Chapter 4
Also, check out my Spotify Playlist I put together for this fic.
(Keep in mind the chapters, though. The tracks are kind of like a soundtrack.)
Belgium
The car ride after Nat’s arrival was the opposite of enjoyable. Steve drove but couldn’t concentrate because he was asking way too many questions at once. Natasha was hurt but didn’t respond to anything. A lonely tear ran down her cheek and while Sam tried to calm Steve down, she just looked out of the window with an expression they couldn’t read.
“Drive to Brussels,” she whispered.
“Are you sure?,” Steve fumbled around with the navigation system until Sam swatted the blond’s hands away.
“You keep your eyes on the street,” he warned, “I still remember last time we were doing this. Don’t wanna end up in a hospital again.”
“Brussels is like, 320 km away. What are we doing in Belgium? We should be flying back to Wakanda.”
“Finding answers.”
With that said, they drove another twenty minutes in silence, in an aggressive silence, because Steve looked like he was fuming. Sam was just a little pissed off, while Nat and him patched up her arm.
“Make a stop at the next highway station. We need to switch cars. We have to avoid all cameras. Also, get some sleep. We’re not gonna stop at a motel or anything.”
Steve stopped and made sure Sam took over so he could nap later. He also went to the bathroom. It was dark by now.
When he came back, Natasha waited for him, holding out her phone to him. Sam slid into the driver’s seat, starting the new car they had chosen. It had a German number plate and looked nice.
Steve and Nat shared the back row, she looked straight into his blue eyes, explaining her own devastation with just one look. He felt sorry for bombarding her with questions earlier and put an arm around her. We’re gonna get through it together. Still, she needed to tell him why they couldn’t go back to Wakanda yet.
The spy pulled up a file out of her bag, but for a split second, Steve thought he’d seen a brown piece of paper in there. When she coughed, all his attention was on her. Natasha lay the brown file on her lap, which clearly spelled Bucky’s full name. There was a little smile the two shared, but she quickly looked down again.
“You don’t want to see this, but you should.” Her petite finger pressed the play button on her phone. Was this a video?
“I didn’t have enough time to decrypt and transfer the files from their database, so I just recorded it.” The screen was dark and nothing happened, no sounds or anything else appeared. On the bottom, numbers marked the recording date. It had been yesterday, in the evening. Sam eyed the two through the back mirror. He hoped Steve would be fine. Suddenly, something seemed to move, although barely anything was visible on the screen. Glass shattered, steam swirled around some container.
“Nat, what is this?”
Lights turned on, lights Steve had seen before. A dark silhouette stood before a tube. The cryofreeze tube containing James Buchanan Barnes. Steve couldn’t make out who the silhouette was.
Natasha’s fingers appeared on the screen, she knew what was gonna happen. The recorded version of her forwarded the next half an hour since the few things that happened took time. The stranger took the unconscious man out of his restraints. Barnes only had one arm, he was helpless. In his frozen state, he wouldn’t be able to harm anyone.
Steve couldn’t watch or listen to the ten words spelled out in clean Russian. He couldn’t stand the angry grunts from his friend or the panting of the Winter Soldier, who couldn’t fight. This was a hopeless situation. They could hear Natasha repeating words in Russian while shakily recording.
His eyes brimmed with tears. Not again. He prayed it wasn’t real, that maybe all of this was another nightmare, but he wasn’t waking up. This was real. This was the cruel truth.
The Winter Soldier still struggled with getting up but nodded at the directive he’d received.
“Get out of here,” Natasha translated.
Just then, the main lights turned on, revealing an angry Wanda. Clint came rushing in too, with a nocked arrow. Red streaks of energy surged through the air. Wanda did well, wrapping them around the intruder, entering his mind. The latter stood still when she had him in her grip, but suddenly, her expression turned from triumphant to worried.
The intruder just shook it all off, moving away from Bucky, and attacked. He was fast and strong, the way he gripped her by the arm and threw her into Clint proved his strength. Every single movement was bestowed with purpose and in a way, full of grace, deadly grace. His hands pulled out knives, whirling them around, slashing into Wanda’s arm, making her sink to the ground. Clint attacked, firing arrows, but turned to blocking strike after strike in close combat. The attacker clearly knew what he was doing. He did quick turns and delivered strong kicks, keeping Wanda down and Clint out of reach.
