226. Ideals of Icons. (Patreon)

Alexei Shostakov POV:

There is a moment, a teeny moment right before chaos becomes survival is when a man realizes that all his stories, all his lies, all his carefully constructed delusions… mean nothing.

That moment came when the gates opened and hell spilled out.

The Seventh Circle did not erupt more like it exploded. Bodies surged forward like a tidal wave of desperation, fists flying, elbows cracking ribs, boots stomping faces into frozen concrete. I was part of it, of course. I had to be. Survival wasn’t bought with dignity, it was bought with momentum.

“I will not rot here!!!” I roared, my voice swallowed by the avalanche of screaming men.

I drove my shoulder into a man twice my size, felt bones crack beneath impact, heard him choke as I shoved past. Someone tried to grab my collar and I broke his fingers. Another tried to trip me, I stomped his knee backward.

I had no hesitation, no guilt. There was just movement because I knew something they didn’t.

Parker Industries reevaluation is a polite phrase for a very impolite fate.

News still reached towards me and the prison never had a shortage of political prisoners who just a day before were people of significant importance. They talked about how Parker Industries filtered out truth, secrets and lies using brain picking machines. A system that's been secretly part of the American and EU Judicial system for years now.

Truth extraction used for judgment and if I was judged… I wouldn’t just die.

My name, my reputation, my everything will be over before I could say Blyat.

“Damn you, Captain Yankee!!!” I roared as I burst through the final gate, lungs burning, body drenched in sweat despite the Siberian cold as even though I was enhanced with a Super Soldier serum, this prison is no place to keep in shape or has the needed facilities to keep in shape.

The yard stretched before me. It's white, endless and unforgiving.

Snow crunched beneath my worn boots.

Freedom right in front of me or at least the illusion of it.

“How surprising?” I muttered in Russian, breath fogging the air.

Then, a voice talked inside my head. “Haul your fatass over the wall already.”

I froze mid-step.

“What...?!” I clawed at my ear and found nothing inside. “What trickery is this?!”

“Relax there, tubby. Psychic link. Parker’s psycho-tech.”

My heart skipped. “…Yelena?”

For a moment just a moment I felt something I hadn’t earned in years.

Relief.

“My sweet girl… is that you?”

Gunfire erupted and reality snapped back. I was really beginning to wonder how Captain America even got inside.

Bullets tore through the snow around me, kicking up white plumes caused by the collision of burning hot Lead and ice cold snow. I dove, rolled and scrambled forward like an animal.

“YELENA, DAUGHTER, HELP ME!!!” I yelled.

Her voice came back cold and edged with something far sharper than anger. “My, my… this reminds me of something.”

I stumbled, nearly slipping.

“Oh, I know. Late summer, 1995. Cuba.”

My chest suddenly felt tight.

“When Dreykov’s men dragged me and Natasha away.”

Another explosion rocked the yard.

“But I don’t find it in my heart to forgive you easily.”

I swallowed. “But I do want something from you.”

A rocket screamed past my head. I flinched, ducking instinctively. “So let’s make a deal.”

“Anything!!!” I shouted, scrambling toward the wall. “Anything, my Thunderbolt!!!”

“If you make it to the Prowler alive… I’ll ask Peter Parker to be lenient.”

I barked a desperate laugh. “Life imprisonment is worse than death!!!”

“Trust me,” she replied softly, “Parker can do worse than both.”

That… shut me up. “Fine!!! What is a Prowler?!”

“Look up.”

Another voice. I recognised it as Natasha's.

I looked up and for the first time in years I felt small.

The aircraft hung above me like a white god.

“блин…” I whispered. “I am dead.”

The guard towers opened fire towards the aircraft and bullets hit the invisible shield and died.

The machine didn’t even flinch and then launched missiles.

They streaked past the prison… into the mountains.

And a second later, the world answered. A deep, rolling rumble shook the concrete, I saw at the distance and saw the avalanche descending like the Winged Hussars.

“In five minutes…” I whispered, horror dawning.

The yard erupted again but this time in reverse. Prisoners and guards alike scrambled back toward the gates, abandoning freedom for survival.

Cowards, all of them including me.

I clawed my way up the wall, fingers numb, muscles screaming. Snow and ice made every grip treacherous. Twice I slipped and once I nearly fell.

