Prologue

1991, Somewhere in the Soviet Union

A Soviet officer named Karpov punched the secret code into the keypad protecting a secure locker deep inside a remote base that did not appear on any map. The door opened, and he removed a small red book. It contained, among other top-secret information, the elaborate series of command words that would reactivate the experimental subject known as the Winter Soldier. This was only to be done for critical missions, but Karpov had just such a mission to complete. Only the legendary Winter Soldier could be trusted to do it.

As Karpov entered the laboratory, the Winter Soldier, barely conscious, was taken out of his stasis tube and brought into the laboratory. Soldiers locked him into a chair with a metal framework overhead, taking special care to secure his cybernetic arm. The containment divide dropped down to lock in place around his head. Karpov nodded at a technician, who activated large electrodes. Their crackle filled the room along with the Winter Soldier’s screams. Karpov cared nothing for the Winter Soldier’s pain. He only wanted a functional asset to execute the mission.

When the electrodes had finished their work, the Winter Soldier slumped, limp in the chair. Karpov opened the book and began to read in Russian. “Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak. Furnace.” Each word slotted into the Winter Soldier’s head like a puzzle piece, slowly putting his mind back together. “Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight car.”

The Winter Soldier raised his head, eyes focused.

“Good morning, soldier,” Karpov said. He set the red book on a table near where the Winter Soldier, shackled and sweating, sat.

The Winter Soldier looked him in the eye. Did he remember that he had once been James Buchanan Barnes, best friend of Captain America? Could he? Karpov did not know and did not care. The important thing was what the Winter Soldier could do. The command words removed his willpower, and that was all that mattered.

“Ready to comply,” the Winter Soldier said.

Karpov nodded. “I have a mission for you. Sanction and extract. No witnesses.”

The Winter Soldier took his time observing the targets to establish their patterns. He chose the perfect night to execute the mission. When the moment came, he pursued the targets’ vehicle, a stylish town car, down a remote country road. He shot out a front tire and the car crashed into a tree. Then he opened the trunk and found the object he’d been assigned to recover: a steel briefcase. He did not know what it contained, but that was not part of his mission. When he had secured the case, he made sure there would be no witnesses. The two people in the car would look as if they had died in the crash. The mission went precisely as planned.

When the Winter Soldier returned to base, the only thing Karpov said before scrambling his mind again was, “Well done, soldier.”