Bucky groaned in the background, still thawing. They got him out too fast, they had ignored the instructions in the little red manual for the Winter Soldier.
Clint received a lash from the sharp blades as well and yowled in pain. He fell but reached for his bow. When he scanned the room for his target, nobody was there. He wanted to check on Barnes but was pressed into the ground once more. The attacker jumped onto him from above. He had pulled himself under the ceiling and attacked again.
Only when Scott and a bunch of highly armed guards entered the room, the unknown asset returned to Bucky, whispering another word in his ear. Natasha whimpered in the background.
“No,” Steve whispered, almost breathless. “Don’t make him-” But Bucky fell to the ground, completely knocked out. He didn’t attack and Steve wasn’t sure if losing consciousness was any better. He gasped. What had they done to him?
The attacker threw a knife at the guards, hitting one of them right between the eyes. While everyone was distracted by the spazzing agent, another window shattered. Now, they shot at the intruder, but he was already gone. He’d jumped out of the window, from a height incredibly far up. Too high up for any soldier without safety ropes.
Everyone in the video rushed to the window front, but there was nothing else but the local vegetation down there. Disappointment was plastered onto everyone’s face.
Clint crawled to Bucky.
“He’s breathing,” the archer choked with a hand on Barnes’ neck, the other rubbing his red throat. The video ended there.
Steve didn’t know what to feel. He was boiling inside, a raw anger blocked any rational thought. Something cracked.
“Steve! Stop!” He looked up, then at his hand, right around a crushed door grip. His head fell back into the headrest. What was he supposed to do? Could it get any worse? He was already planning the way back to Wakanda when Natasha spoke up, her voice sounding broken and hesitant.
“These files I extracted from HYDRA in Paris document that Project Limestone, whatever that is, was a success. Seems like HYDRA is busy behind the scenes. Unfortunately, they had a mole in Wakanda. He confirmed that the Winter Soldier left Wakanda. He’s gone, Steve. He left.”
The blonde was silent. A war was raging within him, a war almost tearing him in half. He wondered what was left to be ripped apart. But the fire of guilt and sadness burned everything, the hot flames licked at his heart. What is my hearts’ good for when the only one who had understood it since we were little is always taken from me.
London
Twenty-five pairs of eyes were directed at Janet Henderson, who stood in the middle of a mission control room. Twenty-six if you counted in the two hateful eyes of Colin Whittaker, who glared at her and wasn’t discreet about it either, getting into her space on purpose.
“This is a pathetic joke, at best,” Whittaker turned around, using the voice-activation system. “Check access for Henderson, Janet Annie.”
She frowned at that, at the way he used her middle name to taunt her, but she kept her conflict internal, he could spit and hate all he wanted, but she’d sworn not to give him any satisfaction.
“Access confirmed for Henderson, Janet Annie,” the computer answered.
“You’re such a conceited little brat,” Colin spat.
“Oh yeah? Tell me something that’s not printed on my name tag, Colin. Task force leader. I’m just doing my job here. You’re the only one who’s unprofessional about it.”
“You should’ve stayed out of this. Crawl back into Kinney’s lap.”
She sent him a harsh glare, walking right past him and his furious ego, to examine all the data collected on the big screen.
Since neither of them was keen on talking to each other, she organized herself a briefing with Whittaker’s assistant. Just when she’d reached the supervisor’s monitor, Colin pulled his assistant, Adam, back by the arm. They conversed in whispers and finally, Adam nodded, returning to her. He didn’t mention what Whittaker had decided to share with him and she just rolled her eyes at Colin’s childishness.
The situation was simple. Rogers and Wilson had appeared out of their little hiding hole, wherever that had been, only to go to Paris, just like whatever anonymous informant Colin had dug up had predicted. The unit stationed at Gare du Nord hadn’t returned completely. The CIA had buried at least four valuable men, which led everyone to believe that they weren’t only dealing with Rogers and Wilson, but also someone else who seemed to contact the two superheroes, if you could even call them that. Probably not. Criminals worked fine.
