Chapter 86
Above the Triskelion, Washington, D.C.
September 2011
Steve hadn’t been this exhausted since the Battle of New York.
His muscles ached, he was bleeding in five places, and his suit was torn. His shield arm twinged every time he raised it and he was pretty sure he’d sprained his right ankle. But he had to keep going. Sam was busy getting Bucky safely to the last helicarrier. Bucky would replace the last chip. And they’d succeed.
I can be a hero as Steve Rogers, too.
He sprinted around a corner, shooting out the cameras as he went, as he’d been doing for ten minutes now.
No agents coming.
He took advantage of the reprieve and slumped against the wall. Heart and breathing rates slowed as he recovered. Steve closed his eyes and counted to sixty.
His only chance was to get to the dorsal deck and hijack a chopper or a jet.
Above the Triskelion
September 2011
“You’ve reached three thousand feet!” Agent Carter said tightly. “They’re targeting!”
Bucky sprinted along the catwalk.
“Wilson, I need help,” he said as a Hydra patrol rounded the next corner.
He dove forward beneath their hail of bullets and popped upright directly in front of them. Bucky disabled the first man with a throat chop, took his rifle, and started shooting the rest, using the first agent as a human shield. In close quarters like this, it was a bloodbath. But more were coming. He could get through them but not on time, not alone–
“Barnes, duck!”
He hit the deck instantly.
Gunfire raked the Hydra agents pouring into the open glass-bottomed atrium. Wilson’s wings had plenty of space in here. He swung back over the catwalks.
“Go, I’ve got your back,” he said.
Barnes saluted him once and took off running. Long strides that carried him through a minefield of bodies. Rifle in his right arm. He put a few bullets into anyone still moving as he ran so he didn’t get there only to find hostiles at his back.
Wilson kept fighting. Bucky heard him shooting and the shouts of the Hydra agents getting distracted by the guy in the wingsuit.
The console came into view.
Bucky put on a burst of speed and slammed into its glass casing rather than take the time to come to a stop on his own. The rows of chips slid up into view.
“Five seconds.”
He grabbed the one Maria had shown them on her diagrams, pulled it out, tossed it away, and slammed one of the replacements into its slot.
There was an agonizing pause.
“Did it work?” he demanded, turning.
“Got it!” Carter said triumphantly. He heard the sound of typing over the comms as he started running back and away from the console. “Changing targets…”
This part of the plan had been Wilson’s idea: make the helicarriers target each other. They’d go down in flame.
“I have to do this now or they might be able to take back control,” Carter said urgently. “You guys need to get off those things now .”
“Barnes, get your ass over here!” Wilson shouted.
Bucky picked out the silhouette of his wings against the glass, down by the hole they’d torn coming in.
“Steve–”
Bucky started running.
“Steve, are you out?” Wilson said.
No response.
“Steve!” Bucky said insistently.
“Helicarriers targeting. Get out,” Carter said.
Wilson banked aggressively up toward Bucky.
“No, get Steve!” Bucky shouted.
He tried to dodge, but Wilson was too adept with the Falcon suit, and tackled Bucky straight off the catwalk. The wings snapped out and strained to heave their weight toward the hole in the glass.
“I can’t get to him in time,” Wilson growled. “He’d want me to save you.”
They shot through the gap. Broken glass fell around them, and then Wilson pulled to the side, wings pumping desperately. He dove, racing for the edge of the lake, trying to buy time and speed from gravity.
Bucky twisted in his grip. Tried to focus on the helicarrier Steve was still on.
The helicarriers opened fire.