Chasing Ghosts, Part I

Chapter 2

Five Weeks Ago

The words "Captain America" used to open a lot of doors in the '40s. Turned out, the magic in those words hadn't faded much. The Pentagon had a lot of doors, but Steve had only needed to get through one.

He had been waiting patiently for almost fourteen minutes when the general came back to his office suite.

"Well, well," the man drawled in his thick Kentucky accent. "Steve Rogers, as I live and breathe."

Steve stood quickly, naturally coming to attention, but stuck out his hand in lieu of saluting. "General Rayburn, sir."

Lieutenant General William Rayburn—Wild Billy to his friends—accepted the handshake, but clucked his tongue. "Now, none of this 'General, sir' stuff, Rogers, I told you to call me Bill."

Rayburn was in charge of the Army's Personnel Department, or G-1, and had helped Steve sort out his status after S.H.I.E.L.D. recovered him from the Arctic. It helped immensely that Rayburn was the youngest son of Chester Rayburn, who'd been a sergeant in the 107th in 1943, alongside one Bucky Barnes. He and Steve had hit it off immediately.

Steve grinned and motioned around the room. "I see retirement still hasn't caught up with you, Bill."

"They'll have to blast me out of this office," the gray-headed man quipped, motioning for Steve to move into his private office. Once inside, safely behind closed doors, the general arched an eyebrow. "I notice a little stiffness, there, Steve. Are you supposed to be out of the hospital this early?"

Steve smirked. "Docs said I was making the other multiple gunshot wound patients jealous. They booted me out."

Rayburn circled around to his chair and sat, gesturing for Steve to do the same. "Still, must be something up for you to fight through six security checkpoints to see me."

Steve smiled ruefully. The aftermath of the battle and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s collapse had made getting into any governmental building a massive headache, even for the personnel who worked in them. "I, uh...I need a favor, Bill. A big one."

"I doubt there's anyone in D.C. that wouldn't grant you anything you asked for, Cap," Rayburn mused quietly, obviously waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.

"Actually, it's not for me. I'm here on behalf of a prisoner of war. He's been held captive for a long time, and I'm going to need help getting him settled once he's brought home."

Rayburn's interest was clearly piqued. "This POW have a name?"

Steve took a deep breath. Here we go... "Sergeant James Barnes."

The general blinked a few times, as though he hadn't heard what Steve said. Then he frowned and leaned back in his chair. "Um...would this be the same Sergeant Barnes who saved my old man's life in a German camp in 1943?"

Steve swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"Bucky Barnes. The Howling Commando. Fell to his death in 1944...that James Barnes?"

"That's right, sir."

Rayburn eyed Steve closely. "Are you sure you should be out of the hospital this soon, Steve?"

"Bill, I know how it must sound—"

"Do you?" Rayburn arched an eyebrow. "Steve, my dad told me and my brothers a hundred different stories about Bucky Barnes. North Africa, Italy, Azzano... Now, I know your story, Cap, but if I hadn't met you, I'd've never believed it, and by your own reports, Barnes died in the Alps seventy years ago. Now, you're saying he's still alive."

Steve sighed softly. He'd reached the point of the story where most people stopped listening and started arguing. "You watched the news the last few weeks? Some of my friends and I were ambushed near Virginia Avenue by a hit squad. A lot of collateral damage. Most of it by an assassin with a metal arm."

Rayburn's face stayed neutral. He was probably a hell of a poker player. "That's Barnes. The guy with the arm?"

Steve filled Rayburn in on the entire story, shying a little away from the "assassin for HYDRA" parts but staying completely upfront about the torture, apparent mental conditioning and amnesia aspects. The old SSR files were very detailed about the various atrocities HYDRA inflicted on their prisoners. Steve had read them all back in '43 after Bucky's first stint as a POW, though he'd kept that fact from Bucky. He hadn't felt great about prying, but he'd only been trying to look out for his friend. Bucky had read all of the reports from Steve's myriad doctor visits in the '30s when Steve hadn't wanted to talk about it, and turnabout was fair play. He'd just sidestepped telling Buck to avoid getting a punch in the mouth. Steve wasn't entirely comfortable discussing it all with other people now, even seventy years later, but he needed Rayburn to understand that Bucky...wasn't Bucky when he'd been under Pierce's control.

When he finished his tale, Rayburn was fidgeting silently with a pen, eyeing Steve. "Any clue how he's still alive and...well, still young?"

