Chapter 16
Midnight
“Bucky? Bucky!”
It was Sam. He heard Sam yelling his name — but he couldn’t speak. He opened his mouth to call out to Sam, but all that came out was a silent gasp.
The memory had come to him all at once. It had been as naturally as breathing. And now he was choking on it.
Midnight
“He’s coming down the hall, guys,” said Sam over the radio. “Two security dudes in tow. Be careful. I’m sweeping the garage for more security.”
Bucky and Natasha tensed as the hotel door clicked. Natasha nodded at him.
Bucky was standing to the right of the doorway. He quickly pivoted and grabbed the first security guard and slammed his head against the wall, knocking him out cold.
Natasha had the second guy. She threw him over her shoulder and he hit the ground, cursing. She drew her gun and pointed it at him. He dropped the gun that was in his hands and turned around slowly, then dropped to his knees, apparently surrendering. But when Natasha moved closer to him, he reached for something near his ankle. Another gun. Natasha reacted almost instantly, but not quickly enough. Three gunshots rang out.
There went the element of surprise.
The guards must have been sweeping the room, because the target wasn’t with them. He was probably halfway to the elevator now.
“Fuck,” said Bucky, then, into his radio, “Sam? Shots fired, shots fired.”
The security guard was on the floor. He wasn’t moving. Nat was clutching her shoulder. “I’m hit,” she said.
He was at her side in an instant. “How bad?”
“It’ll be fine.” But she was pale, a faint sheen of sweat turning her face waxy.
“Sam - we need evac for Romanov,” Bucky said. “Target will be here any second. Zemo — we need a distraction.”
“I’ll handle it,” said Zemo.
“On my way,” said Sam.
“Can you walk?” Bucky asked Natasha. She nodded. “Good. Rendezvous in the east alley. Sam — if I’m not there in 5, take Romanov and go.
“What about the target?” said Zemo.
Bucky felt a stab of annoyance. “Let me worry about him.”
—
Bucky pulled his hood up and kept his head down as hie sprinted to the elevator. He got there right as the elevator doors whirred shut. He couldn’t see whether Haverly was on it. Time for Plan B. He burst into the stairwell and vaulted over the metal railing, jumping to ground level. He landed hard with a deep metallic clunk, his metal arm absorbing the inertia.
Just as he hit the ground, the fire alarm started to blare. This must be Zemo’s distraction. He picked himself up, looked around. He took a few deep breaths. He removed his hoodie, peeled off his overshirt to reveal a grey long sleeve underneath, then turned the hoodie inside out. He left the hood down and added a baseball cap. He stuffed the overshirt into a nearby air duct.
He strolled out of the stairwell at a trot, wanting to look concerned but not frantic. He scanned the lobby until he found what he was looking for - a sweaty, balding man in his fifties or sixties, hustling toward the revolving doors. The lobby was now filling with people, and Bucky quickened his pace, keeping the target in sight.
Haverly turned left, and Bucky followed moments later. He was heading for the alley. How kind of him.
By the time the man saw him, it was too late. He had one hand over the target’s sweaty mouth, the other arm around his neck. Bucky squeezed, putting pressure on the man’s carotid, but stopping short of seriously injuring him. They couldn’t do the job here, not now. They had to get him to another location.
Haverly slumped to the ground. Bucky dragged him behind a large dumpster. He rolled the man onto his stomach, then bound his hands behind his back with zip ties. Keeping one foot between the man’s shoulder blades, he crouched and patted the man down. He removed a phone, checked the call log, then pulled the SIM card and snapped it. He tossed the phone and SIM into the dumpster.
Sam pulled up in a white van. Without a word, Sam and Bucky unceremoniously hoisted Haverly into the back. Bucky hopped into the van, leaving the door open, and Sam drove. Romanov appeared a little way down the alley. Bucky was relieved to see she was standing on two feet, though she was swaying a bit.
The van slowed, but didn’t stop, and Romanov jumped in next to Bucky. He pulled the door shut behind her.
“Zemo, we’re clear,” said Sam into the radio. “We have the target. Can you get us to a safe location?”
“Sending coordinates now,” said Zemo.
They heard the distant wail of the fire alarm, along with police sirens and ambulances. Whatever Zemo had done, it had been a hell of a distraction.
Bucky was tensed like a coiled snake. He reached out and touched Romanov’s arm.
“You good?”
She nodded, then forced a smile. “No sweat. Just another day in the office. You?”
“I’m good,” said Bucky.
Something was bothering him, though. Something more than just the mission going completely FUBAR. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it. And maybe he didn’t want to.