"So, why do you want to do this, Barnes?" Barton asks as he readjusts the tip on one of his arrows.
"Fury asked me to," he answers shortly.
Barton smiles grimly. "You always do what Fury wants?"
"No."
Finishing his task, Barton meets his eye. "Then why, Bucky? Why's it so important to you?"
He glances up over to Natalia, who's piloting, then back to Barton. Their conversation is quiet, but she can certainly hear them. If she's waiting for his response, it's not obvious. "I owe it to Steve to make sure the shield doesn't fall into the wrong hands," he explains.
"And yours are the right hands?"
Scoffing, he shakes his head. "No, of course not. But... I know Steve. And I knew him better than anyone. I don't want someone deciding his legacy for him as a political move, or a power play. If Steve... If we need someone to take over for him, there aren't a lot of people I'd trust to make that decision."
Barton nods, seeming satisfied. "Well, I'd agree with you there." Turning toward the cockpit, he raises his voice to talk to Natalia. "Almost there, 'Tasha?"
"Six minutes. We can't approach directly or they'll probably fire on us," she calls back.
"Let's try to avoid that," Barton responds with a grin. "Here, you're going to need this," he adds, handing over the arrow tip he was apparently removing, which he tucks into his belt. Getting to his feet, Clint pats him on the shoulder, and goes to join Natalia in the front.
Silently, he watches him go, trying to push away the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. What he said was the truth, of course, but he doesn't like considering that the world may need a Captain America besides Steve Rogers. That Steve might not wake up. Still, if it comes to it... A new Cap will have to represent the same things Steve did, will have to be separate from the government, not a tool for those in power to use to their advantage. Not like the Winter Soldier was.
When they land, they are in the middle of the woods of upstate New York. Natalia leads the way toward the hidden SHIELD base, one of the few that is left off the books. She always seems to know where things are, and how to get to them. He is glad she agreed to come along, to help him out. It was a very serious conversation when he asked her, but she'd smiled at the end, touched that he'd asked her, perhaps. He appreciated how often she smiled, how she always seemed to find something to smile about. Even now.
Barton didn't go on all of Natalia's missions, but she had suggested he come along on this one. He isn't sure why, but he understood the tactical advantage Barton would provide. He doubts that was what Natalia was thinking of when she brought it up, though. In any case, he can't ignore the strange connection he has with Barton, who understands better than anyone (possibly better than Natalia) what it means to come back from being under enemy control.
Natalia gets them inside without setting off any alarms, which is a feat. The plan is for her to tap into the security feed from inside the base and guide him, while Barton keeps an eye on everything from above.
"You're sure about this?" she asks quietly as they prepare to split up.
"Yeah."
"I can go with you," she offers, looking at him intently.
He smiles slightly, reaching out to take her hand for a moment. "I'll be fine," he promises. "I have to do this."
Nodding, she steps back. "Be careful, James," she tells him.
"I'm sure you'll keep me safe," he replies, tapping his earpiece. The look of concern remains on her face, but she turns back to join Barton.
Taking a deep breath, he heads as quickly and quietly as he can in the opposite direction. The base is, like most of SHIELD's current assets, largely empty. Whether HYDRA or not, most agents have left the company in favor of something a little less universally hated. He knows they are rebuilding, but places like this are not a high priority. Or weren't, at any rate. Now, he is not surprised to find more people walking around than any of the intel they'd gathered would have suggested.
Still, stealth is, and has always been, one of his strengths, so he manages to sneak around undetected. The corridors are long and narrow and he would certainly have gotten lost if Natalia weren't telling him where to go. She's also instrumental in his continued concealment, since she directs him away from any populated areas. As a result, his exploration of the base is circuitous, but unnoticed.
Finally, he comes upon the vault, where they expect the shield to be hidden. When Steve... While he's in the hospital, those in charge determined that the symbol was too precious to leave lying around, and should be protected. He isn't sure who made the call, or why it is stored here. But it doesn't matter. Whoever is calling the shots shouldn't have that much power over what happens to Steve.
