Red, White & Blue | Bucky x Reader

Chapter Ten

"What the hell is going on?" I ask as we wander through backstreets and alleyways, trying to avoid crowds of people. "What happened with Pierce?"

"I don't know," Steve answers. "But Pierce told me that Batroc was hired anonymously to attack the 'Lemurian Star,' and that they have reason to believe that Fury hired the pirates as a cover to acquire and sell classified intelligence..."

I stay silent for a moment, taking in the new information. "I can see Fury hiring the pirates... But selling classified intelligence? He wouldn't do that."

"I don't think so either," Steve assures me. "Even Pierce has a hard time believing it... But he doesn't think it was an accident that Fury was in my apartment the night he died."

"God..." I breathe. "He doesn't think we killed him, does he?"

"No, I don't think so," Steve assures me. "But I'm sure he thinks we're hiding something..."

"The flash drive," I state. "Pierce must be looking for it."

Steve nods. "I think so too. We need to find out what's on it, maybe it'll tell us what's really going on."

"We need to find different clothes first," I correct. "We can't wander around in our uniforms, and we can't go home... It's the first place they'll look for us."

"Come on," Steve says, ushering me forward. "I have an idea."

After borrowing some clothes from some unsuspecting athletes at the nearby gym, Steve and I slowly make our way through the hospital, our hoods up and our heads low, trying not to draw attention to ourselves.

Reaching the vending machine, I'm astonished to see that the packs of bubble gum are gone, the flash drive along with them. I look to Steve, silently questioning what we're going to do now, when Natasha's reflection suddenly appears in the glass. She blows a bubble with the gum she's chewing, smiling smugly.

Steve grabs her arm, backing her into the empty room across the hall and pulling down his hood. "Where is it?"

"Safe," Natasha states.

"Do better," Steve orders.

"Where did you get it?" Natasha asks.

"Why would I tell you?" Steve replies.

Natasha carefully reads Steve's face, picking up the tiny cues in his expression. "Fury gave it to you. Why?"

Steve avoids the question. "What's on it?"

"I don't know," Natasha answers.

"Nat," I cut in, "please, just tell us what you know."

"I know who killed Fury," Natasha admits, finally letting her guard down. "Most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists, the ones who do call him the Winter Soldier. He's credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years."

"So, he's a ghost story," Steve replies.

"No, he's not," I say, staring at the floor as I remember my failed mission long ago. "When I worked for SHIELD before, there was always this shadowy figure lurking around during my missions, always just out of reach... But I did come in contact with him once..."

December 16, 1991.

The chamber door opens, and air returns to my lungs as I slowly open my eyes to find a familiar face greeting me.

"Good evening, Lieutenant Y/l/n," Peggy smiles, her greying hair pulled back from her face.

"Good evening, Director Carter," I smile back, stepping out of the chamber and taking the jacket from her. "What can I do for you?"

Peggy's smile faulters. "We need you to escort Howard and Maria Stark to the airport. It's top priority that they arrive safely."

I nod. "Yes, ma'am."

I walk into the nearby bathroom to put on my tactical uniform before heading down to the garage, where Howard and Maria are waiting. After a pleasant reunion, I get behind the steering wheel as the couple climbs into the backseat.

Nearly thirty minutes later, we drive along a dark, deserted road, surrounded by only trees and the occasional streetlight.

Suddenly, a single headlight appears behind us, and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach as the motorcyclist approaches our vehicle.

I hear the shot before the bullet hits the front tire, and I lose control of the car, crashing into a streetlight. Still dazed from the impact, I sit up, but seeing the shooter approaching us, I unbuckle my seatbelt and stumble from the car, preparing to attack.

Our assailant's dark hair falls limply around his masked face, and he wears an all-black tactical suit, perfect for a nighttime stealth mission. I raise my handgun, firing multiple rounds at him, but he raises his left arm to deflect the bullets. In the low lighting I see that it's made of metal.

My gun clicks empty and I toss it aside, charging at the masked man. I kick at his knee, attempting to knock him off balance, but he dodges my attack and punches me in the side. I retaliate, throwing punches and kicks as I dodge his attacks, and I manage to hit him in the face, knocking his mask askew.

Before the mask can fall, the assailant lands a clean punch to my temple and pulls out his gun, shooting me in the shoulder. I stumble back from the impact, tripping down the hill and hitting my head as I fall to the ground.

When I regain consciousness, my head is pounding, and I don't remember where I am. Slowly, I sit up, and a sharp pain draws my attention to the open wound in my shoulder. A few moments later, it all comes flooding back to me, and I scramble up the hill in a panic.

The sight at the top brings tears to my eyes. Howard and Maria are slumped in the front seats of the wrecked car as if they died in a car crash, but I know the truth.

Trying to maintain my composure, I pull out my radio. "This is Lieutenant Y/l/n. I need immediate assistance."

"Y/n?" Peggy's voice replies. "Are you alright? You didn't check in."

"I... I failed, Peg," I mutter. "They're both dead."

"Did you see his face?" Steve asks me.

I shake my head. "No, it all happened so fast... I just remember his metal arm."

"And the bullet?" Natasha prompts.

I look at her, knowing she already knows the answer. "Soviet slug, no rifling, untraceable. I still have the scar it left."

I pull back the collar of my shirt to show them the raised, white tissue on the nook of my shoulder.

Natasha pulls up the hem of her shirt to reveal a similar scar on her abdomen. "He shot me too... Going after him is a dead end. I know, I've tried." She pulls the flash drive from her pocket and hands it to Steve. "Like you said, he's a ghost story."

"Well, let's find out what the ghost wants," Steve replies.