Chapter 2
The covered Jeep bounced along the path that could barely be called a road. The way was hampered with rocks and roots. The vehicle forced tree limbs out of the way as it passed. Dugan behind the wheel did not make the ride any smoother.
There would be no rest for the Howling Commandos. Almost as soon as they had returned from their first mission, the next one had been assigned. And this one would not be nearly as simple. The wagon was silent as the commandos prepared themselves. The base was high in the mountains near the border France. Too deep into enemy territory for aerial scouts. The Captain was ordered to scope out the set up the next major Hydra factory and learn what would be needed to destroy it. A mission that required no small degree of stealth. They would only be able to go so far in the vehicle. Which also meant they were on their own, there would be no back up if things turned sour.
They had been driving for nearly two days now and were starting to get stir crazy. The covered jeep had two benches that lined the bed of the truck. Captain America and the Commandos sat in the back with supplies packed underneath their seats and at the front of the bed. Dugan sat in the cab by himself, typically smoking his small, dwindling supply of cigars. During the mission there would be a lights out order, where flashlights and smokes would have to be away as to not reveal their location. Dugan was smoking his difficult-to-acquire cigars while he had the chance. Just in case they would not be able to return to the jeep either.
The reverie was broken by a particularly massive lurch of the Jeep that sent the occupants flying out of their seats. Barnes was propelled into Gabe, who practically crushed Dernier beneath both of them.
“Keep good hold of your skirts, Ladies” Dugan shouted from the wheel.
“Are you even watching the road?” Morita shot back, having almost thrown the gun he was cleaning.
“What? Did you think I was driving on a rainbow bridge?”
“Or you’re just nuts!”
“Enough,” Falsworth interjected, rubbing his bruised shoulder. He had rammed into Steve which was almost the same as running into a brick wall. The Englishman brushed off the Captain’s apology, “We still have a ways to go and this is the only base we have.”
Rank did not mean much to the Commandos beyond the Captain’s order, but the Brit was appointed the second in command. Secretly, Falsworth had been surprised. He had assumed Bucky Barnes would be the Captain’s second as his oldest friend, even though Falsworth outranked him in a different army. But it was official, not that the Englishman could give an order without a smart remark that would have called for a reprimand in a normal troop. This bunch was far from normal and so was their mission.
“Dugan, pull off at the next clearing you find,” Steve ordered, it was only a couple of hours until sundown and they would not get close to Hydra until tomorrow.
In front of Colonel Phillips and the rest of the army, the broad, blond, icon was only known formally as Captain. Alone amongst his teammates and friends he could be Rogers or even just Steve.
Eventually, the truck pulled to the side of the road into a shallow clearing. The vehicle creaked and groaned as its forward motion halted.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Gabe said hesitantly.
“Nous aurons besoin de la pousser bientôt,” Dernier added. We will need to push it soon.
“I’ll give it a look,” Barnes offered after Gabe had translated the concerns, crawling under the truck. The Commandos did not need to be stranded before the mission even started. Bucky worked a multitude of odd jobs before shipping out. Taking a job for whatever he could even if it was only for a day. He had worked at the docks, stacking boxes for a grocer, and assisting a mechanic.
The others dispersed into setting up camp. The climate was cool, but not impossible to sleep outside. European weather however was subject to change quickly.
“Hey, Jimmy. How’s she lookin?” Dugan asked. The big man had almost tripped over the other’s feet twice when unloading the truck. Bucky ignored him, continuing to tinker with the rear axle. Though Dugan wasn’t expecting an answer as he knew Bucky hated being referred to any derivative of James. Despite the cheekiness, Dugan had not seen the pothole and wanted to be stuck without a ride as much as everyone else.
“Do we have a wrench?” Bucky asked to no one in particular.
“What’s wrong?” Steve asked as he passed the tool under.
“No much, just a couple loose bolts. It should be fine, even with Dum Dum driving.”
“We don’t have a jack with us,” Gabe noted from the fire he built up.
“I don’t think we will find one out here.” Falsworth added as he walked back into camp.
“Don’t need one,” said Steve. The Captain grabbed the edge of the truck and heaved, lifting it up enough to take the pressure off, allowing Bucky to quickly tighten the bolts and get out.
“Geez, nothing can stop you, Hercules” Dugan laughed.
