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( CHAPTER THREE )
"AFTER THE CATASTROPHE AT THE TRISKELION IN WASHINGTON D.C., S.H.I.E.L.D., the extra-governmental military and intelligence agency that supposedly protected us for decades, has been dismantled and labeled as a terrorist organization. All classified files were put online and went viral, revealing HYDRA infiltration behind most activities."
Arden scoffed, throwing daggers in the direction of the radio in ill-concealed disdain at the words. She chewed at the inside of her cheek in thought. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s end and the revelation of HYDRA's intrusion were still fresh wounds; all of the mistrust and hatred that had been recently thrown at the organization, while comprehensible from an outsider's point of view, stung like hell for her.
It was a blow to her pride: she still believed S.H.I.E.L.D. had done more than anyone else to protect the world, to protect people from everything they could have not fought against. She couldn't help but feel betrayed by how quickly they were to peg the agency as the bad guy.
She was S.H.I.E.L.D., and she sure as hell wasn't one of the bad guys.
"War hero Captain America was rescued after—" The radio was suddenly shut off.
"Hey, I was listening to that! You don't get to turn off my radio while driving my truck!" She protested, eyes snapping quickly to the Soldier, whose right hand was falling back on the wheel.
They had been travelling only for a few hours, but Arden hadn't managed to placate that distinct, choking feeling of dread that made her stomach clench, of knowing that something bad was about to happen and there was no way to prevent it. Not even the unmovable form of the Soldier seemed to work its magic now.
Sunlight filtered through the clouds, casting distorted shadows on his face; it gave him a sinister look. He seemed to be trying hard to school his features into a blank expression, but Arden prided herself on being rather perceptive, and caught on quickly on the jerk of his jaw.
"Are you afraid he's gonna come back for you?" The Soldier blinked, his hands tightened their grasp on the wheel. So, America's sweetheart was a touchy subject. Arden leaned forward, interest piqued.
"I heard he was severely injured. Good thing they managed to fish him out of the Potomac in time. He could have died." She watched almost greedily his reaction: his eyes swerved once from right to left, but he kept his mouth obstinately shut. Barely holding a disappointed huff back, she decided to leave it, at least for now.
"Was it HYDRA, back at the motel? If they came so close, I don't think they would have let us go that easily without a fight."
"Were you expecting someone else?" He inquired, shooting her a sideways glance: the wind coming in from the passenger window made her hair fly around, black tendrils whipping at the air. This time she was the one who stayed silent, stubborn in her attempt not to give out anything just as he had.
