Misguided Ghosts {A Bucky Barnes fanfic}

Chapter Three

I had no idea what the plan was because I'm never included on these types of things. I followed Steve and Natasha through the mall at a respective distance. We didn't want it to look too obvious. I had put on a black beanie and glasses in an attempt to cover my face.
"First rule about going on the run is don't run, walk," Natasha stated quietly. Steve was looking around nervously.
"If I run in these shoes, they're gonna fall off," he said and I laughed quietly. We walked into the Apple store and Steve and I stood next to Natasha who was working on one of the computers.
"How much time do we have?" Steve asked.
"Um about nine minutes from...now," she said after placing the drive in the computer. "Fury was right about that ship. Somebody's trying to hide something. The person who developed this is slightly smarter than me. Slightly." She started rambling about technology stuff that I didn't understand and said if we couldn't read the file, we could try to figure out where it came from.
"Can I help you guys with anything?" An employee asked while approaching us. I jumped into the computer next to us, so it looked like I wasn't with them.
"Oh no my fiancé was just helping me with some honeymoon destinations," Natasha replied while hugging Steve and I chuckled.
"Right. We're getting married," Steve said. I had to put a hand over my mouth to keep me from bursting out in laughter.
'Smooth Steve, smooth.'
'Shut up,' he replied.
"Congratulations. Where are you guys thinking about going?" The employee asked.
"New Jersey," Steve replied while looking at the screen.
"Oh." The man looked at Steve in a way that made both of us panic. It looked like he recognized him.
"I have the exact same glasses," he stated. I let out a sigh if relief.
"Wow. You two are practically twins," Tasha said.
"Yeah, I wish. Specimen," the employee said while motioning at Steve's body. He walked away and I moved back over to Natasha.
"You said nine minutes, c'mon," Steve said while checking his watch.
"Shh relax. Got it," she replied with a smirk.
"You know it?" She asked Steve.
"I used to. Let's go," he said. We grabbed the drive and rushed out.
"Standard tag team. Two high, two across. Two coming straight at us," Steve said, spotting the agents after us. I got out my phone and dialed Jai's number. He thankfully picked up on the second ring.
"Hey! What's up?" He answered.
"Hey what do you want me to pick up for dinner tonight? I was thinking Mexican, but it's up to you," I said.
"Shut up and put your arm around me. Laugh at something I said," Tasha whispered to Steve.
"What?"
"Just do it!" They looked incredibly awkward, but the agents didn't seem to notice.
"What are you talking about?" Jai asked.
"I'll have to call you back. Bye." I hung up before he could ask any more questions. We were on the escalator heading down when I spotted Brock heading up.
"Uh-oh," I stated. Natasha looked over at him then back up at Steve.
"Kiss me," she demanded.
"What?" Steve asked.
"Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable," she stated.
"Yes, they do," Steve said, still unaware of what she was talking about. She grabbed his neck and pulled him in. I looked down at my phone like I was texting someone. I couldn't help but laugh as Natasha and Steve stood there awkwardly with their lips connected. I saw Brock look in the opposite direction. Natasha turned away after a few more seconds.
"You still uncomfortable?" Natasha asked.
"I know I am," I stated as we stepped off.
"That's not exactly the word I would use," Steve said.
We were in a gray truck Steve had hijacked, just entering New Jersey. Steve was driving, Natasha was lounging in the passenger seat, and I was laying in the back with my eyes closed. I looked like I was asleep, but I wasn't. I could listen to their conversation and they wouldn't know. I had a headache from using my mind as much as I had today.
"Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?" She asked.
"That was in Germany. And we're borrowing; get your feet off the dash," he replied.
"Alright I have a question for you of which you do not have to answer. I feel like if you don't answer it though, you are kinda answering it-" she blabbed.
"What?" Steve asked.
"Was that your first kiss since 1945?" she asked. I could practically hear her smirking.
"That bad, huh?"
"No."
"Well that kinda sounds like what you're saying," he said.
"No I was just wondering how much practice you had."
"I do not need practice," he defended himself.
"Everyone needs practice," she stated.
"That was not my first kiss since 1945. I'm ninety-five; not dead."
"Nobody special though?" Nat questioned. There was a period of silence that ensued and I heard someone shift in their seat. No doubt it was Steve. I could feel his eyes on me for a moment. He scoffed.
