Chapter Thirty: One Step Behind

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They reached the bunker just after dawn-sweaty, quiet, and carrying a lopsided armory between them.

Bucky checked the perimeter. Clear. Too clear.

Yelena was the first to notice the door was unlocked.

"That's not good," she muttered, stepping inside.

They filed in one by one. John dragged a backpack behind him, Ava scanned the walls, Alexei had two boxes of supplies slung over each shoulder like grocery bags.

Then they saw the table.

A single note. Written fast, clipped beneath a second one-rough handwriting, unfamiliar and threatening.

Yelena reached for it first, reading it aloud:

"I knew you would be back.
They took him.
I let my guard down for a second."

She flipped to the next one.

"We have your friend. If you don't want him killed, then you better get here quickly.
40.7421° N, 74.0039° W."

John looked around. "Where's the bike?"

Bucky was already heading toward the garage entrance. "Gone."

"She left minutes before we got here," Ava muttered. "She didn't even try to wait."

"Why would she?" Yelena asked. "This is her war, remember?"

John squinted out through the trees. "Okay, but... how the hell do we get there?"

Then Alexei pointed toward the clearing.

"Has that car been there the whole time?"

They all turned.

A black SUV.

Unmarked. Clean. Like it had been dropped by someone expecting someone to need it.

Bucky narrowed his eyes. "That's definitely a trap."

Yelena was already halfway to the driver's door. "Then let's spring it."

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