Bucky Barnes & The Winter Soldier - Acts of Defiance
For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.
January 1963
The technician had just found out his girlfriend had been unfaithful to him and he is angry, bitter, sulky. He is not a pleasant person. The girlfriend has had a narrow miss and thanks her lucky stars that she has gotten rid of him.
They are not allowed drinks in the main room but as an act of defiance he thinks sod it and takes in a cup of coffee. After all, he is working alone on this shift and he can always get rid of the cup before the others come in.
It really is not his day. He knocks the coffee over and it floods into the panel he is working at. Normally he would have gotten away with it - but...his girlfriend had put him on a diet. Told him he was getting fat, had been concerned about his health. Well, now she was no longer in the picture, he had gone back to putting sugar in his coffee - an extra spoonful, even. The way he looks at it, everyone needs luxuries in their life.
His girlfriend was right to be worried for his health, because the sugar is what will ultimately be the cause of his death.
As the coffee seeps into the control panel he jumps back, panicked, and grabs a cloth, swearing. It takes him twenty minutes to get rid of the tell tale signs of the spilt drink. All the while he is sweating in case someone else comes in and finds out. It is not his fault, he mutters, it is his girlfriend's – his ex-girlfriend's!
Outside the panel, everything looks normal and he breathes a sigh of relief. The lights are still working and it chugs away as usual. Inside however, is a different matter. If it had just been fluid then no problem; the spill may have affected a few small minor things. But sugar and circuity do not mix.
This will definitely be the death of him.
Later that morning, when others join him and the working day begins he has all but forgotten his previous blunder and is moaning at a fellow technician about his love life - or lack thereof. His fellow technician wishes he would shut up.
The doors open and the Winter Soldier is led in. The mission went well and he has rested. He is now ready to return to cryo-freeze. He sits in the chair waiting to be wiped. He knows it will hurt but he is used to pain; it is one of his constant companions although you would never tell from his outward demeanour. He just wishes they would get on with it. Freya comes to sit beside him. He knows her now, knows how much she loves him, and how they lied to him when he first came out of cryo. But he has been told it is important for him to be lied to about her. He is on that cusp of asking too many questions. He tries to smile and she tells him she will see him on the other side.
The chair tilts and the plates begin to cover his face. He inhales deeply, his hands clench the arm rests, and the whine from the machine begins.
The pain starts and he tenses, but although the pain is bad he somehow feels that it is different and he realises at the end of the session he still has most of his memories intact. He knows that he should tell them so they can rerun the wipe...but in an act of defiance, he decides not to.
His ears are bleeding and buzzing by the end of the session and his head hurts. Freya helps clean him up and stays with him until he is in his metal pod, ready for cryo-freeze. He wants to reach out, tell her he remembers her but he cannot. There are eyes everywhere and instead he keeps it to himself but he does squeeze her hand just before they shut the lid and she gives him one of the shy smiles he loves so much.
Then, blackness.
*
May 27th 1963
He can hear the voices counting down. He can feel Freya's hand curled around his. He opens his eyes and, just for a split moment, he feels as if he is underwater. Then he sees her and blinks. The world comes into focus.
"Hello, sleepyhead." She smiles at him, squeezes his hand. He nods, then puts his head back and closes his eyes. His head feels like it is splitting open.
She moves closer, a frown on her face. She is used to seeing him in pain, but she can see blackness under his eyes. His skin is pale.
"How is your head? Can I get you anything?" she asks quietly and he opens his eyes again to look at her. He can remember so much that he shouldn't, and something in his brain is telling him not to admit to it. They must not know he has remembered things. It is not permitted. He knows he can trust her, but there are too many people around them.
She hands him a glass of water which he gulps down. So far he has not spoken. She runs her hand down his cheek and he feels the warmth of it. He wants to reach up and take it in his and kiss her palm, but that would be out of character and so instead he indicates his head is bad and she nods. She cannot give him any pain killers as they will do that in the Programming Suite if they feel it is needed. She stays with him until they come to take him there, but he can see in her eyes she is worried.
