Four
The light had all but faded from the sky by the time the jagged outline of the powerplant came into view, just visible over a large jutting ridge. The sky had deepened from a harsh blazing orange to a cool perriwinkle, dotted with the occasional star. A chill had settled over the evening, dampening the dry, oppressive heat that had pulled at them all day. Below them down the steep rocky hill spread the crumbling labyrinth of the power plant, twisted in shadow and beckoning silently.
Bucky stood tall against the dusk-blue sky stretched behind him, his tactical gear wrapped around him tightly. He looked menacing, solid, an extension of his vibranium arm rather than it an extension of him. Looking at Bucky, Sam could find no trace of the man gasping awake in the backseat of the transport vehicle, face shining in sweat, eyes filled with confusion. No, he found nothing like that now.
Bucky flexed his metal arm in front of him. Sam could hear the clicks of the metal plates as they calibrated, shifting together in a ripple that flashed a bright silver in the darkness of the dusk. His eyes narrowed on the arm as he tapped programming into Redwing's keypad.
"That thing screwed on all the way?" Bucky lifted his head, giving Sam a smirk, refusing to satisfy him with an answer. He rotated his arm in a circle, his fist clenched into a stone, and winced as he remembered Ayo's hand. It had been a blur, her fingertips flying across him, then the sickening feeling of a release from deep in his chest and shoulder, as if the bones in his shoulder had unlocked. And then a staggering weightlessness as disorientation had taken him. He remembered hearing a very heavy thud and looking down, not processing that the smooth metal appendage glinting lifelessly on the carpeted floor had been his own left arm. He clenched the fingers in his vibranium fist tightly, attempting to crush the memory and the sickening feeling of that awful absence all together, feeling the metal of his hand crunch together satisfyingly. He focused on the tightness, the strength and solidity of his arm, the one part of him that was indestructible, unfeeling. He pushed all else out of his mind and focused on that. Sam was standing upright now, next to him, his eyes wandering over the landscape before them.
Bucky glanced over at him. "How we lookin?"
Sam flipped his visor down and watched the readings appear on the screen before him. The orange heat signatures darted across the front of what seemed to be the main opening to the power plant. He counted them, noted their movements, the routes they took. "We got a handful down by the entrance. Not too spread out."
"Perfect. Let's go."
"Wait—wait." Sam exasperatedly yanked Bucky backwards. "You always doing this shit man, slow down. We need a damn plan."
"The plan is, I hit them hard with my metal fist."
"Very good. And then what?"
"Then they fall down and don't get up."
Sam threw up his hands. "We need to map the exit routes, the entrance routes. There could be more coming that I'm not picking up. Utilize our numbers, remember the objective. We're there to set up the transmission, so it would be helpful to locate the transmission room."
"If it was up to you, we'd be here discussing the plan all week before doing anything." Bucky grumbled.
"What did you say? I didn't hear that."
"Nothing. I'm going down there!"
"No you're not. We're going to split up. Find a back entrance. Hitting them hard is great but if we tip off White Dragon, the whole thing could go up in our faces."
"Sam is right." Bucky and Sam both turned to see John, standing in his uniform, the shield grasped in his hand. Bucky's eyes fell to it and he paled slightly.
"Put that down." Bucky said, pointing at the shield. Sam could hear the beginning of a tremor enter Bucky's voice.
"Where'd you --when did you grab that?" Sam demanded, reaching over his shoulder to feel along his back where the shield was always latched.
"I'm going after White Dragon." John declared, stepping backwards, raising the shield to his shoulder.
"Like hell. Give me the shield." Bucky growled.
Sam shot Bucky a look. "You mean give Sam the shield."
"Enough!" John snapped, "John has the shield now. I mean— dammit— I have the shield now! Someone's gotta take charge of this mission. And seeing as Clemons put me in charge—"
"I beg your pardon? Put you in charge—come here—" Bucky lunged toward John.
Sam scrambled to his feet, put a hand on Bucky's chest, shoving him back.
"Everyone slow the fuck down! First of all, we don't even know if White Dragon is even here. We have our objective, it's simple! Second of all, John...I'm not sure what the fuck is wrong with your head, but you have until one to give me my shield before I beat your ass! Five—"
"One!" Bucky declared, starting forward. John stumbled backwards at Bucky's advancement and wobbled off balance. Eyes wide with panic at the realization that Bucky wasn't stopping, John flung the shield forward. His technique was unpracticed, off balanced, amateur, but Bucky hadn't expected it. The shield cut through the air, closing the short distance in a blink of an eye. The spinning metal disk's trajectory was not true enough to cause terrible damage, but it was enough. It glanced across Bucky's face, slashing through the bridge of his nose and up across his temple before continuing its path hurtling toward the power plant. Bucky felt the ground slam into his back. Felt the right side of his face on fire, a wet, streaming fire. He imagined his head had cracked open and his brains were flowing out quickly, too quickly for anyone to salvage and put back in. Bucky heard the familiar sound of turbines firing, then a thudding noise, grunting, and swearing. He sat up and as soon as he did, was met with a wall of white pain, sharp and pointed. It struck him like a bolt through his right eye and out the back of his head. He fought back nausea and slid his hands along the ground, fighting for a shred of balance. Somehow adrenaline propelled him to his feet. He blinked through his streaming eye, staggering forward. Sam had John pinned flat on his back, forearm across his throat. Sam felt Bucky stumble against him, glanced up as Bucky swung his vibranium arm dizzily and ended up burying his fist into the dirt a couple inches from John's head. He swore, wrenched it out, right eye squeezed shut. He tried again. Found himself in Sam's grip. Sam's blurred face shined with sweat, mouth moving furiously. He found himself held up by Sam's tight grip around his upper arm, realizing it was the only thing stopping him from crumbling to the ground. His vision dipped in and out.
"Hey. Hey, you with me?" Sam was turning Bucky's face to look at him. "Jesus Christ."
"I'm gonna kill him." Bucky mumbled.
"Stop moving." Sam grunted, wrestling Bucky back down as he fought to get around him. He seized Bucky's face and held it still as he examined the gash.
"You'll need stitches, but the good news is it missed your eye." Sam panted, "Just barely.”
Behind them John rolled over and got to his knees, coughing up dust, eyes wild. Sam turned, his eyes narrowed to slits. He watched John come towards him with his hands out, and slowly released Bucky's face, rising to his feet. John was talking. Sam could barely hear him through the blood pounding in his ears.
"Look. I'm sure you'll understand when this is all over. I'm doing what needs to be d—"
Sam's fist connected with John's face so forcefully and so quickly it barely made a sound. There was a lingering moment as consciousness blinked out from John's eyes, and then he thudded on his back into the dirt, motionless. Sam regarded him for a brief moment, lip curled, then turned to Bucky, whose mouth was hanging open.
"That might be the coolest thing you've ever done."
Sam shook his head. "He's a liability. We're better off without him."
"I can't believe you just cold-cocked him." he grunted as Sam pulled him to his feet. Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You sure you're good to go?" he watched Bucky closely. Bucky squinted at him through his left eye, an eyebrow raised. "I have never felt better." "Good." Sam turned to the power plant, shadow falling across his face. "We've wasted enough time up here. Let's go."