**Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction, so I just wanted to say thanks a bunch for reading!
They could not call themselves SHIELD any longer, but neither Clinton, Natasha or Steve could think of anything else to call themselves that did not sound silly or foolish. They continued to call themselves SHIELD amongst themselves, and the small yellow brick building on the outskirts of Chicago became known as SHIELD headquarters.
Steve pushed through the HQ door with less than his usual passion.
"Who was it, Steve?"
Steve turned in slight surprise. Natasha was leaning against the wall just inside the door. Her arms were crossed and her red hair flared brilliantly over her dark-clad shoulders.
"No one. Wrong number." There was no way Steve could repeat the conversation. He could not risk telling her.
Natasha nodded and dismissed the phone call from her mind and jumped right to the important stuff. "Vera Dominika is being debriefed by Lancaster and Hawkeye. We should have the updates in an hour or so. Unless you want to question her yourself?"
Steve shook his head and followed Natasha as she walked through the HQ halls. The corridors were narrow, floored with harsh white tile and sterile walls. Doors were placedin even intervals, hiding labs, offices, data rooms and more. "No, I'll wait for the report. I have-" Steve paused, "I have something I need to take care of."
Natasha threw him a glance, but either from his tone of voice or the stern set of his face, Natasha decided to press Steve no further. "Okay," she said, "I'll call you when the file's in."
Steve slowed to a stop as Natasha turned a corner and walked out of sight. He could not concentrate on anything just now. He had to think. All he needed was to think things through, to get things straight. The phone call repeated in his head in vivid detail, repeating like an audio recording.
"Bucky? You have Bucky Barnes?" Steve was speechless, his breath coming quicker and his heart beating in shock. "How-"
"Yes, Mr. Rogers. I found him, shall we say, trespassing on personal property. I have a right to hold him under citizen's arrest." The voice over the phone sounded amused, as if Perseus was on the verge of a chuckle.
"How can I trust you?" Steve said, hoping beyond hope. One part of Steve wished desperately that this man did have Bucky, but the other half protested. Who knew who this man was or what he could be doing to his friend?
"Oh, I have proof."
There was a moment of silence and a rush of static, as if the phone were being jostled or perhaps passed from hand to hand. Then there came a voice. A voice Steve knew. A voice Steve missed desperately.
"Hello?"
It was weak and quiet. Husky from exhaustion or pain or some other unpleasant emotion.
"Bucky?" said Steve in a voice barely above a whisper.
The phone issued forth more static and the man's voice came over the speakers once more, "There, you see? James Barnes is alive and well."
"He doesn't sound well, what are you doing to him?" Steve cried.
"I am not doing anything to him, Mr. Rogers," said Perseus as calm as ever, "I believe he is suffering from some form of psychosis, but it's hard to say."
A wave of panic surged through Steve. Psychosis? He fought it down with a calming breath and said, "What do you want?"
"Oh, it's simple really. I propose a trade. Equivalent exchange, if you will."
"Just tell me what the hell you want!"
"Calm down, Mr. Rogers. I'll release James Barnes on the agreement that your life is forfeit."
"My life? You mean trade my life for his?"
"That is exactly right, Mr. Rogers, you are a clever individual indeed."
Thoughts raced through Steve's mind. His life for Bucky's. He would die, but his friend, his blood-brother, his comrade in arms would be free. "And if I don't agree?"
"I will kill him."
Steve was silent for a long time, thinking carefully. "Why do you want me dead?"
"That is no concern of yours, Mr. Rogers."
Finally Steve said, "You have to guarantee his safety. If he is harmed in any way, the deal is off."
"Of course, Mr. Rogers. James Barnes is safe in my hands. So it's agreed, then?"
The man already knew Steve's answer. Steve knew the answer he had to give. What else could he do? He had failed to save his friend from death once before. He would not fail again.
"Agreed."
Steve sat in his large office with his head in his hands. His shield lay discarded on the floor, and the whir of computers and electronics filled his ears with a soothing cadence. But Steve Rogers could not be consoled. He had just agreed to die for his friend, for Bucky. He did not regret that decision, he would make it again in a heartbeat, but something was off. Who was this Perseus? More importantly, why did he want Steve dead? The man on the phone had given him an address and a time to meet. Steve had immediately looked up the location on his office computer, but it was just a roadside rest area in Nebraska with nothing around for miles. It gave no clue to 'Perseus's' true identity or location.
He slammed a fist down on the desk in a fit of frustration, denting the expensive wood. He had three days. Three days to get to Nebraska and figure out a plan that would keep him alive. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. To be honest, there was no way he could make any kind of plan. Steve did not know what was going to happen on the side of the Nebraskan road. But how could he excuse himself for the three days he needed without being missed? Plus there was the whole deal with Vera Dominika and the train bomb.
All of these thoughts plagued his mind, but above all else shone one bright thought. He was going to see Bucky. He was alive, and Steve was going to find him. Even if he did not live long to enjoy it.
Steve was still sitting in his office when his phone rang. The shrill noise tore him from this thoughts and he reluctantly pulled the phone from his pocket.
"Hello?" He answered carefully. There was a moment when he thought Perseus would answer. Steve breathed a sigh of relief when Natasha's voice came over the speaker.
"We've got the report. It's crazy info, Steve. Come down, would you?"
"On my way," he replied.
Fifty-six seconds later he was knocking on Natasha's door. At her call, he pushed through the door. Natasha's office was similar to Steve's, but Natasha's desk was littered in neat stacks of paper. She sat behind the papers in a chair, and gestured Steve to come forward. He sat in a chair usually reserved for clients and folded his his hands in his lap.
"Steve, I don't know what we've got here, but something doesn't smell right." Natasha reached over the desk to hand Steve the folder. He skimmed it quickly.
"So it is Hydra?" He said, forcing himself to think of the topic on hand.
"So Dominika says. She also says that they are gathering in an abandoned missile silo in southern Nebraska."
Steve shook his head, "Natasha, Hydra was destroyed. Everything they had, every member they had was killed or destroyed. There was nothing, absolutely nothing left."
"It's possible that someone or some documentation lived to pass on Hydra's name and goal. But if it's real or not is beside the point. For now, we just need someone to head out there and check it out."
"I'll go," Steve said. The address Perseus had given him was in Nebraska, it all worked out perfectly. This solved his problem. This would give him the excuse he needed to go get Bucky.
"Thanks, Cap. You want Clinton with you?"
Steve shook his head, "No, this is a one man job." He was not exactly lying. If he intended to sneak into the silo Hawkeye would just complicate things, but the truth of the matter was that Hawkeye would spoil Steve's plans.
Natasha shrugged, "Alright. Head out whenever your ready. Vera Dominika will stay here under an armed guard. I don't trust her."
Steve stood and turned to head for the door.
"Are you alright, Steve?" Asked Natasha quietly.
Steve halted with his hand on the doorknob. He looked back at Natasha, "Fine. Why do you ask?"
"You seem...Worried. Is everything okay?"
"Fine, fine," he lied before closing the door behind him.
Steve planned on heading out right away. It was vital that he take care of the silo before he met with Bucky since he could not be sure he would walk away from Perseus with his life. Once he cleared the silo, he would meet Perseus and make the exchange. He hoped for more than one reason that Hydra was not on the rise once again.
Steve did not take much with him. He wore his civilian clothes and stuffed his uniform and some money into a backpack. The backpack and his patriotic shield were stuck in the passenger seat of a black sedan and he sped away from the yellow brick headquarters with unlawful speed. The drive to Nebraska would take at least twelve hours. Needless to say, he had some time to think.