Winter of the White Wolf

Chapter 4 - Target Practice

"You can toss it harder. I'm not made of glass here," Sam insisted over his coms as he tracked Bucky a distance below. The wings the Wakandan Design Group had given him may have borne a passing resemblance to his old EXO-7s, but they had a heck of a lot more power and all-around tech that he was still getting used to. Not that he was complaining. He felt like there were probably a whole lotta features he hadn't even discovered yet.

Between the sensors on his suit and drones, his overhead display showed a teal and orange outline of where Bucky was running, hidden beneath a sea of lazy green branches of Loblolly pines. The man was clocking just over 70 MPH, and Sam found himself shaking his head, knowing that, knowing him, that probably equated to a healthy jog rather than a sprint. Super soldiers, man.

"If it ends up in the river, you're getting it out, not me," came Bucky's reply into his earbud, followed promptly by an, "Alley-Oop!"

A streak of red, blue, and polished vibranium silver blazed the air a sort distance in front of him, and Sam had to reorient himself on the fly, jerking himself to one side as he triggered his thrusters to catch up to the quickly-moving disk. He pivoted, landing the catch, but underestimated the force behind it. He felt himself waver and then stabilize in midair, and all he could think was that if his arms were sore the next day: he'd only have himself and his damn ego to blame.

"Back-atcha," Sam slung the shield back towards the ground below, continuing their makeshift game of tag, or whatever teambuilding exercise this could be called between the two of them. Neither had explicitly tried to put a name to any of this. Well. Bucky'd tried and Sam had brushed it off, downgrading the inquiry of "partners" to "coworkers." But deep down, he had to admit that first one was likely more accurate, though it also carried a profoundly different weight and responsibility. He was no stranger to either, but he also knew what it felt like to lose a partner, and most days, he didn't want to risk ever feeling like that ever again.

Even still: words had power.

That stuff Bucky'd said to him inside the house had a way of swirling around his head, too. He'd made a lot more assumptions about the man than he'd realized, and if anything, the added clarity just made him feel more kinship and sympathy towards him.

Sam pulled himself low over the treetops, appreciating the view over the horizon, but was abruptly jolted back to the present when he heard the proximity alarm go off. He had to bank and roll to avoid taking the brunt of the impact, but he quickly recovered and chased after the shield as it streaked high, reflecting the light like a rogue planetary body. He increased the speed of his burners to compensate and jetted towards it, catching it cleanly with a flourish. "That almost felt intentional," he remarked into his coms.

"Hard to see you through the trees," came the non-committal reply.

"Your vision really that bad, or that good?"

"Well, I've never met a super soldier with glasses. You?"

Sam barked a laugh, "Touché." His earpiece chirped, and his heads-up display showed an incoming caller: Torres. He hadn't heard from him in weeks. Something must be up if he was making a point to reach out of the blue.

With a quick turn, he coasted low, coming up a short distance behind Bucky on the jogging trail. His feet hit the ground at a jog and he came to a rolling stop as he lifted his arm to put the call through to the onboard speaker system. Bucky turned at the noise and trotted back, putting things together as he leaned against a nearby tree to listen in.

"Wilson here," Sam said smoothly, "I'm here with Sergent Barnes. What's up, Torres. How you doing?"

"Didn't mean to intrude," the figure on the display apologized, "But I wanted to make sure you heard the news. The full report hasn't been released yet. It's on a need-to-know basis."

"News?"

"Yeah. About an hour ago, there was a series of hits in Symkaria that led to the deaths of a number of high-profile individuals. There's a lot of details still coming in, but I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as I heard the news, because one of the nearby security cameras also picked up this." Bucky stepped closer to get a clear view of the display as it changed to a timestamped playback of what appeared to be a busy, but otherwise typical street view. "Watch the top corner." Torres instructed, "Right there!" The remote playback paused, and a red circle annotation appeared around the area in question. "See it?"

Sam squinted, all business, "Play it back again, Torres. On a loop, please."

When he did, it was apparent that a shadowed figure managed a leap across the better part of half a city block. There were few people that could make a leap like that, and one of them was standing right next to him, "So you think this is our guy?"

Torres's face appeared in the corner of the display, "Could be. It's a few blocks away from one of the murders, but we don't have much to go on. It seemed like this situation might be up your alley." Torres's eyes glanced to Bucky, and his voice hushed with moderated enthusiasm, "Could be one of the big four."

Bucky groaned, "It's four now?"

"Androids, aliens, wizards, and metahumans."

Bucky offered Sam a dramatic roll of his eyes accented with a shrug, "It's sorcerer, not wizard," he made it a point to project his voice so Torres could hear, "That's what Strange calls himself, and he's kinda an expert on the matter."

"Oh, he does?" Torres considered.

"Anyway," Sam interjected before the conversation could be derailed any further, "How soon can you pick us up?"

"I'm already on my way to the Joint Reserve Base." Torres looked off-screen and turned back to the camera, "Should be on the ground by fourteen hundred."

"We'll meet you there. Thanks Torres."

"Anytime, Cap!" There was enthusiasm in his voice, like he'd been waiting for the perfect moment to say the key word.

Sam smiled. The moniker was still going to take some time to get used to, but it didn't feel quite so much like it was someone else's when Torres said it. He nodded his head in acknowledgement and ended the call.

"So. Symkaria," Bucky considered aloud.

"You been there?"

"Yep. You?"

"Not on the ground, no."

"You can tell me more about it while we pack."

"Who says I'm coming?" Bucky's tone was smug but playful as he pivoted and started walking back in the direction of the house, "You know Sarah's making mac and cheese tonight."

Sam smirked and sent a look his way as he walked beside his friend on the dirt trail, "I wasn't aware your busy schedule was already booked."

Bucky politely resigned himself with his right hand, "What can I say? Your sister makes some pretty amazing mac and cheese." He rolled his vibranium hand to his other side, making a show of flexing it as he considered aloud, "But if Captain America needs me…"

"Were you always this annoying?"

The man beside him grinned, clapping Sam on his nearest shoulder, "You know what they say: the serum amplifies whatever's inside."

"So enhanced annoying. Got it."

Bucky snorted once but just kept that same smile on his face as he kept pace beside Sam.

Author's Remarks:

There are fans out there with decidedly more worldly and granular knowledge of the Marvel universe than I, so if going forward you have suggestions of an alternative location to use that would be more appropriate than Symkaria as we get rolling, I'm all ears!

Also, while "mutant" is more Marvel-friendly, I felt like that's a loaded term, so I went with metahuman instead.

In the meantime: It's time to kick-off the action! :) I'd love any and all feedback you have for me, as it helps motivate me to keep on keepin' on!