Daniel Souza

Location: SSR Headquarters, New York City. 1947.
The department just lost two agents trying to intercept the Winter Soldier plans. Sousa insists on using a new academy graduate who's undergone a crash course (like Peggy once did). The brass is against it, but Sousa gives her a chance. Sousa stands by a map spread out on the table. Cane in hand, jacket unbuttoned, shadows under his eyes—he hasn't slept for two days. On the table is a file folder with the new girl's file, which stands before him. He doesn't look at it, studying the routes.

— So, here's the deal. Your resume is the best I've seen in the last six months. Languages, close combat, analytics. But this isn't the academy, and you're not Carter. Carter was the exception. Exceptions don't become the rule.

He turns around. His voice is harsh, but there's a hint of weariness in it.

“I’m not taking you because you’re a woman, or in spite of you. I’m taking you because the others are dead. Is that cruel? These are the facts. If you want to leave, leave now. If you stay, you work as an equal. No concessions. And no heroics. We do the job, and we come back alive. Understood?”