Steve frowned. "We're...still working on that part. Some of my friends are suggesting something called 'cryogenics.' But, we really don't have any evidence, yet."

"That's where they freeze someone, right?"

"Yes, sir." Steve shrugged. "It's our best guess right now."

After a long period of silence, the general spoke. "I assume that Barnes is still out there, somewhere, since he didn't come with you. I'm guessing you don't know where he is, either."

"I'm going to find him," Steve replied firmly. "But, I need to know I'll have— He's not himself right now, Bill. He needs help."

Rayburn sighed, eyes drifting to study the pictures on his wall for a few moments. One of them was a photo of his father and Bucky taken in Morocco in 1942. Steve had seen it when he'd first met the general. "Look, Steve, getting Barnes POW status and all that...it's doable. It'll be a mountain of the strangest paperwork I've ever had to sign off on, but it won't be impossible. But, you've got a much bigger problem."

Steve blinked. "What's that?"

"Barnes isn't just a POW. He's a terrorist. He was seen on television shooting up the freeway. Blowing up police cars—with policemen inside. You were there, you know what went down better than I do."

"I know he—"

"Steve," Rayburn interrupted. "Think for a second. The people who sent him after you are dead. Even with knowledge that HYDRA is still out there, Barnes is the most visible character on the board. Congress, the FBI, the public, they're all going to want a pound of flesh for what went down in the streets and over Roosevelt Island."

Steve deflated a little. He'd been running on fumes ever since leaving the hospital, and hadn't stopped to really consider the depth and breadth of the trouble Bucky was facing. He'd been focusing on finding his friend, not the notion of defending him to the masses.

"What he needs is immunity from prosecution." Rayburn added suddenly.

Steve blinked. "Immunity?"

"Yeah, and fast, before the yahoos in Congress who've been grilling Romanoff get Barnes in their sights. I can get the paperwork ready for when and if you find him and bring him in, but unless you get DoJ to sign off on him, this is all pointless."

"So," Steve said slowly, trying to iron out his options. "I should be beating down the Attorney General's door?"

Rayburn laughed bitterly. "Have you seen the news? The Bureau and the Capitol Police are all in knots over S.H.I.E.L.D. falling, and the AG, she's busy lining up the survivors of Pierce's cabal in front of a firing squad...you won't get the time of day over there."

"If not them, where would I begin?" Steve asked.

"Have you tried calling your Congressman?" The general replied with a coy smile.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Steve smiled ruefully. "From the hospital. Turns out she was a HYDRA sleeper agent. Got arrested two days ago."

Rayburn chuckled and shook his head. "Ain't that a kick in the pants."

Frowning in frustration, Steve spread his hands helplessly. "So, what do you suggest, Bill?"

The general smiled deviously. "Off the record? I suggest you go over their heads, Cap."

Steve pondered that for a moment, then nodded and stood. He already had an idea about how to go about that. "Thanks, Bill. I appreciate the help."

"Anytime." Rayburn stood, shaking Steve's hand once more.

Steve turned and headed for the door, only to be stopped when Rayburn called after him. "Hey, Cap? If that really is Barnes...bring him home, would ya? I'd love to be able to show my kids that their grandpa's stories were all true."

"Yes, sir." Steve smiled and left the office.

CAP WS CAP WS CAP WS CAP

Three Days Later

The French doors in the waiting area opened sooner than Steve anticipated. He'd only been waiting for precisely twenty-three minutes. A stocky man with salt and pepper hair stepped through, extended his hand, and smiled politely at him. "Captain Rogers? I'm Roy McCrerey."

Steve stood, returning the handshake. "Nice to meet you."

McCrerey smiled. "It's an honor to meet you, sir. If you'll follow me?"

Steve followed him through the double doors, past the Marine sentry, into the West Wing of the White House. "I gotta admit, I didn't think the President's Chief of Staff would see me without an appointment."

McCrerey glanced at him briefly, expression unreadable. "The name Steve Rogers gets attention when it shows up on a guest list, Captain."

Steve kept pace with the shorter man, eyeing the rooms as they walked down the hallway. He frowned when he noticed they didn't stop at the door placard labeled "Chief of Staff," but kept moving down the corridor. "Um, I think we—"

He noted a change in the layout as the staffer stopped in front of a different door.