After the train station disaster, where the CIA had lost all three targets, there had been another incident in the metropolis’s outer business district, nearby a hotel, but the agency, still tending its wounds from earlier, couldn’t arrive fast enough and the two criminals, Rogers and Wilson, slipped through their fingers once again. The unknown third target, well, unknown status.
“Do we know of any injuries, any disadvantages that might slow them down?”
“No, Ma’am. Nothing.”
Henderson huffed. Adam had hesitated a good second too long, but she ignored it. Of course, he’d be teaming up with Whittaker and wasn’t keen on sharing their intel. Janet didn’t like this, but this was just one of the things you had to endure in this job. Her fingers slid over the photos of Gare du Nord.
“What is this?,” she pointed at a crater in the upper level’s floor.
“They used a grenade to shake us off,” Adam stated, turning around to gather some report. “Obviously, they realized we were after them and panicked. Turns out Captain America doesn’t like to be chased.”
“Well, what did he expect?”
An agent used a clicker signal to call the supervisors to his monitor. “We found the license plate of a suspicious car close to the hotel in Paris. It seems to be the car Steven Rogers used to escape from the city.”
Janet focused on the screens, following the car in the video footage, watching the agent clear up the car’s license plate.
“Good,” she said. “Find the car, send a search warrant to Interpol, this is gonna go much faster with them in the boat. Check-” Whittaker stepped in right then, cutting her off mercilessly. He closed the email program the agent had opened.
“Read the mission parameters, Henderson. No Interpol. This stays just between our two units.”
She nodded, hesitantly, not failing to notice how tense Colin was - was that just his hateful attitude towards her or stress? To read him had never come hard to her, despite her co-workers stating how this man was just a riddle never to be solved. But they didn’t know him. Didn’t know what made him boil. But now, he wasn’t boiling, Janet certainly did not feel a storm brewing with him anymore.
From a distance, she promised herself to keep an eye on Colin Whittaker, because she’d already witnessed him pulling Adam to the side twice now and with every look at his mobile phone, he twirled the reading glasses in his hands faster. Sure, she remembered Colin as a person who occasionally got stressed by the intense parts of his job, but she’d never guessed he showed that disposition at work. Janet smiled. She might have an upper hand and yes, she would most definitely use Colin’s weaknesses against him. Especially if he actually intended to run this operation without her.
Merge the units. Janet snorted. That sounded so much easier when all she looked at was Ruben and not Colin.
“What is Rogers doing? Do we even know why he suddenly decided to reappear?,” she asked.
“Well, if we knew that, we wouldn’t be standing here anymore, Jan.”
“I’ll get to it, then.” Turning more annoyed by the second, Janet stepped over to her own assistant, Neesa, who’d been with her almost since the beginning, a kind woman with a sharp mind. “Could you get me everything we know about Rogers and his assembly of hero friends starting at the JCT Center in Berlin?”
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
Again, Whittaker interrupted and Janet cursed on the inside. She wasn’t going to break her promise, wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerable again, but damn, he did make sure to be an extraordinary pain in the ass.
“What are you doing, Jan!?”
“My job. I’m analyzing our targets. Old-school, you should know how that works, Colin.”
“We’re past that. Pay attention if you really need to come barging in while I’m in the middle of a damn operation.”
“Well, obviously you didn’t do it good enough. Or we wouldn’t be standing here anymore.” She smirked at his face. That was a storm. Now, she got him seething. And she hadn’t even needed to bring up the bad stuff. He clenched his jaw and put one hand to his hip, like he always did when he was angry. His nostrils flared.
“Why do you always feel the need to undermine my authority, Janet, huh? Why do you always need to trump all I do? Can you just - for once - leave me and my work alone?” A small shove reached her, but Janet wasn’t afraid. He wouldn’t hurt her, not physically. Not his style. He was way too intellectual for that. But she wouldn’t let him.
“You’re never gonna get rid of me, Colin, you should really now that by now.” And with that, she left him in the middle of the operational center, with all agents secretly staring from behind their monitors.
“Get back to it!,” he bellowed and sent a furious look through the room that was clearly meant for her. The redhead smiled. She definitely had the upper hand here. This was her mission and Colin shouldn’t have taken what was hers. This time, she wouldn’t allow it.
