Lightning struck the sky once more and water kept shooting at the endless road before the car Natasha had stuck to since Cologne, highlighted by the headlights. Silence ruled the atmosphere in the vehicle, but it was a comfortable one. Everyone but the spy was asleep and with the three soldiers breathing regularly, the redhead switched from Sam's annoying 40's music to a radio station that broadcasted traffic news on their area of the Autobahn. With those dark clouds in front of the sky and the gallons of water on the asphalt, she was certain there'd be accidents and traffic ahead.
Natasha sent a look towards her phone in the main console. Next to it, a sleepy Steve, with his arms crossed and his wide frame buried back deep into the small car seat. She eyed his blonde hair. It had gotten longer and some of it was hanging into his face. America's poster boy. Still 26. Steve was, to be honest, almost as young as her, they were amongst the youngest of the Avengers, but carried so much of the burden.
Right now, Steve was just the boy he could never be, in a moment of peace, asleep, without any expectations to him, with no one telling him what to be or what to do. Natasha sighed. She was delighted the blonde rested. His behavioral changes before had not passed her analyzing eyes, she had noticed how fast he had offered to take watch in the motel despite his obvious exhaustion. This was in no way just his normal level of sacrifice, no, she knew it was deeper and that she had figured out from Sam's compassionate mimics. Maybe something had happened in Wakanda. Something was wrong with Steve Rogers and she prayed he'd be alright now that James was with them. But it was a lame hope because even a best friend could not fix the gaping wounds still tearing the super-soldier's soul apart. A muffled sound made her snap out of her thoughts, made her eyebrows raise when she noticed an incoming call. Making sure none of the others were awake, she took it, whispering replies to the caller.
Steve woke up to the relentless thrumming of rain onto the car's roof and windows. But there was something else he made out, a hushed voice. With the first words, he knew that it was probably not meant for his ears, so he made no signs of waking up. He was aware that eavesdropping always caused trouble, it had eighty-five years ago, when his Ma pulled him away from the kitchen door by the ear, and surely, it hadn't changed since then. Maybe this was just one of the few things that would never change. Like overbearing grandmas. Or secretive spies.
Natasha went on, not aware of her listener.
"As I said. - No, I have them. - I will deliver. - Yes, I'll keep you in the loop. - They don't suspect anything. - Good." She put the phone back into the middle, between Steve's and her seat and he started rubbing his eyes. His heart pounded fast. Would she know? Had she noticed?
"Who was that?", he murmured, but got no answer. Natasha kept her eyes on the road. Was she thinking about what to say? That couldn't be good. Was she keeping something? He prayed she was not, he couldn't deal with any secrets right now.
"Nat?"
"Don't worry. Just have to keep my ears everywhere. Nothing spectacular."
Steve nodded but really hated what was going on. Why did it sound like the spy was hiding something from him? If she needed to communicate with the spy community, he was fine with that, but They don't suspect anything? That didn't sound like a regular exchange of information at all. Who did she mean by They? Steve, Sam and Buck? Or the CIA?
"I heard some of your conversation, you know", Steve decided to confront his friend. Would she try to find an excuse? Would she answer him at all? In the best case scenario, she would share information, who she'd been calling, what was going on or if they had to prepare for worse. He gulped. He knew one thing - dodging answers meant hiding the truth. He couldn't trust her if she did that.
"It's none of your business."
Steve was at a loss of words. Natasha was straight to the point and while he appreciated that she didn't try to make up a lie, this situation shattered him. Either she didn't trust him enough to share the truth with him or - or what? How was he supposed to trust her like this?
Another bolt of lightning struck, sending a glaring light through the car. The thunder afterward was the more majestic force though, sending the two dozing soldiers on the backseats into a jolt.
"Holy", Sam huffed and scratched his arms. "If that's our Space Prince, I'll..."
Another set of thunder rolled over the car.
"It's right above us", Natasha informed, motioning towards the radio. "They already reported several accidents on the A2, which is the Autobahn we're driving on."
Right then, the music stopped and the news were back. Nat raised the volume. The German guy listed traffic for all the different Autobahn routes and Natasha and Bucky listened carefully. When it was over, they both looked almost the same, disappointed.