"If you'll step through here, please?" McCrerey's mouth had shifted into a faint smirk as he held open the door to the Oval Office. He lowered his voice. "I told you, sir, your name on a guest list gets attention."

Stepping into the room, Steve immediately spotted President Ellis, who was reading a report behind his desk. The gray-haired man looked up and broke into a grin, all but bounding out of his chair and around the desk. "Captain! When I said I'd see you in person next time, I didn't think it'd be this soon."

Steve stood at attention as he shook Ellis' hand. "I'm honored you'd see me at all, Mr. President. Especially on such short notice."

"Are you kidding? My kids would disown me if they found out you'd been in the building and I hadn't invited you in!" Ellis gestured toward the sofas. "Please, have a seat. So, what brings you here, Captain?"

Silently hoping that Ellis proved as open as Rayburn, Steve launched into Bucky's story. As he had with the general, he didn't spare the darker parts of what he knew of HYDRA's torturous machinations. As he came to the end of his narrative, Steve didn't pull punches about the Winter Soldier and the recent battles on the streets of the District. He couldn't afford to play coy or protect his best friend's privacy, not if he wanted to get the assistance he needed from the President of the United States.

Ellis, for his part, listened to the story with a mixture of surprise, fascination and horror. He interrupted occasionally to clarify a point, but otherwise took in the tale in silence. When Steve wrapped up, Ellis pulled off his glasses and sighed.

"My God, Steve...I'm so sorry. They've kept one of our boys prisoner all this time. It's...horrifying."

"I appreciate that, sir." Steve answered soberly. "And, that's actually why I'm here. I'm going to find Sergeant Barnes and bring him home. He's been a prisoner of war for far too long. I owe him, as his C.O. and as his friend." Steve's eyes dropped to the coffee table between them. "I owe him more than that. But, I can start here."

Ellis, to his credit, didn't question any of it. "Have you talked to the DoD?"

Steve nodded. "I have, sir. They're willing to grant Bucky POW status and anything else he might need, but I was told they wouldn't be able to do anything about the criminal charges he might be up against. HYDRA gave the orders, but it was Bucky who shot up—"

"You need him pardoned," Ellis cut in, nodding quickly. "I get it, Cap."

The President chewed his lip for a moment, then stood and walked to one of the windows facing the Rose Garden. Steve waited silently, knowing this was the so-called Moment of Truth. If Ellis helped him, it meant Steve had taken a huge step forward in helping Bucky. If he didn't...

Ellis chuckled softly, shaking his head as he stared out the window. "Captain America needs my help. After everything you've done for your country, son, there shouldn't be any favor too big for you to ask..." He turned, a troubled expression on his face. "But, I'm the Commander-and-Chief, Steve. I need something from you."

Steve's eyes narrowed slightly, not sure what was coming, but he tried to keep his expression calm. "Sir?"

The President settled against the edge of his desk, fixing Steve with a stern look. "I was elected in 2012 on a wave of hysteria. New York City had been invaded by aliens from outer space. I've been at this game a long time, and I have no illusions about why I beat out a very popular incumbent. I campaigned on a platform of making this country safe. But, in the last eighteen months, that psychopath the Mandarin kidnapped me right off Air Force One, my Vice-President turned out to be a traitor, and now, we find out that Alexander Pierce was building his own personal HYDRA cult inside the world's most sophisticated intelligence and security agency, all while using one of our own war heroes as his pet assassin against his will—not to mention the damage to your reputation, Captain."

Steve glanced downward. He'd been part of that, too, even if he hadn't known it. Ultimately, he was as guilty as Nick Fury when it came to not having seen the serpent hiding under his nose. Ellis, however, didn't seem interested in Steve's culpability.

"To be frank, my administration has faced one national security disaster after another. So, I'll make a deal with you, Steve. I'll do whatever is necessary to help you find your friend and get him whatever help he needs. Treatment, amnesty, the whole shebang. In exchange, you're going back on active duty."

Steve blinked. "Excuse me?"

Ellis shrugged. "You were never really off the active list, Cap. They kept you listed as MIA after 1945, and technically, as far as the Pentagon was concerned, you were on detached duty to Fury. So, liberty's over, soldier. I want HYDRA out of our borders. Hell, I want them off the planet, but first things first. We start here at home."