“Yeah, I’m still getting used to it,” Bucky said, accepting a hand up from his childhood friend. His tone was light, but his smile was a halfhearted attempt. But so far, it was true. Steve Rogers could lift more, run faster, and learn quicker than anyone. The Commandos all learned how Steve had become Captain America, though none of them believe Bucky’s description of pre-serum Steve until they saw a photo.
The camp was set, blankets on the ground and packs for pillows would be their beds. The men would sleep out in the open air. Now Morita and Steve were going at it. Morita was on the offense, aiming blows at Steve’s stomach and head and attempting to kick out unbalance him. Steve was strictly on defense, his goal was to block. Despite the height difference, the Commando did manage nail Steve once in the chin. Fists were flying, kicks were thrown, but the sparring was steady until Morita started to tire. After a couple sloppy swings, Steve grabbed Morita’s wrist and flipped the man on to his back. “come on,” the man complained, brushing the dirt off his shoulder.
“It’s all good up close, but I don’t think Hydra is going walk up and let you punch them.”
The men gathered around the fire, sitting on logs, crates or in the dirt. Morita mixed a stew for dinner, it was light from the dried meat and water instead of a broth, but would be one of the last hot meals they were going to get for the foreseeable future. Gabe was telling an animated story of pretty girl back home that had sent him off to war with a number of kisses.
To the side, Dernier was speaking to Steve in a slow, exaggerated manner, “Le feu est chaud.” The fire is hot.
“Le feu est chaud.” Was the deliberate response
“Le feu va brûler si vous la touchez.” The fire will burn if you touch it.
“Le feu va brealer si vous la touchez.”
“Brûler,” Dernier correct.
“Brûler. Le feu va brûler si vous la touchez,” Steve dutifully repeated. Every chance there was the Captain had been picking up French from the explosive expert and German from Gabe. Dernier was more than happy to teach his language and his student was learning rapidly.
Dernier could in fact speak some conversational English. He tripped over the grammar and his accent was thick, but was able to be understood. The short man just preferred to speak in his native tongue, he was able to express himself easier and no one minded. During the war, it was important to hold on to every reminder of home.
The men were turning in when the night sky lit up and booming round of thunder followed shortly after.
The Howling Commandos and Captain America scrabbled to their feet, gathering their supplies as it began to rain. The rain poured heavily as the last couple packs were loaded into the truck and the men sat close together in the damp.
“Well, this is cozy,” Morita said dryly. The Nisei soldier wrung the water out of his skull cap in annoyance.
“It’ll be like when we were kids. Sleeping on the couch cushions,” Bucky remarked to his best friend.
“Except we weren’t wet,” Steve pointed out, laughing as Bucky waved away the details.
“We still have a job to do tomorrow, lads. Get some sleep.” Falsworth ordered. The soldiers settled in the crowded back of the truck, wiggling into a comfortable space as rained poured on the tarp roof and the windshield.
Captain Rogers remained awake, keeping watch, looking out the back of the truck. He was thinking of what lay ahead tomorrow and of who was waiting behind.
XX
The morning was misty and cool from the night’s rain. After a few more hours driving, the band of soldiers pulled off the road. This time the supplies were distributed into packs and the truck was covered with branches and leaves.
Surveillance flights showed that they had stopped about two miles from where the first Hydra perimeter guard should be stationed. The team needed to establish the layout of the factory, find the weapons, prisoners, and any higher ups that could be useful.
Falsworth, Gabe, and Bucky would swing left, Dugan, Dernier, and Morita to the right establishing the needed information. Captain America would go up and over.
“Alright, meet back at the rendezvous point at 1700 hours,” Steve ordered. The meeting time would give each group two hours to search and return. “Maintain radio silence unless necessary.”
Each group had a handheld walkie-talkie between them. The radios were redesigned by Howard Stark to make them lighter and more versatile for stealth missions like this one. The channel was a distinct signal that no one would be able to listen to unless they had a machine that generated it. The privacy was due to a scrabbling signal that piggy backed on the channel, but Steve and the Commandos had all tuned out the inventor’s detailed explanation. Gabe Jones was the only one of them that had any sort of interest in the ingenuity. What they did note was the frequency range was shorten to two square miles because of the decreased size.
