Wanda pressed down on the traditional red dress she was wearing. It was formal and a gift from another Sokovian. She and Pietro had taken to wearing red and blue in homage to the nation's flag. They'd be carrying a white banner for peace between them today. The respectability was intended as a contrast to the expected brutality of the protest tonight on Christmas. The hope was that the security forces might be moved by traditional Orthodox piety or, if not that, than brutality to the protestors would force the regime sympathetic Orthodox Church into at least a more neutral position. Wanda still held out hope that they might get attention from other regions. Sokovia was one of the least powerful countries in the world, but it was a point of interest to democratic nations in the West. Sokovia for Peace didn't need or seek outside funding, but it was useful to have diplomatic pressure on the local regime.

But Wanda and Pietro had been learning of the fickle attention of the western media in the aftermath of the Attack on Greenwich. They had been a top news story in early November, but almost two months later attention had not returned to Sokovia. All eyes and mouths were talking SWORD and interstellar defense and nobody was thinking about insuring liberty for the people of Sokovia.

"The repression has been getting worse," Pietro said as he warmed his hands next to Wanda, rubbing them in the cold. They were to meet up with the other protestors and make a march for old cathedral of Novi Grad and occupy it and sing hymns about the theotokos, but they had been careful to make sure they began somewhere relatively unexpected. Word had been passed around by hand.

"They're certainly smarter than they were a few months ago," Wanda agreed. The attacks had been more focused. Leaders were vanished or moved to prisons in distant lands through SHIELD. A fifty year old mentor had turned up dead, according to the mortician of a heart attack - In spite of the bullet in her chest. A deliberate snub, but not one they could do anything about.

"Do you believe the rumors about Trent?" Pietro asked.

"No." Wanda said firmly. Trent had helped them, he had brought them the charisma they needed. Sokovia was listening to them. They might had to bounce from house to house, but everywhere they were 'the Twins of Sokovia.' It was helping them hold together in the face of a much more intelligent regime strategy. "He wouldn't. He helped us when he had no reason. And we've kept our end of the bargain, even when a more nationalist tone might have helped. Sokovia for Peace is a promise kept. Trent's promise."

"I worry," Pietro said, sighing. "I worry a lot. Are we losing? Is that what is happening? Is it him?"

Wanda shook her head, "We had more attendance at our last rally than we had two months ago, Pietro. They have gotten cleverer, but so have we. For every Sokovian they have beaten, for every Sokovian they have jailed, we have found a brother, wife, daughter, or father to take up their banner. It's wise to be cautious, Pietro, but we must keep up hope. We will win this, if we just stick together."

"This is why you give the speeches," Pietro said as they started toward their rendezvous point. He had the banner rolled up and tucked beneath one arm. He was wearing a dark blue suit that was at odds with his dyed hair.

They met some of the early organizers and she did her best to remember their names. There were so many names, so many homes she had stayed at, she had trouble. She liked them, they were brave and they were her people, but she couldn't always keep the names straight. So she was forced to mostly say, "Today is an important day for Sokovia," and "It is good to see you again" whenever she recognized a face. If that got suspicious in lack of familiarity, Wanda gave them a hug. Nobody doubted her sincerity after a hug.

Some faces were new, friends or family of attendees who had gotten the word. Wanda did her best not to act too paranoid whenever she met a new person, a bright smile and a, "We're so grateful to have you here, what we're doing here matters" as she took account of their clothes and demeanor, wondering if they were a snitch for the secret police.

They started walking, chanting a hymn based on the Magnificat and carrying icons. Wanda was not very religious, but the symbology was useful and it wasn't that she didn't believe in God. She had been baptized into the Orthodox Church but after her parents death, she hadn't had the heart to make it back. Then during her early activism, she had discovered that the priests were often regime apologists - Claiming there would be a return to Soviet anticlericalism if democracy came to Sokovia - and she hadn't been interested in that. She had learned more about Orthodoxy preparing for these protests than she had learned in her adult life. But the Magnificat and its chant were lovely and Wanda joined in heartily when they reached the verse that spoke of God putting down the mighty from their throne and sending the rich away empty. Wanda liked that part, at least, and she was grateful for the little grandmother who had suggested it as a song for tonight.

