Outside Washington, D.C., an abandoned car factory.
A "No Entry" sign hung on the rusty iron gate, surrounded by overgrown weeds. It looked as if the place had been deserted for decades. Steve, Coulson, and Hill pulled up outside in their cars.
"Are you sure this is the place?" Steve eyed the crumbling building. "Looks more like a homeless camp than a base."
"Trust me." Hill pushed open her door. "If the Director picked this spot, there's a reason."
They walked through the broken gate, following a weed-choked path to the main building. Inside, the factory was a wreck. The production line was long dead, and discarded car parts were strewn everywhere.
"Nick?" Steve called into the emptiness.
"Over here." Fury's voice echoed from a corner. He stepped out from behind a pile of scrap metal, holding a small remote control.
"Follow me." He pressed a button, and a section of the concrete floor slid open, revealing a staircase leading underground.
Coulson's eyes widened. "When did this get built?"
"Cold War era." Fury led the way down. "Back then, the government built bunkers like this all over the country, in case of a Soviet nuclear strike."
The underground chamber was far larger than expected, reinforced with thick concrete walls. Modern equipment was neatly arranged throughout. Most striking of all were the walls covered with weapons—everything from pistols to rocket launchers.
"Oh my God." Hill stepped closer to a rack. "This is an arsenal."
"This is my insurance policy." Fury switched on the lights, flooding the room with brightness.
Of course, he wasn't about to tell them he had hundreds of such stashes across the U.S.—that was where all those billions in "operational funds" really went.
"It only gets used when things are dire," Fury added.
Steve's eyes landed on something familiar sitting on a central table. "That's…"
"Your shield." Fury handed it to him, then produced a folded red, white, and blue uniform—Captain America's combat suit.
"I just 'happened' to grab this when I left headquarters," Fury said with his usual excuse.
Steve took the shield, running his hand over the smooth vibranium. Nearly seventy years had passed, but it was still flawless. His comrades, however, were long gone.
"Captain?" Coulson asked softly.
Steve shook it off, strapping the shield onto his back. "Nothing. Just memories."
He looked around at Fury, Coulson, and Hill. They were different from the brothers-in-arms he'd once had, but they were comrades all the same. He wasn't alone.
"Now," Fury said, sitting down. "Tell me everything you found in New Jersey. Is Zola really alive?"
For half an hour, they carefully described the events at the abandoned base. When they mentioned Zola admitting to Howard Stark's assassination, Fury's fists clenched tight.
"So Project Insight is Hydra's ultimate weapon," he muttered. "Three Helicarriers, Zola's algorithm, twenty million names on a kill list…"
"We have to stop them." Steve's voice was steady.
"No question." Fury moved toward the comms console. "But we'll need more people."
He pulled out an encrypted phone and dialed.
"Clint Barton, it's me."
Hawkeye's voice answered, cautious. "Director? I'm tracking a Soviet arms dealer in Ukraine. What's wrong?"
"Drop it. I need you in France. Find Natasha Romanoff."
"Black Widow?" Clint sounded startled. "She's our enemy."
"Not anymore," Fury said. "I need you to convince her to work with us."
"Are you sure? She's Red Room trained."
"Exactly why we need her. Tell her S.H.I.E.L.D. can protect her from the Red Room, but in exchange, she works for us."
Barton was quiet for a few seconds. "Sounds like recruiting an enemy. What aren't you telling me?"
"This is a new strategy," Fury lied smoothly. "Details when you're back. For now, just complete the mission."
"…Understood. How urgent?"
"As soon as possible. Bring her directly to me. Top priority."
"Got it, Director."
Fury hung up. "Barton won't fail. He's solid."
"Will that Russian agent really join us?" Coulson asked doubtfully. "Voss said so, but right now she's still our enemy."
"Voss's predictions have been right every time." Steve said firmly. "If he says Natasha will be our ally, I believe it."
Hill inspected the equipment. "Even with Hawkeye and Black Widow, we need more. Hydra's grip on S.H.I.E.L.D. runs deep."
"I've considered Stark," Fury admitted. "Tony's on Zola's list. He's got the resources we need."
Steve frowned. "Howard's son? Will he believe us?"
"Tony Stark is a genius," Fury said, "but also a wildcard. It's too soon. We'll wait until we have proof."
Coulson spoke up. "If Pierce is Hydra's leader, he's already pushing Insight forward."
"Exactly." Fury pointed at the map. "We have to stop the launch. Once those Helicarriers are airborne, it's over."
Steve tightened his grip on his shield. "What's the plan?"
"We infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D., get intel on Insight, then disable the launch systems."
Hill nodded. "I know Triskelion's security, but if Hydra runs the place, we'll have to be ghosts."
"That's where Natasha comes in," Fury said. "Her skills give us a chance."
Just then, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen—Pierce. His face hardened.
"Alexander. Burning the midnight oil?"
"Nick, where are you?" Pierce's voice was calm, but edged. "I've been looking for you."
"Handling personal matters. What's wrong?"
"Insight's timetable has moved up. The Helicarriers launch tomorrow afternoon. I need you to oversee the ceremony."
Fury met Steve's eyes. Tomorrow afternoon. Too soon.
"Tomorrow? That fast?" Fury acted surprised.
"Council pressure," Pierce said smoothly. "You know how politicians are."
"I'll be there."
"Good. By the way, I read Steve and Coulson's report. That writer, Voss—interesting fellow."
Fury's stomach dropped. "Oh? Something wrong?"
"Nothing major. Just feels like he knows too much. Maybe we should… look into him."
"I'll handle it," Fury forced out evenly.
"See you tomorrow, Nick."
The line went dead. Fury's face darkened. "They're going after Voss."
Steve shot up. "Then we need to warn him."
"Going to New York now is suicide," Hill countered. "And it may already be too late."
Fury stared at the phone. Voss had given them the intelligence they needed. Now he was a target because of it. If they went to him, they'd risk the entire operation.
"Voss isn't defenseless," Steve said after a pause. He thought of those bizarre but powerful companions. "He's got allies. He can protect himself."
"I hope you're right." Fury pocketed the phone. "For now, we prepare for tomorrow."
Coulson checked the gear. "One shot at this. That's it."
"Right." Fury armed himself with a pistol. "If we fail, Hydra wins."
The basement grew heavy with silence. Everyone knew what was coming. No one backed down.
Steve adjusted his combat suit and whispered to himself: Bucky, hold on. I'll find you.