— Bucky —

I got a phone call from an anonymous number.

You'd think, with all the experience I had in people being after me, I would have learned not to answer the phone.

But I did anyway.

"I can see you through a window," the voice on the other end said, clearly distorted somehow.

"Yeah, right, do you know how many people have told me that?"

"You're drinking from a white cup, wearing a gray shirt, and holding your phone in your right hand."

Whoever it was, he was right.

As I thought about who it could be and why they were calling, it made less and less sense.

"Who are you?"

"Lombardi's dead," the voice informed me, and I immediately stiffened.

"How? Who did it?"

"I did."

I smile, playing out the conversation in my head exactly how I wanted it to go.

"Well, since you're being all anonymous, I guess you can't get any credit."

I held my finger and thumb out from my fist, showing it to Steve. That was our sign for "Careful, It Could Go Sideways Any Minute Now."

The other side of the line went silent for a moment. Steve was watching me, listening to our conversation because I'd given him the signal..

"I don't need the credit. Everyone here already knows."

Here. Where could that have been?

There was only one place.

Lombardi's building.

"Percy Jackson, listen to me, right now. Whatever you did to Lombardi, you need to undo it."

Silence followed; if I was right in who was calling, the silence was out of surprise. If I was wrong, it was probably confusion or curiosity.

"I can't undo it. He's dead. I lopped his head off with Riptide. Made a cleaner cut than I thought it would, although the splatters were terrible. All over my sleeves, cuff links, shoes. A disaster."

I leaned against the countertop, pinching my eyes shut.

"Percy, you idiot, you know what that means, right?"

"That's exactly why I did it. I'd rather rule the evil here than follow your righteousness and perfection."

The call ended, three beeps sounding in my ear as I lowered the phone from the side of my head. I glanced over to Steve, a worried look in my eyes. I was worried because clearly, Percy didn't understand what he had done.

Killing the boss meant more than taking on his responsibilities and his title.

Killing the boss meant that you were fair game for someone to kill next. Percy would take Lombardi's title, his responsibility; I would become second in command.

And if everyone saw what he had done, those still loyal to Lombardi would be after him even faster. They would kill him, and they would make sure that he was unrecognizable.

"Buck? Who was that?"

"Percy," I answered, drinking the rest of the water from my cup. "He's put a target on his back and he doesn't know it. He'll die."

Steve just looked at me with an expression I couldn't describe. I jogged up to my room, changing into a suit and grabbing my car keys. For good measure, I grabbed my Coke can sword. I put it through a loop on the inside of the waistband of my pants and walked out.

When I stepped out of my room, Steve was waiting for me with his hands shoved into his pockets, wearing a suit.

"I'm going with you."

I motioned for him to follow me, and we walked out of the tower together.

"Listen, Steve, there's something you need to know before we go in here."

"Okay."

"Well, actually quite a few things. Don't mention the name George Bolovschi. Whatever you do, don't talk about him. He was the boss that started the entire organization, and he got killed just like this guy did. They never found out who did it, and that's because… that's because it was me," I admitted, turning left onto the street that I knew the backup building was on. "I did it because he put a hit on… a hit on someone important. He told me that he was going to make me do all his dirty work and then tie me to a chair, slit my throat, and force me to watch her die. Above all else, he promised me a slow death for both of us. So then I killed him and made it look like an accident."

Steve just looks across the car at me, the only sound being my tires against the pavement. He sighed and put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it.

"Buck, it wasn't you. If I was afraid of you, I would've run by now, wouldn't I? You of all people know that I'm not afraid of confrontation; I would've already been upfront with you about anything you did that bothered me."

I smiled, parking a few blocks from the building.

"Thanks, Steve. I thought you might launch into the speech about righteousness."

He laughed, walking down the sidewalk next to me like we were two guys out for a walk and not about to take a building full of mafia men by storm.

"But… I have to ask."

I glanced at him and waited for a question that I don't know how to answer because those were his favorite to ask.

"Well, ask, I guess."

"What was her name?"