"We might not reach Augsburg tonight. But we'll go as far as we can and just wait until the thunder and the rain are over", she decided and Steve watched her from the side. Was that part of her plan? Did she even have a plan besides the one they all followed? His fingers pulled into fists. How was he supposed to get them all out of this if the situation was getting more complex by the minute and people just kept crucial information to themselves!?
"Maybe we should inform Lomawu", Sam pointed out, holding up the little silver device.
"Where did you get that?", Barnes suddenly rushed and reached out to snatch it right out of Sam's hand.
"Hey! That's our backup call right there, so..."
But the unwavering brunet had already opened his window and thrown the little bead towards another car, it stuck there, the little green blinking disappearing in the stormy night. Steve turned around in his seat, willing to take control of the situation, but Sam was faster.
"What the hell, man!? T'Challa's secret service gave this to us for safety!"
Sam was annoyed and not afraid to finally show it. All the frustration of the last days poured into his words. Bucky just huffed.
"There is no safety with Hydra sniffin' around for ya. The more strings ya cut, the more likely it is you'll survive. No wonder they knew your location."
Maybe he was right, Steve thought. Bucky always knew what he was doing, before everything. He knew Hydra. And no matter how stupid the act seemed to be, it meant that he had decided to protect them, everyone in this car. Maybe Bucky had been wrong, but what if he was right?
The news speaker once again interrupted the scene.
"Nun zu den aktuellesten Informationen zum gestrigen Mordfall in Köln. Gerade veröffentlichte der Polizeisprecher des Hauptpräsidiums Köln Details um den Mord in der Engelsstraße. Eine Leiche wurde unter einem Auto im Innenhof gefunden, der Fahrer befindet sich in Untersuchungshaft. Spezialisten gehen jedoch davon aus, dass der Mord mit dem Auftauchen von Captain America sowie den vorherigen Geschehnissen in Paris und Brüssel verbunden werden kann. Es ist 21:32 Uhr."
"What did they say?"
Natasha looked worried and Steve was sure he hadn't understood the basic message of the news although he'd been under the impression that his German wasn't that bad. Natasha translated for the others.
"They found a body in Cologne. Under the other car in the parking lots. They think it was us and link it to Paris and Brussels."
Steve's mind replayed the events of the night before. The murder had been so close.
Sam, however, turned to Bucky right away. His voice sounded almost like a growl by now.
"Anything you wanna tell us? Now would be the time."
"I didn't kill anybody in Cologne."
"Oh yeah? You sure were in the mood. Steve didn't look so happy with all that metal around his neck. Who was the guy under the car?"
Bucky growled back, body all tense.
"I don't know."
"Guys, keep it down", Natasha warned.
"I said I didn't kill anybody."
"Why would I believe that?"
"Guys, I'll stop the car!"
Thunder struck again and this time, it made the entire air vibrate. Steve felt like the air was charged with electricity. Light and darkness took turns. It sounded like someone was panting.
But then, there was a worrisome and eerie silence. All of the sudden, something hit the back of his seat. Bucky, no, the Soldier, held his metal hand over Sam's mouth. Sam hit everything around him. Coldness was all the Soviet's eyes showed. His other hand reached for something down his leg. Where his handgun was. Please, God. Not again.
"Bucky, stop!", Steve called out. He already loosened his seatbelt and tried to reach back.
This time, it was him delivering a punch right into the face of the other. It loosened the Soldier's grip on Sam. A Sam who punched back. A knife whirled around, slashing through seats and clothes. The Winter Soldier. Steve was holding him down but received a cut on his arm. Nat yelled lost words. Suddenly, Sam managed to get Bucky into a chokehold. The soldier resisted. Three seconds. He should be back to his senses by now, right? Could they snap him out of it by choking him? Six seconds.
"Sam, let go", Steve ordered when Bucky whined, his body slowing down. But Sam didn't. Eight. Bucky had already passing out. Enough!
"Steve?", Natasha asked.
"Sam", Steve warned, more authority in his voice. The two men battled each other with looks, but Sam obeyed. Twelve. Finally. He released Bucky and the latter slumped into his seat. Steve sent Sam a sharp glare that was returned with a very pointed eyebrow.
It took the brunette a few seconds until his eyes fluttered back open. The murderous stare disappeared and Steve sighed heavily. Let's not repeat that. Ever.
"Ты в порядке?" Natasha's voice was soft now, full of gentleness. Are you alright?