His memories are all over the place. Some mean something to him, some don't. He knows his codename is the Winter Soldier, but he cannot remember his real name. He knows he works for an organisation named Hydra but he doesn't know how he came to work for them. He also knows that he is a killer, but that what he does is supposed to be for the good of the world. The two ideas clash. He 'lives' with the woman called Freya and he remembers that he always forgets how much she means to him, and that they tell him lies about her...but he doesn't know why they do. He comes out of cryo freeze to be sent on missions and they keep him up to date with training, he travels with a team of people and he remembers their names, but only some of this is information he is always allowed to retain. Why?
His head is pulsing and his stomach is churning. He comes forward just as Freya realises he is going to be sick and grabs hold of a bin. She holds it under him and he brings up water and bile. This is unusual. Normally, coming out of cryo does not make him this nauseous. She hands him a cloth to wipe his mouth and gets him to sip some more water. He leans back, sweating.
He hears her on one of the telephones, talking to someone in the Programming Suite, telling them there will be a delay and asking if she can give him some medication. She is evidently given the go-ahead as she then fetches a hypo from one of the kits. She comes to sit next to him.
"This should make you feel a little better," she swabs his arm. "It's for the sickness. I usually have to have one each time," she tells him and smiles as if it is a joke. He feels the sting of the needle and then her cool hand on his forehead. He realises he has closed his eyes and she tells him to keep them closed, tells him to rest.
An hour later he is feeling better; not so nauseous as before. They receive a phone call and after checking with him that he feels well enough to move she confirms that someone from programming can come to collect him.
"I'll see you later. If you feel sick, let them know okay?" She is looking at him and he can see how much she cares. He nods. When she leaves he closes his eyes again and thoughts and memories are swirling around his head. Nothing makes sense. They come to fetch him. He has so many questions he wants to ask but as he nears the Programming Suite he begins to sweat. He knows he must not let them know how much he remembers.
There is something dreadfully wrong here.
*
Peter and Elise are ready for him when he arrives but he is wrapped up in his own thoughts and does not realise there is tension in the air. They have argued and are barely talking to each other. At any other time this wouldn't have mattered...but this time? Well, combine it with the technician and his sugared coffee from a few months ago and it is catastrophic. But no-one knows that yet.
Fate has a funny sense of humour.
Timor gets him to sit in the chair and asks him how he is feeling. He admits to his head still being bad and so Peter decides to start him off on a lower setting. After a few hours though Elise turns up the setting and the programming becomes brutal.
They see no difference in their subject but that is because they do not look. Both are brooding on their previous conversation, and snapping at each other. Timor has decided to stay out of things. He sits quietly marking off the peaks and troughs on the information given out. The script seems to be running fine.
At the end of the session the Winter Soldier is uncoordinated, bleeding, suffering. What was any different to normal? They give him strong pain killers and he is sent back to his quarters.
The mission will begin the next day.
He remembers everything they have told him. But remembering is not programming.
His mind is blanking out and buzzing in and he doesn't know what to do with the pain. He knows he has been programmed, but whereas normally he would be crystal clear in what he has to do, this time it has not worked. They did not have a clean slate to work with. Things are confused. This time he kept his hands clenched, and if Peter and Elise had been paying attention they would have seen his palm sliced by his nails; he has bitten his tongue. Anything to cause pain so that he could fight what they were doing to him.
Instead of being programmed directly into his mind, it is as if he was having it read to him. He knows the whole script and remembers it word-for-word but as if he has read a piece of fiction. He knows his mission, but he also knows deep down, that he should not carry it out. It is wrong. It is murder. And not only is it murder, it would be catastrophic to the country involved. For the first time, he realises that he has a choice in the matter. he does not have to do what they have told him to do.
He gets back to his rooms and Freya is there. He wants to tell her everything. To tell her he remembers her, to tell her that she doesn't need to keep any distance between them, that she doesn't need to flinch when he lifts his hand. But he also remembers the programming script and how at this point he is supposed to hate her, that normally he would hurt her physically and mentally and he knows that is what she is expecting.
He is finding it difficult to focus, to keep awake and so he tells he is going to sleep. She is expecting this, but first she cleans up the blood, asks him about his palm. He shrugs it off but he can see she suspects something and so he does what he is supposed to.
He pushes her away.
