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Bobbi stood before Sunil Bakshi's office, staring at the door, her palms sweaty and her heart racing. He had summoned her without explanation or warning, leaving her to wonder if she had been compromised.
She wracked her brain for any mistakes or slip ups she might have made in the past few days but came up blank. She had been the perfect Hydra lap dog, following every order.
She pulled every trigger as instructed, even against her own people. From harsh interrogations to leading operations, breaking down any poor soul that Hydra suspected of being a traitor. All while keeping a close watch on Jemma Simmons and gathering as much intel as possible. The both of them had been sent in to sniff around. There were whispers and rumors about a genetically modified weapon under the project name, ‘Destroyer of Worlds’ being worked on at the Hydra Laboratories. So Simmons had joined as a scientist and Bobbi had worked her way up to the chief of security.
As a Shield operative Bobbi knew Hydras MO. Knew they were an authoritarian-subversive parliamentary terrorist organization hell bent on world domination. She knew their history and their involvement in WW2. It was in the Shield handbook, practically chapter 1. She had lost friends to them and fought like hell during the uprising. She knew what they were capable of.
But being on their side of the fence, seeing what went on behind closed doors? Being part of the inner workings of the system?
The work was filthy, and she despised it. Fighting Hydra head-on was one thing, but infiltrating their ranks? Even for the sake of intel gathering, she loathed it. The things she witnessed, the actions she had to take to maintain her cover, to climb the ranks, to prove her loyalty, each one made her sick to her stomach and chipped away at her soul.
But she knew it had to be done. Because if not her, then who?
That was her mantra that she repeated over and over in her head. Her justification for the pain she had to inflict and the lives she took.
If not her, then who.
She took a deep breath, straightened her uniform, and squared her shoulders, allowing a mask of fierce loyalty to settle on her face for the organization she detested most.
Then she knocked on the door twice to announce her presence.
"Come in," came the muffled voice of Bakshi. Bobbi entered, closing the door behind her, and took confident strides before coming to a stop at his desk. She took the space in as she stood at attention in front of his desk.
The office was a testament to Bakshi's need for dominance and status, she could read him like a book in that regard. The room was immaculate, with plush, dark carpet underfoot that absorbed sound, lending a hushed atmosphere to the space. The centerpiece was a grand, heavy-set mahogany desk, polished to a mirror finish, where Bakshi sat in a high-backed leather chair that looked more like a throne than an office seat. In contrast to that were two regularly sized chairs at the front of his desk.
Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the rightmost wall, filled with leather-bound volumes and various artifacts. A massive, intricate oriental rug covered part of the floor, adding a splash of color and an air of opulence. On the leftmost wall, expensive art pieces were carefully arranged, as well as a small bar cart, stocked with top-shelf liquors and crystal glasses. And behind the man was a large window offering a panoramic view of the city skyline.
Everything in the office had its place, each item meticulously chosen to convey power and control. Bobbi absentmindedly noted that the setting was designed to make visitors feel small and insignificant, a tactic to reinforce Bakshi's authority before he even uttered a word. It was pretentious and made her want to roll her eyes at him. She also wondered if he was trying to compensate for something…
She quickly pushed the thought away and got her mind back on track.
”You called for me sir” she said in a strong voice looking him in the eye, not betraying an ounce of the anxiety she felt building in the pit of her stomach. He leaned back in his chair as he gave her a long searching look.
“Please, take a seat,” he ordered, his gaze tracking her every movement as she obeyed and settled into the chair. For a long moment, he remained silent, scrutinizing her intently before casually flipping open the lone file resting on his desk, clearly indifferent to whether she saw it's contents or not.
“Agent Barbara Morse. Twenty-seven years old. You attended military school and graduated with exceptional marks before joining the army. Deployed to Iraq, you gave everything, only for the government to abandon you after you were captured and held hostage.” His voice dripped with a clinical detachment as he recited her cover story, one she had memorized so thoroughly that she could recount it in her sleep. “You managed to escape your captors, made your way back home, only to be rejected by the very people you fought for. That's when you turned to mercenary work. Made quite the name for yourself which is how Hydra discovered you. The rest is history. And look at you now.”
He trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he appraised her. Bobbi straightened her posture and slightly puffed her chest, attempting to project a sense of pride that she didn’t genuinely feel.
“You’ve been performing exceptionally well as our chief of security and have handled the extra assignments I've entrusted to you with skill. You follow orders and demonstrate a keen intellect. You’re not just another mindless pawn,” he added, a dangerous glimmer sparking in his eyes.
Bobbi fought to maintain a neutral expression, even as her mind raced. It didn't look like she was in trouble or any danger of her cover being blown which was a relief, but his unwavering gaze sent a shiver down her spine. She wasn’t afraid of him as a person. She could take him on with a hand tied behind her back. But she was keenly aware of the power he held within the organization which made his flattery very unsettling.
