Red Star ✴️ Bucky Barnes X Reader

20: A Promise to Keep

Bowman woke up with a wide yawn, having gotten the best night of sleep she'd had since waking up from the cryochamber. There was something satisfying about going to bed and waking up by your own decision. It was freeing.

She stood from her bed, grabbing some of the clothes T'Challa had graciously provided for her from the drawers of her nightstand. They were a little big for her, but honestly, Bowman preferred it that way. Just as she was pulling her shirt over her head, a knock came to the door.

"Just a minute!" she yelled out.

"It's Shuri. T'Challa sent me."

Bowman paused for a second. Shuri? Why would T'Challa send Shuri? Wouldn't he come down himself, or send one of the guys to tell her? He must have his hands full, but even then he always makes time for them.

Something much bigger is going on.

Bowman rushed to put on her clothes.

---

T'Challa closed the doors of the drawing room, the group sitting around the table behind him. He turned to see their anxious faces glancing between each other, before all eventually landing on T'Challa's face. He simply cleared his throat, deciding to give the bad news like ripping off a band-aid.

"The Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building has requested to hold Zemo."

The group sat there, astonished.

"What?"

"That can't be possible..."

"Why do they want him?"

T'Challa sighed. "Apparently he falls under their jurisdiction."

"How the fuck is that possible?" Bucky exclaimed.

Bowman shot Steve a funny look.

Steve sat back in his chair, arms crossed. "I'll allow it."

"Apparently they are claiming that Zemo is a terrorist, so he falls under INTERPOL's authority," T'Challa continued, ignoring Steve's joke. "The terror attack did not happen in our borders, but it did happen in Italy's, which means it falls under the EU. The EU turns all terrorists that operate within their borders to INTERPOL, and they want Zemo held in their harshest facility."

The group sat silently for a moment.

"I hate to say it, but that makes sense." Steve sighed. "I don't think we're going to be able to fight the EU."

"Even if we did, they'd wonder why, and we can't compromise the mission," Bucky added on. "What do they plan to do with him?"

"They plan to hold him at the Centre for a while," T'Challa answered. "They want to question him and see if they can understand his motives."

"Yeah, his motives are that he's a psychopath," Bowman muttered. Bucky was the only one sitting close enough to hear her.

"The plan is to eventually move him to Berlin Correctional Facility for a life sentence, given he displays good behavior at the Centre." T'Challa sighed, shaking his head. "I agree with his punishment, but I do wonder what this means for our plan."

"Do you have any other high-profile prisoners we can send to the Raft?" Steve inquired.

"If I did, you would not be sleeping in the cells."

Steve nodded, realizing how stupid his question was but refusing to acknowledge it. "So, what do we do then?"

"That's why I called you all in here." T'Challa responded. "Five brains are better than one."

The group sat silent for a moment, all thinking about possible solutions.

"Wait."

The group turned to the small voice coming from the end of the table. Bowman's eyes darted around as if they were connecting the dots in the air.

"Does the Raft know Zemo is being relocated?"

T'Challa pondered her question for a moment, before his eyes went wide. "... No. No, they don't."

"And didn't you guys say Zemo impersonated Bucky?"

"Where are you going with this, Bowman?" Steve inquired.

Her eyes flicked up from the table, meeting Steve's. "We use the same technology to impersonate Zemo. The Raft won't know the difference."

"It would work," Shuri butted in. "We already have Nano Masks for you guys to take on the appearance of our soldiers. It wouldn't be hard to reprogram."

"Then who's going to impersonate Zemo?" Bucky inquired.

"Me."

The group turned to Bowman.

"Oh you've got to be kidding..."

"I'm closest in height, and all I'd have to do is cut my hair short and dye it." She argued.

"And you haven't trained in years." Steve bit back. "Bucky was able to take you down with just a few punches!"

"I thought this was a silent mission, Spangles. As in, we aren't going in guns blazing, American-style?" She smirked.

"I don't like the idea of her going out on a mission so soon." Steve commented, turning to T'Challa.

"Why not?" Bucky shrugged.

Steve just looked, astonished. "Bucky, you saw her in training! It's going to take her a bit longer than a week to come back from cryo rot, and even then, it doesn't look like she has a lot of experience--"

SLAM!

"I'll have you know I've gone through more shit than you could ever have nightmares about, Captain." she spat, venom dripping from her words. Bowman firmly planted her hands against the table, standing from her chair and dominating the space. Her eyes swirled with darkness, as if the black void of her pupil was leaking into her iris.

Her poisoned gaze focused on T'Challa, jabbing a finger in his direction. "Give me a week, and I'll be the best stealth fighter on the force. I can promise you that."

T'Challa leaned forward, pushing his palms against the edge of the table. "How so?"

She just scoffed. "They don't call me Bowman for nothing."

With that, she turned to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" Steve inquired bitterly.

"Training." She spat back, keeping her eyes focused forward. "Sounds like I've got a promise to keep."