*
He comes awake fast. It is dark; there is just the light from under the door. So many thoughts crowd his brain. When he awoke he cried out and Freya is there beside the bed telling him he is all right, reaching out to touch him, to soothe him. He sits up in bed, hands around his head, clenching his hair whilst he desperately tries to think.
"I have some pain killers, I won't be a moment," Freya says, and before he can answer she has disappeared to fetch water and tablets. He takes a deep breath and by the time she returns he pretends that he is calmer. He takes the tablets, drinks the water. He doesn't look at her. His mind is screaming and he can hear words being drummed into him. He can feel pressure building up in his brain.
"Do you want me to stay with you?" she asks. He shakes his head and then wishes he hadn't. She moves closer. "You look terrible. Talk to me," she says. "What is it? What's wrong?"
The temptation to grab hold of her, to bury his head against her breast and sob is overpowering. He is sweating heavily and the panic is so close by now that he can reach out and touch it. He cannot do it. He cannot involve her.
"Nothing. Go away, go back to sleep," he says and lies back down. He turns his back on her, deliberately pulling up the blankets to shut her out. She doesn't move for a second, then he feels her get up, listens as she moves back to her own bed and settles back down for the night.
Thoughts and memories spin in his brain. The sleep has helped, but now there are so many more questions. Who is he really? How long has he been here? How can he complete the mission they want him to do? It is murder. Plain and simple. And the target? How can he do that? He is American. That thought shoots into his brain. I'm American. He starts to list all the things he can remember about himself. It is jumbled, incomplete. Nonsensical.
He knows what he has do do. For a moment he thinks of waking Freya, talking to her about it, but then he stops. If he does, she will help him. He is in no doubt about that. But, he also knows she is a prisoner just as much as he is, he knows she is not Hydra. If he fails and they discover she has helped him they will kill her. He cannot protect her. Or can he...he thinks. I must do this alone.
That thought is so frightening he closes his eyes, his heart is beating so loudly he thinks it will wake her. I can do this he tries to tell himself. If he doesn't, if he fails then the consequences will be terrible.
He doesn't sleep for the rest of the night.
*
There is a knock on the door early in the morning, and you open it to find a man you have never seen before with Marinov.
"The barber," Marinov says drily, and sees by your frown you weren't expecting him. He shrugs when you question why the man is there. "I was told to bring him."
This is unusual, because you usually trim the Winter Soldier's hair and you are never allowed to change the style.
You stand back to allow the man entrance. He is a small man, a nervous type, and tells you he usually does haircuts for the guards and other soldiers. As he is talking, the Winter Soldier comes out of the bathroom from his shower. You are worried about him. There is something wrong, but you don't know what. He won't talk to you, which at this stage is normal, but his thoughts seem to have turned inward and you feel as if he is almost avoiding you. This is could be judged as normal as well but you have caught him looking at you with such a look on his face that it makes your heart jump into your mouth.
You may not know what is going on, but the barber seems to. He has been given instructions and the Winter Soldier seems to know he would be there. It was all in the script. They go through to the bathroom and the Winter Soldier closes the door, deliberately excluding you.
About thirty minutes later the barber leaves. The Winter Soldier is still in the bathroom, and when after five minutes he has not emerged you knock gently on the door. You enter to see what is happening.
You stop dead in the doorway.
The shower stool is in the middle of the room, empty, with hair clippings all around it. The Winter Soldier is stood in just his trousers leaning on the sink looking into the mirror. He looks sick, in fact he does not just look it you realise he has been sick.
His eyes catch yours in the reflection of the mirror, and he sees your wide-eyed stare. He closes his eyes and hangs his head. You move forward, your heart beating wildly.
The man who looked at you in the mirror... it was James.
The barber has done a good job. The Winter Soldier is now sporting a much shorter hair style. But it is not just shorter. It is exactly how James had his hair when you first met him, all that time ago, in the field camp.
You move closer and put your hand on his bent back. You don't know what to say because you want to say his name, you want to call him James. You can smell the vomit on his breath. He was sick into the toilet so there is no mess to clean. You feel him take a deep breath and he straightens up, opens his eyes and turns.
*
When the barber had finished and had left, the Winter Soldier had looked in the mirror and the sight of the man looking back had shocked him. Because he recognised who he was. My name is...and he felt the bile rise in his throat and just reached the toilet in time to be sick. He hasn't eaten and all he brings up is bile, water, and blood. He goes back to the mirror because he needs to remember his name, he knows it but it is just out of reach...and when the man in the mirror stares back at him, the name burns itself into his mind. James Barnes, his friends and family call him Bucky.
