Okay, I'm back, and your continued support has definitely encouraged me to continue writing this story! :D
I went and saw Captain America: Winter Soldier, so keep your eyes peeled for little Winter Soldier easter eggs/allusions throughout this chapter, and tell me whatever you think it means in your review. A little different, but I think it could be fun. Who knows? Those tidbits might be a little important later on...
Out of the bowl, into the oven, they'd say. The oven being a factory they blew up every week. They being the little squad Steve put together: Dum Dum Dugan, Gabe Jones, Jim Morita, and Falsworth, and then there was Bucky and Carrie, the inseparable, dynamic duo, and their leader Steve, who's other half was back at base.
Not that he knew his other half was indeed, his other half. The rest of the Howling Commandos talked about it anyway. Carrie and Bucky couldn't help but support the notion.
With Steve in command of the Howling Commandos, the little group had been extremely effective, completely obliterating any factory, any force that stood in their way. The little network of factories and bases on the map slowly disappeared.
The guys were good; most were decent marksmen, knew multiple languages, codebreaking, or was just an all-around good soldier. Most of all, they were friends.
Carrie couldn't help but share a small smile with Buck. It was easy to say she and Steve were more than friends; they were brother and sister. They might as well be related by blood.
And then there was Bucky.
She chuckled quietly, to no other listening ears other than her own. She glanced at their tent. It wasn't much bigger than those assigned to other infantrymen, but Carrie slept in a smaller, separate tent along with Agent Carter. Both understood the precaution, especially with pigs like Hodge and Walsh lurking around.
Still, they spent the majority of their time either in the command tent or the Howling Commandos' tent.
As much as the troops took out factories or bases, a Howling Commando would always manage to track down another HYDRA structure of some sort.
Weeks passed, with enemy structures popping up less and less. That could only mean that either the Howling Commandos were doing their job, or HYDRA was getting better at hiding.
Underground was an option, Carrie supposed. They had the technology to vaporize a person with only one shot. She figured burrowing into the ground and somehow setting up a structure beneath everyone's feet wouldn't be too difficult. They could be right under the camp, and none of the Allied forces would be the wiser.
She shivered; it wasn't the most pleasant thought she ever had. It was war, and being too optimistic caused mistakes. Death.
But it also gave the troops hope, boosted morale.
It was a psychological knife edge, the line getting thinker each passing day.
With the line becoming a barrier, it was insanely difficult to focus on any clues, any intel that could be used to track down HYDRA forces.
After all, Red Skull was not one to quit.
It wasn't until Jim Morita, resident linguist of the Howling Commandos cracked the Germans' code (thanks to Gabe Jones's frequency cracking) that progress was finally on the horizon.
Schmidt was smart, and he had ambition. He needed Zola. He needed genius.
And apparently, he had stuffed that genius on a train. Not too surprising; if grounded factories didn't work, maybe sticking him on a mobile transport would.
According to Morita's codes, the train's path should cross an obscure railroad in an equally hidden mountain range. The coordinates were already scribble down and memorized. The problem?
It was already the middle of water, and the mountain blizzards were always worse up in the well, mountains.
They could drive Jeeps to the base of the mountain. They had no idea how guarded the mountain was, they couldn't take a couple tanks or the whole of their forces. Tanks were too costly, and would attract too much attention. Same with the troops; supplies would be stretched thin, and they couldn't risk any more casualties in this damn war for just an extraction mission.
It was decided; Steve would take his group of Howling Commandos, pray they weren't too late, jump on top of the train, kick whatever ass is in the way, out of the way, grab Zola, and get out.
Not Carrie's words, she swears. All could give her is a small smile that was one part rakish, another part amused. The colonel just shook his head, grumbling, "Something like that," as he stepped out of the tent.
"I take it that that's the affirmative?" Falsworth's tone was serious; the twitching of his mustache said otherwise.
In a couple of days and twenty minutes in which supplies were packed and goodbyes were exchanged, Peggy had decided to stay in the command tent with tactical.
Perhaps luck was on their side; only a (relatively) slight breeze rustled the loose flakes around, which is to say, very, very few. The biting chill still nipped at their exposed skin, but everyone took what they could get.
Gabe and Morita had set up a matching, cutting through frequencies, and deciphering codes. While most were pacing on the ledge to fight some of the numbing cold, Morita and Gabe hadn't really moved a bit. When they finally nodded to each other and turning to the rest of the team, Carrie couldn't help but notice that the tips of their ears were pink, but they moved like they would back at camp; they had adrenaline thundering in their veins.
Dugan and Falsworth fired two sturdy cables to the opposite side of the mountain wall. Just as the team attached harnesses, the train was zipping beneath their feet.
"Hey Steve?" Bucky asked.
"Yeah?"
"Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone on Coney Island?"
"Yeah, and I threw up?"
Bucky grimaced. "This isn't payback, is it?"
Steve grinned. "Now why would I do that?"
Carrie shook her head. "Told you so."
