Disclaimer: Don't own
Sorry for the wait
Chapter 11
Bucky sat on the cot, hands gripping the metal edges as the medics moved around him. If it wasn't for the fact they were in a tent it would be too much like being in that lab with the creepy little man. The other cots held his fellow captives who needed treatment, some of them were ill, others injured. All had been worked too hard since their capture. He heard movement at the entrance but ignored it until footsteps stopped next to his cot, finally looking up to find Steve standing there. Steve smiled at him and then sat beside him on the cot and Bucky shifted closer to the heat he radiated.
"Feeling any better?" Steve asked softly and Bucky shrugged.
"I talked to Colonel Phillips; they're shipping us all back to London. Some of the men need more than they can do for them here and you all need time off the front."
"Sounds good," Bucky agreed. Part of him wanted to say no, that he was fine to get back out there immediately but he'd never get medical clearance and he knew it.
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Steve was just relieved that Bucky was mentally present. His need to affirm Steve was real had been concerning…then again Bucky would never have expected to see him in Europe and physically he had changed a lot. He was worried about what they may have been doing to Bucky in the isolation ward, but the medics didn't seem overly concerned so he had to be okay. "Get some sleep, we leave in the morning," he stood and nudged Bucky down onto the cot, not letting his worry show that Bucky didn't argue.
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Being back in London, aware from the front, helped all of the former prisoners immensely. Steve was thrown into meeting after meeting to go over what he had seen and any intelligence he had managed to gather, which happened to include a map of Hydra bases. Every ex-prisoner is given thorough examinations and time off to recuperate while Steve and the brass talk, they are also debriefed on everything they had been made to work on, anything they may have overheard.
"The fourth one was in Poland, here, not far from the Baltic..." Steve explained as he marked down on the map where he remembered seeing bases on the wall map. He'd always had a good memory and it had gotten ever better since the serum. "And the last was outside of Strasbourg, say thirty, forty miles west of the Maginot line," he paused, glancing up almost shyly. "I only go a quick look," he admitted.
"Nobody's perfect," Peggy smiled at him as an aid picked up the map and carried it across the room. Steve and Peggy turned as Howard Stark approached, a blue Hydra cartridge in his hand.
Hey, aren't you supposed to be picking up a medal right about now?" Howard smirked. He was coming to like Steve; he'd heard Abraham speak of him a few times, but he had been buried in the work necessary to get the experiments equipment up and running so hadn't paid a lot of attention. His opinion of the boy had gone up when he had refused to give his friend up for dead and then jumped out of his plane miles from anywhere.
"I'm off the publicity circuit," Steve answered with a shrug and Howard chuckled.
Phillips walked towards the group from across the room. "Rogers, you just embarrassed a senior senator in front of a dozen reporters and ten members of Parliament," he growled before holding out his hand to reveal a medal. "You should get a medal just for that. You figure out what this is, yet?" he asked Howard.
"If you believe Rogers, it's apparently the most powerful explosive known to man."
"If?" Steve arched an eyebrow.
"Well, either you're wrong or Schmidt's damn near rewritten the laws of physics," he grumbled before moving towards his lab. "And I'm rather fond of the laws of physics..."
Phillips moved toward the room-sized map table. "These are all of Hydra's factories," he glanced up at Steve for confirmation.
"The ones we know about. But Sgt Barnes said Hydra shipped all the bombs to another facility. And that...wasn't on the map," Steve admitted, barely remembering to call Bucky by his rank. He was still trying to get used to rank and who saluted who, he hadn't had to know a lot of it on the entertainment route.
"Agent Carter, coordinate with MI6. I want every Allied eyeball looking for that main Hydra base," Phillips told her, and she nodded.
"What about us?" She asked and he smirked.
"We're going to light a fire under Johann Schmidt's ass," he glanced at Steve. "What do you say, Rogers? It's your map. Think you can wipe Hydra off it?"
Steve stared in shock, finally he was being given the responsibility he'd wanted, the chance to do his bit. "I'm going to need a team."
"We've already started lining up the best men-"
"If you don't mind, sir...so Have I," Steve grinned, and Phillips blinked before nodding and leaving.
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Howard watched Steve walk away, dejected, and he felt bad. Poor kid. He hadn't meant to make him insecure….well, maybe a little, with his offer of fondue. He should have realised that a poor kid from Brooklyn wouldn't have a clue what that meant. Young Steve really had no clue when it came to women, then again, why would he? He'd snuck a look at his file, seen the mess his body had been before the serum, hell, he'd seen him go into the machine and he looked like a breeze could blow him away. He'd have to find a way to make it up to him.
