Silently, Invisibly
Chapter Fourteen
Steve heard the door open and close.
"Would you gentlemen care to get out of the room for a while?" asked Natasha. "Dr. Welborn wants to discuss surgery and rehab scheduling. We could wheel you down to the cafeteria, get an outside table."
"Sure," said Steve. The Soldier didn't say anything, but presumably he nodded or shrugged, because Steve heard the sound of the restraints being unbuckled.
"I'll need your parole," said Natasha. "No escape attempt today."
"No escape attempt before dark," the Soldier said with a hint of a smile in his voice.
"That'll do," said Natasha. "I wouldn't want to cramp your style. But the leg brace stays out of reach."
"All right. You don't have to push me, by the way. I can manage the chair with one arm and one leg."
"Good," she said. "Here, Steve, chair's beside your bed."
"Thanks," he said, found it by touch and levered himself into it, then unlocked the brakes.
"Left down the corridor, first left, second right," said Natasha to the Soldier, then came back to push Steve's chair.
"Hawkeye waiting for us?" he asked her.
"He'll meet us in a while."
Steve heard the door open, saw the wash of lighter gray as he emerged into the sunlight, and felt the movement of air on his face. He savored the feeling. Natasha turned the chair to the left, stopped, locked the brakes. "There's a table in front of you, Steve," she said. "Want coffee?"
"Sure," he said.
"Nobody within about fifty feet of you except the Soldier," she said more softly. "I'll be within sight but not earshot. Back in five."
Steve sat silent for a moment, listening. There were voices, but none close by. He could hear a light breeze ruffling leaves somewhere ahead of him. Finally he spoke quietly.
"You remembered. Didn't you."
There was a silence that stretched for several breaths, and at first Steve thought he wasn't going to get an answer. But finally:
"Yes. A little."
"So you believe us now."
"I…yes. I believe that I was born James Buchanan Barnes." More silence. "But I have been reborn several times since then."
"I know. I do know what that's like."
A small snort. "The part you understand is the least of it. You're still the same man you were. I may know that better than anyone alive."
"And I'm the only one alive who can say the same of you."
"Really? Bucky Barnes was a ruthless killer?"
"When he had to be. That's part of why I chose you. All of you. Because you could do what was necessary. And then stop."
Another small silence.
"I…always assumed you picked me because we were friends."
"Hell no. I was glad I could give you the chance to hit back at HYDRA, but if you hadn't come up to scratch, I'd never have made you one of the Commandos."
"Well, shit, Steve."
"The life of a C.O. is a hard one, Sergeant."
"Screw you, Rogers."
Steve laughed. "And you," he continued, "sixty-plus years as an assassin, and you render aid to your target at risk of your own life? Is that what they taught you in assassin school?"
A small chuckle. "No. That would not be standard operating procedure. And be fair: subjectively, it's only been about ten years. I spent a lot of it asleep."
"Brother, I know what that's like. I slept through the Cold War." The silence was less strained now, more meditative. "You saved Natasha's sanity, I think."
"I…did what I could. I couldn't do what was necessary." The Soldier's voice was calm, level, but with a harsh undertone.
There were footsteps approaching. Boots. A light brisk tread, but not fast enough to be threatening. When the footsteps stopped, Hawkeye's voice said "Cap," but no more.
"How was your break?" asked Steve.
"Productive," said Hawkeye. "Here comes Nat with coffee. Don't get your hopes up; it's pretty bad."
Natasha's footsteps were just audible, no doubt out of courtesy. Steve knew from experience that either of them could have approached without a sound, if they'd chosen to.
"Here you go," said Natasha, brushing the coffee cup against the edge of his hand as she set it down. He picked it up and sipped. Not up to Tony Stark's standards, or even the Helicarrier's, but better than the Army's.
"Dr. Welborn?" asked Steve.
"Change of plans. She got tied up," said Hawkeye, a little too casually, and Steve's heart leaped. He heard the Soldier take a deep breath and hold it for a second.
There was the sound of a motor nearby, a diesel, bigger than a car, smaller than a tractor-trailer. It pulled to a stop and idled, and Steve heard the rattle and clang of a rear gate being rolled open.
"Might want to set the coffee down. And hang on," said Hawkeye, and Steve's chair was abruptly jerked backward, turned around, and rolled rapidly forward and up a ramp. He heard the noise of the other wheelchair behind him; the ramp was roughly shoved back into place, the gate rolled down and slammed shut, and the engine snarled into gear.
"Beautiful," said Steve. "I assume we won't be seeing the doctor today after all?"
"Actually I'm seeing her right now on the floor of the truck," said the Soldier helpfully. "Apparently 'tied up' wasn't a metaphor."
"Yeah, we'll get to that," said Hawkeye. "Cap, we have your shield and your sidearm."
"Keep the gun," said Steve, "but I'd feel better with the shield. I can't throw it blind, but I can still block things with it if I can hear them coming."
"Can do," said Hawkeye. "Also got some more functional clothing for you. And we got a brace that should let you bear some weight on that leg without messing up your foot any worse."
"Fine," said Cap. "I assume you made contact with someone?"
"I did," said Hawkeye.