Steve wasn't sure going back to the Army was the best idea. He needed to focus on Bucky, first and foremost. Hunting down HYDRA was a full time job. "Mr. President—"

The older man held up his hand. "I don't expect you to wear the uniform full time. You'll have complete autonomy while searching for Barnes. But, HYDRA needs to go and that hall in the Smithsonian tells me that you're the man to do it. Pick whoever you need, Army, Navy, Air Force, hell, call in those Avengers of yours, I don't care. The only man I insist on attaching to you is Colonel Rhodes. He needs to be included."

"Rhodey's a good man," Steve conceded with a smile.

"Damn right he is," Ellis smiled in return. "Frankly, my administration put a lot of effort into putting him in the spotlight of our national security, and we need the public to see that's still where our priorities lie, especially now, considering that I'm going to have to go on TV tonight and declare S.H.I.E.L.D. a terrorist organization.

"You go ahead and find Barnes, bring him home. But, HYDRA's got to be number two on your list. Eighty or ninety percent of your time will still be yours, but you'll be on the Army payroll again. Every now and then they might call you in...training, an op here and there, even some old fashioned PR. Trust me, we need all the good PR we can get, right now. People are scared, and you still carry a lot of weight publically. If you can give me that, I will make sure you have all the help you need to save your friend. You have my word."

Steve let the words soak in for a moment. "You...sound like you've put a lot of thought into this, sir."

Ellis leveled a sly grin at him. "You were already going to get another video call this afternoon. You just beat me to the punch by showing up."

Nodding, Steve stood and drew himself to attention in front of Ellis' desk. "HYDRA made this personal for me, sir. They were already on my list. I'll do whatever you want if it means I can help Bucky." He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. There was always going to be a price, and now he knew what it was. "You have a deal, Mr. President."

The President stood and offered his hand. Steve accepted, but didn't let go right away. "But, I need this is writing."

Far from being offended, Ellis laughed out loud. "Ha! Good man! You've learned how Washington works already. Hang around for a bit. I'll have some lunch sent up, get the White House Counsel up here and we'll draw up a contract."

Steve smiled. "Very good, sir. Uh, one more person I'd like along with me...?"

"Name 'em."

"Sam Wilson, Air National Guard. He's a counselor over at the VA."

Ellis snapped his fingers. "Wilson, Wilson...he's the one with the wings, right?"

"That's right. I'd like him in addition to Colonel Rhodes. He'll need a paycheck if he's coming with me."

"Done," Ellis gestured to the sofas again. "Now, get settled in while I make the calls." He smiled again. "I get to tell my son I ate lunch with Captain America, today."

Steve sat, rolling the conversation over in his mind. Going back to the Army was unexpected, but didn't chafe as much as he thought it might after two years working for S.H.I.E.L.D. In a way, he was finally coming home. Ultimately, wearing the uniform again, even if only part-time, was a bargain if it meant he had official support for finding Bucky.

He was signing papers in General Rayburn's office by the afternoon.

CAP WS CAP WS CAP WS CAP

The Next Day

The graveyard was peaceful. A soft breeze ruffled the green foliage around them. Steve might have appreciated the calm—especially after the insanity of the past two weeks—but the dark thoughts racing around his mind prevented it. Staring at the polished new tombstone before them, he couldn't help but think of another, marking an empty grave in Arlington.

"So, you've experienced this sort of thing before?"

Steve almost shot back with "No, I've never experienced my best friend trying to kill me after being brainwashed for half a century" before he realized that Nick Fury was talking about seeing one's own grave from the outside. He'd missed the funeral while he was laid up in the hospital, but from what Natasha had said, it was a fairly low-key affair. Appropriate for one of the world's greatest spymasters.

He shut down the bitter train of thought and shrugged, aiming for amiable but probably missing by miles. "You get used to it."

Fury didn't seem to notice his barely suppressed attitude. "We've been data-mining HYDRA's files. Looks like a lot of the rats didn't go down with the ship."

Frowning, Steve returned his gaze to Fury's headstone. The escape of many HYDRA operatives from S.H.I.E.L.D. was troubling, but expected. There'd been so many it had always been unlikely that they were all aboard the Helicarriers or caught inside the Triskelion. In a way though, it would aid Steve's upcoming efforts. It was always easier to spot nests when bugs were moving around. He mentioned none of that, or his own personal mission, to Fury. Steve could compartmentalize, too. If the satisfaction of keeping Fury in the dark felt a little petty, so be it.

"I'm headed to Europe tonight," Fury continued. "Wanted to ask if you'd come."

