September 12th, 1943 - Austria, Kreischberg - HYDRA Weapon Facility
The air was heavy with the scent of copper and decay intertwined with engine oil and the moistness of the mold on the walls. The facility was old and the walls were more likely to hold the cold of Austria in, instead of protecting from it, therefore it was always a bit colder than comfortable, especially during the crisp autumn they experienced this year. The screeching noises from the large halls, where the prisoners worked on the weapons, almost drowned out the hard click of her heels on concrete. Slender, toned legs; a flowing skirt that stopped an inch beneath her knees; an equally brown blouse tucked in; honey-blonde hair perfectly pinned up and full lips painted in sinful, deep red. She was a sight for sore eyes, especially for the homesick soldiers, many of which were either young and horny or missed their wife just a tad too much to care about who they called after.
The woman had an air of no-nonsense and quiet confidence about her, reminding of a predator patiently awaiting for the lethal strike, all coiled muscles and sharp eyes. It had taken all but one week for the whole facility to learn, that Doctor Irene Schneider could shoot looks colder than a winter blizzard and if one wanted medical attention at one point or another, one should not dare to provoke such a look. The first who did and ended up in medical had his wound sewn together without any pain killers or anaesthetics to numb locally, although the supplies were there. It was a painful and memorable affair, a warning example not to mess with the beautiful doctor.
Her secure steps led her without failure to Arnim Zola's make-shift office. A soft rap of her knuckles and she was asked in.
"Guten Abend, Doktor (good evening, doctor)", she said as she entered, the piece of paper, that had somehow found it's way into her purse during her stay in the nearby village, held tightly in her slender fingers. The stout man looked up from his notes. "Ah, Fräulein Schneider(Ah, Miss Schneider)", he greeted and Irene suppressed a twitch of her lips. She had worked hard for her doctor's degree, certainly not so that presumptuous men could ignore it.
"Wie war Ihr kleiner Ausflug ins Dorf? (How was your small trip to the village)", he asked with a smile on his lips, his eyes shamelessly roaming her figure. Irene shook the feeling that crept down her spine and made her skin crawl.
"Ereignisreich(Eventful)", she said and showed the doctor the paper. "Ich muss mit Obergruppenführer Schmidt sprechen.(I have to talk to Obergruppenführer Schmidt)" Zola handed the piece of paper back and nodded slowly, before he agreed: "Das wäre tatsächlich eine gute Idee. (That would be a good idea, indeed)" He offered up a chair and his personal communication system with a frown on his face. His radio was the only secure one to contact the head of their organisation and with such delicate information, one could not be careful enough.
"Obergruppenführer Schmidt, bitte kommen. (Obergruppenführer Schmidt, come in please)", Irene began the radio signal. "Obergruppenführer Schmidt, bitte kommen. (Obergruppenführer Schmidt, come in please)"
"Zola?" Johann Schmidt's voice cracked through the radio.
"Irene Schneider hier, Obergruppenführer Schmidt. Es tut mir leid Sie stören zu müssen, aber Sie hatten Recht. Der Feind hat mich um Hilfe gebeten (Irene Schneider here, Obergruppenführer Schmidt. I am sorry to bother you, but you were right. The enemy has asked for my help.)", Irene immediately explained the situation. They had both anticipated this particular request for quite some time now.
"Sehr gut. Ich erwarte regelmäßige Berichterstattung. Zola wird Ihnen das Funkgerät zur Verfügung stellen. (Very good. I expect regular reports. Zola will provide his radio for that.)", Schmidt instructed in a sharp tone. Irene's lips twitched slightly. They had agreed on a plan of action a few months ago, when Irene had joined HYDRA. "Natürlich, Obergruppenführer. Ende und aus. (Of course, Obergruppenführer. Over and out.)", Irene replied with a nod, that was of course unseen except for Zola, who in all honesty was more interested in how close Irene's backside was to him, than what she said or did.
"Enttäuschen Sie mich nicht, Doktor Schneider. Ende und aus. (Do not disappoint me, Doctor Schneider. Over and out.)"
Irene took a deep breath. Schmidt's not so subtle threat was as clear as the mountain lakes around. Then she stepped away, brought a fair bit of distance between herself and Zola, before she turned to him. "Sie wissen nicht zufällig, wo ich Kruse finden kann?(You wouldn't know where to find Kruse, would you?)", she asked with a rise of her left eyebrow.
"Vermutlich in den Hallen(Probably in the halls)", he replied and glanced at the watch on his desk, "Es ist Zeit für seine Inspektionen. (It's time for his inspections.)"
"Danke, Doktor (Thank you, doctor)", Irene thanked with a nod and made her way out of the office.
"Aber natürlich, Fräulein Schneider. Besuchen Sie mich gerne öfters! (Of course, Miss Schneider. Do come more often!)", he half-shouted after her, as she didn't wait for him to finish whatever he said before leaving. Once the door clicked shut, Irene took another deep breath. Having that sleazy weasel around was more than nauseating. She shook the thought and squared her shoulders. HYDRA had recruited her for two very specific reasons, one of which had just presented itself and it was time to act, Irene was eager to start. She needed to find Kruse, so she could inform him about the latest developments and warn him in advance, that she soon would need transportation to the front.
A sly grin found it's way on her lips, as her eyes turned colder yet and any HYDRA officer she met shied away from her with a respectful nod. Finally things started to come together.
A/N: Hello to all, who took a chance with this story. I'm trying something new here and hope I'm not butchering everything with my mediocre knowledge of History. (But fear not, I'm researching the sh* out of WWII right now!) Also something new I'm trying: The story is almost completely plotted, but not yet written. At the moment I've got around 7-8k words and as motivated as I am currently, feedback always helps boosting that motivation further. So if you'd like to drop me a line, it'd be greatly appreciated.
As you're aware, this is going to be a Bucky/OC story. Just a fair warning: it's going to be a slow burn!
The idea of a Bucky/OC story rumbled about in my head for some months now in many different variations, but it really only bloomed into a solid thought, once I stumbled over the idea of spies. So this, my dear friends, is the merge of those two ideas.
I've got one thing to ask of you, though: There will be a whole lot of German and French in this story...at the moment I'm handling the translation as you see above. Please, could you tell me whether that's distracting for the flow of the story? Would you like it more, if the translations were at the end of the chapter?