waves, not even radio. The only waves I'm picking up are UV rays coming from Riley, but that's about it," formally announced Natasha as she walked back to Steve and Riley. "Whoever wrote the file must have used a router to throw people off." Their eyes fell on Steve as he seemed to have noticed something. "What is it?"

  Steve led the way toward another building. "Army regulations forbid storing ammunition within 500 yards of the barracks," he recalled. "This building is in the wrong place." Using his shield, Steve broke the lock in half and pulled the door open.

  Creeping down a short set of stairs that squeaked under their weight, Riley squinted through the darkness until Natasha managed to locate a light switch. One by one, dim lights illuminated the basement. On one of the walls was an outdated S.H.I.E.L.D. logo with dust collecting over it.

  As they strolled throughout the basement, Steve suggested that perhaps this was where S.H.I.E.L.D. first started. Chills brushed down Riley's arms by merely walking through the building. She wondered what went down in this building all those years ago. The trio stopped before a room containing old framed portraits of several workers.

  Riley stared at them curiously, only managing to know one by name. "There's Tony's asshole father," Riley pointed out casually. She recognized the portrait of the woman and the second man, but she couldn't recall their names.

  Steve frowned. "Howard."

  The two girls noticed how Steve's gaze was stuck to the portrait of the woman. 'Pretty,' Riley thought to herself while Natasha wondered, "Who's the girl?"

  Steve didn't respond. Instead, he walked away from the portraits, hoping to distract himself from the memories of his first love, Peggy Carter. The two followed Steve as he investigated the room. He paused when he arrived at a set of empty bookshelves. Dust and spiderwebs were beginning to collect on them. Riley flinched. She didn't like bugs.

  Steve studied the bookshelves curiously. "If you're already working in a secret office..." He walked forward and pushed the bookshelves. They slid open to reveal an elevator. "Why do you need to hide the elevator?"

  Riley's eyes widened. "A secret passage?" she mumbled to herself. "Hell, yeah." She ignored the stern glance Natasha sent her.

  They entered the elevator, where they descended one level before it opened up to a dark room. There were no light switches to turn on. All they had was Riley, who seemed to have been glowing with her own light without realizing it as she walked in front of them. Steve nor Natasha decided to comment on it.

  Once they trekked throughout the strange room for a few seconds, all of the lights in the room flickered on. One by one, they turned on until the fluorescents illuminated the focal point of the room: a desk with several archaic computers.

  "This can't be the data-point," Natasha mumbled, puzzled. "This technology is ancient."

  "Agreed. I don't get how the lights and stuff are still working. Who the hell's paying the electricity bill?" Riley queried while Natasha stuck the flash drive into a small port.

  The action activated the ancient computers in the room. The technology whirred to life, working in unison to resuscitate the engine. A camera sitting on the dock above the monitor twitched out of its slumber as the computer asked, "Initiate system?"

  Natasha shrugged. "Y-E-S spells yes," she mumbled, typing in the word on the keyboard. This caused the computer to power up some more. Natasha smirked to herself as she leaned over the keyboard. "Shall we play a game?" Riley snickered at the reference. Natasha glanced back at Steve, adding, "It's from a movie—"

  "I know, I saw it."

  Riley made a face as the computer monitor displayed something she couldn't quite identify at first. The pixels were green and distorted, but Riley was pretty sure she was looking at a face.

  "Rogers, Steven. Born, 1918," analyzed the computer. "Romanoff, Natalia Alianovna. Born, 1984. O'Dair, Riley. Born, 2001." As he spoke, the camera above seemed to be scanning the three heroes.

  "Uh, I don't like that," Riley grumbled to herself. She folded her arms across her chest, the white material of her suit stretching.

  "It's some kind of recording," Natasha observed.

  "I am not a recording, Fräulein. I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945, but I am," the computer snapped. On a smaller monitor beside the main one, an old image of a man appeared.

  Natasha glanced back at Steve. "You know this thing?"

  Steve looked baffled. He walked around the room and studied their surroundings while recalling, "Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He's been dead for years."