Steve easily hopped over the over the wire fencing and scrabbled up to the roof of the nearest building. There were multiple, older styled buildings in this facility. If it wasn’t for the pair of Hydra guards that passed below the silent observer, he would have assumed it was just another village in France. The town was fairly remote and the perfect place for secrecy in an abandoned area.
Vaulting from roof to roof, Steve was nothing more than a shadow. He silently slipped past guards on the roof as he scoped the layout, mentally mapping traffic and resources as he went. The super soldier took extra care of where he placed his feet. This was not the time to engage the enemy. He could easily overtake any that came at him, but the advantage of stealth would be lost and any evidence would be destroyed. The commandos would be taking in the outer buildings and noting any escape routes.
Steve stopped short, crouching behind some large crates. The next roof was over 20 yards away; an impossible leap for anyone but him. The soldier hesitated for a moment, waiting for a guard to his right to pass him. As soon as the guard did, Steve took off, covering the distance and landing in a roll to the opposite roof.
He was about to bounce back to his feet until he heard sounds on the floor below him. Steve lay flat on his stomach, ear pressed against the old wood. The voices that filtered up were rapid as if startled, but it was the pitch that caught the soldier’s attention. The cries were high and light and as the fears formed in his mind a baby’s wail carried above all the noise.
The Captain quickly swung over the side of the building. Clinging to the nearest windowsill, Steve peered in to the small living room. Inside there were at least 20 women and children crowded together, ages ranging from elderly to infancy.
The civilians were frantic, pointing to the roof and Steve could see a chuck of the ceiling lying on the floor in the middle of the room. His landing must have loosened it.
The door across the room banged open. Steve pulled back, hanging by his fingers outside he could hear the guard yelling in German for silence and there was the sound of flesh hitting flesh. The women quieted even though they were speaking French before, but the baby cried.
After the door closed again, Steve shimmed back to the roof. He kneeled by the edge, mind spinning like rides at an amusement park. This town was never abandoned, Hydra had taken it over and imprisoned its inhabitants. Steve guessed that the men were in the factory now, working hard to keep their wives and children safe.
He need to get a better view of the other buildings now, who knows how many other rooms like the one below him, was.
Sharp crackle of static sounded and Captain America’s heart leaped into his throat. He groped for the radio at his hip, trying to muffle the noise with his hands. The heart in his throat squeezed with the realization that his team was in trouble.
“Need back up,” Falsworth’s British accent carried through the small device. “Ambushed by a patrol, Bucky’s been stabbed!!”
Now Steve’s heart stopped and he couldn’t breathe at all.
XX
Falsworth, Gabe, and Bucky ran in a line, hiding their numbers. They were hiding in the trees on top of the cliffs overlooking the village. The group had to duck from a couple of patrols along the way. There would be no escape from below with the rock wall, but the sound of drilling drew the soldiers closer.
Looking below, two gargantuan machines were pounding into the rock. Men filtered in around them, moving chucks and choking on dust.
“They are either looking for something or making a back door,” Gabe said softly.
“But we cannot tell which, from here,” Falsworth added.
One of the men, hauling stone collapsed. A black clad figure strode over kicking the down man. The next second, a blue light flashed and the prisoner was gone.
“Jesus,” Bucky whispered, memories floated to the surface. The young man rolled away, his breath coming his shallow gasps.
“Hey, man. It’s okay. We’re not there anymore,” Gabe said, catching on quickly to his comrades’ distress. Gabe Jones was an observant fellow, a trait that has lead him far in life and kept him alive in the war and as a prisoner. He knew that bad things had happened to the young New Yorker. Gabe has watched Bucky fold in on himself when he thinks know ones watching, but any attempt to talk about it was brushed off and the last time it was not so friendly.
Bucky stumbled around, his retort cut short as he spotted the Hydra guard pulled back his knife to stab the black commando from behind. “On your six!”
Bucky charged forward, tackling the enemy to the ground. The sounds of a scuffle reached him as he wrestled with the guard. A shot as Bucky managed to get a grip and snap the masked man neck.
Falsworth paused, looking around. The three man patrol had come from nowhere, but the sound from the drilling seemed to cover the fight as the men still worked on undisturbed. “Sound off,” he ordered.
“I’m fine,” Gabe gasped.
“Me, too. Ahh,” Bucky fell to the ground as pain shoot hot fire up his leg. He looked down to see the Hydra knife sticking out of his thigh. “Or not,” he grunted.
“Oh, Bollocks.”