#johann schmidt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

swan-of-sunrise · 7 months

Text

Necessary Evils (Tales From The SSR)

Summary: As they await news of Michael Carter's surgery, (Y/N) and Jack discuss her unwanted connection to Arnim Zola and the feel of foreboding that the former Hydra doctor left in his wake.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Fem!Reader, Peggy Carter X Daniel Sousa, Edwin Jarvis X Ana Jarvis

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi there! This week's surprise one-shot is gonna explore a little of Specs' whereabouts in the aftermath of Bucky Barnes' death in The First Avenger and we're gonna have some great moments between her and Jack, so buckle up! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Necessary Evils January 1948 Los Angeles County Hospital, Los Angeles (Previous One-Shot)

“I got you some tea from the hospital’s cafeteria.” (Y/N) was pulled out of her silent reverie by Jack taking a seat beside her and offering her a disposable paper cup, the concerned gleam in her boyfriend’s blue eyes accompanied by the smallest of smiles for her benefit. “Earl Grey and two teaspoons of honey; I know how much it helps when you get one of your stress headaches.”

(Y/N), touched by his thoughtful gesture, reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She reached for the cup and after taking a long sip, she sat back in the uncomfortable waiting room chair with a frustrated sigh. “I hate this. The longer the surgery takes, the more I’d like to burst into that operating room and re-arrest that Nazi bastard before he tries anything funny with Michael.”

Beside her, Jack nodded as he patiently listened to her threats and threw Peggy – who was anxiously pacing across the hospital waiting room while Daniel unsuccessfully attempted to talk her into sitting down – a furtive glance before replying, “I don’t think this Zola guy would risk a lifetime imprisonment or execution by trying to bump off Carter mid-surgery, Specs. I mean, Stark and half a dozen MP’s are watchin’ him and the neurosurgeons like hawks as we speak, and he’s not gonna jeopardize the sweet deal the JIOA cut for him for something as low-stakes as this.”

“I wouldn’t call any of this ‘low-stakes,’ Flyboy,” (Y/N) murmured, looking around the fully-occupied waiting room and reflexively tightening her grip on her cup of tea; she, Jack, Peggy, Daniel, and the Jarvises, along with over a dozen uniformed SOE officers and SSR officials, were gathered at Los Angeles County Hospital for the long-awaited surgery that would theoretically restore Michael Carter’s mind to what it was before the brainwashing that Hydra subjected him to during the war. Several of the SOE officers served alongside Michael and had volunteered to travel from England to be with their fellow soldier in his time of need, but Peggy was understandably the most concerned of them all; Michael made his younger sister promise not to contact their parents about his staged death in 1941 and sudden reappearance until it was confirmed that the dangerous surgery was a success, wanting to prevent Harrison and Amanda Carter another heartbreak on the off-chance that Arnim Zola and the team of neurosurgeons failed and he passed away on the operating table. The Carter siblings spent several minutes alone with one another before they wheeled Michael into the operating room and since then, Peggy hadn’t been able to stay still. I’d be the same way if Freddie’s life were in the hands of that Nazi son of a bitch, (Y/N) thought to herself and one of her hands moved upwards to caress the locket containing her deceased brother’s photograph as she sympathetically watched Peggy continue to pace.

“You know what I mean.” Jack scooted closer to her side and when she finally looked over at him, the look of concern in his blue eyes was as prominent as ever. “Look, I get why Peggy’s taking all this personally…but I can’t figure why you are, too. You can talk to me, baby…” His hand moved to rest on her shoulder, and (Y/N) could feel the comforting warmth of his touch through the thin material of her blouse. “Whatever you’ve gotta say, I’m here. And if you don’t feel up to talkin’ just yet, then I’ll still be right here with you.”

(Y/N) lowered her gaze to her lap and spent several moments mustering the strength to speak, her voice wavering as she recalled some of the darkest moments of the war, the ones that she wished she could forget forever but sadly never could. “I helped capture Zola. I was deployed with the Howlies in the Swiss Alps, and we were tasked with finding and capturing Zola to interrogate him about Schmidt’s plans. Morita intercepted several radio transmissions from Hydra and after I decoded them, we had confirmation that Zola was on a train scheduled to travel through the same mountain pass that we were navigating. Steve, Bucky, Gabe and I used a zip chord to get onto the train while it was still in motion; Steve and Bucky left to secure the front train cars while Gabe and I stayed on the roof as their back-up, and that’s…that’s when…”

Her boyfriend rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together as he looked over at her. “That was the mission that Sergeant Barnes didn’t survive, wasn’t it?” She nodded, her eyes still diligently trained on the dark blue material of her trousers, but she could feel his compassionate gaze on her as he continued. “Barnes died a hero to his country. The bastard turned against Schmidt to save his own skin, and Cap and the SSR were able to end Hydra and the war. That’s gotta bring you and the rest of the Howling Commandos some satisfaction, right?”

“It did…” (Y/N) admitted, but she tightly pursed her lips as she recalled the aftermath of the fateful mission to capture Zola alive. “Right up until his interrogation, that is.”