  "First correction, I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive," Dr. Zola reprimanded.

  Riley sneered, "Yeah, okay, Hitler Jr."

  Ignoring the 13-year-old, Dr. Zola continued, "In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body, but my mind, however, that was worth saving on 200,000 feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain."

  "How did you get here?" interrogated Steve while Riley cringed at the computer's word choice. Gross.

  "Invited."

  Natasha furrowed her eyebrows together, trying to remember everything she knew about this particular situation. "It was Operation Paperclip after World War II. S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited German scientists with strategic value," she recited.

  "They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own."

  "HYDRA died with the Red Skull," snapped Steve.

  "Cut off one head, two more shall take its place."

  Steve narrowed his eyes at the machine. "Prove it."

  "Accessing archive." A series of old videos and photographs flashed across the screens. Some were of Johann Schmidt, otherwise known as the Red Skull, others were of the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D. "HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew. A beautiful parasite inside S.H.I.E.L.D."

  Riley took a step backward. Her face contorted with disgust at the thought. "HYDRA's been inside of S.H.I.E.L.D. from the very beginning," she realized.

  "Precisely. For 70 years, HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed," Dr. Zola confirmed. Images of a man with a metal arm flashed across the screen.

  "That's impossible," denied Natasha. "S.H.I.E.L.D. would have stopped you."

  "Accidents will happen."

  Images of old news clippings of Howard and Maria Stark's deaths emerged on the screen. The news said it was a car accident, but HYDRA was the reason why they were dead. Riley felt sick just thinking about it. Everything she'd ever known... Was it all HYDRA all this time? Riley couldn't breathe.

  "HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security," continued Dr. Zola. "Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA's new world order will arise. We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your life; a zero-sum."

  Out of pure rage, Steve pulled back his fist and punched the computer monitor, shattering it instantly. The image of Arnim Zola vanished, only to return on another monitor. "As I was saying—"

  "What's on the flash drive?" Riley interrupted. She'd had enough of his little comments. She was filled with fury after discovering the truth about S.H.I.E.L.D. Had she really been working for HYDRA all this time?

  "Project Insight requires insight. So, I wrote an algorithm."

  Natasha stepped forward. "What kind of algorithm? What does it do?" she quizzed.

  "The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it."

  Almost as if on cue, the doors that brought them to the room slid shut. Steve flung his shield to keep the door lodged open; however, he was just milliseconds too late. It bounced back into his grasp as Natasha's phone began to loudly beep.

  "Guys, we got a bogey," Natasha announced. "Short-range, ballistic. We've got 30 seconds tops."

  Riley's heart sunk into her chest as Steve demanded, "Who fired it?"

  "S.H.I.E.L.D.," unveiled Natasha. They were being set-up.

  "Not S.H.I.E.L.D.," Riley cut in. "It's HYDRA. It's been them this whole time."

  "I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain," confessed Dr. Zola. As he spoke, Natasha ripped the flash drive out of the port and Steve located a small opening on the floor. "Admit it, it's better this way. We're both out of time."

  Riley, Steve, and Natasha all threw themselves into the opening just as the missile collided with the building. The youngest raised a forcefield around them while Steve used his shield to protect them at the same time.

  Riley felt her throat close up, eyes widening at the sound of the explosion. Fire encased their surroundings, smoke draping over them in hopes of trapping them there forever. A ringing squealed in their ears as Riley tried to remain calm. The debris seemed to be burying them alive. Boom, boom, boom.

  Soon enough, the building fully collapsed on the trio of heroes. Natasha was knocked unconscious, but luckily, Steve and Riley were still awake. Riley shook her head, wiping away the tears that were freely spilling from her eyes. The tears mixed with the soot that was caked on her face.

  Riley used her forcefield to push against the debris, thus freeing them from the hole they were trapped in. Then, Riley pushed herself out before Steve climbed through with Natasha in his arms. The youngest and oldest Avengers glanced over one another, making sure the other was okay.