“Collect the data,” she told Neesa, who had waited patiently, “tell me when you have everything. We’ll figure this out together. Don’t tell anyone, but here’s the key for the good coffee machine in Room H-8.”
Neesa grinned and left with a wink. The coffee in the main center truly sucked. Colin was back on his phone, giving it a furious glare.
Suddenly, his head shot up. “Something is happening in Brussels, people. Stop whatever you’re doing and check the incoming data, and get me surveillance for Hotel Beukenhout, right now!”
Brussels
Brussels was way quieter than Paris, but a busy city nonetheless. Unfortunately, Steve missed most of the breathtaking architecture. He did stare out of the window quite a bit, but all the colors washed together into a rainy gray haze, as if a painter had smudged life itself with a single brush stroke. Nat and Sam had conversed silently during the drive, but his ears had been numb to the words captured within the gentle rumbling of the car.
Suddenly, a familiar, soothing scent hit his nose and when a body leaned against his side, a sigh escaped him. He looked up, meeting Natasha’s eyes. She looked fragile now, with her face turning soft by the way her eyebrows and eyes moved, always following his. They had been close in the past, close enough to hug and comfort each other, which was why Steve appreciated the young woman crawling into his lap. Relief washed over him when his arms wound around her back, when her cheek touched his chest, where the sadness had stung his heart. With him, the woman changed into a girl, a girl that knew too much of pain and death. With every single of her calm breaths, the bitterness melted away, new hope sprouted.
“I missed you,” he whispered after a tear hit red hair.
“Do you want to go home, Rogers?”
“You know, you’re not just a friend. You and me, we are home.”
Natasha nodded softly, noticing the warmth spreading in her heart. Home had never been a place, after all.
“What do you want, then?” His blue eyes met hers, green and hopeful, looking at him with a kindness that was reserved for only a few chosen people.
“We can’t go after him. You have, before, and he’ll be just as careful now. I want to make HYDRA fall. Make sure they can’t control anyone anymore.”
She smiled, a genuine smile. “We’re on the right way then.”
Sam had already been exchanging recent information with Lomawu, who was in Europe by now, affirming support in every way to find Barnes and covering up the recent damage in Paris. Neither of the two sides had information on the Wakandan mole though and the head of the SIW seemed disappointed, understandably, but promised to have their backs in terms of keeping their presence secret to the public.
The rain had only temporarily stopped, judging from the dirty clouds hiding all the light from those people who prayed for sun. Puddles still littered the cobblestone pathways through the city and most cafe’s guests had moved inside. Steve and Nat were already holding hands, all according to the plan, and Sam stood before the hotel that matched the address the Russian spy had pulled up.
“This guy living here - what exactly did he do to earn a visit?,” Sam crossed his arms, and curiously checked out the façade of the building. It looked old and had been crafted with finesse. What interested him more, however, was the number of windows in this place. If the plan didn’t work, there was no way to find out which of the many rooms that guy inhabited. No way he’d come up with, anyway.
“The file states Dr. Aaron Vreis was involved in Barnes’ missions and handlers. You can’t seriously believe he’s out of the game just because he switched residence. Once you’re in, you never really get out.”
Steve looked at her. “This is the first time I wish you were lying.”
“Okay,” Sam interrupted the tragedy starting to creep through Steve’s mind once again, “when do we go in?”
The redhead pulled on the beanie she’d brought and looked around until she spotted a businessman heading into the same hotel. Sneaking past him, her skillful hands added a piece of paper onto the back of his coat. The man didn’t even notice and she returned when he stepped into the entrance of the building.
“What’s that for?,” Sam wondered, but grinned when he realized there had been print on the paper. “A distraction?”
“No one will pay attention to us now, you’ll see. Remember though, there are three cameras almost right behind the door. If you move at the right time, you can avoid all of them. Let’s go.”
Steve had pulled the hood of a new-bought hoodie over his head, making his blonde hair and his neck disappear. Maybe this could really work, he thought when grabbing Natasha’s hand that was much smaller than his, but just as calloused. The small gesture - Steve knew that nowadays, holding hands didn’t mean as much as it did in his time, but it stirred memories in him, memories of a strong hand with red nail polish and it was almost as if he could hear the music they played back then in his head. Even the interior design of the hotel lobby reminded him of the past.
