Chapter 20: Team-Building

When Tony came to, he opened his eyes slowly. His head hurt. He tried to move, but he realized instantly he was restrained—shackled to a cement beam, in fact. He had been deprived of his shoes, belt, and jacket, but, hey, at least they left him his shirt, pants, socks, and underwear.

A groan pulled his attention to his right.

For the love of…

"Captain America. Really? They got you?" He huffed at Cap who was in his uniform, sans helmet and shield. "What good is being a supersoldier if you can't take a few goons?" There was Clint coming around next to Cap.

He looked around. Yep. Natasha was there, too, on a beam to the right. The only one missing was Dr. Banner. Well, and Thor, but no one was stupid enough to go after Thor, if he was even still on Earth.

Banner, either, come to think about it. Yeah, no one was stupid enough to try to make a play on Banner, not unless they had a weird fetish involving being pulverized into a fine pâté of human flesh.

Steve's head tilted up and he blinked at Stark, then looked around. Instantly testing the shackles around each wrist, which were three times the size of the others and anchored solidly to a metal war near the door. Steve gritted his teeth and strained, groaning with the effort, but the shackles held tight. The kidnappers weren't messing around. An extra-thick set of cuffs bound his ankles, tethering them together and to the wall. Basically, he was a bug pinned to a very, very solid wall, almost spread-eagle.

"So, Hydra, the Russians, or both, am I right?" Tony asked. "I mean, we did waltz into their super secret bunker and steal a bunch of their stuff. I'm sure they're pissed."

"Yeah, gotta be," Steve said, "but my guess is Rumlow's involved."

This whole thing was just downright…embarrassing. "We fought aliens…Aliens!" Tony lamented. "We fought a demigod and an alien army and won, but a few garden variety humans just bested us."

"We had the Hulk and Thor for the aliens," Natasha reminded him.

Well, that pretty much laid out who the MVPs were. Tony looked around the large room. Cap's shield was propped against the far wall. There was a computer control panel in the center and rows of dusty, ancient computer banks as far as the eye could see.

"Well, I might as well take down my shingle," he muttered. "I can't compete with this state-of-the-art Hydra tech."

"This would be beyond state of the art in my time," Steve said, his gaze sweeping around the room.

"So, what do you think they want with us?" Clint asked.

-0- -0- -0-

Obtaining a jacket, a hat, and cash was easy. Civilians were too casual with their belongings. He kept his head low as he walked into the corner shop and bypassed the clerk without a glance. The man was watching a television hung on the wall and barely looked his way. The liquids were in a case at the rear of the store. An image of another store, similar in layout, flashed in his mind, but the details were fuzzy. His previous missions were wiped, though remnants of them usually remained. A face. A plea. The recoil of a rifle in his hand.

This time his mind conjured up a man's face behind a counter, seated on a stool, his eyes going wide above a smile. There was no screen behind him like the one hung on the wall.

"Hey, Bucky, just got in a fresh batch of eggs, if you're interested."

He shook his head and pushed the intrusion away as he studied the wall of bottled beverages and his mind, for a moment, went blank. He was unprepared for the enormity of it all. The rows of colors and shapes. Some showed him their contents, others were a mystery.

There was a section of tall, clear bottles. Water. He grabbed two, then headed down the aisles, scanning. The selections were confusing. He wasn't sure what was nutrition and what wasn't. His stomach grumbled, but he could go another day, if need be. Marching to the counter, he slapped a bill with a 10 on it and was about to leave the store when the faces on the screen stopped him.

Still images of the Steve and the one named Tony Stark were on the screen. "Steve Rogers/Captain America and Tony Stark/Iron Man are missing."

Missing?

Hydra. Hydra wanted him and did not get him, so they had taken the others. They would extract information from them, otherwise, the two men would already be dead.

But they were likely not dead. Hydra would need time to extract information. The Steve would not give up easily. He was a stubborn man….He….He….

"I can do this all day." The voice echoed in his head, bringing the familiar ache.

The mutilated thing bucked and kicked, clawing upward, screaming.

Steve. Steve. STEVE!

A command, simple and direct, drowned out the chaos with a new mission.

Protect.

"Are you okay?" the clerk asked.

His eyes snapped to the clerk. He turned and hurried to the street. He needed weapons. He knew where to start.