  Before either one could speak a word, helicarriers soared over their heads with spotlights scanning the remains of the building. Riley quickly turned invisible while Steve ducked under some rubble. Neither needed to speak to know that they needed to get out of there.

  And while the trio escaped with their lives, they were in too much of a hurry to cover their tracks. As the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents arrived on the scene of destruction to search for the supposedly dead Avengers, footprints in the dust were all that remained.

  The three Avengers were still alive, and the manhunt lived on.

○ ○ ○

  Riley O'Dair had been through hell in the past 48 hours: Fury's death, getting jumped by the so-called Winter Soldier, HYDRA threatening her, becoming a S.H.I.E.L.D. fugitive, and nearly dying too many times for comfort. But the one thing that she seemed to be stuck on was the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been infiltrated by HYDRA from the very beginning.

  She felt betrayed, lied to. She felt like she couldn't trust anyone anymore, not even herself. All of these years, Riley was convinced she was on the right side of justice. She was so sure she'd been working with the right people and doing the right thing for humanity and society as a whole. Now that she was realizing that she'd been working alongside HYDRA agents all of her life and being trained by them, Riley felt like she'd just been punched in the face.

  Riley thought about her coworkers—the ones she spoke to and trained alongside. She thought about the fallen, like Phil Coulson. It pained Riley to think that they'd never discover the full truth about S.H.I.E.L.D. Most of all, Riley thought about her parents. Did they know who they were working for when they died? What if they did? Or, what if they were some of the few agents fighting against HYDRA, just like Fury? Guilt crept up on Riley like the flu.

  When Riley was dragged along by Steve to crash at a friend's home, she wanted to complain. She wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep for the next six months. She wanted to cry and scream for eternity. But she was too drained to do anything other than comply. They didn't have any other choice anyway.

  Steve's alleged friend was a veteran named Sam Wilson. He served under for two tours, but now, he spent his days working at the VA. Riley didn't know what to think of him when they arrived at his doorstep the following morning after nearly getting blown up by HYDRA, but when he welcomed them with open arms, Riley decided that he was alright.

  Steve didn't have to convince Riley for very long that she could trust Sam to protect her identity. Honestly, she was so exhausted after what happened that maintaining her invisibility any longer sounded like hell. The second Sam let them into his home, Riley let her guard down and forced herself to trust him. Sam didn't let it show, but when he realized that the valiant Valor really was a young girl, he was beyond shocked.

  Riley stood in the bathroom at Sam's place, cleaning her up. Her suit had been stripped, leaving Riley in a black tank-top, a dirtied pair of cargo pants, and combat boots. Every time Riley shut her eyes, the explosion seemed to replay itself on repeat in her head. Her hands shook vigorously as she scrubbed the dirt and soot off of her face.

  A gentle knocking on the door pulled Riley's attention, almost as though she was a rag-doll. Riley whipped her head to the side where the door had already been open. Steve leaned against the frame with a concerned look on his face.

  "Hey," Steve softly greeted. "Just checking in on you. How are you feeling?"

  Riley swallowed her spit and forced a smile. "Fine."

  But Steve didn't seem all that convinced. "You sure?"

  "Uh-huh."

  Steve paused, eyes narrowed at her. Steve had known Riley long enough by now to know how much she hated showing her emotions. She hated it even more when people pointed out her feelings. She despised feeling vulnerable and weak, but Steve couldn't just stand there and pretend everything was fine. It wasn't in his nature. He cared about people too much to do that.

  "Is that why you're crying?" gently queried Steve.

  Riley's brown eyes widened, revealing just how blood-shot they were. Though her hands were still wet, she wiped away her tears and sniffled quietly. "I'm not," Riley lamely lied. She twisted off the faucet rather aggressively, gripping the handle tightly. "I just..." She faltered. "It's... I..."

  "Do you wanna talk about it?"

  Riley froze. That certainly wasn't what she'd been expecting. In all of her years of training, she'd never been asked such a simple question. It was always: walk it off, you're fine, stop being dramatic. Not, let's talk about your feelings and hug.

  Riley hesitated. "I'm fine," she insisted, though it was clear she wasn't. If she was, maybe her hands would stop shaking so much. "I'm just... tired."