"да." Yes. The reply sounded much throatier than his normal voice.
"Boys, I know this weather's perfect for scary stories, but let's keep it down to what we've already seen, okay? We don't need any more quarreling. Save it for Hydra."
Sam raised his hands defensively, but his eyes never the gun he'd placed next to his leg. For next time. Whenever that was.
"You don't need to tell me that."
"I'm talking to everyone."
"I didn't kill in Cologne. It's psychological warfare", Bucky mumbled and Steve was surprised he was still talking at all. The Soviet assassin frowned like these were memories not worthy of being remembered, "It's what she does. You win a battle fastest if you can make sure your enemy never shows up in the first place. She must've been there the whole time, watching us. Letting us know we're not safe anywhere...", his voice trailed off.
A shiver ran down Steve's spine. It worked, he couldn't deny that. Almost immediately, his eyes flickered back and forth through the wet glass in front of him, as if he was gonna spot the Remnant's shape in the next car. Or on one of the bridges going over the Autobahn. Was she here? He pushed it away, telling himself how impossible it was for the Remnant to attack them right now, to even find them here, in the darkness somewhere on the most high-speed streets in Germany. But the uncertainty lingered. Was it really impossible?
A bone-shaking jolt threw Steve against Natasha. The car roared, it screamed as the burst echoed through its inside. It crashed through the guardrails, tore through bushes until reaching the trees. Glass burst, Buck's arm hit windows and metal alike. Sam's head collided with something hard. He lost consciousness. Natasha was screaming. Steve wrapped around her, protecting her body from the impact when the car smashed into a tree.
It stood, still thrumming with thunderous noise. All Steve could hear was his blood rushing in his head as the stitches on his ear were ripped open. The Remnant. Crap. She's here.
Bucky steadied the Skorpion in his hand, his eyes analyzing the entire surrounding area.
"Stay down", he ordered darkly.
"Do you see her?"
No reply came, Bucky was silent as he watched all the cars that passed the destroyed side planks. He slowly stepped out although the worry in Steve's eyes told him not to, Natasha still in his arms.
Bucky walked around the vehicle, gun raised and ready, his steps exactly like those of a hunting cat, careful, slow, ready.
Steve noticed how heavy he himself was breathing and how his blood dripped onto Natasha's neck. She'd passed out from the impact despite being buried safely in his arms, but her eyes already fluttered back open already and she sniffed. Blood ran out her nose.
"Hey", Steve whispered and put a finger to his lips. Be quiet. She nodded.
"Sniper?", all she could manage was a croaked whisper anyway.
Right then, Buck waved in front of their window, calling them to step out of the car and to follow him. Untangling Steve from Natasha was hard, he was a giant perched between her body and the steering wheel, his arm somehow going through the steering wheel and ripping it out while also wrapping around her neck. Steve blushed a little when she tried to get her leg free, but kicked his supporting foot so that he crashed into her completely. She just let out a groan at the sudden weight.
Bucky just rolled his eyes when he had to pull both of them through the deranged door.
"Look at this", he motioned at the wheel where the front right tire should've been. The flashlight showed the bare wheel that was only covered by scraps of rubber.
"The tire burst, but there are no bullet marks anywhere."
"So, no sniper. I mean, it makes sense, it's way too dark for that." Steve looked relieved, but then he saw the expression on Bucky's face. He was choosing his words carefully.
"I can work in this light. So can she", he paused and Steve couldn't help but shiver a little. Bucky had always been a great sniper, but the way he stated his abilities - it made him think of Hydra, of Zola and to what ends they had gone to create perfect assassins, killers. Plus, he had no idea how to stop them, especially not now, with their car trashed. Steve tried to keep it all in, but the burden was growing heavier with each step.
"Our tire was sabotaged before we even got into the car to run from the CIA. It wasn't them. It was her. The Remnant." He looked up, meeting Steve's eyes. "Like I said, psychological warfare. She's professional, she knows what she's doing. Tasha, help me wipe the car. Get rid of all traces. We'll have to disappear as fast as possible."
London
Janet rushed upwards, her heart pounding fast. It was all a dream, just a dream, she thought while trying to calm herself. It always happened, every time she was too stressed. Now was just another of these phases where she didn't get enough sleep because work was overly demanding and haunted her in her dreams. This time, the office had been under attack by a faceless shooter. Nothing she hadn't seen in her nightmares before.