"Believe it or not, it's kinda hard to find someone who shares the same life experience," he said.
"Oh," Natasha said. There was the silence again. I wondered what they were thinking, but I was too tired to find out. "Well that's okay. Just make something up."
"What like you?" I wondered if that comment earlier about finding someone with same life experience was directed at me. They thought I was asleep, so Steve would certainly feel comfortable about talking about me. Don't get me wrong, he's an attractive guy. He always was. Even before he became macho man, he was attractive to me, but I couldn't really see myself with Steve. Maybe down the road, but unfortunately someone already has most of my heart; Bucky. Yeah, he's dead, but he always has and always will hold my heart with him. That doesn't mean I don't have any left to give out though. My imagination started going wild. I started to warm up to the idea of Steve and I together.
"It's kinda hard to trust someone when you don't know who that someone really is," Steve stated.
"Yeah. Who do you want me to be?" Nat asked.
"How 'bout a friend."
"Well there's a chance you might be in the wrong business Rogers," she said.
Silence followed her comment and soon we came to our destination.
"Rose, wake up!" He shouted. I slowly lifted myself up from my lying position and stretched.
"You doing alright?" He asked.
"Yeah. Minor headache is all," I told him. We got out of the truck and walked towards the gate of the camp.
"This is it," Steve said. "Can you get us in?"
"I can try," I answered. I stared at the gate intensely and it started to move. It bended and creaked, but I got it open. It was growing dark and the camp would have looked creepier if this wasn't were I spent a cherished part of my life.
"This is where I was trained," Steve said as we walked around.
"Change much?" Tasha asked.
"A little," he replied while staring at the abandoned flag pole.
"This is a dead end. Zero heat signature, zero waves, not even radio," Tasha stated. The two of us turned back to look at her. "Whoever made the file must have made a router to throw people off." Steve and I looked around the camp and my eyes settled on a building. I nudged Steve's shoulder and pointed to it.
"What is it?" She asked, noticing our gaze. We walked up to the building and instantly I felt uneasy about it.
"This building's in the wrong place," I said. Steve smashed the lock with his shield and we walked in. The three of us made our way down the stairs. Steve turned on the lights and we glanced around.
"This is S.H.I.E.L.D.," Tasha said, looking at the logo on the wall. We opened the door to an office and walked in towards one of the walls.
"Stark's father," she said while looking at the picture of him on the wall.
"Howard," Steve said.
"Who's the girl?" Tasha asked, motioning over to the picture of Peggy on the wall. Steve didn't answer, but instead walked away. He ran his hand along a shelf.
"They were already working on a secret office," he said. He pulled at the wall and it opened. He pushed it so the opening was larger.
"Why would you need to hide the elevator?" I asked. Natasha used some sort of device to figure out the code on the keypad, then typed it in. The elevator opened and we stepped in.
"I don't like this," I whispered as the doors closed and it started to move down. When the doors opened, the room was pitch black. We stepped out of the elevator and the doors closed behind us. We continued to walk forward. The lights flickered on when we reached the center of the room. In front of us were three monitors. We stepped up to the panel and looked around the room. This was the technology I remembered, but why was it here?
"This can't be the data point. This technology is ancient," she chuckled and looked over at a device sitting on the desk that looked out of place. She placed the drive in it and the place came to life. Machines lit up and beeped. A computer turned on and Nat typed 'yes'.
"Shall we play a game?" she said with a smirk. "It's from a movie-" she started to explain.
"I know. I saw it," Steve said. A face appeared on the screen and spoke.
"Rogers, Steven. Romanoff, Natasha. Lake, Rosalie," it spoke with a German accent, one that made my blood run cold and the color to rush from my face.
"It's some kind of recording," Natasha said.
"I am not a recording, fräulein," he spoke. Another monitor turned on and a picture of Dr. Zola appeared.
"You know this thing?" Natasha asked.
"Unfortunately yes," I answered.
"Nice to see my pretty little experiment is doing so well," Zola spoke to me.
"You didn't tell me Zola was the one who experimented on you," Steve said.
"I thought you knew," I replied.
"Well obviously I didn't," he spat at me.
"Noted! Focus," I snapped.
