Chapter 12
On the walk back, Bucky felt lighter than he had just an hour earlier. It felt good not to pretend that everything was normal. It felt good to talk to someone who knew his past, and who had her own checkered history. And most of all, it felt good to release some of that anger that he kept harboring. Anger at HYDRA, anger at SHIELD. Anger at Steve. Anger at himself.
It was the anger that was killing him. He had to figure out what to do with it. Because he couldn’t let it continue to eat him up inside.
As they approached the building, Bucky flung out an arm to stop Nat in her tracks. “The lights are out,” he said.
“What are you thinking?” she said.
“Don’t know,” said Bucky. “Follow me. Let’s take the back stairs.”
Bucky led Nat through the doors at the back of the lobby which led to the service entrance. He cracked the padlocked door open like it was made of glass. Then he silently signaled for Nat to follow him.
When they approached the door leading from the staircase to the third floor hallway, Bucky whispered, “You should stay here. Don’t know what’s going on, but you’re unarmed.”
“So are you,” she hissed back at him. “Don’t be ridiculous, we’re going in together.”
“Fine,” said Bucky. “But stay back. I’ll signal you if I see anything.”
She rolled her eyes, but nodded.
The hallway was pitch black. They crept along, her keeping pace about 10 feet behind him.
The door to Sam’s apartment was slightly ajar. Bucky reached out with the metal arm and pushed it open.
“Ah, Sergeant Barnes. Please come in,” said a cheery voice.
Bucky’s eyes were still adjusting to the dark, but he recognized the voice easily. “Oh, you sneaky German bastard,” he said.
“Now now,” said Zemo. He was holding a glass of whiskey, swilling the ice around.
“Sam, what the hell are you thinking letting him in here?” demanded Bucky.
“Hey man, I didn’t let him in anywhere.” Sam was standing against the wall, his hand on his temples as if he had a headache, or was running out of patience. Or both.
“Come and close the door,” said Zemo. “And who is your beautiful friend? Is that the famous Black Widow? A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Wish I could say the same,” said Nat.
Once they were in the room, Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. “Zemo was just telling me that he has some valuable information for us.”
Zemo nodded. “But since it concerns your well-being, Sergeant Barnes, I decided to wait until you and Ms. Romanov arrived.”
“Well, spit it out,” said Bucky. “We don’t have all day.”
“Touchy, James,” said Zemo. He made a big show of relaxing onto the couch, yawning and stretching. The other three remained standing.
“Do you remember a man by the name of Haverly?”
“Rings a bell,” said Bucky. Haverly. Wasn’t anyone he killed. Not that he could remember, anyway.
“The husband of a foreign diplomat to Hungary,” Zemo prompted.
“Oh, yeah.” He felt suddenly cold. He remembered now. The woman had run afoul of some powerful people. He’d put a stop to that—by blackmailing her. She was into drugs, and bribes. He’d spent the night with her…slept with her. Then gotten her on tape, admitting to her misdeeds. He hadn’t been sure exactly what the blackmail was for. Whatever reason HYDRA needed her to fall in line, he wasn’t privy to it. He’d done his job. Destroyed her family, but she was one of the lucky ones. She was alive.
As if Zemo could read his mind, he said “You probably didn’t know this, but she killed herself two years ago. Soon after, her teenage daughter died of a drug overdose. And her husband…Erick Haverly, a business contact of mine…has become simply wretched with grief.”
“What does he want?” said Bucky.
“He wants to kill you,” said Zemo. “He got in touch with me, wanted to pay me a pretty penny if I would give him your location.”
“Well,” said Bucky, “why didn’t you?” It wasn’t like Zemo had any particular loyalty to him.
“Erick and I have had our share of squabbles. Certain enterprises he controls, I would prefer to be the sole provider of services. My price, for keeping your location a secret, is that you and Sam must kill him. Before he kills you.”
Sam and Bucky looked at each other.
“Where is this dude now?” asked Sam.
“Canada,” said Zemo. “For the next two weeks. Probably the best time to make our move.”
“Our? There is no us, Zemo,” said Sam scornfully.
Zemo adopted a wounded expression. “I came here to protect my friends!”
“Yeah, and your own ass,” said Sam.
“Nevermind,” said Bucky. “We’ll do it.”
“We will?” Sam said, incredulous.
“James—” Nat said, her face a picture of concern.
“I’ll do it,” he said again. “You all don’t have to come with me.”
The truth was, as much as he imagined he could have a quiet life, part of him wanted desperately to get that feeling back. That adrenaline, the rage, the pain of battle. It was pure. It was simple. It was something he understood. And despite his talk with Nat, he knew he was far from being normal.
“We’re coming with you,” said Nat. “No way I’ll letting you go off with him—“ she jerked her chin at Zemo—“without someone on your six.”
Bucky glanced at Sam. “What about you?”
“I don’t trust this fucking clown, James. I don’t want any part of his business. But if this dude wants to kill you…well, then that is my business. Let’s do this.” He turned to Zemo. “But if you try anything, I swear to god—“
“Yes, I know, I know, you’ll rip me limb from limb,” said Zemo with a sigh.
“Damn straight.”