T’Challa woke to find himself chained to a stone wall in a dark room. He yanked at his bonds but to no avail. Breathing heavily and with his head pounding he continued to fight against his restraints. That is until he heard the heavy slam of a nearby door.
His head whipped toward the source of the noise and when he looked Dr. Frost was entering the room, her hands clasped behind her back.
“If you’re thinking of torturing me for information about Wakanda you might as well forget it,” he told her. “I will not talk.”
“When I planned to conquer this world your capture was not part of the plan,” she told him. ‘Trust me when I say I do not care about your precious Wakanda. At least…not yet. But you will help me.”
I will never help the likes of you, he spoke in ixiXhosa.
Even though the HYDRA scientist couldn’t understand him she did notice the defiance in his tone. A hint of a smile touched her lips.
“I’m not surprised by your defiance but I’m confident that it will be shortlived. Bring her forward!”
T’Challa followed her gaze and gasped as he beheld the Winter Soldiers holding a bloodied Nakia between their arms. She looked utterly worse for wear.
“No,” he said. He struggled against his restraints with all of his might. “Nakia!”
“Your struggling is futile,” she told him. “But…we can save her if you comply with my wishes.”
Nakia’s head rose weakly and her gaze locked with his. Be strong, T’Challa, she said to him.
One of the Winter Soldiers shook her. “Be quiet,” he growled with his thick Russian accent.
He heard her words and he understood what she was trying to tell him but as he gazed at her with a dark splotch of blood covering her mid-section he couldn’t bring himself to let anything happen to her. With tears in his eyes, he bowed his head.
“I will do whatever you ask,” he told the golden-masked villainess.
Nakia shook her head. No.
A smile spread on Dr. Frost’s face. “I know you will.”