He sighed a little louder than intended and Natasha gave his hand a reassuring squeeze that pulled him back. He tried to smile at her, but knew she’d always figure out when he lied. It was a good thing the lobby of the hotel invited guests to sit down in the large chairs. Steve welcomed the noises of the background, it would mask some of his own distinct voice, reducing the risk of being recognized.
They followed the man in the line up to the counter, where a young brunette was booking him a room. When the couple stepped forward, the hotel employee’s eyes were indeed focused on the paper on the businessman’s back instead of Steve and Nat. A hint of amusement crept over the woman’s lips before turning towards her new customers.
“Hi,” Natasha smiled sweetly and Steve was still stunned by how easily she made everyone believe her lies and tricks, “I’d like to call Mr. Vreis, please.”
The hotel staff woman nodded, but as soon as she had typed the room number into the phone, her eyes swayed back to the businessman who still hadn’t noticed anything. At this point, Sam had already done his part, because Natasha’s phone started ringing.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, sounding genuinely surprised, “that’s him calling. Thanks.”
The employee put the phone back, not suspecting anything. Just when the two turned around, the brunette called them back. The nervousness grew in Steve. They’d lied. Did she notice? She looked him right in the eye, her forehead creased.
“I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve seen you before.” Shit. What was he supposed to say? Nat squeezed his hand. He swallowed hard.
“Je travaille comme mannequin en sous- vêtements. Vous m’avez probablement vu dans les publicités.” Natasha pressed a kiss to his cheek that blushed crimson red the second he turned away from the hotel employee.
“An underwear model, alright,” Nat giggled, “too bad I haven’t seen you in any commercials yet. Sometimes I really wanna know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”
Steve just huffed, still a little red. “I had to come up with something.”
“Oh yeah, that was definitely something.” She chuckled and Sam joined in when she told him what cover Steve had made up at gunpoint.
Their hands were still intertwined when the three of them stepped into the elevator.
“Where are we headed, doll?”, Steve smirked at that, because this time, Nat actually blushed a tiny bit. She shoved him in the chest, all playful, before hitting the buttons for level 1.
“He’s in room 138.”
“Room Service! Clean up,” Nat announced while knocking on the door that unmistakably said 138. It opened a few seconds later, but after the man behind it realized who was standing in front of him, he almost slammed it close, were it not for Steve’s foot in the way. They all marched in.
Despite all the anger rushing back and forth through Steve’s veins, slashing against his blood vessels like hungry waves, he stayed calm when facing the doctor. This man had dealt Bucky like a dog. He’d sold him to the highest bidder. Steve could’ve made him pay for that on the spot. His blue eyes were steely and his jaw hard, but he kept it to himself. To be honest, he would’ve loved to give the doctor a different kind of greeting. For the mistake of having decided to go with HYDRA. Even if that was a long time ago. For having exploited humans. For the war. For mistreating Bucky. For him. He was way beyond respectful approaches by now.
Sam had noticed his change of mood, probably because Steve’s fists were clenched and super white by the high pressure. Sam appeared behind the super-soldier, putting a hand on his shoulder, reminding him of the plan.
When Steve released his tension and Nat was about to start the interrogation based on the files she held in her hand, the doctor spoke up himself.
“Steven Rogers. I heard so much about you. Hero, Avenger, Criminal. Explain to me how thief fits on the list.” He seemed to get more comfortable again, with the strong soldier out of reach. Don’t talk to him. Don’t give him what he wants.
Natasha replied. “We’re here for the things you do know.”
“I left HY-”
“Yeah, not that part. Cutting all your ties isn’t your thing.”
The doctor straightened his shirt while observing each intruder. His eyes followed Steve’s tense form while the soldier watched him like a hawk.
“Who is giving commands now? Who is at the top of HYDRA’s hierarchy?” Steve’s voice sounded deep and menacing. Sam raised his eyebrows. The doctor shifted in his seat and Natasha spoke up.