He definitely hadn't expected Peggy to shoot at the boy, shield or no shield. Figured he'd be taken with the prototype. It would need some work before he sent it out into the field…a nice paint job…to match the uniform, yeah, he could do that.
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Loki picked up a newspaper with a smile for the vendor and more than the paper actually cost before walking down the street, glancing at the headlines. 'Captain America saves two hundred men from German torture,' it read and below was a grainy photo of a man in an odd uniform leaving a group of bedraggled men. Well…wasn't that interesting. He glanced through the paper before disposing of it as he walked the streets, the sun beginning to set. He liked coming to London in the evening because it was when he could really help. When an air raid siren sounded he would go to the shelters, giving food and blankets, and ensuring the shelter made it through the night. Sometimes he ran into the young Princess, sometimes he worked alone. She was aware he was more than a normal man, but she had never pushed for answers or stared at him in fear or suspicion, she simply accepted his help in protecting her people. She would make a wonderful Queen one day.
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Bucky crouched beside the fire with the rest of the 'Howling Commandos' as they had been dubbed. In the snow, he could pretend the shovers were from the cold and not the battle. He'd been up high, snipers position, watching Steve's back as he led the others towards the base. He kind of hated how easy it felt to pull the trigger, kill from a distance. He did it to keep his team, his friends, safe. None of them knew he'd thrown up after the first time. It was silly, he'd been in the war for a while so why was he having trouble now? Had his captivity thrown him that much? But it wasn't just that…he'd noticed things since being rescued. Like he was hungry more, his reflexes sharper, more aware of his surroundings…he didn't know what was happening, but he kept his mouth shut. If he said anything they might take him off duty and then who would watch Steve's back?
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Loki stood, cloaked, at the back of the full room, eyes scanning every person within. Surprised, but happily so, to see several women working alongside the men, one of them right with the leaders. It was nice to that women were beginning to be treated as equals on Midgard. While there were still roles on Asgard, there was more allowance for a woman to step out of that role, such as with the Lady Sif. A new group entered, and Loki straightened, so this was the famous Captain America….he was younger than Loki had expected, something…gentle about him. There was also something…different about him when compared to the other mortals in the room…though the dark haired man at his side carried some of the same feeling. This was very interesting. He had become aware that some humans were different to others, perhaps these two were more like that? But that idea did not seem to be quite correct. He left the room, he needed to return home and speak with Mother.
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Steve tried to work his way further out of the train, seeing Bucky clinging desperately to a half torn away hand rail...it wouldn't hold much longer. He made sure he had a good hold himself before leaning as far as he good. "Bucky! Grab my hand!" He yelled over the wind; the cold didn't help. Bucky reached for him, their fingertips brushing, and Steve tried to get just that little bit closer. "Come on!" for a second, their fingers connected, and he felt a flash of triumph and then with a horrific screech the rail broke free. "NO!" he screamed, lunging, but he couldn't reach him. In a second Bucky was gone, out of sight and Steve just hung from the ruined side of the train, half tempted to let go and follow him but then he snarled and pulled himself back inside, grabbing his shield as he ran through the compartments only to find Zola already in custody. It was so tempting to shoot the man, especially as he realised this was the man he had seen so many months ago leaving the lab where Bucky had been restrained but he forced himself to remain still, he would complete the mission.
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"Rogers?" the Colonel looked up as Steve entered his office.
"I want to go back."
"Back where son?" he frowned in confusion.
"To…to recover Bucky's body," he forced out.
Phillips sighed; he should have been expecting this. The kid had already gone AWOL over Barnes once. "Steve…"
"I know…I know it would be a retrieval, not like last time. No one could survive a fall like that, especially when the speed of the train is added in. But he has a Mother and Sister back home, they deserve more than a medal and flag."
"I've seen the map with the location you said he fell from, the terrain…the odds of finding anything after a week, between enemy soldiers and wild animals…I can't risk the men to search," he hated telling him that. He knew the two were close, he'd overheard the talk, Barnes was the only reason Steve had reached adulthood. He'd saved him from bullies and illness alike. It had to be killing Steve that he hadn't been able to return the favour again. "Look…we're gearing up to hit the main base. We bring it down, we get Schmidt, and you can take the team after him. I'll sign off on it myself."
Steve nodded. "Thank you Sir." And then he left, and Phillips sat back, looking down at the letter to Barnes' family that he had finally gotten around to starting, putting it aside for now. He would wait for Steve's team to return before sending it, hoping they could ship his body home at the same time. The only good thing about where he was, the cold would preserve his body for transport.