The tunnels below the London headquarters of the Strategic Scientific Reserve echoed with the sound of (Y/N)’s standard-issue heels making contact with the stone floor as she approached one of many interrogation cells; her fingers tightly clutched the classified file in her hands in an effort to contain her swirling emotions but judging by the apprehensive expressions on the stationed MP’s faces whenever she passed by, she was doing a poor job of masking her true feelings.

“As requested, a copy of my mission report to D.C.,” (Y/N) announced as she came to a stop before Colonel Phillips, and she arched a brow at the tray of food he was holding. “Hungry?”

“Zola surrendered and didn’t try to do himself in with cyanide, so I figured that the usual interrogation techniques might not work on this wack-job. He should count himself lucky; I’ve got over a dozen SSR agents chomping at the bit to finally get their hands on a live Hydra operative.”

Just as Colonel Phillips balanced the tray on one hand to reach for the file, (Y/N) tightened her grip on it and blurted out, “Colonel, I need to go in there with you.”

“Agent (Y/L/N), you and the rest of the 107th tactical team have my condolences for Sergeant Barnes’ death, but I can’t allow you any access to-”

“Respectfully, Colonel, you’re the commanding officer of the Strategic Scientific Reserve; you can directly authorize an agent access to as many high-security prisoners as you deem necessary, correct? I’m only requesting access to one.”

“You don’t get to tell me how to do my job, Agent.” The sharp tone in the older man’s voice conflicted with the uncharacteristic compassion emanating from his dark brown gaze. “I’ll authorize you access to the observation room, but that’s it.”

(Y/N)’s jaw clenched as she forced herself to remain composed, but there was nothing she could do to keep her voice from trembling with barely-restrained grief. “Colonel, the man on the other side of that door is the reason my friend and God knows how many Allied soldiers are dead. I…I need to do all I can to ensure that he gives us all the intel we need to take Hydra down. I need to help end this war once and for all.”

In contrast with the strained working relationships he shared with Peggy and Howard, Colonel Chester Phillips seemed to have a soft spot for (Y/N) since the moment she was loaned out to the SSR from the OSS; Peggy often speculated that it was because she reminded him of his granddaughter back home and although she’d never admit it aloud, (Y/N) considered him to be the father-figure she’d always longed for. They got along with one another but more importantly, they shared a mutual respect and it was that respect that seemingly compelled the older man into finally giving her a relenting nod. With a brief command from Colonel Phillips, the MP stationed nearby opened the door and after taking a deep breath, (Y/N) followed the colonel into the interrogation cell.

A dim light from an overhead fixture illuminated the sparsely decorated cell, and the Swiss doctor whirled around to face them both as they sat down at the interrogation table; a surge of pleasure rippled through (Y/N) when she observed his colorless face and the way his hands anxiously fiddled with the sleeves of his prisoner’s uniform, and she maintained eye-contact with him as she crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in her seat. Colonel Phillips set the tray of food down onto the table and spun it around before gesturing towards the unoccupied chair across from them. “Sit down.”

With obvious trepidation, Zola followed his order and sat, his brow arching as he looked down at the steak, potatoes, broccoli and glass of milk laid out before him. “What is this?”

“Steak.”

“What is in it?”

“Cow!” Colonel Phillips looked incredulously between (Y/N) and Zola. “Doctor, do you realize how difficult it is to get ahold of a prime cut like that out here?”

The Swiss doctor shrugged. “I don’t eat meat.”

“Why not?”

Taken aback by (Y/N)’s pointed question, Zola fidgeted in his seat and replied, “It disagrees with me.”

“How about cyanide? Does that give you the rumbly tummy, too?”

While Zola’s brow furrowed in confusion, Colonel Phillips spun the tray back around and used the utensils to begin cutting into the steak as (Y/N) continued. “Every Hydra agent that we’ve tried to take alive has crunched a little pill before we can stop him, but not you.”

The colonel hummed in agreement as he feasted on the tray of food, raising his fork in the air and glancing over at (Y/N) with a look of exaggerated curiosity on his wrinkled face. “Here’s my brilliant theory, Agent (Y/L/N): he wants to live.”

“You’re trying to intimidate me, Colonel.” Zola’s beady eyes flicked between them as a sheen of sweat slowly covered his balding head, obviously growing anxious under the strain of his imprisonment and their unconventional interrogation.

Colonel Phillips scoffed. “We bought you dinner. Why don’t we cut to the chase and show Doctor Zola here what’s in that file?”

While the colonel cut the steamed potatoes into quarters, (Y/N) withdrew a single piece of paper from the file and slid it across the table, her red-lacquered nails drumming on the tabletop as she watched the Swiss doctor read the typed mission report aloud. “‘…and in exchange for his full cooperation, Doctor Zola is being remanded to Switzerland…’”

“I sent that message to Washington this morning. Of course, it was encoded.” (Y/N) leaned forward, resting her elbows on the tabletop, and fixed Zola with an unwavering stare. “You guys haven’t broken those codes, have you? That would be awkward.”