  Steve frowned. "You and I both know that's bullshit," he replied. He paused. "I don't care that you want to seem strong, indestructible. Heroes can have feelings, too. You're allowed to be upset."

  Riley's grimace fell as his words echoed in her head. You're allowed to be upset. Was it really that easy? She was so used to pushing everything away, never showing any negative emotion unless it could help her in her training. She was trained to be cold, emotionless, ruthless. But those few words hit Riley like a ton of bricks.

  She looked away from Steve. "It's just..." Riley wanted to talk to Steve. She really did. She wanted to find the words, but she couldn't. "I... I don't know how to... word it. I don't really do this kinda thing."

  Steve offered her a tender smile. He was trying to show Riley that he was there for her. "That's okay," he assured. "No one's pushing you but yourself."

  Riley furrowed her eyebrows together. Was that true? Because, to Riley, it sounded true. The only person who was her harshest critic was herself.

  Riley turned, leaning against the counter with her arms folded. "It's HYDRA," she mumbled, still sniffling quietly. "I can't stop thinking about it. I mean... All this time, I thought I was so lucky that I ended up working for S.H.I.E.L.D. instead of some evil organization. But... Now, I can't even tell if I should be trusting myself anymore. Does that... Does that make any sense?"

  Steve nodded. "It does," he assured. "I don't think you should be looking at it like that. Just because you were working with the enemy doesn't make you the bad guy. You were lied to. If anything, that just means you're more qualified to take them down." Riley raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he was insinuating. This caused Steve to continue, "You know the enemy like the back of your hand now."

  "Yeah, and they know everything about me," mumbled Riley. "My powers, my fighting style, all of it."

  "But you know them, too," insisted Steve. "Think about it: you've worked with them from the inside. Use that to your advantage."

  Riley fell silent, nodding slowly. "Yeah... You're right." She wiped her tears, suddenly feeling drained after crying for so long. "I don't usually, um, cry like this when I'm upset. I swear." She forced a small smile. "It's just the, uh, PTSD. I don't... do well with explosions. They've kinda followed me my whole life."

  Steve tried to maintain a neutral facial expression despite his surprise. He had never even thought about Riley having PTSD at her age. "I can imagine," Steve admitted. "Would you believe me if I said it gets easier?"

  Riley scoffed. "Absolutely not."

  Steve lightly chuckled at her reaction. "Good. I'd be lying," he revealed, feeling satisfaction when he saw the 13-year-old smile at his response. "It doesn't get easier, but you become stronger from it. The people you surround yourself with help in different ways." He paused. "Don't push them away just because you don't want them to see you when you're vulnerable. You'll end up feeling more alone than before."

  It was always strange to Riley whenever someone would say all of the right things to her. It hardly ever happened, but when it did, she felt enlightened, stronger, understood.

  'I think the people you surround yourself with, the people you can be yourself with, are the people that matter the most.'

  'Like a village?'

  'Sure. Like a village.'

  Riley offered Steve a small smile. "Thanks, Steve," she mentioned gratefully. "I don't really... open up to people like that, but... that was nice."

  He nodded. "I can tell," he admitted. "You want a hug?" Riley's eyebrows shot upward, bewildered at the question. Steve shrugged. "You look like you could use one."

  Riley was in a state of shock. Honestly, she never got hugs. She wasn't even sure if she'd actually had one of those before. The idea seemed so foreign to her.

  No matter how hard Riley tried to fight it, she couldn't help but think that his offer was just too tempting to pass up. So, rather reluctantly, Riley stalked forward and accepted Steve's embrace, but not before grumbling, "If you tell anyone about this, I'll kick your ass."

  Steve just laughed.

  By the time they pulled away, Natasha was standing by the doorway, too. The redhead seemed to have been collecting her thoughts, processing everything at her own speed. Natasha glanced between the two. It seemed like she knew everything she'd missed just by standing there.

