Just A Moment

 "I ..."  The poor man seems unable to say any more.  Wanda looks at her team mates uncertainly.  Bucky just looks miserable.  Clint and Natasha exchange worried, tight-lipped frowns.

 "We need to get him out of here," Rhodey decides.  "Maybe one us could carry ..."

 "No!" gasps the man, eyes wide.  His right hand swoops up to clutch at his chest.

 "Shit," breathes Tony as he retracts the suit's helmet and gloves.   

"Language," Cap chastises as they move forward in unison to help.

"Friday, full scans," Tony orders softly.   "Contact the airport authorities.  Tell them we need urgent medical assistance."  A few seconds later they all hear Friday's response.

"They won't send anyone Boss.  They're worried whoever they send will wind up caught in the middle of a battlefield."  Tony looks across at Steve. 

"Are they wrong?" he asks.

Cap tilts his chin up,

"I don't want to fight you Tony.  But I'm not standing down."  The two sides begin to subtly shift into opposing lines.

"Why?" 

When they all look at him the old man gestures between the two teams and repeats, "Why?"

"Sir, it's complicated," Steve begins.  "Some government bodies are ..."

"Bullshit," Tony snaps.  "You want to know how we got to this point?"  He jabs a thumb in Bucky's direction.  "Him.  The metal-armed bandit over there.  He's why."  Steve frowns.

"Tony, that's not true." 

"It is from where I'm standing," Stark asserts.  "The UN headquarters in Vienna gets blown up.  Dozens of people killed and injured.  And Barnes is the prime suspect.  We're here because we've got orders to bring him, and now you and Wilson, in.  Are you going to allow that?"

"Bucky didn't do it," Steve insists.

"Then why did he run?" T'Challa growls stepping forward, vibranium claws unsheafed.

"He had no choice.  The Bucharest police had orders to shoot on sight,"  Steve says desperately.  "No questions asked."   

"Accepting whoever told you that was telling the truth," Tony says slowly, "and I don't because police don't normally go in for cold blooded murder - you had time to get to Bucharest.  That means you had time to ask for help.  Why didn't you call me?  Why didn't you call Nat?  We could have ..."

"The Accords Tony," Steve grinds out in a hard, tired voice.  "You signed the accords.  If they'd ordered you to stay out of it ..."

"You think I would have stood back and let them murder him?" Tony asks quietly. 

"I think they want Bucky dead," Steve responds.  Tony shakes his head.

"Barnes is enhanced.  Dealing with enhanced individuals, the extraordinary, it's what the Avengers are supposed to do."

"And if they'd said no?" Steve asks.

"I'd have found a way," Tony insists. 

"I couldn't take that risk," Steve states, sad but unapologetic.  

"As one of the people who did bring Barnes in alive," Rhodey drawls, "I can say our job would been a hell of a lot easier if you'd given us a heads up before everything hit the fan."

"Berlin," T'Challa says quietly.  "Barnes was safe.  In custody.  He still ran.  And you helped him."

"That wasn't Bucky's choice," Steve states.  "He was deliberately triggered."

"Triggered?" Natasha questions sharply. 

"The man who was speaking with him, the one who was supposed to be a UN psychologiest.  He had a book."

"The red book?" Natasha asks, looking at Bucky.

"Da," he whispers hoarsely.

"Nat?" Tony looks at the widow visibly unsettled.

"Part of the Winter Soldier's conditioning was a series of code words in a red book.  He was conditioned, brainwashed, to obey whoever read them out in the correct order."

"You knew?" Steve gasps.  "How?"  Natasha shakes her head, her face expressionless. 

"Drop it Cap."  Steve stares at Clint but the archer keeps his eyes trained on the opposing team.  Rogers gives a reluctant nod.

"Wait a minute!" Tony interrupts.  "You're saying a UN psychiatrist had this book and that he deliberately triggered Barnes into escaping and going full on Assassin's Creed.  Why?  Why would he do that?  How would even know how to do that?"

"Like I was trying to tell you before," Steves sighs, "there are five more Winter Soldiers out there.  They were kept at the same facility as Bucky.  This guy wanted to ask him where the facility is.  We think he's going there now.  We have to stop him."  Tony and Natasha exchange another look.  She gives an infinitesimal shrug.  He turns to stare at Steve.

"Why are we just hearing about this now?"

"The Accords..." Steve begins then jerks violently backwards as a man in a red suit and a frankly bizarre silver helmet springs into existence right in front of him.  Stark raises a repulsor and the Widow suddenly has two knives in her grasp.  T'Challa hisses and back flips out of striking distance.  The man touches a button on the side of the helmet and the faceplate pops up.

"That's a pretty good question Cap," he blurts out, slightly breathless. 

"Who the hell are you?" Tony gasps.

"Antman," the guy answers, his chest puffing out a little. Stark considers for a moment then turns to Sam Wilson.

"The guy from last year?  The one who handed you your ..."

"Yeah," Falcon grinds out.