"So much for 'no escape attempt before dark'," said the Soldier.
"I didn't make any promises," said Natasha.
"So why are we bringing the doctor?" asked Steve. "Couldn't get one of our own?"
"Well, 'our own' is a problematic concept right now," said Hawkeye, "but mainly, we…I…have unfinished business with the doc. She should be awake soon, by the way, if she's not already."
Natasha said, "Steve, there's a seat just to your right; if you want to get out of the wheelchair I can fold it up and get it out of the way."
"Thanks," he said, and transferred over. There was a seat belt; he buckled it. Their ride had been smooth after the initial burst of acceleration, but he figured that was subject to change. Presumably the Soldier was doing the same; he heard the click of the buckle and the rattle of the second wheelchair being folded as well.
"I'd rather not cuff you to the truck in case we wreck it," Natasha said. "Will you keep to your parole?"
"You know, you could let me go," said the Soldier.
"And let you finish your mission? No, thank you."
"Maybe I'd just call for extraction," said the Soldier.
"Depending on who took the call, you might be better off with us," Natasha said. "No. Not now."
"Might be your last chance," said the Soldier. "I won't turn, Natachenka, and you'll end up having to kill me."
"Clint, if you make a Star Wars joke I will end you," she said. And to the Soldier, "Those aren't the only options. Prisoner exchange, maybe, once things stabilize. Parole?"
The Soldier sighed. "Until nightfall," he said.
"Clint," said Natasha, and the two of them moved forward past Steve and the Soldier, presumably to confer silently.
After a while Steve could hear the sound of the doctor's breathing over the noise of the truck; not quite snoring, but a little harsh, with a slight gurgle.
"So presumably," said the Soldier, "You've got help from someone outside SHIELD. I'm guessing Stark?"
"That's one of the possibilities," said Steve. "There are others."
"I doubt the alien god has panel trucks," said the Soldier.
"If he wanted them, I've no doubt he'd manage," said Steve.
"What's he like?"
"Which one?"
"Stark Junior."
Steve smiled. "To some extent, like Stark Senior. Full of himself. Cocky as hell. Women all over him. And a surprising amount of the time, he's as good as he thinks he is. But you know that. Starts out being tortured in a cave and ends up as infantry, artillery and air support rolled into one."
"I won't underestimate him, when the time comes."
Steve nodded grimly. "You think you won't."
"What are you planning to do with me?"
"I was kind of hoping to get to the point where you could make your own plans. But obviously, if your list still starts with 'kill Rogers and Romanov,' that's not likely."
"You have a better idea?"
"How about 'find out who's trying to kill both Rogers and Barnes' and go from there?"
"I can give you a starting point for that," said Hawkeye from the front of the compartment.
"What have you got?" asked Steve.
"Fury turned on his bosses," said the archer.
"Didn't think he had enough info on them to do any good," said Steve.
"You'd be surprised," said Natasha.
"He was willing to put up with a foiled attempt to nuke Manhattan," said Hawkeye, "but when they started messing with SHIELD, that was personal."
"Nuke Manhattan?" the Soldier said blankly.
"Bozhe moi. You slept through the alien invasion?" said Natasha.
"Natachenka, I said before, don't play with me."
"Archangel Mikhail. I'm not playing. You know about Thor; you don't know what his brother did?"
"I'm afraid to ask, now."
"You've heard of the Tesseract," said Steve.
"HYDRA's power source, yes."
"Presumably you knew Howard Stark found it before he died."
"Yes. We kept expecting a new crop of weapons to show up, but…nothing."
"More on that later," Steve said. "You knew about Thor, yes?"
"I was briefed on him. Superpowered alien, temporarily not superpowered, fought some kind of flamethrowing robot in the middle of nowhere in the Southwestern U.S., then vanished."
"Yes. Well, Thor has a brother named Loki. Loki got thrown into limbo or something. He struck a deal with some aliens named the Chitauri, came to Earth, got the Tesseract, and opened a portal for the Chitauri to invade. Earth was supposed to be their payment for helping him."
"And the part about nuking Manhattan?"
"That," said Natasha, "was the World Security Council trying to stop the invasion. Fury took exception to the idea. Iron Man took care of the nuke. You do know about the Avengers, yes?"
"I was briefed. Strike team that's basically designed to take on an army."
Clint laughed. "Well, we did end up taking on an army, but designed is a strong word. What the hell did your handlers tell you? The Avengers were a scrapped project that got hauled out of the round file in a last-ditch attempt to recover the Tesseract and stop the invasion."
The Soldier took a while to respond. "That…was not the story I got."
"Well, our story is verifiable, but I don't think I want to give you the kind of access that would allow you to verify it," said Natasha.
Silence fell again.
"Galina," the Soldier said at last. "Let me talk to her."
"Not face-to-face," said Natasha.
"Video link will do," he said.
"You asked her where to find me," Natasha said. "She would never have told you if she'd believed I was your target."
"She didn't," the Soldier said. "I had a lead on Rogers. You were a bonus. And the archer was a surprise."
"As I so often am," said Hawkeye drily.
There was a quiet moan from the floor.
"Hey, Doc," said Hawkeye. "Welcome back."