Leg Up
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"I found it!"
Bucky's shout brought the rest of the Commandos running. They'd been scouring the deserted Hydra base with increasing desperation for the last twenty minutes. It wasn't one of the huge warehouses like the others they'd taken down - this one was deep underground, directly beneath a small village.
They'd thought the mission had been successful. All the Hydra operatives had been flushed out, although few prisoners had been taken. It was hard to physically keep a man from biting down on a cyanide pill - Agent Carter had nearly got her fingers bitten off, trying.
Then Dernier had approached the captain, waving a fistful of diagrams, completely incoherent in his distress. It had taken both Gabe Jones and Montgomery Falsworth to puzzle out what he was trying to say, but when they did, Gabe turned a ghastly face toward the captain.
"They got the place rigged," he explained, gesturing to the papers Dernier was wildly brandishing. "And somebody pushed the button when we got here. We got maybe a half hour before it goes off."
Steve's mouth went dry. "How big?" he asked, though something in his gut told him he wouldn't like the answer.
It was Monty who answered. "Large enough," he said grimly. "We need to start evacuating the civilians."
Colonel Phillips and the rest of the small force they'd been working with had stayed on the surface, trying to evacuate the residents while the Commandos tore through the base, overturning tables and chairs, sweeping maps off the walls, hunting feverishly for the explosives.
"Explosives'll be in a bunch of places," Jones explained, translating Dernier's rapid-fire French even as they turned the guardroom inside out, "but there'll be some kind of timer, some kind of initial detonator. If we can get to that, Jacques can disarm the whole thing."
They almost hadn't found it. Time was getting perilously short, and Steve had been at the point of ordering them to clear the area, when Bucky's cry brought them all running towards the back of the base.
He was at a door, holding it open with his foot when they arrived. "Up there," he nodded, pointing upwards with his chin. "Please tell me that's what we're looking for."
"Please tell me somebody can fly," Dugan echoed, looking up. They seemed to be in some sort of narrow chimney that led to the surface, hundreds of feet above their heads. A charge planted here would not only take out the subterranean base, but would also sweep upward and cause even more damage to the tiny village above.
Well above their heads, a small niche was cut into the side of the shaft, and every man present could easily see the blink of a red light, slowly counting down. Steve aimed a calculating eye at it before taking two quick steps in the small space and jumping. For the briefest of moments, his eyes were on a level with the box - but there was nothing on the smooth wall for him to get a handhold on, and he slipped back to the floor, landing on his feet.
"That's it, all right," he nodded to Dernier. "Looks just like the diagram in those papers. We got about six minutes left on the timer."
Dernier gestured hopelessly, looking up at the tiny niche, so far out of his reach. Steve turned, mouth opening to ask his men to find a ladder, but Morita forestalled him.
"I haven't seen one anywhere," he pointed out. "Maybe we could carry a desk out here, turn it on end?"
Steve shook his head, face tight as he looked up at the blinking light. "Won't be tall enough." He turned, dropping into a crouch, back against the wall, and held out his hands. "Here, Dernier. I'll lift you. You should be able to reach - just keep your knees straight."
Jones began to translate, but it was apparent that Dernier had understood the captain's meaning, if not the actual words. Swallowing hard, the little man nodded and stepped forward.
Two precious minutes later, it became painfully apparent that this wasn't going to work. When it came to handling explosives or counting down time, Dernier had the steadiest nerves in the business. But standing on another man's hands and being lifted into the air was another matter entirely.
"Stand straight," Dugan helpfully bellowed, going on the theory that volume would make up for his lack of French. "Don't touch the wall, man - just stand straight. He won't drop you."
Gabe slapped at him. "Shuddup. Dernier, tu veux m'écouter, oui?"
Dernier wasn't listening to either of them. He was sweating bullets, knees wobbling all over the place as he looked earnestly up at the blinking timer, still out of reach.
