The acquisition of Jane Foster was more difficult than expected. She was not, as Darcy Lewis had anticipated, at the apartment. Darcy Lewis had been sure the small scientist would be at home because it was after 1500 local time, which was when they "napped before so they could do nighttime fun." He'd allowed Darcy Lewis to hold on to his elbow for the entire walk back to their rented rooms. It turned out to be a solid strategic decision as she almost tripped over nothing twice.
"Where would I be if I were a workaholic doctorate who recently lost their assistant." Darcy Lewis seemed to be speaking to herself, but he appreciated that she was trying to put herself in the mind of their quarry. It was a technique he often used himself, although he generally did it silently and with fewer hand movements. Darcy Lewis clearly had a flair for the dramatic.
She turned to face him, "You're going to help us escape from Hydra right?" He had not made up his mind about this yet. Darcy Lewis stared him down.
"What happens if I say no?" He asked because curiosity was quickly becoming his defining character trait.
"Well," she said, "we'll probably die here in Ankara and that would really be a shame for everyone involved." He'd been wrong about Darcy Lewis overestimating her own skills. She was clearly very aware of how far she could actually get them without help. "They've never gotten this close before." This last part was said in a smaller voice, and she'd started to collapse in on herself, her shoulders hunching and her face crumpling up. "What if they've already got Jane?" This part was almost a wail.
He didn't know which part of himself disliked crying women, but his reaction to her tears was visceral. "They don't." He reassured quickly. "They would not have left all her papers behind." He motioned to the notebooks still spread out on the only table in the main room of the small apartment.
This seemed to help because Darcy Lewis sniffed a few times and straightened up. "You'll help?" There were still tears clinging to the lashes around her big blue eyes, and much later, James Barnes would tell Darcy Lewis that this was why he agreed to help. It would be a lie. He decided to help when he realized the alternative was her death.
—
The next logical location for Jane Foster was the university, but before they left the apartment, he made Darcy Lewis pack. They would not be coming back.
"Take only what you absolutely need," he said, and then he watched her dither over whether or not she was going to need both a purple and a red cardigan.
"We can only take one bag for each of you," he said, and by the time they left, Darcy Lewis was carrying two bags, and he had three.
"This will make extraction difficult," he said, and Darcy Lewis led him around the corner to a car he had not realized they possessed. It was a small car but well made and in perfect repair. "Is this registered to you?" He asked.
"Of course not." Darcy Lewis scoffed as she threw the last of her bags into the trunk. "I stole it in Bulgaria three weeks ago. Don't tell Jane. We haven't used it since we got here."
This was acceptable and meant it was unlikely the car had been bugged. "You still need to carry fewer things," he said, but he threw his things in the back and climbed into the driver's seat anyways, starting the car while she was still walking around the side. It started without issue, and he couldn't hear anything to suggest it had been tampered with. Good enough for now. He got out and moved to the passenger side, saying, "You drive."
They made it to the university without issue, and he put a hand up when Darcy Lewis started looking for a parking spot. "You circle the building. I will retrieve Jane Foster."
"There is no way Jane is going to follow you out of that building." Darcy Lewis sounded firm about this. "Are you really going to help us?"
He looked over to find her watching him with that severe attention again. "Yes," he paused, searching for words he hadn't used in decades, "I promise." Darcy Lewis stared at him for a few more seconds, and she must have found what she was looking for because she nodded.
"She'll be on the third floor, probably in one of the back carrels. You might need to shock her, not literally, mind you, to get her full attention. Tell her you have some questions for her about her research on Bilgesnipes. If she asks about me, tell her I've already told you everything I know, and I sent you to her for more info." Darcy Lewis was very serious with her instructions, and he nodded along. It wasn't a particularly sophisticated code, but it was more than he expected. He could teach her to improve it.
"We will be back here in 12 minutes," he said.
"You got a deal," she agreed, and then he climbed out of the car.
He was not in the right gear for this kind of mission. He was in civilian clothes, but any agent worth their badge would be able to tell he was armed from 100 yards. He was not dressed to blend in on a university campus.
He made it past the library lobby without issue but ran into trouble in a second-floor corridor. The woman had sandy blonde hair, and she *was* dressed to fit in but not well enough to fool him. He could tell she was American from the way she tied her headscarf and the brand of her tennis shoes. He tried to skirt past her to avoid both detection and conflict, but she turned at the wrong moment, and he knew she'd made him. He snapped her neck before she could raise her comm to her mouth to give him away.
He took the stairs three at a time up to the third floor and tried to push away intrusive thoughts about how much Darcy Lewis would cry if he had to return to the car without Jane Foster alive and well. It was another reason not to fail in his task.
