A/N: All action this time. Warning for violence. But they're Hydra. They deserve it. No spoilers for Civil War. I finished this story before I saw it.
Part 4
Barnes ruthlessly cleared a path to the entrance. He moved with such confidence, that even when the search teams spotted him, it took them a minute to register he was an enemy — and then it was too late. No one had a chance to get off a shot or sound an alarm, until he reached the group guarding the entrance.
The Soldier had been collecting knives as he went. One sped toward the throat of the man closest to the alarm button. Fractions of a second later, the group leader went down with a combat knife between his eyes. The Soldier was already charging the three remaining men before the first two hit the ground. Using his metal fist as a club and slashing with the knife in his flesh hand, Barnes took down two at once, but the third lunged for the alarm, slamming his hand on it just as Barnes caught him by the collar. The Soldier threw the guard across the hall to crash headfirst against the wall, but the damage was done.
An alarm klaxon blared. Barnes cautiously checked the exterior, then gestured at Sam.
Sam didn't need any instructions to jog as quickly as he could toward the exit with Steve's dead weight on his back.
He paused just before stepping outside. "Those are mine," he told the Soldier, nodding at two submachine guns that one of the guards hadn't gotten chance to use. Barnes collected them and ushered the burdened Falcon outside.
Sam was dismayed to see that it had already gotten light, even though it wasn't even 3 a.m. yet. Crazy Alaskan summers!
With the low shrubs, mossy ground and just a few tiny trees, there was no cover for miles, no way to get out of sight until help could arrive — even if he had a way to call for help.
"Now what?" he asked Barnes.
Before answering, Barnes pulled a remote control from inside his combat vest. He entered a code, then pressed a button. Perfectly placed charges went off inside the doors, blasting inward and collapsing the entrance, without stirring the air outside.
Sam nodded in appreciation of the precision. "That will buy us some time, but they must have another way out and some sort of vehicle to chase us down."
Barnes gave Sam a look that said he understood this better than Sam did. Without saying a word, Barnes led Sam toward a rocky outcrop, just a couple of random boulders left by a glacier long ago. Near it, Barnes grasped a berry bush and tugged, peeling back the tundra to reveal a moss-lined pit. It was a sniper's nest, Sam realized, but underground, instead of on a rooftop.
Together, the men gently stretched Steve out in the pit.
"Shouldn't he be awake?" Barnes asked in concern.
The pararescue airman checked his friend. Steve's vitals seemed OK, but he was deeply asleep.
"The drug may still be in his system, but I think he might be just asleep," Sam decided. "He needed it and his body won't take no for an answer any longer. He hasn't slept well lately. He's been worrying about you."
Barnes looked ashamed that he was disrupting the sleep of this man who seemed to be his friend. Whatever that meant. Friendship was a good thing, Barnes was pretty sure.
"It's not your fault," Sam said gently. "He's a worrier."
"I know," Barnes said automatically, then looked surprised at himself. "I do know, but I don't remember why!" he said in frustration.
"Don't try to push it," Sam advised. "Trust your feelings."
Barnes raised his head, hearing something Sam couldn't. "No more time to talk. They're coming."
The Winter Soldier dropped across his face like the mask he no longer wore. Sam watched with approval tinged with sadness, as the uncertain Bucky Barnes reverted into the decisive, deadly Winter Soldier. At least he was on Sam's side this time.
Sam lay down in the pit half on top of Steve, while Barnes pulled the canvas-lined sod over them. "Stay down. Keep him safe," Barnes ordered.
"Yes, sergeant," Sam answered with a military snap, that was, nevertheless, slightly sarcastic.
Despite the moss lining, cold radiated from the permafrost below. Sam was glad he was sharing space with a Super Soldier space heater.
As the black man shifted to find a more comfortable spot, his foot touched a shovel and his hand found a sniper's rifle, both of them emblazoned with the Hydra octopus. It seemed a little arrogant, but Sam supposed after all those decades hiding in the shadows, Hydra liked to show off its colors when it could.
The sniper's nest had a peephole that Sam could see and shoot from. The ground in this area was pretty flat, but this spot was on a slight rise. Trust a sniper to find the highest point available, even if it was just a few feet.
He wondered how Barnes had built this hidey-hole under the noses of Hydra. He guessed Barnes had stowed away on a Hydra transport and dug his nest at night, using stolen Hydra tools.