“We need details on the last deal concerning the Winter Soldier. You know they freed him.” But his face said otherwise. Maybe he was a good actor. His eyebrows stood high, almost touching the creases on his forehead. “Of course they did,” he mumbled as if that was the most obvious piece of information he’d ever received.
“The used asset is still unidentified. Tell us who it is.”
The silence in the room almost felt unbearable to Steve after Natasha’s clear voice echoed through his mind. There had to be an answer. His eyes flitted back and forth between the Russian and the man, who stared at each other as if challenging the other for battle.
“It’s funny. You all came here for the same thing and now, she’s asking me a question she already knows the answer to and he’s not asking the one question he actually wants answered. So, Mr. Wilson, what do you want to know?”
Sam crossed his arms. “Just answer their questions. We don’t have time for this HYDRA shit.”
She’s asking me a question she already knows the answer to. What did that mean?
Tension built up, within a second, when every eye turned towards the redhead holding the files. Two files. Steve grit his teeth. Had she… kept information to herself? Then, he cursed the doctor’s slyness. This piece of HYDRA was planting distractions in their heads. He was trying to save his ass.
“Where is the Winter Soldier now? Where are they taking him?” That was more of a demand than a question.
“Where he belongs, to his creator. He needs to once again be convinced of his-”
“I’m familiar with HYDRA’s propaganda, doctor. His creator? Zola? We destroyed his database last year.”
“Captain America. You’re running after the wrong thing, failing to understand you already lost. Captain Rogers’ death and his magical blood have been rendered worthless. Zola will be resurrected, Captain.”
That had Steve turning cold for the first time in long, shivers running over his skin everywhere. Zola will be resurrected. At the same time, it stirred a fire in him that roared against the black night, in spite of the darkness closing in on him. He was sitting in that burned down bar again, drinking but not getting drunk, drowning in the pain that the death of his best friend offered until the strongest woman he knew, Peggy Carter, had helped him channel the pain into a greater purpose. I’m not going to stop until all of HYDRA is dead or captured. Even if I have to start all over.
With a fierce swing, he grabbed one of Sam’s handguns and pushed the doctor back and even deeper into the chair. The gun added new motivation to the interview. He saw Natasha flinch but continued.
“Who is resurrecting Zola!?”
Glass clanked, a bullet whizzed past Steve’s head. It dug deep into the doctor’s shoulder. He cried out once, and once again when he hit the ground. The window was still intact.
“Get down!” Steve yelled.
“You brought them here!,” the doctor cursed. He snatched a remote from the ground. In a furious motion, he pressed it, sending a look towards the kitchen. Steve didn’t know what that meant, but he didn’t hear any new shots. Sam however, stared into the kitchen, realizing the kettle was starting to steam. Yellow steam.
“It’s a bomb, get out,” he yelled, shielding Natasha. He got up and ran towards the door.
“Are you insane!?” Steve yelled at the doctor, punching him in the nose, but pulled him out as well. Another shot fired at them, but it didn’t hit the soldier.
“I thought you’d come to kill me,” the doctor argued but Steve ignored him. Now, the scent of gasoline hit his nose and he scolded himself for not picking it up earlier.
They rushed out, slamming the door shut and sprinting through the hallways of the hotel before the explosion happened. Natasha screamed for people to get out of the area as well and they made it just in time. They found a fire escape and quickly moved out, rushing to their car. Glass and stone boomed behind them. Everything shattered and the ground shook.
“Where do we go? Give me directions, guys!” Sam demanded when he exited the city.
Dr. Vreis had passed out on the run to the car, the exertion had overwhelmed him. After all, he had a bullet in his shoulder. Blood was everywhere on his shirt, all messy and disgusting.
“Germany,” Natasha directed.
“What do we want in Germany?”
“Get away - duh! We can go light speed on their highway, birdbrain. Let’s go!”
Steve and Natasha took care of digging the bullet out of the unconscious man on the backseat whose blood was messing up the car seats too, unfortunately. Sam had to go through some narrow and bumpy streets, which complicated the whole process of stitching, but they couldn’t risk being spotted by the police.
Germany wasn’t too far from Belgium. On the Autobahn, everything just flew by. They all relaxed. No one was going to find them today.