The misty morning air hung in silence as the men lay in wait. A gentle snowfall blanketed the space around them and the cold cut them like knives. No man had gone in or out of this base in five hours and Bucky couldn't shake the feeling that this was a mistake.
"Steve," he whispered, "something doesn't feel right. There should be hundreds of men here. Hundreds."
Steve glanced over at his best friend, the worry etched on to his face mirroring his own, and nodded.
"You're right. What's their play? Why was there so much chatter about this place for it to just be empty?" He looked between the men but no one could answer. The six men surrounding him exchanged tense glances until Bucky broke the silence.
"I don't know, but I think we need to get out of here. Get back to the others." Bucky's eyes were pleading and Steve gave him a tense nod. As focused as Bucky was, as fantastic a soldier he could be, his mind was filled with concern right now and it wasn't for himself. This felt like a trap, like someone had set out to pull them away from something else, something bigger, and Bucky just wanted to get back and make sure she was safe.
*
The bandages should be out and ready. Why had she decided to pack them in a chest at the entrance to the temporary medical tent when she knew they'd be needed? After all, there was rarely a mission in which they all returned unscathed. Elizabeth began to unpack the dressings for the fifth time since her arrival, laying them out in a neat pile beside one of the open cots.
Since The Howling Commandos had set off that morning she had had no updates. The silence was deafening. She paced the length of the tent countless times and often found herself jogging to where a small man sat with a radio, listening intently, waiting for Captain Rogers to make contact and asking for news. Each time he gave her a half smile, shook his head and returned to his position with his head close to the radio, a pen in his hands and an empty notebook sat before him.
She dragged her feet as she returned to her station, her mind occupied with thoughts of his sea blue eyes, the music of his laughter, the caress of his voice. Her heart was aching for him, and her mind was working overtime to convince herself he would be fine. He was always fine.
A shock of blue. Airborne. Everything seemed to slow to a painful pace. The world was exploding. A guttural scream tore through the breath that was ripped from her lungs as the burning consumed her. The burning consumed everything. Her eyes fought to remain open as fire raged, as soldiers were gunned down, as men in black masks with weapons that seemed to glow with power loomed over her. Darkness came as they lifted her limp body and walked through the flames.
*
Rust. Rust and blood.
The bitter metallic taste filled her mouth as she wretched and heaved. Her head was throbbing and her ears rang with the distant memory of explosions and screams. Elizabeth desperately wished for the bitter sweet pull of the unconscious as her surroundings became more clear.
Her spine ached against the chill of the metal table she was now strapped to and her own blood stained her torn blouse. Her wrists, her waist and her ankles were bound tightly, blisters already forming as she tried to pull against them. The room, although dark, was clearer as her mind began to focus. Damp walls and a rocky ceiling gave her the impression she was no longer above ground and the flicker of the light suggested flames rather than electricity. Wherever she was, it was disused and dirty, old and decrepit and she was not alone.
He was a small man. Pushing his glasses back up his nose he smiled down at her while the fog of her mind tried to clear. His eyes, enlarged by the glass, were cold and calculating and his smile induced a new wave of fear.
"Ahh," he leaned over her so that his face was just inches from hers, "you are finally awake Miss Halsted."
Elizabeth wanted to pull away but as she moved her head the world span and more blood flowed.
"Who are you?" she cried. "How do you know me?"
The man slowly moved away from her and over to a small silver table. She could hear the clanging of metal syringes and scalpels and bile rose in her throat.
"I, my dear, am Doctor Artim Zola." He turned back to face her, his hands now occupied with filling a syringe with a dark blue liquid. "It is such a shame to involve you, I assure you that it was never my intention, but you see, when Mr Barnes left us he took something from us, something important. And so Miss, we have decided to take something important from him. You."
"Please," Elizabeth fought against her restraints as Zola tightened them against her skin, causing the welts to split and bleed. "Please, don't do this. Please. No, no, please."
Her sobs ripped through the space and echoed around her as she cried out for Bucky to save her, as she begged for something to end the pain that consumed her and burned her as the substance Zola had now injected raced through her veins.
"There is no use in your crying, Miss Halsted," he whispered in her ear, "no one is coming for you. You are ours now."
He left her alone and screaming as she lay in the darkness.
*
Doctor Zola approached the guards now stationed outside the cell the young woman was now bound in with a sickening smile on his face.
"See to it that she does not escape," he ordered. "We leave in a few hours. By that time she should have lost consciousness, but if she has not, ensure that she does. Do you understand?"
The soldier nodded and stood tall. He knew his duty and he performed it well.
"Hail Hydra," Zola smiled.
"Hail Hydra." Each man saluted as the doctor walked away, whistling a children's lullaby as he went.
*
The place had been decimated. Scorched earth and mangled metal was all that remained of the tent in which Elizabeth had been based.
The men stood like statues as they took in the destruction around them. Bucky did not. Dropping everything he ran into the final flames and tore through the chaos that surrounded him, searching for her.
"Lizzie!?" He screamed. "Lizzie. Please!"
Steve stepped behind him as he dropped to his knees.
"Buck."
"I need her Steve." As grief took hold he began to shake. He had never known such pain.
"Barnes?" The soft sadness in Dugan's voice did nothing to Bucky. He did not move, he did not answer, he did not look at him. "Barnes. You should see this."
Torn from the knife holding it to the only post left standing was a note addressed to one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. When Dugan placed it in his hands it took a moment for Bucky to grip it.
"Barnes," Dugan soothed, "we'll get her back. We will."
Grief, terror and murderous rage washed over Bucky as the words in his hands registered in his mind: You took what was ours. We have taken what was yours. This is a game you and your star spangled friend will not win, Mr Barnes.
He screamed into the nothingness around him as his tears fell freely. His friends bowed their heads in silence and Steve, whose heart was breaking to see Bucky in so much pain, allowed his own tears to fall as his mind wandered to what they might do to Lizzie now.
Clearing his throat, Steve repeated the words Dugan had said before him, afraid that anything else he could say would only make it worse.
"We'll get her back Buck. I swear."
The rumble of an engine approaching broke the silence that followed. With an apprehension uncharacteristic of the man, Colonel Phillips stepped from the truck and slowly made his way to Sergeant Barnes. Peggy followed on his heels, already struggling to hold it together and afraid to look at James Barnes as he sobbed into the ground. Her eyes met Steve's for the briefest of moments and she saw it in him too. He was breaking.
The men stood to attention while Barnes remained on his knees. Hatred flowed through him as Colonel Phillips spoke. He had asked for her to be here. He had decided medical would be needed on site. He had chosen her and not one of the other nurses. If she died, it was on him.
"Intelligence suggests that they have moved Miss Halsted from one Hydra facility fifteen miles south of here and now have her on a train heading through The Alps." He paused to look at Sergeant Barnes and felt fresh waves of guilt. Colonel Phillips had chosen Elizabeth for this mission because she was the best, but also because he liked her. She was passionate and hard working and she didn't let him dictate how her facilities should be run. He admired that. Now, looking at Barnes he knew he had made a mistake. "You leave in ten. You'll be briefed in the truck."
He took a step towards Bucky and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry Sergeant. I shouldn't have brought her here."
Bucky's eyes were empty when he looked up at his commanding officer.
"No Sir," he spat, "you shouldn't have."
He pushed the hand from his shoulder and stood swiftly, dropping the note in the ashes beneath him, and marched towards the truck.
"We leave now." Bucky commanded. "Move out men."
Without a seconds hesitation The Commandos fell into order and followed Bucky's lead. Steve may have been the Captain, but Lizzie was his girl, and no one else would be responsible for bringing her home.