-0- -0- -0-

Jasper Sitwell didn't like messes, and the current situation was a complete and total disaster. Pierce was dead. Rumlow and Karpov had assembled an impressive team and managed to kidnap most of the Avengers. Fury was on the scent, sniffing around, figuring out that Hydra and SHIELD were two sides of the same coin.

And the goddamned Winter Soldier was loose.

Project Insight needed to move forward on schedule. Zola's algorithm had already begun methodically working through the data and identifying targets.

He fired up his laptop, logged into the encrypted server, and—

Found himself choking, gasping, being held up by a metal hand around his neck. He looked into steel blue eyes framed by dark hair as he wrapped his hands around the unyielding metal fist.

Oh, shit.

The rumors were true. You really didn't see this guy coming until he was already there.

He couldn't breathe! The Soldier was choking him, and he couldn't breathe. Who had sent him and why? Did the Avengers figure out how to control him?

The metal arm lowered him enough that his toes touched the floor, and he propped himself up the best he could, desperate to relieve the pressure around his trachea.

Behind the mask came a flat voice. "Where are they?"

The grip eased, and Sitwell sucked in a deep, greedy breath. "Th–They'll kill me–"

A hand grabbed his, pressed, snapped fingers. He howled, and the metal hand squeezed, cutting off the sound instantly. His vision blurred, went dark around the edges. The pressure eased, and he fell to his knees.

"Okay," he gasped, chest heaving.

God, he was going to puke all over the Winter Soldier's boots. He was a dead man either way. The Asset never left witnesses, but if he gave him what he wanted, his death would probably be quick instead of slow and painful.

-0- -0- -0-

The mission had been a success, and the unlocked encrypted device proved useful. Project Insight was Hydra's priority, and multiple targets had already been identified. The Avengers were a threat to that project.

The name of the location Sitwell provided—Camp Lehigh in New Jersey—was like an itch in the center of his brain that he couldn't scratch.

Steve was a threat. Hydra eliminated threats. Hydra would eliminate Steve once he was no longer useful. Time was of the essence. He needed resources beyond the small cache of weapons and currency gained from Sitwell's apartment.

He scanned the bios of the targets, scrolling through names, occupations, locations, birthdates. Several were geographically proximate. He discarded civilians and continued scanning until one bio met the requisite parameters.

Transportation was an issue he needed to resolve promptly.

-0- -0- -0-

"Look, if you get a lead, call me," Bruce hung up the phone and sighed. Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Clinton had been missing for hours, and Fury had no leads.

It didn't escape his notice that he was the only Avenger who wasn't missing. Thor—well, no one knew where he was, but he was almost certainly safe. No one would mess with that guy.

Which meant whoever was responsible didn't want to deal with the Big Green Rage Monster. Smart. It also meant he had nothing to do but twiddle his thumbs.

The window to his lab shattered, and he almost went green as he spun to face the threat, his mind speeding through the various stupid ways Hydra might try to make a play on him. Did they think they could take him out before the Big Guy showed up?

The figure standing in the center of his lab was instantly recognizable. Bruce's arm turned a subtle hue of green.

He took a deep breath. Not now. Deep breath.

"Uh, hello." How the hell did the guy manage to leap through a window almost 80 floors up? "Nice of you to stop by. We were looking for you." Barnes stared at him silently. "You could have used the elevator."

"This floor is locked." Barnes said.

"Ah, right." Well, at least the guy was actually conversing now. That was progress. "The rest of the Avengers have been kidnapped."

"I know."

"You know?" He hoped to hell Barnes didn't have anything to do with it. "Did you–"

"Hydra will kill them. I require your assistance to engage."

"Engage? With Hydra?"

"Affirmative."

"You know about…." he waved a hand in the air, "my condition?"

"I have researched the Avengers. You are among the strongest." Barnes' blue eyes looked him up and down. "You get bigger?"

"Oh, yeah, but the big guy isn't exactly safe to be around, for anyone."

"Neither am I."

Well, there was that.

"Will you assist?" Barnes asked.

He couldn't very well say no, not when his friends' lives were on the line. "Yeah. Do you have a plan?"

Barnes nodded. "Come with me. We have one stop to make before engaging."

"Where? What stop?"