Sam brought up the rifle, resting it in a moss cradle, and watched the action through the sniper scope.
From his low vantage point, Sam could only see a faint movement on his limited horizon. He couldn't see the door slide open on the far side of the base, letting three vehicles pour out — a passenger SUV and two jeeps.
The vehicles roared into view, spread out in a skirmish line, aiming toward the lone figure waiting. Sam could tell the exact moment they recognized their opponent, because three sets of brakes slammed on simultaneously.
Sam knew just how they felt.
The black-clad Hydra leader was seated in the passenger seat of the SUV. He leaped out nimbly and confronted his men. It was too far for Sam to hear him, but he was obviously haranguing them. He exhorted his men to action, waving a swagger stick like the perfect parody of a Nazi villain. Probably his childhood heroes, Sam thought sourly.
His pep talk or threats had an effect. One jeep lurched forward, and the other vehicles followed, building speed as best they could on the rough ground. The leader jogged behind them, waving them onward with his stick.
The passengers in the vehicles began to fire out the windows at the Winter Soldier, who didn't even twitch. The bullets flew high and wide, because the vehicles were bouncing so much.
And then, watching through the sniper scope, Sam witnessed a reenactment of the battle at the causeway. He caught his breath as the Winter Soldier began to run — toward the leading jeep. The shooters couldn't track him, because the combined speed was too fast.
Barnes jumped onto the hood, leaped over the front seat, kicking one back seat guard in the head and landing boots first on the other, breaking his neck. His metal arm reached back to grab the driver by the collar, then he flung the man through the driver's window of the SUV.
The SUV swerved out of control and the left front tire dropped into a pothole. The men inside were flung forward at the sudden stop. The vehicle sat tilted and undrivable.
The men in the other jeep opened fire on the Soldier, who leaped away. Graceful as a panther, he rolled to his feet while the bullets riddled the guards in the first jeep. Barnes regained his feet and pulled a machine pistol from his back. He raked the second jeep, striking men and tires. The jeep pancaked to the ground. Men tumbled out. Two were dead but two, both injured, dragged themselves to cover behind the jeep.
The Soldier ignored them for a moment, turning his attention to the three men struggling in the tilted SUV. They were pushing at the body of the jeep driver, trying to clear the window so they could climb out. Barnes obligingly hauled the corpse clear, then heaved the next man out as well. He used the screaming guard as shield when the men inside started firing. When they ran out of ammunition, the Soldier threw the body aside and fired into the SUV twice.
While the Soldier was busy with the troops, the leader pointed his stick at Barnes' back. Through the sniper scope, Sam saw a trigger spring from the side of the stick.
Without a moment's hesitation, Sam fired. The leader's head exploded into gore. The dead man's body twirled as he fell and his finger twitched on the trigger. The camouflaged gun fired — but not at Barnes. The round hit the disabled jeep, blowing a hole in the gas tank and igniting the vapor. The jeep blasted into the air, flipped over and crashed down on the two men who had been hiding behind it — but they had already been killed by the explosion anyway.
Barnes scanned for living enemies and found none, then turned his glare in Sam's direction.
"You were supposed to stay hidden," he growled.
"You're welcome!" Sam answered.
Standing amid the wreckage, Barnes took out his remote control, entered a code and pressed the button.
There was a muffled whump and a wide expanse of tundra humped up like a turtle rising, then subsided, leaving a depression. It was very tidy destruction, Sam thought. The explosion never broke the surface. It alarmed but did not injure a family of ptarmigan that scuttled away from the oddly shifting ground.
Sam pushed away his blanket of tundra and rose. "You had the complex mined this whole time?" he asked in outrage.
The look Barnes gave Sam clearly said, "Obviously!"
"Then why all this?" Sam asked, gesturing at the carnage.
Barnes patted the fender of the undamaged SUV. A smile flashed across his face and, just for a moment, Sam saw Steve's old pal Bucky Barnes grinning at him.
"Did you want to walk to Fairbanks?" Barnes asked.
To Be Continued
A/N: Civil War got the inspiration flowing. I've already written three (short) stories based on it. I don't feel right running spoilers too soon — though there are many out already. I won't run anything Civil War related until June — one month after it came out in the U.S. So there's one more chapter to finish off Ambushes next Saturday and then I'll try to come up with a non-Civil War story for May 28. After that, the deluge!