"So Cap, the question?" Antman reminds.  Sam Wilson answers instead, his voice firm but regretful,

"Scott, they signed the Accords.  They'd have to wait for approval before they can do anything and there just isn't time."

"There was time enough to come get me," the man notes."

"And to pull me in.  And have me fetch Wanda," Clint adds thoughtfully.

"I wanted to help," Wanda says indignantly.  "I will not let fear stop me from doing what is right."

"How do you know what is right?" Natasha asks curiously. 

"I trust Steve." Wanda answers.

"Your powers are amazing," a very young, still breaking voice pipes up.  Wanda looks around and spots Spiderman standing beside the old man.  He gives her a little wave.  "Truly amazing," he continues.  "The telekinesis alone is just ... " he shakes his head as though words defy him.  "And Captain America is a great leader.  Have you been to his exhibit at the Smithsonian.  It's inspiring.  If you get a chance ... but anyway ... what I'm saying is that you can't just rely on someone else, no matter who they are, to tell you what's right or wrong.  The power is yours.  That means the responsibility is yours too.  You have to ask questions."

"Did you?" Wanda asks pointedly.

"Not as many as I'd like," the webslinger concedes.  "But I've been following the news about the Accords pretty closely because, well it affects me.  It affects everyone with powers.  And I read through them again on the plane flight over and asked Mr Stark and Ms Romanoff lots of questions  They're not perfect.  They really aren't.  But they're a start.  And we can keep working on them.  I mean, all this shows changes need to be made right.  But we still need something.  Something outside of just ourselves.  Just because we're more powerful than other people doesn't mean we're not answerable to them." 

"And yet you wear a mask," Wanda notes sardonically.

"Yeah, I do," the young man concedes.  "But not for me.  For the people I love.  To protect them."  She stares at him thoughtfully.

"Ms Maximoff," T'Challa enunciates calmly, "Wakandans died in Lagos." 

Wanda flinches.  Clint's face darkens.  T'Challa continues unabashed. 

"I do not say this to hurt you Ms Maximoff.  It is fact.  Two of the people who died were good friends.  I have talked with the families of all of the dead.  They have questions.  Perhaps the Avengers were right to be there, in secret and uninvited.  Perhaps in the heat of battle, there was nothing any of you could have done to prevent loss of life.  But when your actions affect others, those people have rights too.  They have the right to be heard.  They have the right to ask what happened.  And they have the right to refuse your 'help' entirely."

"So," Stark says slowly, "getting back to right here and right now."  He looks at Captain America, "You think this guy's going after five additional frozen Winter Soldiers?"

Rogers nods.

"I do."

"Friday?" Tony says thoughtfully.  "Anything in the dumped Hydra files to corroborate the existence of more Winter Soldiers?"  A few seconds tick by. 

"Not that I've seen Boss, but I can't say for sure.  Over sixty years worth of material was dumped, much of it still encryped.  It would take weeks maybe months to check them all and even then I couldn't be sure."  Stark stares at Cap considering.

"We could narrow it right down with a timeframe.  When did this happen?  What year?"  Steve exchanges a furtive glance with Bucky. Natasha's eyes narrow.

"I can't say," he says quietly.  Then more firmly, "You're just going to have to trust me."

"No, he doesn't." 

It takes a few moments for everyone to realise who has spoken.  The elderly gentlemen, who seems a lot calmer, looks between Ironman and Captain America and gives an expressive shrug.

"I'm just saying, he doesn't have to trust you to resolve this."

"Sir, with respect ..." Steve begins.

"You need to trust him," the man states. 

The Captain pulls up short. 

"He's right," Natasha states.  "We'll handle the Winter Soldiers.  There are numerous provisions in the Accords dealing with situations of iminent peril where there isn't time to get prior approval.  We could make a pretty good argument this falls under one of those."  Team Cap doesn't respond.  Natasha looks between Steve and Sam.  "You did read the Accords?"  Steve swallows,

"With Peggy's funeral, and then them going after Bucky ..."  Tony closes his eyes and shakes his head.

"You need to turn yourselves in," he orders.  "Clint, Wanda and Ant Guy haven't done anything yet.  They can just go home.  But you three," he gestures at Steve, Sam and Bucky, "you're twelve hours away from a kill order.  You need to turn yourselves in now."

"Tony," Steves voices is soft and a little desperate, "they want him dead."  Tony bites his lip considering.

"It's Thunderbolt Ross that's the problem.  I'm digging his political grave as we speak but it's going to take time to do it right and make it stick so ..."  Stark gives a small nod clearly having reached a conclusion " ... we go around him.  We go his cuter, less demonic namesake, Everett.  You surrender of your own free will.  You co-operate fully.  And I get you a whole tribe of lawyers to make sure you're rights are respected and your version gets properly investigated.  Nat goes with you because there isn't anyone better at getting to the truth and I'll sic Friday on this guy's cyber trail."