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They managed a procession as they continued to converge towards the cathedral in the city square. The procession grew larger and larger, larger than she had ever hoped it would be. It felt like all of Novi Grad was coming out, though Wanda did a quick enough head count while carrying the banner to know that this wasn't right. It was large though, larger than previous demonstrations. It felt like the dam was breaking.

No police presence obstructed the marchers as they removed the metal gate and streamed into the old building. That was suspicious, but there was nothing to do about it. The press of bodies around Wanda was warm and reassuring. They assembled around the central altar of the round cathedral. The arch of the dome, an old wooden throne upon a dais, it was all romantic in Wanda's eyes, especially against the light of all the candles that the protestors had brought.

Wanda stepped out of the press of the bodies and onto the dais, feeling the chill of the early January air for the first time. She waited for the last hymn to stop and then she started to speak.

"We are in the exact center of Novi Grad. We want what all people everywhere want, the desire of their heart that they have been given by God. We want peace! We want justice! And we want a say in our own destinies! Sokovia has been used, over and over, as a pit stop for empires. Today, we are gathered to fly a flag for peace! We are not the enemies of human unity, as our opponents have alleged. They are the ones who would rip a mother from their child's arms, the ones who murder and lie, who pour out the blood that today cries out against them from the earth. Today, we are here to say what has to be said: Sokovia must be free, today and forever, and those forces that have served to prop up this treacherous, greedy cabal must be removed. We have no beef with anyone, our goal is not to punish, what we want - What we all want - is to stop being the casualties in someone else's wars. To bind our wounds, to heal our hurts, and to forgive our trespasses in peace and not at the end of a gun!"

The crowd was cheering, but Wanda saw headlights in the distance.

"Everyone, remember, we must stay calm. If you have a camera, keep it rolling. We will not be defeated. Make them drive you out of here! Don't give them an excuse! Make them prove it is they who want violence. No matter how painful it is, Peace for Sokovia, Freedom for our children!"

"Peace for Sokovia, Freedom for Our Children!"

The chant was regular like a drum beat and Wanda was the drum major. There was no hope in having a long, discursive speech now. The message was in the chanting. Wanda felt sure that a violent dispersal would deliver even more people to the movement. What sort of people attacked a church on Christmas Day? Even if it wasn't hallowed ground anymore, it was disgraceful conduct.

The police began to move in but Wanda wasn't afraid. Whatever happened now, she would face it with her people. They had a perimeter and police masks but the people were chanting and Wanda's heart was full. What came would come.

Gas canisters burst into the room. Some women threw shawls over them, but there were too many. It was a surprisingly thin gas but Wanda kept up the shouting.

"Bring out Wanda and Pietro alive and intact, and surrender to the police" a voice said over the radio. She didn't recognize the voice. But all of a sudden, the crowd started closing in on her and Pietro with some menace. She lurched back, bumping into others who had stepped up on the dais. "No! What are you doing!" Wanda shouted, as Pietro looked at her with fear in his eyes. Some of these people were new, of course they were, but the whole crowd was closing in. She and Pietro exchanged glances.

"The gas!" Pietro said and Wanda knew it was true.

"We have to get out of here!" Ordinary humans were not much of an individual threat, but once it had become clear to them that Wanda and Pietro were going to resist, they put up a real fight. Clawing and hitting and shoves. Wanda had shoved the grandmother who had picked out the hymns and hoped that she didn't get too hurt.

She and Pietro made it to the police, who were carrying guns and leveled them at them. "Freeze" they shouted behind gas masks. But Wanda and Pietro were super soldiers, they grabbed the guns, used the bodies of the police officers as temporary shields, and moved through the police line, jumping onto cars and then onto rooftops and then down the tight streets of Novi Grad.

It was only once they had reached beyond the edge of the city that Wanda allowed herself to cry.