"Hydra needs more agents like you," Bakshi continued snapping her file shut. "People who can be trusted. I've seen how you deal with your subordinates, how you keep them in line and disciplined. You're an excellent combatant, and you have a firm hand on our staff." Bakshi tilted his head to the side as he studied her more intently. She was a bit taken aback by his speech, he was obviously building up to something, so she kept her mouth shut and waited for him to continue.
“Do you know what work we do here, agent Morse?” he asked, abruptly shifting the topic so quickly she almost blinked in surprise. Not knowing what his angle was she went with the obvious answer.
”Research, development and experimentation sir. I don't know any specifics, but it's not my job.” he gave her a satisfied smile.
“That's quite right. And that's what I like about you. You do your job and you do it well, no questions asked. Which is why I would like to change the description.” he leaned forwards as he rested his hands on table.
Bobbi's heart rate picked up. This was good. A potential in to see more of Hydras operations and inner workings. As head of security she had records of the scientists and Hydra operatives that worked in this specific branch. She could steer suspicion away from Simmons that way and keep Shield informed, but she had no real access to the scientific side of things.
They had been relying on Simmons for that, but the woman was struggling to make headway, and although Bobbi knew that Simmons was apparently an excellent scientist, the woman was too kind and soft to be an undercover operative.
Ruthlessness, infamy and respect in the form of fear was what got you promoted in an organization like this. And Simmons didn't seem to have a cruel bone in her body, which unfortunately made her stand out. Bobbi felt like she needed to frame the woman up on the wall just to keep her out of trouble. But this could be her chance to make progress and discover intel herself.
“What would you make of being a handler?” Bakshi interrupted her musings. This time Bobbi couldn't completely mask the surprise on her face as her brows twitched.
”A handler sir?” she asked with both genuine curiosity and weariness. Bakshi hummed as he opened a drawer and pulled out black file, dropping it with a resounding thud on his desk.
Even from her vantage point she could read the red ink reading ‘Destroyer of worlds’. She fought hard for control over her body, sitting perfectly still and not showing the whirl of anxiety and adrenaline at the name. This was what they had been looking for.
”Hydras been working on a special project for a few years now. After the success of the super soldiers, we explored different routes when the serum was destroyed and managed to get our hands on a powered person with spectacular abilities. The subject has been undergoing training for some time and we've put them in the field. They have yielded excellent results when… motivated correctly. The previous handler is being moved to a new post soon, and I was instructed on finding a replacement.”
Bobbi soaked the information up like a sponge carefully cataloging everything. This was the most she had gotten in the last 6 months. Important, critical information, which meant she really didn't have a choice in if she took this job, even if she wanted to. This was the kind of thing you agreed to, or got a bullet between the eyes because you knew too much. So instead she slowly nodded, causing Bakshi to give her an appraising nod as he stood up and handed her the file before walking over to the drinking cart.
“This contains basic information on the subject that you'll need as well as what's expected of you as a handler.” She listened to him as she flipped to the first page. It contained a bunch of information but her eyes were drawn to a picture on the top right corner and she felt her breath stutter.
She didn't know what she had expected but it wasn't this. This was just…wrong. The ‘subject’ as Bakshi had dubbed them was a young woman that couldn't be any older than 20. Practically still a kid. Her features hinted at Asian heritage, and her shoulder-length brown hair framed a face that looked far too worn for her age. She should have embodied youth, in college trying not to fall asleep in class, hanging out with friends, or even off partying.
Instead, her cheeks were hollow, and her skin bore a sickly gray pallor, stripped of any vibrancy. Frail arms folded around herself in an attempt to stay warm in what looked to be a cell. And her eyes… those chocolate brown eyes would haunt Bobbi in her sleep. They looked so afraid, so broken and devoid of anything that wasn't despair. A look she had only ever seen in veterans or long term Shield agents that had given up and retired early in a pursuit to silence the demons that breathed down their necks.
“Read through it, study it, make sure you memorize it and be ready.” Bakshi continued totally unaware of Bobbi's simmering anger and confusion at the child she was looking at. At what would soon become an obsessive feeling of protectiveness over the young girl. At the lengths Bobbi would go to get the kid out of Hydra's clutches and somewhere safe.
“Tomorrow morning at 6 you'll meet me in my office again and we'll get started. You'll meet the current handler and shadow him for a while as well as get more information. You no longer need to concern yourself with security issues. The real work starts now.” Bakshi poured himself some scotch into one of his crystal glasses.
“I have high expectations for you. Dismissed.”
“Yes sir ” Bobbi replied as she got up and made her way to the door with the file under her arm. Bakshi took a sip of his drink watching her go. When she reached the door and raised a slightly shaky hand to grasp onto the handle he spoke up one last time.
“And Agent Morse”
Bobbi froze in her place, and looked back over her shoulder.
“Hail Hydra” Bakshi said, raising his glass and tilting his head towards her.
She forced a smile, “Hail Hydra” she echoed as she walked out of the office with a sinking feeling in her gut.