"If you'd told us what had happened straight away," Nat says, allowing her irritation to show through, "he'd probably be in custody right now."  Rogers opens his mouth then shuts it again.  She's right.

"Mr Stark."  The voice is precise and unemotional.  Tony turns to the Black Panther.

"Your Highness?"

"What if we let them go and they do not turn themselves in.  What if they run.  Again."

"I ain't gonna run," Barnes says softly.  All eyes turn to look at him.  He meets T'Challa's eyes.

"I've been running a long time," he says softly.  He looks at Steve.  "I don't wanna run any more.  And if all this is down to me, what happens to me, then you can take me in.  I ain't gonna fight you."  T'Challa takes off his mask.

"Did you kill my father?"  Bucky shakes his head.

"No your highness, I did not."  The young king considers.

"Would you know if you had?"  Bucky sighs.

"I ... lose time if they ... but I ... remember things.  I ain't lost any time since Washington.  I was in Bucharest when the bombing happened.  I didn't kill your father."  T'Challa nods.   

"Then Ms Romanoff and I will escort you and the others so that you can surrender yourselves to the German police.  Like Mr Stark, I am in a better than average position to ensure you are properly treated."

"Buck," Steve says softly.

"I'm not worth where this is headed Stevie," Bucky insists.  "And I've got more than enough blood on my hands.  I'm not running anymore." 

Rogers gives a reluctant nod.

He looks back at Ironman.

"Tony, there are five Winter Soldiers.  If T'Challa and Nat go with Bucky it'll be just you and Rhodey.  You're going to need help."

"Nope," Stark declares.  "You've got to turn yourself in and sort this out Cap."

"Hey, I could ..." Spiderman begins. 

"Absolutely not!" Tony all but shouts.  He bites his lip and turns to face Spiderman.  "Kid, you are awesome.  But I never should have got you involved in this mess.  We've got to do this by the book.  Which means you're going home."

"Five on two are not great odds Stark," Sam Wilson reasons. "Steve and I can help then turn ourselves in a few hours later."

"Five on three," a cultured British voice gently corrects as Vision floats down to join the discussion.  He exchanges a long, sad look with Wanda.

"Actually, it's going to be more like five on fifteen," Stark notes.  "I can't call out the full Iron Legion without tipping off Ross but I've got legionnaires tucked away in a number of discrete locations.  Friday can have a dozen meet us there.  Once you tell us where there is."

There was a few moments heavy silence then Steve says,

"Siberia."  Tony nods.

"Thanks Cap.  Give the details to Nat and she can forward them on the way."  He helmet extends up and closes around his head and face.  Then it retracts again.  He turns to the old man.

"What's your name?"  The elderly gentleman sits a little straighter.

"Luca Silberzunge." 

"Thank you Mr Silberzunge," Tony says solemnly, "I, we, owe you a great debt."  The old man nods gravely.  Ironman helmet moves back into place and he takes off closely followed by War Machine and Vision.

"Mr Barnes?"  Bucky acknowledges T'Challa with a nod and puts his flesh arm around Steve Rogers.  "C'mon punk.  Time to face the music."  Steve pulls his best friend into a hard hug. 

"To the end of the line Buck."

"To the end of the line Stevie."

Nat walks over to Clint and drops keys into his palm.

"Black mercedes sedan, registration is on the keyring, short stay parking.  Say hi to Laura and the kids for me."  Clint swallows.  It suddenly dawns on him just how differently things could have gone today. 

"Thanks Nat."  She quirks a little smile at him then turns to join T'Challa in leading the fugitives towards the hanger containing the Quin Jet."

"Ah?" Spiderman says uncertainly.  "What do I ...?"

"Come on kid," Hawkeye says amused.  "You can come with us."

"It's just," the boy says uncertainly, "I've got school Monday and without a plane ... "

"Oh yeah, I've got to meet my probation officer tomorrow ..." Lang chips in.

"Great, just great," Clints huffs.  "Don't worry.  We'll work something out.  Stark's private jet's can't be too far away."  They start heading towards one of the outer buildings when Spiderman freezes.

"Mr Silberzunge!"

"Oh shit," Clint exclaims shamefaced.  "Mr Silberzunge!  Sir?"   The tray of the baggage truck is empty.  The old man is no where to be seen.

"Sir?" Peter calls anxiously.  "Mr Silberzunge!"  He shoots a web and swings onto the top of a nearby tanker.  "I can't see him!"  Hawkeye climbs up the ladder on the side of the tanker to join the kid.  He scans the surrounding area and finally spots the old man over a hundred metres away opening a door on the side one of buildings.

"There!" 

As Clint calls out Silberzunge turns around to look at them.  Anyone else would have trouble making out the man's features from that distance but Clint's eyesight is sharp.  Sharp enough to see the man smile.  Or perhaps more appropriately, smirk.  His eyes dance with mischief and as he pulls the door closed behind him a strange green light spills out.

"Did you see ..." Spiderman starts to ask.

"Yeah," Clint murmurs.  "Yeah I did."