Zola’s expression remained neutral, but the lines between his brows were visibly deeper and she could practically see the wheels turning inside his head while he carefully considered his predicament. “Schmidt will know this is a lie.”

“He’s going to kill you anyway, doc.” Colonel Phillips punctuated his blunt reply with a shrug. “You’re a liability. You know more about Schmidt than anyone and the last guy you cost us was Captain Rogers’ closest friend, so I wouldn’t count on the very best of protection.” The sound of Bucky’s scream as he fell from the train and into the deep chasm below played on a loop in (Y/N)’s mind, forcing her to dig her nails into the skin of her palms to keep from reacting, an action she was no stranger to as a woman serving in a secretive branch of the Allied armed forces but one that she hated having to perform in the wake of her friend’s death. “It’s you or Schmidt; it’s just the hand you’ve been dealt.”

The Swiss doctor, taking note of the colonel’s grim tone and the obvious tension in (Y/N)’s shoulders, huffed out a humorless chuckle before nodding once and stating, “Schmidt believes he walks in the footsteps of the gods. Only the world itself will satisfy him.”

“You do realize that’s nuts, don’t you?”

Shaking his head, Zola huffed out a humorless chuckle at the colonel’s comment. “The sanity of the plan is of no consequence.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because he can do it!”

(Y/N), losing patience with Zola and his feeble attempts at providing them with answers, snapped out, “What’s his target?”

When Zola’s beady eyes focused on hers, a shiver of foreboding traveled up (Y/N)’s spine and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to look away as he simply replied, “His target…is everywhere.”

“He told us everything we needed to know; the exact coordinates of Schmidt’s secret base in the Alps, a detailed run-down of Schmidt’s plan to bomb over half a dozen of the world’s largest cities, how much time we had before Hydra’s scheduled attack on New York…and within twenty-four hours, Schmidt was dead and Hydra was finally defeated.” (Y/N)’s fingers were wrapped tightly around her now-empty cup and she was leaning against Jack’s side, taking comfort in her boyfriend’s sturdy form as she spoke in the lowest tone she could and kept a wary eye on Peggy across the waiting room. “But there was something about his eyes, like he knew some big secret that the colonel and I could never understand, and I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something we missed.” Swallowing thickly, she finally looked over at Jack and met his empathetic gaze. “That’s crazy, right?”

Jack shook his head. “Definitely not. Listen, Specs, we might’ve both served on opposite ends of the world, but all the horrible shit we saw and lived through during the war? It hasn’t broken us. We’re still here, and our experiences matter because they’re what shaped us into the people we are today: people who dedicated their lives to making this screwed-up world a better place.” The corner of his lip curved into a small smile as he affectionately bumped the side of her head with his own. “You were the one who taught me that.”

Looking into his clear blue eyes, (Y/N) felt the stiffness in her shoulders begin to melt away and she couldn’t fight the smile that slowly made its way onto her face. “I’m a pretty good teacher, aren’t I?”

“Oh, hands-down, the smartest and most gorgeous teacher I’ve ever had.” Her boyfriend’s flirtatious wink forced (Y/N) to mask her giggle with a cough and flash several of the waiting room’s occupants an apologetic look while he quietly continued. “If you think that Zola’s up to no good, then I believe you. There’s no easy way to handle a situation as delicate as Operation Paperclip; all we can do is our best and in this case, the best that we can do is to keep a close eye on him and every other scumbag Nazi scientist that they’ve recruited. How’s that sound, Specs?”

She took a deep breath and gave him a firm nod. “Like a pretty solid game plan, Flyboy.”

Before either of them could say another word, the double doors leading into the hospital’s operating room swung open and Howard strode into the waiting room, a grin on his face as he made a bee-line over to where Peggy stood. “Michael’s been wheeled into a recovery room and all preliminary signs are pointin’ to a successful operation. Your brother’s gonna be just fine, Peg.”

The younger woman’s anxious expression was overtaken by a look of overwhelming relief and she didn’t hesitate to throw her arms around the inventor in a tight hug. The rest of the waiting room collectively released the grateful breath that they’d been holding for hours and while the SOE officers and SSR officials talked amongst themselves, Jack wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and pressed a chaste kiss onto her temple; she closed her eyes and as she took comfort in her boyfriend’s supportive touch, she spoke a silent word of thanks to the universe for Michael’s successful surgery and for sending her a supportive and understanding partner in the form of Jack Grant Thompson.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: They're gonna have their hands full keeping an eye on Zola and the other Hydra scientists 👀 Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I've created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I'll be updating it every time I upload a new one-shot! Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0iKzLZlEK1rTaSIiW5zRlk?si=483950cfa991442a

“Tales From The SSR” Masterlist

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @hufflefluffy @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @coffeeandcrimeshows @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @fannyspammy @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @nincompoopydoo @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular @mads-weasley @mostclevermiss @crowleysqueenofhell @groovyqueer @xxruinaxxmcu

53 notes · View notes