I grinned to myself, looking down at the sidewalk as I somehow managed to put one foot in front of the other.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Come on, you can't tell a story like that and not tell me her name."

I looked over at him, shaking my head playfully.

"Later. You can't be distracted right now."

He shrugs it off and pulls me into an alley between two buildings.

"What was that for?" I whisper through gritted teeth.

"I saw one of them on the sidewalk. He had a gun and looked like he was looking for someone."

I cursed under my breath, earning a slap from Steve.

"I heard that!"

I rolled my eyes and looked around, trying to figure out a plan since Percy knew I would try something. The fire escape…

"Listen. We're going to climb this fire escape and get to the roof of whatever building this is and jump until we get there. There's a door on the roof of the building that has an alarm on it, but I can disable it. When we get inside, follow me. I know exactly where he is, or where he should be if he has any sense."

As we started to climb the escape, I looked to see how many gaps we'd have to jump before we made it to Lombardi's roof. There were three alleys between us and the door we needed, which wasn't a problem. The alleys were thin in that section of the city.

"Are you sure these alleys aren't too wide?" Steve asked, standing on the concrete ledge next to me at the edge of the building. I rolled my eyes and gave him a look.

"Please. If you can launch yourself out of an elevator twenty floors above the glass roof of a building and go crashing through it, I think you'll be okay. Not to mention that you got up and walked away after that."

He sighed, shaking his head and grinning.

"You had to do it, didn't you?"

"Always a pleasure," I reminded him before jumping across the gap. He followed me soon after, and in almost no time at all, we had made it to the door. I pressed my thumbprint to the keypad and the door automatically swung open, allowing us inside.

"If he's smart, he'll have a protocol activated that alerts him whenever someone opens an exterior door. When we get down this stairwell, run like your life depends on it, because it does. Follow me."

At the bottom of the stairwell, I took a moment to make sure no one would see us. When I saw that the coast was clear, I turned left and sprinted through the corridor. I ducked into a supply closet and waited, watching. The closet was built purely of cement blocks and had a bare cement floor. Metal shelves lined the walls, covered in cleaning supplies and other odds and ends. Buckets, mops, and brooms sat on the floor next to the shelves. I observed the contents of the room so I could use them later if need be.

"What are we doing?" Steve whispered into the dark, his head above mine as we peered out into the hallway through the cracked door.

"Ssh. I'm waiting to see how long it takes for him to send someone to check it out."

A few seconds later, Thorin turned the corner, looking around for anyone that could be a threat. The sound of his shoes against the carpet of the dead silent hallway seemed macabre, echoing throughout the vaulted ceilings.

"All clean, boss. No one uses the roof door anyway. Probably a false alarm."

Already calling him boss.

Percy was going to get it; probably violently, too.

As Thorin walked toward the closet, I flung open the door and pulled him inside. I shut the door quietly behind him and clicked the light on.

"Oh, I remember you! You're with… Jackson," he remembered, nodding to me. I looked to Steve and then back to Thorin.

"Right. We're kind of… not on the same terms anymore. Anyway, help me help you help the three of us. Can I see the inside of your wrists?"

He held his arms out, face-up, and I saw the blue wave.

"Good. Let me ask you something: do you align with any of the men here? Are any of them your friends, anyone you share common beliefs with?"

He thinks and shakes his head, which is a good sign. We won't have to hunt anyone else down.

"Is this about my wrist?" The poor guy looked terrified,

"Yes," Steve and I simultaneously replied.

"They're causing a disaster, we know, but the fact that everyone here has one is slightly concerning; especially considering that they're different from ours. We're not here to hurt you. We're on your side. You just happened to walk by the closet at the perfect time," I informed Thorin, and he seemed to relax a little. "Our marks are the same. The thing that sets us apart from Jackson and his crew of… people is that we know what the images mean and they don't."

"Hold on," Thorin paused. "You're Captain America! That's how I know you."

Steve grinned, nodding. "I am."

"So you're trying to tell me that you're not loyal to this whole… thing?" Thorin asked, the question aimed at me.