-0- -0- -0-

Sam Wilson stretched on his doorstep after his morning jog. He had a day off, and he planned to spend it on his butt on the couch in front of the TV for a few hours…right after he took a shower.

He headed to his bedroom, started the hot water, stripped, and hopped in. A quick soap up and rinse off, and he was out, toweling off and shuffling back into his bedroom when he was suddenly flying through the air.

He hit the top of his mattress face-first as a heavy mass came down on top of him. Reflexes and adrenaline kicked in. His heart pounded, blood rushing in his ears, as he flailed and kicked, tried a roll, but the guy on top of him was unmovable.

"Hey–" Something hard and metal that felt like fingers shoved his face into the mattress. He couldn't breathe, couldn't cry out. He bucked, struggled…

"Quiet," the voice hissed.

Jesus! He swallowed and went still and quiet. Either he was about to be murdered or raped or….what kind of sicko…?

The pressure on his head eased and he sucked in air, panting, and worked to steady his breathing. "What do you want?" He tried to twist his head to get a look at the guy, but the metal fingers returned, pressing his head forward in warning. "Okay! Okay! I'm not doing anything."

At least not yet. As soon as he had an opening…If he got an opening. God, how would Sarah and his mother take the news of his death? How messed up was it that he survived countless hairy combat situations only to be snuffed out in his own apartment by a stranger.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the voice hissed in his ear.

"Sure, okay, I believe you." Not. "So, what do you want?"

"Sam Wilson, EXO-7 Falcon project?"

"What? Who the hell are you?" The hand pressed harder into the back of his head. "If I say 'Yes' are you gonna kill me?"

"No."

He took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. What was this about? He was supposed to be done with dangerous situations, but it looks like something from his past was coming back to haunt him. He wished he knew what the hell it was.

"That's me. Yeah."

The weight on top of him lifted, and he scrambled to his feet, throwing a roundhouse kick and ending up flat on his back looking up into one hell of a creepy guy with long, dark hair and a fucking metal arm.

"Don't," the stranger warned.

Sam raised his hands. "Fine, okay, you're more badass than I am. I get it. What the hell do you want?" He squinted up at the guy. That face looked awfully familiar.

Holy shit!

No, it couldn't be, obviously, but damn that was one hell of a resemblance. He lived close enough to have toured the Smithsonian exhibit a few times, the last time when Sarah visited. "Anyone ever tell you're the spitting image of Bucky Barnes?"

The man's eyes went blank and he took a step back. Sam thought of trying another move, but decided he didn't stand a chance. The guy hadn't seriously hurt him yet. Best to play it cool until he figured out what the intruder wanted.

With a shake of his head, the intruder gave a grunt. "Get up. Sit on the bed. Don't try anything."

Sam eased himself up and did as he was told. He really wanted pants.

"You're not Hydra," the intruder stated.

"Whatever that means."

"Hydra has identified you as a target."

"A what?" Who or what the hell was Hydra, and who was this guy? "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're designated as a potential threat to Hydra and targeted for elimination."

Elimination? His stomach dropped. "You mean death?"

First the guy says he means no harm, then he threatens death. "You're going to kill me?"

"No. Hydra will kill you," the stranger tilted his head, "unless we stop them first. I need assistance."

"You want me to help you go after something called Hydra?" What the hell was going on and… "Why me?"

"You are not Hydra. You are a threat to Hydra. You have extensive combat experience and familiarity with sophisticated military equipment, and you are within the required geographic range."

"Okay." Well, that explained…not much. Not much at all. "Can you be a bit more specific?"

"You are familiar with the Avengers initiative?"

"The Avengers? Yeah. Captain America, Iron Man and…" Oh, hell no. Some guy looking like the famous best friend of Captain America shows up on his doorstep and starts talking about…the Avengers, which happen to be led by Captain America.

The morning after Captain America and Iron Man happen to go missing.

That shit was too much of a coincidence.

"Look, I'm just going to ask you this, and I know it's crazy, but you aren't actually Bucky Barnes, right? Because he died in World War II."

The metal hand whipped out, clamped around his throat, squeezing until he saw spots. "Shut up!"

Then just as suddenly, it released, and the intruder stumbled backward, eyes wide and…shit…was the guy about to tear up?