He is Bucky Barnes.
He hears Freya enter, sees her reflection in the mirror. Her face looks shocked, and he knows why. He sees his name on her lips. Feels her hand on his back when she approaches him. Oh God, how he wants to turn around, to bury his face in her hair, sob, beg her to help him. Crazy ideas of escaping with her go through his mind. They could overpower the guards get out. Run away.
And then what?
He thinks of the mission, thinks of what Hydra wants him to do, and he goes cold. He cannot allow that to happen. He needs them to think he will go through with it but instead of assassinating the man he will warn him, tell him about Hydra, tell him all that he knows. Stop Hydra in its tracks.
That is what Bucky Barnes would do. And then another sentence comes into his mind. That is what Steve Rogers would want him to do.
And when that name comes into his mind so much more clicks into place. So many memories that they thought they had burned away, so many memories rescued by Zola's serum and kept safe until required.
His nose begins to bleed and stops any questions on Freya's lips. He cannot tell her. He cannot tell anyone. The one overriding thing that he knows is that Steve Rogers was his friend, his buddy...no, more than that, his lover. And Steve Rogers is dead.
This time he cannot reach the toilet in time, and is violently sick into the sink.
*
May 29 th 1963
"Not long." The words break into this thoughts and he shakes himself mentally. He needs to stay sharp, needs to stay focused. His palms are sweating, and he is fighting to keep his heart rate steady. Because he is not wearing his normal uniform there are no monitors to give him away, nothing to cause any alarm bells to ring back at headquarters. Viktor looks at him and Bucky nods. Usually Adam travels with them but today it is just himself, Viktor, and Rodion as their chauffeur.
He thinks back to yesterday. He didn't tell Freya.
He recognised the shock she had experienced when she saw him with his hair cut. He was James Barnes and it was the hardest thing ignoring the plea in her eyes, seeing the hope disappear as he fell back into his Winter Soldier persona. He had been cold towards her for the rest of the time, pretended to ignore her questions. A typical Bucky Barnes thought comes into his mind. If this doesn't work out, he could always get a career in acting. He thinks he would earn an Oscar for his performance at the moment.
This morning he is feeling sick, shaky, and he is trying to hide it from everyone. Where is his Winter Soldier strength? It feels as though his whole body is betraying him. Almost as if the serum in him knows that he is trying to hide from them. Memories are mixed together. He knows who he is, but so much of his life is missing. He still does not know how he became this other person. He remembers Steve, and he knows he is dead, but not how. Pictures flash into his mind but there is no context, nothing to back them up. It is a wonder he is still even able to stand.
Not once has he considered that he could escape, could save himself. The thought hasn't even occurred to him. He needs to complete this mission: he needs to warn the President, to tell him about Hydra.
Viktor is looking at him again, and Bucky realises he has missed something. Adam would have picked up on this distraction but Viktor does not usually deal with this part of things.
"Repeat the basic run-through," he says, and Bucky nods as if he is the Winter Soldier. He can feel the sweat run down the back of his shirt, almost smell his fear, and prays the others can't.
He is sat in the back of a black limousine, dressed in a grey suit and tie. He is here for a party. A birthday party. And the guest of honour is his target.
"I am to retrieve my weapon from the pool house. You and Rodion will provide cover whilst I get to the bedroom on the upper floor. From the south window I will target the man when he is due to cut the cake so that everyone's attention is focused on him."
"And if that doesn't happen? If something prevents that from happening?"
"I will find a subsequent time when I can take him down. I will not leave until he is dead."
*
Bucky Barnes looks across at the people stood around the table. The party is being held outside. A white tablecloth covers the table and a few flutes of champagne stand ready to be drunk in celebration. A huge cake is on a silver stand with the words Happy 46th Birthday Mr President emblazoned on the top of it. A banner flutters gently overhead, also wishing the President A Happy Birthday.