"Oh, definitely not. I only did it to see what Lombardi did with my brother. I mean, I was in here before, but that's not important."

"Hold on! You're the Winter Soldier! This is crazy!"

I shrugged, looking back to Thorin. "I guess so. So, will you work with us?"

Thorin looked back and forth between Steve and I; probably contemplating whether or not to trust the men that had just yanked him into a supply closet at work.

"Yeah. I'm in. What do I have to do?"

"Well, you probably watched what went down earlier today. We need information about that and Jackson's recent habits in general."

Thorin blanched a few shades at the mention of earlier that day. It was evident in his face that it got ugly in that room, which made me want to find out what happened all the more.

"Well, some guy had run up to Jackson's office to tell him that they were after Lombardi. There have been riots all day, and before Lombardi, they had me hung upside down from the balcony about to have my throat slit because I have the wave and they have red lightning-"

"Red lightning," I muttered, making a mental note of that. "Continue."

"Anyway, Jackson threw the doors open and saw this big ceremony of the entire room in absolute chaos. He looks around, tells me to hold his jacket, and runs into the crowd. I'm pretty sure he pulled a sword before he started running. He jumped up and cut the rope and Lombardi fell to the floor. I shoved my way to the front of the crowd at that point, because I wanted to see what Jackson would do. Lombardi told Jackson that he was better than what he was about to do, and Jackson agreed. Then he starts talking about how Lombardi needs to be removed or something before he can be his best. Then, Jackson calls him… Grace? What does that mean? And then, Jackson basically-" he made a gesture, miming a decapitation. "But it was a lot more forceful than that. Lombardi was just on the floor, and Jackson basically held the sword in one hand and brought it sideways, and then threw his arm toward his throat and it was over. Then he walked out to rinse the blood off his sword."

I put my hands on my hips and sighed, looking up at the ceiling of the closet.

"And what was the part about Jackson being your brother?"

"It's uh, complicated. Our dad is the same Greek god-"

"Your dad is a Greek god?! My dad is Apollo."

"Poseidon," I answered, nodding my head. "I don't know if you know this or not, but I used to work here. Under Bolovschi. The rules were that if the boss was killed, everyone loyal to him went after the new guy in command. Tried to kill him more brutally than the former boss had been killed. It was like a contest to see who the better killer was. The guy after Bolovschi lasted two weeks."

Thorin paled again, and if I'm not mistaken I think Steve did too.

"So you're trying to kill Jackson?"

"Gods, no. He's a son of Poseidon, my brother, and I'm trying to get his head screwed on straight. He never used to be a particularly violent person, but I think it has something to do with his mom and his stepdad being killed by monsters. Something like that."

"Oh. That explains a lot."

I nodded, glancing at the door again.

"Here's the game plan," I began. "We go into Jackson's office because by now he's activated the protocol. There's a trapdoor in the basement that leads to a secret office that's more secure than a bomb shelter and Area 51 combined. I can get in, that's not the part we need to worry about. The part we should worry about is how to get down there without being seen. Knowing Jackson, he's put a specific watch on me and wants a report if anyone sees me. Thorin, does he still trust you?"

Thorin thought for a moment, processing the plan and thinking about whether or not he was trusted.

"He should. I haven't said or done anything to make someone question where my loyalties lie."

I did a silent celebration in my head. That was going to be the key to getting into the secure office.

"Good. That's helpful. On my count, we storm out of this supply closet and run as fast as we can. I know where the door to the office is, so follow me."

I opened the door as quietly as possible, looking outside and then hitting a dead sprint down the corridor leading to the stairwell. The pounding of our feet had to have been heard somewhere, but that wasn't a concern. As long as no one investigated, we would be okay.

Taking the stairs down three at a time, I ended up on the ground floor in nearly no time at all.

I found the elevator to the basement, used the fingerprint scanner to allow us in, and jumped inside with Steve and Thorin. I pressed the button to close the doors and waited.

