CRUEL INTENTIONS, bucky barnes

fourteen

March 24, 2016

HYDRA Base

Munich, Germany 

Cold air swept in the door behind Savannah as she waltzed into the lobby, her nose and cheeks flushed from the wind and snow. Only a few of the bustling agents around her stopped. Most of them didn't know her face and didn't give her a second glance. One of the women she'd taken on her pursuit of Barnes slid past her and spoke to the man behind the front desk.

Savannah unwound her scarf from around her neck and shook the snow from her hair. It had been months since she'd been back at the Munich base, but it seemed that nothing much had changed. The only new things were the absence of Alina and Brock, and the more she thought about that, the less she minded.

"Anyone get ahold of Malveaux? I need updates, new intel."

"The last time she gave us intel, it turned out to be absolute shit."

A wave of heat washed over her face. She'd made it this long without putting a bullet through any of Agent Ramos' body, but Savannah's tolerance was wearing extremely thin. The two of them, accompanied by six other agents, had been together for three months without any serious incidents.

Savannah had managed to gather a group that was almost as interested in bringing Barnes back as she was, which served to be mostly an advantage. It was times like these that she wished it were possible to pursue Barnes on her own.

"Malveaux was given bad intel by the incompetent organization that she's pretending to work for," Savannah said. She brushed off her momentary anger at Ramos and proceeded further into the lobby toward the elevator. "That's why I needed someone to get ahold of her, but I can't say I'm shocked to discover no one has been following orders while I've been away."

"It's not entirely our fault," an agent that Savannah didn't recognize chided. He'd fallen in beside her and Ramos, his face flushed. There was a tinge of a German accent to his voice. "Rumlow left right after you did. Went rogue. We hardly have any leadership here aside from the orders coming in from you. Even then, it's hard to get anything carried out. It's worse in Berlin. He—"

Savannah's hand reflexively went to the sidearm in her belt, her fingers itching for a kill, but when the agent stopped himself, so did she.

"Don't talk to me about Berlin." She could tell that Ramos and the young man were surprised by the lack of anger in her tone and it almost made her smile. She jammed her finger into the elevator button and crossed her arms. "Someone get ahold of Alina before bullets start flying here, too."

"Yes, ma'am," the young man said. The flush in his cheeks immediately drained as he raised two trembling hands when Savannah drew her weapon, cocked it, and aimed it at his forehead. "I—"

"Don't call me ma'am. Jesus Christ."

She lowered her gun from his head to his left foot and fired. The bullet grazed the toe of his boot and lodged itself in the beige carpet beneath their feet. The entire lobby fell silent, all eyes searching for a corpse.

"Y-Yes, Agent King."

The elevator dinged and Savannah stepped inside, leaving Ramos and the hysterical agent on the ground floor. As the doors closed behind her, she let out a long breath and fell back against one of the cool, metal walls.

Rumlow.

God damn him.

He'd always been the bigger HYDRA fanatic between the two of them. Savannah's interests were more focused on using the Asset to help them gain power over the rest of the world, while Brock's were abstract and based in destruction and pain. It made sense that he'd go rogue, after everything. Savannah partially wished he would have refocused his anger to facilitate HYDRA's rebirth, but it was easier to justify his death if he was going to continue to ruining her plans and killing her agents.

She threw the door of her hotel room shut with a force that shook the walls. Lately, her interests had become less focused than she could ever remember them being. She was trying to balance between tracking Barnes, keeping tabs on Rumlow, and getting in contact with Malveaux. No ground had been gained on any front.

The Barnes mission had gone three months with hardly any leads. Rumlow had executed another slew of agents that had been drawn out of hiding with talk of biological weapons and revolution. And Malveaux, as usual, was practically unreachable.

Savannah planted herself on the edge of her bed and dialed the same number that had gone unanswered for weeks. Much to her surprise and frustration, it didn't go to voicemail.

"Listen," Alina said, her voice quiet. "I know—"

"No. You listen, goddammit," Savannah sprung up from the corner of the bed, heat burning across her body. "Your intel was shit. Garbage. You could have given me Tony Stark's grocery receipts and I'd have figured out a better way to use them to my advantage. And then you go off the grid? Fucking unacceptable. If you were within range, there would already be more bullet holes in your body than S.H.I.E.L.D.'s med team could ever hope to sew up."

"Savannah, I gave you what I had." There was a long pause during which Savannah continued to pace up and down her room, wanting nothing more than to be able to wrap her hands around Malveaux's throat. "I'm not going to apologize—"

"Good, because then I'd have to send a sniper to put bullet holes in you for me, and I don't have that kind of resource right now."

"I gave you what I had," Alina reiterated. "There's... nothing on this end. Radio silence. They don't care that Rumlow is murdering people. I heard about what he's doing at the Berlin base. They don't care about that either. I doubt you've been compromised."

"Don't—" Savannah squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fist around her phone. "Enough about Berlin! I'll get Rumlow under control. Right now I'm dealing with you making me look like a fool."

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"Something useful," Savannah hissed, her free hand clenched into a shaking fist at her side. "Just once in your miserable life, Malveaux. Tell me something I can fucking use. That's your goddamn job."

There was a long pause, but none of the shuffling that Savannah usually heard on Alina's end of the phone. Perhaps S.H.I.E.L.D. really had lost interest, so much so that she didn't even feel like she needed to hide their conversations.

"I gave you what I had." Alina finally said. "There's nothing else."

"These non-answers are getting old fast, Malveaux."

"They're the only answers I have."

Savannah didn't get the chance to hang up first. The line went dead before she could unleash the slew of vitriol that was brewing on her tongue. Instead, it boiled up over the surface. She threw her cell phone at the screen of the television in front of her and it left a spider web of cracks in the black Plexiglas.

Her phone bounced onto the carpet, unharmed. That was more than could be said for any agents that got in her way or questioned her authority that night. Savannah was losing her patience and she wasn't sure how long she'd be able to hold out before she went after Malveaux and S.H.I.E.L.D. herself.

The Asset was always her first priority, but Alina's misinformation and Brock's betrayal had crippled her search for him.

With a sound that fell just short of a growl, she knelt down and retrieved her phone, half-tempted to call Alina back and unleash an in-depth description of the torture she'd be suffering if the lack of information continued.

Instead, she opened their barren text conversation and sent a simple message:

Two weeks. Non-negotiable.