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Steve stared around the plane in a daze, it was done, Red Skull was gone, the cube thing was gone…he shook his head and got up, heading for the pilots seat. He wasn't a pilot, but he couldn't let this thing reach America. He sat down and tried the controls, only to find most of them unresponsive. He took a deep breath and grabbed the radio. "Agent Carter, come in..."
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Peggy ran in and shoved Morita out of the radio seat, grabbing the mic. "Steve, is that you? Are you okay?" she demanded, relieved to hear his voice, he'd won, he had to have to be on the radio.
"I'm fine," the signal wasn't great, but his words were clear enough.
She ignored the noise of the men rounding up the surviving Hydra soldiers and Phillips coming to the door. "Where's Schmidt?"
"Schmidt's dead."
"What about the plane?"
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"That's a little bit harder to explain," Steve admitted, staring at the map where New York was circled. He took out his compass and opened it, laying it on the control panel so he could see her photo. His heart was breaking. He'd lost his best friend, his brother, and now he was going to lose her too.
"Give me your coordinates. I'll find a landing site-"
"There isn't going to be a landing," he cut her off, unwilling to give them both false hope. "Schmidt's locked the navigation system. And there's more than enough power to reach the East Coast."
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Peggy paled; she didn't want to understand what he was saying. It couldn't end like this. She waved Colonel Phillips down. "I'll get Howard on the line. He'll know what to do."
"I'm sitting on a hundred tons of explosives. Hotwiring this thing's not an option," he denied. "I've got to put her in the water."
Peggy spread her fingers on the control panel in front of her, her knuckles white. "But you said you couldn't steer it."
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Steve scanned the control panel. He spotted a thick cable running from the ignition to the engines. "I can't. But I think I can crash it." He took a deep breath and then yanked the cable out. Blue sparks flared and then all the lights died, the engines sputtered before stopping as the plane went silent.
"Steve, don't do this. We've got time. We can figure this out."
He looked at the navigation chart, he hated hearing the pleading in her voice. "I already did. Right now, I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer, a lot of people are going to get hurt. Peggy, this is my choice," he whispered, he would not let more people die. And maybe this was the easy way out, to not have to live with the hole in his life that Bucky's death had created. Philips would still send a team for his body; they'd just have to make another stop…if the plane didn't sink too fast.
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Peggy and Phillips looked at each other, slowly accepting what was happening. He squeezed her shoulder in silent support before going to make sure she wouldn't be interrupted even as she struggled not to cry, a few silent tears slipping free.
"We'll send out rescue ships. We'll find you," she swore. She would make sure they brought him home.
"I don't think there's going to be much left to find," he admitted, and she hated hearing the acceptance in his voice, the tiredness.
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Steve wished he could believe he would survive for a rescue ship to find him but surely not even the serum would keep him alive in these condition. He stared out at the view even as he leant on the stick with his full weight. It took a few seconds but then the nose began to dip, and the plane picked up speed. "Peggy?" was it wrong to not want to die alone? To make her listen?
"I'm here," she whispered.
"I'm going to need a raincheck on that dance," he tried not to choke on the words, not looking at the quickly approaching ice.
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Peggy wiped at her eyes. "All right. A week Saturday. The Stork Club," she told him firmly, playing along for his sake.
"Okay. You got it."
"8:00 on the dot. If you're three minutes late I'm leaving, do you understand?"
"I still don't know how to dance," he admitted, and she choked on a laugh, closing her eyes.
"I'll show you. I'll show you everything. Just be there," she pleaded, hand over her mouth to smother sobs.
"Maybe the band could play something slow, I'd hate to step on your-" the radio hissed before falling silent.
"Steve?" she called shakily. "Steve?"
Gentle hands pulled the radio from her hands as she stared out of the hanger at the sky beyond. Phillips pulled her up and led her out of the room. Erskine had been right to pick Rogers, he wished he could tell both men that, but he would never have the chance. He would keep his word; the Commandos would go for Bucky and he knew Howard would take ships after Steve. They would find them and bring them home.
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Loki froze as he felt an explosion of power. That…that was unlike anything he had ever felt before, how many others could have sensed it? It was coming from Midgard! But as quickly as it had come it was gone and he moved quickly to his Mother's chambers, seeing the worry in her eyes as she met him at the door. Something had been found and activated that should have remained hidden. What would that mean for Midgard?
TBC…