Bucky's hand is still sweating and shaking, and his guts feel like they are going to tie themselves in knots. He feels sick but light headed. The rifle he was to use is still in the pool house where he has left it. Instead, he has a hand gun down by his side in his left hand just in case. He is supposed to be in a different place. He looks out across the patio and sees the window he is supposed to be at.
It would have been a perfect position to use to kill President Kennedy.
When he arrived people looked at him oddly when they saw his left hand was bandaged. He told them that he had been in an accident and his hand was still healing. Since that time he has not mingled, kept himself apart so that there could be no awkward conversations. It was surprising how easily they were able to infiltrate the party: their invitations were valid, their assumed identities not questioned. Bucky thinks to himself that there must be someone very high-up in the government who belongs to Hydra, who arranged the deception.
He moves further forward, swallows, knowing by now that very soon both Rodion and Viktor will be alerted that something is not right, that the Winter Soldier is not where he is supposed to be. He is sweating heavily. He can feel it running down his back and his shirt is sticking to him. His suit jacket feels tight, restrictive. The tie is strangling him and he has loosened it, not realising how dishevelled he is beginning to look.
Bucky works his way through to the front of the crowd. He is to the right of the President and still nobody has stopped him. Everyone is focused on the President cutting his cake, on what he is saying, the joke he is cracking about how old he is. No-one believes that for a minute. They clap. His First Lady steps forward to help him place a piece on a plate.
Bucky is as near as he can get. And then the world slows.
One of the Presidential bodyguards turns around and looks straight at him. It is Adam Morton. The shock stops Bucky in his tracks and can see the alarm in Adam's eyes as he takes in Bucky's state, as he realises that there is something terribly wrong with the Winter Soldier. He is not where he should be up at the bedroom window, instead he is down here with the guests. Adam has infiltrated the bodyguard unit to help create havoc when the President is shot, and now he is realising that this is not going to happen.
Bucky realises his chance for surprise has been taken away from him. He can see Adam moving forward to block him. He should be feeling strong, strong enough so that no one can stop his progress...but instead he feels weak, sick, his legs are like jelly. What does he say? What can he shout to get the President's attention?
"Sir! Mr President! Please, you have to listen to me!" Bucky calls out, desperately, and moves forward but the gun is still in his hand, although still down at his side.
"He's got a gun!" he hears someone shout, and he realises the moment is slipping away. "No. I'm not going to shoot, please I'm not going to shoot!" Don't they understand? He doesn't want to shoot the President - he wants to warn him. "No, no Mr President please listen to me..." and he throws his gun down. Guests are moving backwards away from him, isolating the man in the grey suit. He looks upset, he is sweating heavily, a small ribbon of blood has started from his nose, he is agitated and they want no part of it.
"It's not me. I won't hurt you. It's Hydra, they are..." but Bucky's words are lost in his own panic. He cannot make himself understood. His hands are trembling. His mind is muddled. He is desperate.
Agents and bodyguards are swarming now, but in the middle of it he sees someone else. Sees that person telling Adam to take him down. It is his handler. It is Jackson Caldwell.
How can he be here?
Adam aims his gun and fires straight at Bucky. The bullet takes him in the right knee, shattering the bone, and Bucky goes down. He feels the bullet go through the bone and cartilage, dragging tissue with it out of the back of his leg. The pain is excruciating.
People begin to scream, begin to run.
He is struggling to get up when a second bullet from another shooter takes him in the left arm. It does no damage because of the metal but the impact knocks him backwards. He struggles to move, to get up, to fulfil his mission of warning the president.
"No..." Bucky is crying now, still trying to move forward, still trying to reach out with his hand. Blood is soaking through his trousers and then there are another two shots that take him in the chest and in his left thigh. His speech is strangled. One of the bullets has punctured one of his lungs and it begins to fill with blood.
Jackson Caldwell knows he has to get to the broken soldier fast before anyone can hear him, before any one can kill their asset. He and Adam reach the stricken man first. Adam punches him square in the chest, making Bucky fall backwards and onto the ground. As he goes down, Adam chops him on the throat, incapacitating his speech completely. Bucky's blood begins to pool and run down the cracks of the flag stones.
"I've failed. I failed. Don't make me kill him..." Bucky tries to speak, but Adam has hit him hard and damaged his throat. Caldwell kneels down next to him and leans over him. Adam stands to keep the others away.