Readying herself, she jumped after Bucky, Steve leading. The landing was the difficult part, never mind the bone-chilling wind scraping past her cheeks, landing on a moving train was tough, and so was the zipline. Being thrown off a train?
Not something she wanted to repeat in particular.
Working their way toward the end of the car, they worked their way down a ladder, Steve smashing open the bars locking the door. It swung open with a melodic clang. Shuffling inside, Steve led the charge, covering Bucky and Carrie. It was an extraction mission, but they picked off any HYDRA soldiers they found. Objective?
Zola.
Other dull clangs sounded; the Howling Commanders began their assault.
The trio began working their way to the front car, Steve leading, and Bucky brought up the rear.
Steve surged up ahead, and the door slid shut, separating the healer and the partner from the soldier. On the other side, a heavily armored HYDRA soldier emerged from the mist.
Swearing, Bucky and Carrie dove behind some stacked cases of ammunition. They glanced at each other, taking inventory. Both had one pistol each; Carrie had split her magazines with the rest of the Howling Commandos, and given the last one to Steve.
"Wonderful." Bucky muttered.
They jumped, cringing as they felt bullets streak and ricochet around them like fireworks, only they would blow their heads apart instead of their sense of amazement. Taking turns, the duo whipped past their cover and fired a couple rounds before dancing back.
Minutes—perhaps mere seconds, or even years—trickled by in an almost agonizing rate. Blood rushing, heart pounding—marching to the beat of their own drum, defending it till death.
Click, click, click.
"Oh damn." Carrie swore.
"Well then." Bucky breathed, griping Carrie's hand. And then he kissed her. Kissed her hard. There wasn't any point in not doing it—that damn HYDRA door would open. Tried that already. It was as good a time as any. "I love you."
As he heard a tapping on metal, he opened his eyes. It wasn't another HYDRA soldier, otherwise they'd be dead already. Steve was peeking from the other side of the door, holding out a pistol, ready to toss. The guise of focus doing its job far too well; someone who didn't know Steve as well as he did would catch him masking his discomfort.
Abruptly, Bucky broke away from the kiss, leaving both he and Carrie breathless. Fluidly, he maneuvered Carrie behind him as Steve tossed his pistol. The super-soldier rammed his shoulder into a case of ammo while Bucky pushed the HYDRA soldier into the line of collision with a few shots of his pistol.
Threat neutralized.
The trio made its way to the car with Zola as the man himself ordered the new threat to be stopped over the radio, in English. Carrie supposed the order given in their native tongue was supposed to intimidate her, and the rest of the Howling Commandos. Frankly, they probably could've translated it themselves anyway.
They expected a team of foot soldiers—even a sizable mass like that would've been easier to pick off with the usual strategy. Steve could easily plow through them, and between Bucky and Carrie, the rest would've easily been dealt with.
They hadn't planned a juggernaut of a human covered in Brooklyn's worth of HYDRA weapons and armor. Bucky and Carrie glanced at their weapons as Steve stepped forward, and backed up to the guard the door.
Getting hit with a ricochet would make for terrible timing.
Carrie frowned. Steve was definitely in a bind. He had speed, but the HYDRA soldier had the extra bulk and firepower. As much as Steve's vibranium shield had the capability to absorb vibrations, it didn't account for being batted aside like a rag doll.
As soon as Steve was on the ground, Bucky rushed forward, grabbing Steve's shield and firing with his pistol; stray shots streaked the air, and Carrie quickly checked Steve for injuries, helping him up.
Another explosive shot from the HYDRA soldier, and the wall of the train car fell away in cinders. The draft had knocked Bucky off the train, whisking the HYDRA soldier with him.
"Bucky!" Whether it was Steve or Carrie, they couldn't tell, didn't matter.
He was barely hanging on, the winter wind threatening to rip him off his weak metal lifeline.
Carrie couldn't even feel the bite of the winter as she stretched her hand out precariously, desperately, clinging to the ripped edge. Steve held her waist, keeping her anchored.
"Bucky!" Carrie screamed. Her hand was extended as far as she could reach.
It wasn't enough.
It was never enough.
Even with Steve carefully inching forward, Carrie couldn't ignore that treacherous heartbeat resonating through the ears.
Their fingertips brushed. And it was then they knew.
IT was a blink of an eye, or perhaps longs. All Carrie remembered was that she could've moved faster—that she should've moved faster. Her stomach lurched, almost taking Carrie down with it.
And then there was nothing but the winter and the soldier to comfort her.
So I was emotionally compromised after watching Winter Soldier. Then I calmed down and then AGENTS OF SHIELD happened.
And then I wrote this chapter.
So yeah. Went through a box of tissues.
Also important, this is part of my Marvel series, which includes my other two OCs, Colby and Bryan who appear in a couple of my other stories, Project Gemini and Designation Upgrade. Check those out if you'd like, since they're be very important, especially when their story catches up to the Winter Solder.
And maybe they'll find out about Carrie...
So any guesses? Leave 'em in your review! :D