"Zola was a German scientist that worked with Red Skull. He's been dead for years," Steve explained, walking around the machines.
"False. Look around you. I have never been more alive. In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body; my mind, however, that was worth saving." I was frozen where I stood. This couldn't be happening, but I guess if you can create a mutant then you can preserve a mind. Well there goes my deal with Steve.
"On two hundredth thousand feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain."
"How did you get here?" Steve asked, joining us back in the panel. There was some sort of loud screeching inside my brain. It was so intense that I couldn't hear anything else.
"Cut off one head, two more shall take its place," Zola said. Those words kept appearing in my mind over and over again. Some in whispers, some in shouts. Monitors showing videos appeared. The three of us watched them, but I couldn't focus. It felt like something was squeezing my brain and I held into the desk. I started to black out, so my grip on the desk tightened. Steve punched the screen with Zola's face and it shattered.
"Steve," I said breathlessly. Zola's face appeared on another monitor.
"What's on this drive?" Steve asked. His voice seemed far away. The screeching sound increased and my hands went over my ears.
"Stop!" I shouted. I watched as a door closed over the elevator. Steve threw his shield, but missed it by a few seconds. Natasha's device started beeping. A missile was headed our way; we had thirty seconds.
"Who fired it?" Steve asked.
"S.H.I.E.L.D.," she replied.
"I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain," Zola said. "Admit it; it's better this way." Steve found a vent of some sort and removed the metal.
"We are both of us out of time." Natasha and I ran over and jumped in with Steve following. An explosion occurred and rock from the ceiling ceiling dropped on us. Steve protected him and Nat with his shield and I tried forming a sort of force field around my body. The rumbling stopped and I tried helping Steve lift the rocks off of us. Smoke filled my lungs and I started coughing. Natasha had been knocked out. Steve picked her up and carried her out of the flames. Jets surrounded the area, and we took off in a run. We hid behind rocks and tried to stay low.
"Are you alright?" Steve whispered.
"Uh...yeah. Don't worry about me. Let's get her somewhere safe," I said hoarsely. Steve gave me a dubious look, but continued on.
It was probably around seven when we got back to D.C.
"Where are we going?" I asked Steve.
"I know someone who can help," he replied. We arrived at this small house and Steve knocked on the door. The man who Steve was talking to when Natasha and I picked him up for our mission opened the blinds then the door.
"Hey man," he said.
"I'm sorry about this. We need a place to lay low," Steve said.
"Everyone we know is trying to kill us," I explained further. The man looked at the three of us.
"Not everyone," he said as he opened the door wider for
us to come in. The three of us walked in and he showed us to the bathroom. After cleaning up a bit, I laid down on the bed Tasha was sitting on the edge of. My head was still in pain and all I wanted to do was sleep. I was fading in and out if consciousness, so I was able to pick up bits and pieces of the conversation between Natasha and Steve. I felt the bed dip and lifted my head to see Steve sitting on the edge of the bed with Nat.
"What's going on?" He asked her. I didn't feel like listening to their conversation. I couldn't make out any words they were saying since I was so tired.
"I made breakfast. If you guys eat that sorta thing," Sam said, standing in the doorway. I sat up and got off the bed.
"I'm down for food," I said, walking out of the room. I heard Steve chuckle as I left.
"So the question is, who at S.H.I.E.L.D. would launch a missile strike?" Natasha said as we sat around Sam's kitchen table.
"Pierce," Steve replied.
"Who happens to be sitting on the most secure building in the world," I put in.
"He's not doing it alone," Steve said. "So the real question is how did the two most wanted people Washington kidnap S.H.I.E.L.D. officers in broad daylight?"
"The answer is you don't," Sam said, placing a folder in front of Steve on the table.
"What's this?" Steve asked.
"Call it a resume," Sam answered. Steve picked up the file and looked through it.
"I thought you said you were a pilot," Steve said with a smirk.
"I never said a pilot." Steve shook his head.
"I can't ask you to do this," he said. "You have to have a good reason."
"Dude Captain America needs my help. There's no better reason to get back in," Sam said.
"Where can we get out hands on one of these things?" I asked.
"The last one is at fort. Three guarded gates and a twelve inch steel wall," Sam informed us.
"Shouldn't be a problem," Steve said.