Sam relished the rush of air into his lungs. Oh, yeah, the guy was definitely Bucky Barnes, and deeply messed up. No one gave that kind of reaction to something that wasn't associated with trauma.

But holy shit, how the hell was Bucky Barnes alive and in his house? He was about to ask Barnes, who looked like he was on the verge of a psychotic break, if he wanted to sit down and take a moment, but then like some cyborg Jekyll-and-Hyde, Barnes' gaze went hard and his whole body rigid.

"I don't want to hurt you," the man said. "I need your assistance to infiltrate a Hydra base where the Avengers are being held. Time is of the essence. Yes or no?"

Sam rubbed his throat and made a mental note to avoid referencing the man's identity. "You want my help to rescue Captain America and Iron Man?"

The man nodded. "There may be other prisoners. Potentially Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff."

"Captain America needs my help." He nodded. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but Bucky Barnes was two feet away in the flesh—even if the man was unstable—and Captain America needed him. He sure as hell wasn't going to say no. "Count me in, so long as you keep your hands off me, man."

Barnes nodded. "Get dressed."

"Wasn't planning on going naked."

-0- -0- -0-

Bruce fidgeted in the driver's seat. He didn't like the idea of Barnes going off to do who-knows-what, but the guy was pretty insistent he stay behind, so rather than risk the Big Guy making an appearance, he played along. Besides, Barnes had been out in the wild for over a day now. Hopefully, he hadn't racked up a body count in that time.

Barnes and another man exited a house half a block up. Bruce leaned forward. Who was that and how the hell did Barnes know him?

A moment later, the stranger was in the back seat, and Barnes slid into the passenger seat. "Where to now?"

"Hey, I'm Sam Wilson," the man extended his hand between the seats. "It's great to meet you Dr. Banner. So, we're really rescuing Tony Stark and Captain America?"

Banner twisted around in his seat and shook the man's hand. "Uh, yeah, apparently we are." He glanced at Barnes. "So, what's this plan of yours?"

"We've got to make a stop," Wilson said. "He thinks he can break into a secure facility and steal something we'll need."

Bruce sighed and leaned back in his chair. He felt a headache coming on. "I'm sure he can." He started the car. "Shouldn't we call Fury–"

"No." A muscle in Barnes' jaw twitched. "Hydra is SHIELD."

"Yeah, it's beginning to look that way," Bruce sighed. "So, where to?"

"Fort Meade. Then Wheaton, New Jersey."

-0- -0- -0-

He began to regret recruiting Sam Wilson. The man asked questions almost non-stop. Who was Hydra? Why had they kidnapped Avengers? What was with the red star on the metal arm? When Wilson wasn't asking questions, he prattled irritatingly about things not relevant to the mission. Banner, to his credit, was more reserved, but he nevertheless encouraged the conversation by making affirming sounds and even going so far as to answer questions.

They needed to focus on the mission. Too much was at stake, and there were too many unknowns. He mentally reviewed the cache of weapons stored in the trunk of the vehicle. He had as many as he could fit on his body. Three firearms, one outfitted with a grenade launcher, three knives, two grenades, and one grappling hook.

Wilson's wings were also in the back, though they had not had time to test their functionality after removing them from storage. That was unfortunate. If the wings failed, their odds of success diminished.

And the odds were already against them.

He eyed the upcoming curve in the road near heavy brush and pointed. "Here."

Banner glanced at him. "Pull over?"

He nodded.

"Are we here?" Sam asked. "I don't see anything. Looks like the middle of nowhere. You sure about this?"

He turned to look at the man, and the look was sufficient to gain a few moments of silence. "The base will be heavily guarded. We cannot approach undetected by car."

"We're hoofing it? How far?" Sam asked, tilting his head up at the sky outside the window. "It looks like rain."

More questions and irrelevant commentary.

"One mile," he answered. "Once I infiltrate, you will provide distraction fire from the air. Draw personnel outside."

"Okay, got it." Sam nodded.

"And me?" Bruce asked.

He looked at the scientist. He did not like scientists, but Dr. Banner acted nothing like the Hydra scientists. He was calm, quiet, and never once, during the entire journey in the confines of the vehicle, tried to touch him. "You will keep watch. If the mission requires the other one…"

"Got it," Banner sighed, his face pinched as though he felt ill. "Let's hope there's not a Code Green."