Caldwell places his hand on Bucky's left shoulder, ensuring that he is kept down although he can see the soldier is so injured now that he could not rise without help. He leans in close so Bucky can see him, to make eye contact.
"Shh, it's all right..." Caldwell says, his voice surprisingly tender, calming. "Look at me," and Bucky's eyes flicker as his breathing hitches and gurgles. Bucky knows he is dying. He blinks as pain shoots through his broken body and his failure shoots through his mind.
"Let me go...please let me go," he tries to voice, the tone of the garbled broken words are an anguished plead to be allowed to die, for them to finally let him go. I want to go home, the words struggle through Bucky's mind. Please let me go home. Let me die.
"Red, white, and blue, it's time for you to sleep now," Caldwell says quietly.
The fail-safe words and phrase.
There is a slight widening of Bucky's eyes, but the reaction is instantaneous. His eyes roll into the back of his head and his body shudders momentarily and then relaxes as if all of the air has been let out. As if he is dead. He is completely still. Does not even appear to be breathing.
He has been taken down, deactivated. Shut down. Completely.
Jackson breathes a sigh of relief, but knows they are still not out of the woods yet. They need to get him out of here and back to base before any of the other agencies try to get to him. And before he bleeds to death or drowns in his own blood. Caldwell stands up and turns.
"The man is dead," he says loudly whilst he beckons Adam to get something to cover the body with. One of the other agents goes to step forward but Caldwell stops him and they start to argue over jurisdiction until a deeper voice stops them both.
"Are you sure he wanted to kill me? Who was he? Does he have any ID?" John F. Kennedy asks. He would not allow them to rush him away. He wants to know. There was something in the man's eyes that had tried to reach out to him, and there had been a desperation in his voice when he had called out to Kennedy.
Caldwell turns and holds out a hand.
"John, I'm so sorry. I recognise him. We have a file on him. He lost a brother in Vietnam, and they were close. He blamed the government for his brother's death, made threats, but I didn't think he would try anything. I didn't think he was a real threat. This is my fault, I'm sorry."
John F. Kennedy looks at his friend Jackson Caldwell and sees what he thinks is guilt and pain there for him.
"What you really mean is he blames me for his brother's death, don't you?" Kennedy says quietly, thinking that his friend is trying to save his feelings. He takes a deep breath and looks down at the dead man's face.
"Not your fault Jackson. I just thought for a moment..." Adam brings a white cloth over and covers the body. The President looks back up and seems to shake his head as if getting rid of an intrusive thought. "...so many nut jobs out there, you can't watch 'em all."
He pats Jackson on the shoulder and turns away.
"Well I guess the party's over," Adam says to Caldwell, who nods. Both Rodion and Viktor are already headed their way. An ambulance team has been called, only this body will not be taken to any hospital anyone here at the party has heard of. It will disappear. Case closed.
"Get him out of here quickly."
"Already on it."
*
It had taken them a while to determine what had gone wrong with the Winter Soldier's programming. The wipe logs had been checked, and it was discovered there were glaring anomalies that should have been picked up. People were getting complacent. The control panel was opened. Inside was a mess, the sugar had turned to a syrup-like glue and had created havoc. Thank God for the camera tapes in the Main Room. They accessed them and discovered the technician's blunder. The Winter Soldier had not been wiped and so the programming had not taken. Caldwell ordered for the technician to be dealt with. His ex-girlfriend had always told him his sweet tooth would kill him...but this is not quite what she had in mind.
The wipe control panel had taken time to repair. There was so much damage. When they felt the Winter Soldier was strong enough he was wiped, properly this time. They never allowed him to fully regain consciousness. He was wiped completely and comprehensively. All they left him with was his functions, training and basic knowledge of Hydra and his Constant.
What a mess it had all been.
They had gotten the Winter Soldier back and stabilised him. The failsafe word and phrase had worked perfectly. It had knocked him out completely. They then needed to let Zola's serum work on the bullet wounds. The shattered knee had to be replaced in an operation which took over six hours and a lot of skill. A specialist surgeon was brought in.
They were sure Freya had not known anything. If Barnes had told her they would have picked it up immediately from the audio in their rooms. All they had told her was that the mission had gone wrong, that they had been ambushed. They do not want anyone outside their small group to know he had regained some of his memories.