"Okay, how do I get in?" he asks quietly into his comm.
"Use what Barton gave you. It'll knock out the security system for about thirty seconds. It won't be unlocked, but you should be able to get it open," Natalia responds.
He pulls the arrow tip out of his pocket and looks at it doubtfully. "You mean I'm going to have to man-handle it," he mutters.
"Pretty much. I'm sure it's nothing your left arm can't manage," she says, her smile obvious in her tone.
"Great. All clear?"
She pauses, perhaps talking to Barton. "Yeah, you should be good for a few minutes, at least. Try to hurry, James."
"Thanks."
Checking his surroundings one last time, he sticks the device onto the locking mechanism and steps back. It doesn't explode, as he was somewhat expecting, but sends out some kind of signal that knocks out all of the lights around him, as well as the keypad. He feels something in his metal arm, but it continues to function after a moment. Blinking a few times in the darkness, he carefully positions his left hand to have a good grip on the door. He has no idea how long it will take the system to reboot, and thirty seconds was just an estimate. Besides, it might result in him being locked inside if he's still in there.
So he hurries. Wrenching the door open causes a brief moment of searing pain down his side, but then he can get through and it doesn't matter. He's not injured. The vault is a large room, much larger than he was expecting, with a high ceiling and a great deal of crates and boxes and objects left out in the open strewn on rows of seven-foot-tall shelves. After a second look, he sees that it is mostly arranged in some fashion, not just thrown in. Whatever the method of organization might be, he doesn't have time to work it out.
Quickly, he moves from row to row, searching for the familiar red, white, and blue. It should be near the top of a pile, he thinks. There isn't any dust to indicate what might have been disturbed in the last few days, and he begins to grow frustrated.
"James?"
"Yeah?" he replies, some impatience bleeding into his tone.
"Not a lot of time," Natalia tells him quietly. "You okay in there? I can't see you."
"I'm fine. It's just... There's a lot here."
"Take your time, James. I'm sure Clint and I can bust you out if you get captured."
He laughs abruptly. "Thanks, Natalia, that's good to know."
It's still dark, which he takes as a good sign. His flashlight doesn't provide enough of a visual for him to find things easily, but the lights coming back on will likely mean he can no longer leave this room without help. So he searches as hastily as he can, praying that the lights stay off even as he trips over a small box on the floor. Finally, a familiar glint catches the light, and he lets out a heavy sigh of relief. It's propped up against the wall behind the shelf, behind a surprising number of other objects, which he pushes impatiently aside.
Hesitantly, he takes hold of the shield, pulling it off of the shelf. The heft of it feels right, and he feels somehow better, as if having it means Steve will be okay.
"James, there are alarms going off," Natalia's voice invades his thoughts.
"What?" he asks sharply, leaning toward the shelf. It's still dark in here, at least. But there's clearly some sort of mechanism that the shield was on top of, and the absence of its weight must have been noticed. "Damn it," he growls. He should have looked for that.
Taking off running, he makes it back to the door and slams into it to get out. In the corridor, there are red lights flashing a few yards away, perhaps out of the radius of Barton's device. He can hear the sound of boots heading his direction at a run, and he turns the other direction.
"I've got it. Which way?"
He can keep up a faster pace than his pursuers, and he soon outdistances them. Natalia tells him where to go, this time in a more direct path than before. They're in a hurry this time, and stealth isn't as important.
"There's going to be a lot of agents coming up. James, try not to hurt anyone. I can still direct you around them if you want," she offers.
"No, we need to get out of here," he replies. "Are you and Barton ready?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll see you outside."
The corridor he is following opens onto a large room; the mess hall, he thinks irrelevantly before he has more important things to worry about. There are dozens of agents, many of them armed, and all of them getting to their feet to stare at him. Smiling grimly, he lifts Steve's shield to provide cover, and keeps running. Once or twice he has to roll to avoid being shot, but the shield does its job and he makes it out of there unharmed. And, more importantly, without harming anyone else.
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