"This is going to be the hard part. It's just rows and rows of desks down here, separated into rooms. It's a madhouse down here and most of the Lombardi men don't know it exists."

The doors slid open and I was greeted with men standing in ranks, horizontal lines in the shape of a pyramid with the point aimed at the elevator doors. The basement was a huge room with high ceilings, maybe twenty feet high. The desks had been shoved to the edges, making room for the copious amount of men to stand in the center.

"On whose authority are you three down here?" the frontman inquired, and they stood even more rigid than before.

"You had to ask," Steve commented, his Brooklyn accent coming out just a bit. "How do you think we opened the door if we weren't properly authorized?"

The ranks didn't budge. The knife on my hip suddenly didn't seem like such a bad option.

"On my signal," I whispered, in Greek, "you fight like demons and I'll make something happen. Little Poseidon magic."

"I understood that," Steve replied, clearly amazed with himself.

"It's Greek," Thorin said. "You're hardwired to know it."

I turned back around and surveyed the crowd of men, snapping my fingers after a few seconds.

I opened my Coke can and charged into the ranks, slashing my way through them for a few seconds before quickly realizing that we'd never be able to take them all. They kept coming like a never-ending mob.

Bad pun.

They were the mob.

I summoned water, breaking pipes in the walls and putting my hands on Steve and Thorin's shoulders to keep them in my oxygen bubble to protect them from drowning along with everyone else.

When I was sure everyone else was gone, I forced the water back through the pipes and adjusted my suit jacket.

I strode down the hallway, finding no other threats to deal with before I got to the most secure door in the entire building.

"There are a ton of security questions on this thing," I informed Steve and Thorin.

"Like what?"

"Boss's middle name, favorite color, dumb things like that."

I answered the first question; an easy one.

What is the boss's favorite color?

Blue.

"The fact that it's giving us questions means that someone is definitely in there. The questions only activate when the boss identifies himself and goes inside," I explained, becoming more sure that I was on the right track.

What is the boss's dad's name?

Poseidon.

Boss's birthday?

August 18.

The first thing that the boss killed?

I smiled at that question. It seemed like he was feeding me the questions as I answered them, even though I knew they were pre-programmed. I answered, and the screen swung open until it was perpendicular to the door and revealed a thumbprint scanner.

"What is it with this building and thumbprints?" Steve commented, rolling his eyes.

"I don't know, but this hallway could be dangerous. Let me go in, and you'll see when I get through because there will be light at the end. When you see that light, sprint to the end as fast as you can. Don't hesitate. If you don't see a light within a minute or two, come after me."

I walked down the concrete hallway where there would be another locked door at the end. The hallway hadn't been used for a very long time before today; it smelled of mildew and stale air. It was also completely dark because I couldn't see my hand five inches in front of my face. The hallway seemed to stretch for miles, staying the exact same the entire way; no light, a musty, stale smell, and dead silence except for the sound of our footsteps.

The corridor stayed about five feet wide, wide enough for two to walk side-by-side. I stayed close to the wall to keep a bearing on how wide the corridor was. The entire walk only took about forty-five seconds. Finally, when I reached the locked door, the space felt like it was about the size of a shoebox. Based on how lightheaded I felt, the air I breathed hadn't been circulated in decades. I couldn't breathe, the walls were closing in-

I began to slump down the wall.

I was dying.

I felt it in my heart, my brain, my limbs.

My lungs felt tight in my chest; unable to expand, unable to release the carbon dioxide.

I heard a voice, from a distance, but I couldn't process where or whom it was coming from.

My chest heaved, my eyes closed, and I tried to prevent myself from letting my fear take over. The voice around me was close, I knew that it was there, but it didn't register in my brain as it should have. The cold concrete against my legs and back was a feeling I welcomed, because it counteracted the claustrophobic, stuffy heat of the long hallway.

I felt parts of my body beginning to stiffen and my muscles started to twitch involuntarily.

I'mgoingtodieI'mgoingtodieI'mgoingtodie.

I'm going to die.

I'm going to die.

I'm dying.

I think I'm dead.