Jane Foster was in the last carrel of the row on the third floor. She was very absorbed in her work. He made it within a few inches of her back before she registered his presence, but then she turned, and he found himself with a small switchblade pressed against his stomach. It seemed Jane Foster should also not be underestimated.
"Darcy Lewis sent me to ask you about your research on Bilgesnipes. She's told me all she can and says you can tell me more." The coded phrases fell from his lips awkwardly, but they did the trick. Jane Foster didn't ask any questions. She just swept all her research into yet another bag he knew he'd end up carrying and slung it on her back.
"Lead the way, and I swear to you, if Darcy isn't at the end of this walk, you'll regret it." She looked fierce, and he wondered, not for the last time, what exactly he'd committed to when he promised Darcy Lewis he would help them.
They run into more trouble on their way out of the building. This time in the first-floor corridor leading out to the parking lot. He was slower to make the agent this time. The man's clothing was better suited to the campus and did not telegraph his movements as clearly. He pushed Jane Foster behind him just as the gun swung up from the agent's side and his metal arm took the brunt of both bullets. The agent had just enough time to register who he shot before a bullet landed right between his eyes.
"Wow… you just shot him. Just right between the eyes and…are you shot?" Jane Foster babbled when she was scared. This was good to know for the future.
"We need to move. That agent will have told them you're leaving. There will be more." He pulled her from the building. They were two minutes early to meet Darcy Lewis, and he could see the little blue car coming along the far edge of the parking lot. He could also see two more agents now sprinting in their direction from the main entrance of the library. "Get behind me."
"Absolutely." Jane Foster took orders well.
He deflected two more shots off his arm and pulled a second gun from under his shirt to return fire. He took out one of the approaching agents before the second dove for cover. The little blue car pulled up the curb with a squeal of tires, and he shoved Jane Foster into the backseat before climbing into the front. "Drive."
Darcy Lewis could drive. She made sloppy turns and did not know how to keep the vehicle steady for a passenger trying to fire at a moving tail, but these things could be taught. What could not be taught was the absolutely fearless way she gunned the accelerator or the way she took turns when directed with no hesitation.
The Hydra agents had regrouped and were following them now. Two standard issue black SUVs were tailing them at high speed. They were shooting at every opportunity, and he was returning fire.
"Where did you find this guy Darce?" Jane Foster found her own curiosity once they were in the car.
"Funny story," Darcy Lewis yelled back over the sound of another round of enemy fire, "he kidnapped me at the market this morning and then agreed to help us escape Hydra. I think he's the Winter Soldier."
"Take a left." The Winter Soldier said.
"Like the actual Winter Soldier?" Jane Foster yelled back.
"Yea," Darcy Lewis shouted, "like the original Bucky Barnes aka Winter Soldier from TV a few months ago."
"Now a right then keep it steady," Bucky Barnes, aka the Winter Soldier, directed.
"I got you, fam." Darcy Lewis yelled, and then she screamed as the back windshield shattered. "You okay, Janie?"
"All good. Which of these bags has my notes in it?" Jane Foster asked.
"Another right," he ordered.
"The black backpack with the MewMew patch has all your notes in it." Darcy Lewis bellowed as she leaned hard on the wheel to make the turn he'd requested.
"I don't see the green notebook with the data from that place in Cyprus." Jane Foster yelped as another bullet hit the trunk behind her.
"It's in there." Darcy Lewis called back. "I made sure to get them all."
"Oh! Found it." Jane Foster exclaimed.
"Take the exit for that tunnel at the last possible moment," he requested.
"You got it, boss." Darcy Lewis made the lane change expertly, and he watched one of their tails run straight into the highway divider when they couldn't follow her lead. The other was too close for comfort, though. He would need to handle it another way.
"Do not stop driving. I will catch up." He grunted as he hauled himself half out of the window, keeping a firm hand on both his guns.
"What is he doing!?" Jane Foster screeched from the backseat.
"Well, Janie, it looks like he's going to… yep, he's climbing onto the roof, and I bet he's going to jump…."
He did not hear the rest of Darcy Lewis' statement as he was already in the air and landing heavily on the hood of the SUV behind them. There were two agents inside, and it was the work of seconds to shoot them both and then take a running leap back onto the car. The roof of the car dented under his weight when he landed, and both women screamed. He pulled himself back through the passenger side window.
"I think that is all of them. We need to get a new car," he said.
"Yeah buddy. We really do." Darcy Lewis agreed.
