Peggy Carter

The tranquility of Max's thoughts shattered with the sudden rustling from the woods. He tensed, instinctively alert to the approaching presence. Esme shouldn't be back so soon, so who could it be?

With cautious curiosity, he waved the door open and silently moved into the diamensional space, preparing for whatever or whoever was about to emerge.

Minutes later, a figure clad in American military uniform sauntered out from the woods, gun slung over his shoulder with an air of nonchalance. His gaze fell upon the house, a hint of surprise flickering across his features as he strode towards it.

As the soldier raised his foot to climb the steps, Max materialized behind him, a hand knife poised and ready.

With swift precision, the soldier crumpled to the ground, unconscious before he even realized the threat.

Though puzzled by the soldier's presence, Max wasted no time in appropriating his attire. He spared the soldier some dignity, leaving him clothed albeit missing a logo or two. Standing guard with the soldier's gun, Max awaited his awakening.

When the soldier finally stirred, disoriented and chilled to the bone from being stripped of his uniform, panic gripped him. He scrambled to his feet, instinctively scanning for his assailant, only to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun wielded by an Asian man in his own clothes.

"Who?" His incredulous whisper was cut short by a deafening blast as pain seared through his leg, sending him crashing back to the ground.

Max's voice sliced through the tense air, cool and measured. "Why are you here?"

The soldier's retort was drowned out by another gunshot, this time tearing through his arm, eliciting a guttural cry of agony.

"I don't relish this," Max stated calmly, "but your defiance leaves me little choice. You have three opportunities to cooperate. I suggest you make them count."

Three chances? The soldier pondered through the haze of pain, realizing grimly what they might entail: one limb at a time, until only the head remained.

"My troops are patching up nearby, and I'm out to let loose," he muttered, his voice trembling with tension.

"Let loose?" Max arched an eyebrow, sizing up the soldier before him. "Seems like a soldier's idea of a good time, definitely a woman."

"No money in sight, I reckon," Max added casually when the soldier remained silent.

The soldier stayed tight-lipped.

"In wartime, the gun is the currency," Max remarked, a hint of disdain in his voice. "This sort of thing's all too common in the mercenary game." He paused, then continued, "So, your troops are fixing up? Heading back to the front?"

"Yes," came the terse reply.

"Sending supplies to the Roaring Commando, huh? Familiar with them? Used to be led by Captain America..." Max's finger twitched toward his gun, cutting off the soldier before he could finish speaking. "Don't need the history lesson. Keep it to yourself."

"Who's in charge of the delivery?" Max inquired.

"Ka, Agent Carter. She's Cap's liaison," the soldier responded.

"Peggy Carter?" Max mused for a moment. "Alright, you can scram now."

But the soldier stood frozen in place.

"Why the hesitation? Want to stick around?" Max gestured with his gun.

"Please, let me go!"

The soldier, heedless of injury or attire, limped off into the woods with haste.

Once alone, Max stashed the silver samurai armor in a hidden compartment, leaving the triangular-spiked gun out in plain sight. If Esme returned, she'd know where to find him.

With a sigh, Max slipped back into the diamensional space, trailing after the soldier.

Funny how things work out. Max had been racking his brain over finding Howard Stark, and here while Peggy Carter practically delivered herself to his doorstep.

It didn't take long to catch up with the soldier, trailing him to a bustling campsite.

This must be a supply depot, buzzing with activity. Cars parked haphazardly, crates scattered about, soldiers scurrying to and fro.

When the soldier emerged, a ripple of concern swept through the camp. Moments later, a figure emerged from a distant military tent.

The woman, clad in military garb, exuded an air of authority and strength.

"What's going on?" Peggy Carter inquired sharply, her gaze fixated on the soldier speaking.

"A soldier got injured and claimed there were Japanese soldiers nearby," the soldier replied nonchalantly.

Peggy Carter didn't dismiss it outright. "Japanese soldiers here? Highly unlikely. Find out how he got injured," she instructed with authority.

"Got it!"

The soldier pivoted to carry out her command, displaying trust in Peggy Carter's judgment. It made sense; with the Japanese forces stretched thin, their presence seemed improbable. Peggy shook her head before heading back to the barracks.

But as Peggy entered, she swiftly reached for her gun, wheeling around to confront an unexpected figure behind her.

"Who are you?" Peggy Carter demanded, her grip firm on her weapon.

"You didn't expect to see me here," Max remarked with a smirk.

Peggy's brow furrowed. Max's composure in the face of a loaded gun was unsettling. There was something about him, an ease that didn't feel feigned.

"Did you injure the soldier and track him here? You either mistook me for someone in authority or..." Peggy paused, assessing Max carefully. "...you sought me out deliberately."

As Peggy Carter spoke, Max remained unperturbed. She lowered her gun slowly, contemplating a conversation. Just as she was about to initiate it, she abruptly aimed a swift kick towards Max's groin.

But Max was quick to react, deftly parrying Peggy's strike.

Peggy's eyes widened in surprise. Max's calmness wasn't mere facade; he anticipated her move.

Before Peggy could react, Max seized her ankle, catching her off guard.

....

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