All Brock heard was a scream, not blood-curdling, but urgent.
"James?" He emerged with a gun to see a strange sight... James being chased across the frozen tundra by a flock of penguins.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
James started to shoot at the birds as he ran, each bullet finding their mark with a spray of blood.
Rumlow cursed, the scent of freshly spilled blood would attract polar bears. "Stand down, soldier!" He barked, causing the assassin to skid to a stop, slipping slightly on the ice. "Get your ass in here, I'll take watch now."
When James wasn't given a specific objective, or he was unfamiliar with his surroundings he turned into a skittish animal.
"They must've liked your arm." Brock
"Hm?" James looked at Rumlow. "What do you mean?"
"Your arm, it's shiny, penguins are attracted to shiny things."