—
Their car only made it three more klicks before the engine sputtered out into nothing. They could not have taken it much farther anyways. They needed to find a transportation method less likely to attract attention or be expected. He left the women to consolidate bags. Jane Foster was much more understanding of his luggage limits than Darcy Lewis and went to find better transportation. He already knew what he found would not be appreciated by either woman, but he did not expect this level of reaction.
"This is a chicken truck." Darcy Lewis did not sound amused.
"Yes," he agreed.
"This is a truck that is transporting chickens." She seemed to have started to repeat herself.
"They are going to Istanbul according to the shipping labels. We will not be noticed in the back," he explained.
"We're stowing away in the back of a chicken truck?" Jane Foster seemed more resigned to the situation.
"This is the best way to get out of the city undetected. We can then find a new base of operations." He felt this should be obvious.
"From Istanbul we can probably head toward the Sofia Observatory in Bulgaria Darce. They've got quite a bit of research I'd love to get into." Jane Foster was already trying to climb into the back of the truck.
"It smells awful." Darcy Lewis looked at him with pleading eyes. He would need to build up a resistance to her pleading eyes.
"It's better than being dead?" He asked.
Darcy Lewis smiled at him, and he could *really* teach her to use that operationally. "Yes." She agreed. "It is better than being dead."
—
Darcy Lewis was not great at operating within mission parameters. Two hours into the ride to Istanbul, Jane Foster had been asleep for 90 minutes, but Darcy Lewis was wide awake and had a lot to say on the matter of 'hitching a ride in a chicken truck.
"Do you think we'll get bird flu?" It was the second time she had asked this question, and he really wasn't sure how to answer. He did not have to worry about things like the flu anymore. He knew this for sure, even if he didn't know how he knew it. Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster were still susceptible to the flu, but he was unsure how to prevent illness. Most of his experience was in ending life, not caring for it.
"No," he said, hoping it was the correct answer.
Darcy Lewis examined him for a long moment. Her face was very expressive, and he liked it even though he wanted to train her to do a better job hiding her thoughts from others. "What should we call you?" This question was asked in a softer voice, and it seemed more serious than the brash questions she'd been asking before. She talked to cover her anxiety.
What should they call him? He'd had a lot of names over the years, and he'd started to remember them all recently. He liked some more than others. "James," he said, and Darcy Lewis nodded.
"I like it," she said, and then she crawled across the small space he'd carved out for them among the chicken cages. "You can call me Darcy. You'll have to ask Jane if she'd prefer you use her honorific, though. She can get feisty about that sometimes."
"Darcy." He tried out just her first name, and he liked the way it felt in his mouth. "You should sleep." He added because she really should. It was barely first dark, but they wouldn't be able to stop moving for a long time after they got to Istanbul. She needed rest.
"When do you sleep?" She asked.
"When we're safe." He told her, and she seemed to consider this for a moment before she nodded.
"I'm not sure I can sleep here." She admitted, and she looked small again. He didn't like it. She was going to have a lousy time if she couldn't sleep. "Talk to me?"
"About what?" He grumbled before leaning back against a stack of cages and closing his eyes.
"Anything. Tell me a story."
"I don't know any stories," he lied. The minute she'd issued the demand, his mind had flooded with memories. Little sisters in a big shared bed and him sitting in an old wooden chair speaking softly, changing his voice for all the characters. "You tell me a story," he countered.
"Okay." She agreed instantly, and he cracked open one eye to find her watching him with a smug smile on her lips. He didn't know how but he was pretty sure he'd walked right into a trap of some kind. "You ready?" She asked, and he scowled, which only made her smile get bigger.
"Yes." He grunted because maybe she would talk herself to sleep. Somehow it seemed unlikely.
"Okay." She wiggled around, settling back to lean against her backpack across from him, "A long time ago in a galaxy far away…."
Both his eyes snapped open, and his scowl deepened, "You are not going to recite Star Wars to me."
Her eyes went perfectly round, her eyebrows drawing up in confusion, her full lips formed a perfect o. "Star Wars?" She was the picture of false innocence, and the snort it pulled from him was the closest he'd gotten to laughing in years.
"I was exposed to pop culture for several missions. Try harder."
"Fine." She dragged out the word into a whine, and it had his lips pulling up into a smirk. "Did you see Stardust?"
He shook his head no and was rewarded with another one of her full smiles, the one that lit up her entire face. "You're going to love it." She resettled herself. "You ready?"
He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes again. "Yes."
"Okay. Here it goes.
"A philosopher once asked, 'Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?' Pointless, really. Do the stars gaze back? Now, that's a question…."
It was nothing to let her voice wash over him as they moved through the night.