Janet shook herself, quietly pressing a kiss to her still sleeping husband's forehead - to which he replied with an incomprehensible mumble. She went to the kitchen of her small and neatly organized apartment to get a coffee. It didn't let her go, that they hadn't been able to identify the person who had attacked Steve Rogers in Cologne. That there were no traces they could use and that this obviously high-skill fighter had disappeared right then. She'd done some research when she came home last night, mainly because her unit had been fixed on Rogers instead of the attacker and Henderson had a feeling that there was more behind the whole case.
But her search had been short and useless. Her tiredness had overwhelmed her and she had been lucky that she still made it to bed.
Janet returned to the office quickly after that, not even bothering to have a proper breakfast. She ate on the way. As soon as she saw Neesa, looking fresh as ever, but with a frown that expressed something entirely else, Janet was very grateful for the scones she'd had on the go. Whatever it was, taking bad news on an empty stomach was the worst you could do.
"What did he do?", she asked her assistant.
"It wasn't Whittaker. It's our team securing intel in the house Rogers and Wilson stayed in."
"Cologne. What happened?"
Neesa looked at her with an expression Janet had seen before. Sadly.
"It was an accident. We sent in four, and all four of them are dead now."
"No."
"No one checked into their server since yesterday. Last night, we didn't receive any of the obligatory updates and when we sent someone in, all four agents were found dead. No signs of a struggle, but no clear lab results yet either."
"Shit."
"You could say that."
Henderson sighed, her thoughts were circling again, even wilder than in the morning.
"An accident. Do you really believe that?"
"That's the police's assessment."
Yeah, that wasn't enough to convince Janet. This wasn't a coincidence, four corpses in the house Rogers and Wilson had slept in a night before, where the CIA had almost caught them. Could it have been Rogers himself? Would he kill CIA agents? He wasn't that reckless.
Suddenly, her watch vibrated softly. She typed in her password to see she'd received a notification.
It was from the special agent dispatched to Cologne, the one who had found his colleagues dead. A new entry in the team's classified case file. It seems like the apartment belongs to Natasha Romanoff. Henderson closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. Bloody hell. So the Black Widow was really going around to kill their agents one by one. A pattern? None. After London and Miami, she'd added Cologne to the list. Was she trying to protect Rogers and Wilson from them?
Speculation over speculation crashed through Janet's head, leaving her with a burning headache. The Black Widow. She'd stolen their documents, their money, killed a number of their agents and followed them. What was her ultimate goal?
As soon as Janet entered the big office that was quieter than usual, she looked up to see a dark-haired agent on the right, tears in his eyes. On the other side, crumpled into an office chair, a woman with balled fists. They'd lost parts of their families today.
She wouldn't just let this happen and forget what it meant. Janet felt with her team. She'd react. Even if the world said it was an accident, she'd know better.
"I'm sorry for what happened today, team. We lost agents. We lost family members. But we won't let that fall behind, we'll keep them with us, even in these times where we can't say what will happen next. But you all know Natasha Romanoff; Russian spy, not afraid to leave bodies behind. We have a suspicion she killed our team in Cologne. My condolences to everyone who lost a companion today. So team, let's engage for justice. Let's make sure Romanoff won't get away with this. That they", she pointed at the empty office chairs, "didn't die in vain."
Her coworkers nodded, faces grateful for the empathy building up in the room. After a few minutes, everyone was back to work while Janet watched Colin give her silent nod from the other side of the room. Well done. She sighed. This mission was gonna be her end. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to sleep this night, with all the added stress straining her nerves.
Neesa came up to Janet, standing by her side to give her the news without everyone listening.
"Police found the car Steve Rogers used to get away from Paris, Gare du Nord. You should take a look at this."
She unsuspiciously handed Janet a photo.
Janet's eyes went over it without emotion, but she wasn't sure if she understood what Neesa wanted to tell her.
"See the blood stains on the seat? Forensics also found napkins that were soaked with blood. Napkins from a café located at the station in Paris. Blood identifiable as Steve Rogers' blood."
"But we had information confirming they didn't suffer any injuries."
"Like I said, we should take a look at this. Maybe our base of intelligence isn't quite as reliable as we thought."