Sorry this one is short but you get two chapters in one day so shuddit! LOVE YOU
Orders. Kill the terrorists. The man with the shield. The red haired woman. The man in the iron armor and the winged soldier.
And their leader. The woman with whom Brock Rumlow had assured him was his number one priority and to kill her with quickness.
Easy.
But they were yelling. At him. TO him. They did not fear him.
Doesn't matter. He had a mission he needed to complete. Too many above him; with the two men able to fly. Rumlow, with charred skin, assured the soldier that he was commander and that these were the vile people who stood in Hydra's glorious purpose. He could care less about that.
He had a mission. He had his orders.
Moving fast, he ran for the man with the shield, intent on distracting the others from his true target. The woman.
The tanned faced woman with large wet eyes.
Tasha.
Had Rumlow told him this? Didn't matter. The other man was fighting him off but not actually engaging. Strange.
He tried again to lure the others towards the back of the large room where other agents waited with machines that would disable the two flying annoyances.
But they also would not engage.
He grew frustrated, yelling out in Russian low commands.
Push them back, use violence. Separate the woman from the others.
The other Hydra agents sprang into action, taking the redhead and forcing her into battle. She was good. Trained; felling several agents with ease.
The man with the shield would still not separate himself from the beautiful woman. He felt a pinch at the back of his skull.
Ignoring it, he ran forward once more, using a knife to slash the other man's leg as he raised his circular metal disk to cover Tasha.
Bucky!
He turned, hearing the gasp come from somewhere close. But there was no one, as he had dodged back several paces. He looked to the couple, overhead a battle with raged between the Hydra agents who were supposed to take down the fliers. They were unsuccessful.
But that voice.
Oh god! His brain! It hurt as it did when they used the machine on his.
Mission! Stay on mission!
The soldier took advantage of the tall man's lack of action, using his metal appendage to make contact with his face. A solid blow. Boney would be proud.
What?
The man's large body hit the ground with a thud. He was not unconscious but dazed enough for the Soldier to end his target.
She stood before, square shoulder. No fear.
"My Bucky." She sighed heavily. He saw sadness in her eyes; resolution. The others were deep in battle. He could do it now, wrap his hand around her slender neck. Squeeze the life out of her slightly freckled face.
Remove the emotion from her warm amber eyes.
And the soldier did, all the while the pain in his skull screaming. He raised his arm, angry when she did not fight. She did not even blink as he tightened his metal grip, sensors tingling.
He remembered the feel of her skin. It was soft and sweet. She smelled of vanilla.
Tighter. He couldn't stand the pain.
The others, her cohorts, were screaming at him. But not one attacked. Did they not want to protect their leader?
She was his target! His mission! Rumlow had assured him. But he was not Peirce. What happened to Peirce? What happened to command?
Who was this woman? The others?
She had called him Bucky. So had the man…On the bridge. That man he saved from the water. Steve Rogers. The one who lay before him, eyes pleading. The soldier was gasping now, brain tearing itself apart.
His friend from years ago. Childhood friends. Steve Rogers. And the woman. Oh his Tasha!
God, the fucking ripping pain. He was sure his eyes were bleeding from the agony.
But there was visions. War, Captain America, laughter, coldness, rain, vanilla, Tasha, skin, love, Hydra, pain.
Too much.
The blackness that had clouded his vision had finally taken his mind as he fell into the abyss.
"Cap?"
He shook his head, holding the woman close to his chest. He would not speak as he handed her lifeless body to Stark. And Stark would not speak when he delivered her to the medics room in Stark tower.
The nurses and doctors would not speak as they looked sadly at the woman whom already had deep blue and purple bruises forming around her neck.
Natalia would not speak when she entered the room in which the woman's body lay, clean white walls and clean white faces also silent.
Not a soul would speak that day.
The only noise was the faint beep beep beep.
And even that tried to remain silent.
There's not much to say here. Just.. you know. Don't stop reading. Please!