Red, White & Blue | Bucky x Reader

Chapter Two

Somewhere over the Indian Ocean, Steve, Natasha, and I stand in the centre of the quinjet, surrounded by the SHIELD STRIKE team as their team leader, Brock Rumlow, provides us with intel about the mission.

"The target is a mobile satellite launch platform, the 'Lemurian Star'," Rumlow explains, pulling up a diagram of the ship on the monitor. "They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them... ninety-three minutes ago."

"Any demands?" Steve asks.

"A billion and a half," Rumlow answers.

"Why so steep?" I question, brows furrowing.

Rumlow's gaze shifts to me. "Because it's SHIELD's."

"So, it's not off-course," I state, rolling my eyes and turning to Natasha, "it's trespassing."

"I'm sure they have a good reason," Natasha defends, her focus not moving from the monitor in front of us.

"I'm getting a little tired of always cleaning up after Fury," I huff.

"Relax," Natasha says, finally glancing over at me. "It's not that complicated."

"How many pirates?" Steve asks Rumlow, trying to get us back on track.

"Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy, Georges Batroc," Rumlow answers, pulling up a photo of a bulky, blond man on the monitor. "Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He's at the top of Interpol's Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy's got a rep for maximum casualties."

"What about the hostages?" I ask him.

"Uh... mostly techs," Rumlow responds, sifting through images of personnel on board the ship. He pulls up an image of a familiar, bald man with olive skin and glasses. "One officer, Jasper Sitwell. They're in the galley."

"What's Sitwell doing on a launch ship?" I mumble.

"Alright, I'm gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc," Steve informs. "Nat, you'll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, Y/n, you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get 'em out. Let's move."

I look at Rumlow to find his dark-brown eyes on me. He's a well-built man, with short, black hair and tanned skin weathered from being out in the field for so many years. Although I've worked with him in the past, there's something off putting about him, but I've always just labeled it as personalities clashing.

"STRIKE, you heard the Cap," Rumlow orders his team. "Gear up."

The team disperses to prepare themselves, and I find myself standing off to the side with Natasha as we gather our gear and weaponry. We wear our black catsuits, the eagle-shaped SHIELD logo on our shoulders, and Natasha pulls on her gauntlets as I push an earpiece into my ear.

Steve walks over to join us, covered from head to toe by his dark blue Kevlar suit with a silver star in the centre of his chest.

Steve lifts his wrist to his face, speaking into the communicator. "Secure channel seven."

"Seven secure," Natasha replies, turning to face him. "Did you do anything fun Saturday night?"

I chuckle softly to myself, pretending to ignore them as I adjust my uniform. Along with inducting us into today's society, Natasha's taken it upon herself to play cupid, constantly trying to find us dates. Thankfully, she spends more time playing matchmaker for Steve than she does with me.

"Well, all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead," Steve sarcastically answers. "So... no, not really."

"Coming up to the drop zone, Cap," the pilot informs him from the cockpit.

"It's too bad though," I tease Steve, patting him on the shoulder as I pass him to grab a parachute. "You have an amazing singing voice."

Steve chuckles, slamming his fist on the hatch button and putting on his helmet. The ramp at the back of the quinjet slowly lowers to reveal the dark, starless sky.

"You know," Natasha says to Steve, "if you ask Kristen out, from Statistics, she'd probably say yes."

"That's why I don't ask," Steve states, strapping his shield to his back before walking to the end of the open ramp.

"Too shy or too scared?" Natasha shouts over the sound of the rushing wind.

"Too busy!" Steve yells back, leaping from the jet and freefalling to the ocean below.

"Was he wearing a parachute?" Rumlow's second in command, Jack Rollins, asks as he stares at the now empty ramp.

"No," Rumlow smiles. "No, he wasn't."

I smirk, shaking my head at Steve's theatrics before buckling the straps of my parachute around me.

"What about you, Y/l/n?" Natasha asks, grabbing her own parachute. "Anyone special?"

I roll my eyes and laugh. I should have known she would turn to me the second Steve was gone.

"I'm not really looking for anything right now," I explain.

Natasha gives me a skeptical look, but says nothing as we move to the end of the ramp. Although she's become one of my closest friends, I haven't told her everything about my past, specifically the part about Bucky, and how I lost him.

Staring out into the night sky, I feel my adrenaline begin to spike, but I take a deep breath and jump.