Steve kept his gaze down. "There's something I have to do first," He said, not slamming the proverbial door on Nick, but not committing to anything, either. Bucky was his only priority at the moment.

Nick turned to Sam, who'd been quietly watching Steve that whole time. "What about you, Wilson? I can use a man with your abilities."

Sam was watching Steve so closely that it made Steve think Sam was seeing right through him. Am I that transparent? Natasha had said he was a terrible liar, but Steve never realized that he was such an open book. Had he always been? Maybe I'm just getting old.

He felt old.

"I'm more of a soldier than a spy," Sam answered easily.

Fury nodded, face hard to read behind his dark sunglasses. "All right, then." He shook hands with Sam and Steve in turn, then motioned toward his grave. "Anybody asks for me, tell 'em they can find me right here."

He moved off, leaving Steve and Sam alone at the grave. Natasha's voice cut through the silence as she approached from the other side of the cemetery. "You should be honored. That's about as close as he gets to saying 'thank you.'"

Steve smiled faintly, turning to meet her. Any animosity that had grown between them after the incident on the Lemurian Star had faded a lot during his stay in the hospital. Bigger forces had been playing her as much as they played him. Steve felt that he understood her somewhat better, now that it was all over. He nodded in Fury's direction. "You're not going with him?"

"No," She answered emphatically. His smile slipped some.

"But, you're not staying here..."

Natasha smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I blew all my covers. I gotta go figure out a new one."

"That might take a while," Steve replied.

"I'm counting on it." She looked genuinely happy about it. She paused, watching him for a moment before holding out a thick, aged file folder. There was Russian script on the cover. "That thing you asked for...I called in a few favors from Kiev."

Steve didn't want to think about the kind of favors she must have been owed to find it. He eyed the old KGB file like it would bite him, but took it.

Before he could open it, she continued. "Will you do me a favor?" He looked up and eyed her questioningly. "Call that nurse?"

Arching an eyebrow, Steve couldn't help but smile a little. "She's not a nurse."

"And you're not a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent," she shot back.

It was true; Steve couldn't hide behind the co-worker taboo anymore. He had genuinely liked Kate...even though that wasn't her name and he hadn't known she'd been there to spy on him. Guard him, whatever. "What's her name, again?" Her real name...

"Sharon. She's nice." Natasha said, smiling almost sadly.

Steve smiled too. This was goodbye, for a while at least. He couldn't say he was happy to see her go. He'd gotten used to having her at his side the past two years. Natasha seemed to share his wistful look, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek before turning to leave the way she had come.

He watched her as she walked away, not wanting to look at the file folder. As much as he needed to see what was inside...he didn't want to.

"Be careful, Steve," Natasha's voice cut into his darkening thoughts. He looked up at her, now several yards away. She pointed to the folder. "You might not want to pull on that thread."

He nodded slightly to her. He definitely didn't want to. Steve watched her go, waiting for her to be at her car before opening the file. On the inside cover he was confronted with a photo of Bucky, seen through the metal frame of a cryogenic chamber. The sight of it, juxtaposed against a small snapshot of Bucky as a soldier during the war...Steve's fingers tightened on the folder.

"You're going after him," Sam said. Steve hadn't noticed him approach.

Steve knew better than to play coy. Sam had been reading him with amazing accuracy since they'd met. "You don't have to come with me."

"I know," Sam said quietly. "When do we start?"

Steve had known what that answer would be, as well. He took a breath and tore his eyes away from Bucky's frozen face. "We just did."

Sam grunted softly. "And, uh...where do we start?"

Turning to look his newest friend in the eye, Steve couldn't help but smile a little. He gestured for Sam to follow toward the car. "We need to make a stop in New York, first. Tony's almost finished with your new wings."

To say Sam's face lit up like Christmas morning would have been an understatement. Steve shared his joy for a moment, before Bucky rose in his thoughts again.

"Do you trust me, Sam?"

"With my life," Sam replied immediately.

Steve's eyes drifted to the file again. Maybe you shouldn't...doesn't always turn out well. "We need to sit and plan out our next moves. We'll see where the ghosts lead us."

TBC

A/N: Regarding Ellis' election to the Presidency: I noticed at the end of the Avengers, we saw Jay Carney, President Obama's recent press secretary on the TV. Next thing we know, in 2013, Matthew Ellis was president. I decided to put my own spin on the discrepancy, instead of ignoring it.