“No… no, no, no...!” I slammed my hand into a crack, pulled myself up with a guttural scream. “I AM RED GUARDIAN!!!”

No response because no one cared. Finally, I reached the catwalk.

“PICK ME UP!!!” I roared. A rope ladder dropped which felt like salvation.

I grabbed it and the Prowler moved. “WHAT...?!”

It dragged me through the incoming avalanche.

The world turned white while I screamed as ice and debris slammed into me, my body bouncing like a ragdoll against the frozen ground but I held on.

Because I had always held on not to ideals, not to honor but to survival.

Eventually, I pulled myself inside. I collapsed on the steel floor while panting and every breath felt like proof that I'm alive.

I looked up and saw them, my daughters.

“My girls…” I said, forcing a smile. “Look at you! One Avenger, one...”

“Stop.” Natasha’s voice cut like a blade. “Just… stop. For the love of whatever heathen god of communism you worship.”

I blinked. “I am Orthodox Christian...”

“You are a disgrace to it.” Yelena said flatly and that stung.

“I did what I had to!” I snapped. “I sent you to the Red Room so you could be strong... be....”

Yelena laughed before I could finish but there was nothing funny about it.

“They ripped out my uterus!!!!” She yelled. “They cut out my fallopian tubes, my ovaries. My... future.”

My mouth opened then closed.

“Saving you…” her voice broke, “was a mistake.”

Natasha pulled her into a hug and I felt something that I didn't knew existed crack inside me.

We landed near a cottage. Snow fell gently around us.

Captain America turned to me.

And when he spoke, it felt like judgment.

“During the war,” he said, “I saw children with more courage than you.”

Each word landed heavier than the last.

“Alexei Andreovitch Shostakov… you are a disgrace.”

“No!” I snapped. “I did everything for my country! What would you do if your America asked you to do something you couldn’t stomach?!”

He didn’t hesitate. “I would remind it what the one nation beneath god truly stands for.”

His voice wasn’t loud but it somehow filled the entire world.

“I don’t fight for orders. I fight for ideals of liberty, equality and justice.”

Each word struck like a hammer.

“The moment my country forgets that… I stop following orders and become the symbol of American Ideals.”

“What about Parker?” I tried weakly. “His war...”

Captain America didn’t answer, Parker did with a look. A look that said I wasn’t worth the air required to respond.

“What about the children you helped steal?” Asked the Captain.

I had no answer. Yelena snorted as she walked ahead. “He makes you want to die for the US of A, doesn’t he?”

I said nothing.

Melina Vostokoff POV:

The pigs were doing well today.

“Left,” I murmured, adjusting the controls.

The small implant pulsed and the pig turned. “Good.”

A maze is a simple thing but control… Control was everything.

“Those are some very intelligent bacons. Does intelligence make their meat more tasty?” Asked a slightly muffled voice.

I froze. Slowly, I turned.

She was perched on my fence wearing white armor with a pink spider emblem engraved on her chest.

“Spider-Woman.” I said, trying my best to keep my voice level.

She dropped down. Suddenly her hand blurred and I felt pain before I could react.

Her fist hit me in the stomach like a truck. I hit the ground clutching my stomach, my vision swimming with pain and then I could hear the approaching thunderstorm.

“My…” I coughed, tasting blood. “Sending you and a god after me? I’m flattered.”

She didn’t smile, quip or banter.

She walked toward me. Each step deliberate and heavy. Deviation from predictable behaviour, now that's concerning... for me.

“My, what a big mouth you have.” She said coldly. “For someone who trafficked children.”

“I was born in the cage,” I rasped. “I only know the cage...”

Thunder cracked. The sky split and when I looked up to see that they were all there.

Watching me, judging me.

She stood over me and I understood that what was standing over me wasn’t a hero. She was something very very angry.

“You stayed in the cage,” she said. “But you also made sure no one else could ever leave it.”

Thor grabbed me by the throat and ifted me like I weighed nothing.

“What a fragile creature,” he boomed. “And yet… such evil.”

“Yoy can say that again, Point Break.” Iron Man muttered loudly.

I closed my eyes.

“How long till Peter comes here with Shostakov?” War Machine asked.

“Two minutes.” Spider-Woman replied.

I whispered under my breath. “Blyat.”

Because for all my intelligence, all my planning and all my illusion of control there was one thing I had never prepared for.

It's judgment and it was coming fast.