  "You give everyone the same pep-talks?" greeted Natasha, her eyes on Steve. It seemed like he had just given Natasha a motivational speech of his own before moving onto Riley. "And here I was thinking I was special."

  Riley scoffed. "Yeah, right," she retorted, already feeling a little bit better. "We all know Steve just recycles all of his dumb motivational talks."

  The trio lightly chuckled as Sam Wilson joined them. "I made breakfast," he announced. "If you guys... eat that sort of thing."

  Riley snickered at the side-comment, following quietly as the heroes joined Sam in the kitchen for breakfast. They sat around and began to plan their next move.

  Natasha eyed Riley. "Come here," she instructed. "You look like a mess." She patted the chair in front of her, causing Riley to reluctantly sit in it. Without hesitating, Natasha began to braid the girl's hair. This was her way of reminding Riley that she truly did care about her, even if she was just as awful at communicating her feelings as the teenager. As Natasha worked on Riley's hair, she queried, "So, the question is: who in S.H.I.E.L.D. could launch a domestic missile strike?"

  Riley and Steve seemed to have the same idea. "Pierce," they both answered in unison.

  Riley frowned at the thought of him. "When I was in questioning, he made up this whole theory about how Fury was the one we shouldn't be trusting," she reminisced. "It feels too orchestrated for it to be true."

  "Plus, Pierce is the one sitting on top of the most secure building in the world," Natasha recalled.

  "But he's not working alone," Steve pointed out. "Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star."

  "So was Jasper Sitwell," Natasha realized.

  Riley raised an eyebrow. All of the coincidences were beginning to make so much more sense now. "So, the real question is: how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. officer in broad daylight?" wondered Steve.

  "The answer is: you don't," Sam Wilson answered. He walked forward and dropped a file in front of Steve on the table.

  The Avengers looked closely at it as Natasha finished French-braiding Riley's hair. "What's this?" inquired Steve.

  "Call is a resume," insisted Sam. The dark-skinned man folded his arms over his chest, a newfound look of determination in his eyes that reminded Riley of Steve.

  Riley glanced back at the files as the three stood around to overlook them. Natasha picked up the photograph sitting on top. It was Sam standing next to his pararescue team. "Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you?" Natasha queried, causing Sam to nod. She glanced back at Steve. "You didn't say he was a pararescue."

  Riley picked up a file within the stack, curiosity striking her. The file was a short mission report for the death of someone named Riley Robertson—a pararescueman working with the 58th rescue squadron alongside Sam Wilson until he was killed by an RPG. Steve nodded toward the image in Natasha's hands and wondered, "Is this Riley?"

  Sam nodded in confirmation, reminiscent of his fallen wingman. Riley hummed. "Cool name," she attempted to joke. She cleared her throat, biting into her toast as she wondered, "Hey, I heard you guys couldn't bring in choppers on the Khalid Khandil mission. Something about the RPGs, right? What'd you use? A stealth chute?"

  "No," Sam denied. He handed Steve another file. On it was the words CLASSIFIED: PROJECT FALCON. "These."

  Riley's jaw dropped at the images she was seeing. According to the files, Sam used to wear robotic wings to fly around on pararescue missions. Steve glanced back at Sam. "I thought you said you were a pilot?" he wondered.

  A small smirk tugged on Sam's mouth as he proudly replied, "I never said pilot."

  Steve hummed at his response, but his smile soon faded. He shook his head. "I can't ask you to do this, Sam," he admitted. "You got out for a good reason."

  Sam scoffed. "Dude, Captain America needs my help. There's no better reason to get back in." Riley nodded, mostly just eager to see his robot wings in person.

  Steve just nodded. "Alright. Where can we get our hands on one of these things?"

  "The last one is at Fort Meade, behind three guarded gates and a 12-inch steel wall," informed Sam. Steve glanced back at Natasha, who seemed to shrug. That didn't seem too bad.

  Steve peered back at Sam. "Shouldn't be a problem," he lightly admitted.

  Riley cleared her throat. "Uh, guys?" the 13-year-old chimed in with an enthusiastic smile on her face. "I know Cap, over here's our leader and all, but... I have an idea."