Peter and Elise had gone back over the programming records and admitted that there were several inconsistencies they had not picked up on. They had grown complacent. They promise it will not happen again. Peter is covering for Elise; something he is having to do more and more.
They will need to re-encode the Winter Soldier to ensure that the words Red, White and Blue will always shut him down completely - as it did this time. Those words must be used with the phrase 'it is time for you to sleep now' and these will always put him down in the future, but they hope they will never have to use them again.
For want of the wipe the anonymity was lost.
For want of the anonymity the innocence was lost.
For want of the innocence the soldier was lost.
For want of a soldier the true message was lost.
For want of the true message the assassination was lost.
For want of the assassination the President lived.
And all for the want of the wipe.
*
He wakes up in his room. His whole body aching. He isn't aware of it but they have wiped his mind and so he does not know why he aches. Everything in his mind is a painful blur.
He tries to sit up and groans. One knee is heavily bandaged and his chest feels tight. He feels hot and can feel his blood surging through his veins.
"No. Lie back down. Doctor's orders." Freya is there and for once he does what he is told, he is too tired to argue. His head hurts as he tries to think as she fusses over him, tucking in sheets. He lays his hand on her arm.
"Have I been on a mission?" he asks. He knows her. She is his Constant, the person who is there for when he wakes up.
"Yes," she says and tries to smile.
He nods.
"Water?" he asks. His mouth is so dry and she reaches over and picks up a cup and helps him drink.
"Did I get injured on the mission?" he asks frowning. He remembers...something?
"Yes, you did. But you completed it and have filed your mission report...now you need to sleep." She kisses his forehead.
"I didn't...fail, did I?" he has this sense of not completing something but his mind cannot hold on to the thought.
"No," she says. "You didn't fail. You have never failed."
You smile at him and he takes your word for it and falls back to sleep. It will take a couple of days more for his body to catch up with the damage done. Jackson has instructed that no-one is to ever mention anything of what happened to him: all knowledge of this mission has been completely and utterly removed from his memory.
When he is well they will wipe him once more and then you will both go back into cryo-freeze.
*
November 22nd 1963
Jackson Caldwell has just arrived back at the base after travelling through the night. There were problems with the flight, bad weather, and he has been out of communication entirely which is something he hates. He is tired and feels under the weather. He thinks he may be in for a cold. He has been given the go-ahead for the next mission. It is to be another attempt at an assassination with John F. Kennedy being the target yet again.
This time there will be no mistakes.
He has just given the order for the Constant and the Winter Soldier to be woken when there is a knock on his door.
"Come in!"
Adam Morton enters and closes the door behind him. He is carrying a facsimile of the front page of a newspaper which he places on Jackson's desk.
"We couldn't get in touch with you whilst you were travelling. Thought you would like to see tomorrow's edition of The Boston Globe. Someone has got there before us."
Caldwell looks down at the headlines.
Authors note: For image see http://i.imgur.com/kTBANQu.jpg
He picks the piece of paper up and begins to read the story, asking: "Do they know who it was?"
Adam shakes his head. "Not really at this point, just looks like some...what did Kennedy call them...nut job."
Caldwell finishes reading the story and the phone rings. He picks it up and Adam listens to the one-sided conversation.
"Yes, yes I've just heard...hmm...no, I'll cancel the order. Well, I guess fate is on our side...hmm...okay." He puts the phone down and looks at Adam.
"Cancel the order for them to be woken up, will you...I'll keep this for now."
Adam nods. "No problem, sir."
Jackson Caldwell sits back in his chair. His family and the Kennedy's have been friends for many years. He will have to attend the funeral and they will probably ask him or his father, to do one of the eulogies. Anyone who sees Jackson on the day of the funeral will have no doubt that Kennedy meant a lot to him. Meanwhile he must get in touch with the family, send his condolences. Talk to Jackie. If there is anything I can do to help.
Jackson's father will want to travel with him. He will want to make sure Jackson is there, in the right place at the right time. It is all his father has ever cared about really. He smiles to himself as he pictures just what his father will say.
Jackson knows exactly what do do and say; after all, Bucky is not the only one who would have deserved an Oscar for their acting abilities.
Hydra and his father have taught him well.