Beneath him, Steve was struggling. He had lifted experienced showgirls with ease, hefted inanimate equipment without a thought, but this was new to Dernier. The soles of the little man's muddy boots were planted securely in his palms, but every time Steve tried to lift the Frenchman higher than his shoulders, Dernier's knees began to liquify and he spasmodically reached out for the wall, throwing off the balance of the lift. Twice, Steve had very nearly dropped his friend, which only made things worse.
"This isn't gonna work," he admitted at last, lowering Dernier's feet to the floor and wincing at the iron grasp the man had on his hair. "Get everyone out. I'll jump up, try to pull it out of the wall."
Dernier paled further, shaking his head. "Non, non, I can do, can do. Once more," he insisted. His spirit was admirable, but time was ticking. Steve wavered, tipping his head back to look up at the small device.
Behind him, he heard bodies shifting, and then a sigh.
"Right," said Agent Carter. "I think you'd better let me try. Excusez-moi, mon ami."
Steve turned. Peggy Carter stepped toward him. Dernier huffed a relieved breath and shucked off his jacket, offering it to her. She slipped it on, hands patting the pockets for a moment, feeling for the tools the Frenchman always carried with him. Then she turned to face the captain.
"Well?" she asked.
He swallowed. There was no time for hesitation. If all this went wrong, it would blow up in her face. "Okay," he started. "Hands on my shoulders, then stand as I lift. Arms out to the sides for balance."
Peggy nodded, all business as she laid both hands on his shoulders. The touch of her palms tingled straight through the thick material of his uniform. Lifting one foot, she settled it into his hand and shifted her weight onto it preparatory to lifting her other foot.
Then she paused. "Oh, and Captain?"
He looked up at her, briefly arrested by the dancing sparkle in her eyes. She never looked so alive as when she was in danger.
"Yes?" he managed, acutely aware of the steadily decreasing timer.
"Eyes front," she ordered sternly - and that was when he realized she wasn't in her combat gear. He gulped, looking down at the mud-stained skirt of her WAC uniform, and then nodded resolutely.
"Got it," he replied.
She went up easily, arms held lightly out to her sides, already intent on the job at hand. Steve lifted her feet as high as his chest, paused to adjust his grip, and then hoisted her higher until his arms were straight.
"You see it?" he asked, and felt her nod straight through the soles of her shoes.
"I see it," she called back down. "Just a little closer, if you will."
Steve edged closer to the wall, but it was hard to gauge the distance without looking up, so he bit the bullet and threw his head and shoulders well back, raising his eyes and fixing them on her face, careful not to let his gaze wander incautiously. His mother had raised him better than that.
Peggy said something else then, but it was in French. From what he could catch, it seemed to be a running commentary as she worked, directed at Dernier who stood by nodding sagely and calling up the occasional comment of his own. Once, Peggy dropped a small wrench and narrowly missed clocking the captain between the eyes. Dugan tossed it back up with a right good will, and Steve just hung on to her feet and focused on keeping her steady. He thought about ordering the fellows out, just in case it went off after all, but there didn't seem to be much point. They were deep inside the base, and by this time even the fastest runner wouldn't be able to clear of the blast range out in time.
There were thirty seconds left on Steve's internal timer when something else fell - a tangle of seemingly innocuous wires. They clipped the captain's shoulder on the way down, and then he saw her intent face smooth, relax. She dusted off her hands and threw a proud little smile down at her companions.
"Well, that's that," she announced with deep satisfaction. The tension in the narrow room evaporated immediately. Dernier whipped off his hat and chucked it in the air with a high-pitched whoop, and the rest of the Commandos followed suit with a boisterous howl, in keeping with their name.
Amid the celebratory hubbub, the captain stepped sideways, bringing Peggy down and catching her neatly. It was automatic - he'd done it with so many showgirls that he didn't even think to warn her until she was in his arms, face suddenly close to his, dark eyes wide with surprise as she clutched reflexively at his shoulders.
He had held showgirls this way before - but this was somehow very different.
They stared at each other for a moment. Then Steve hurriedly set her on her feet and stepped back, apologizing awkwardly for startling her with the unexpected drop. He knew his ears were scarlet - he could feel it.
"Not at all, Captain," she assured him, seeming just a little uncharacteristically flustered despite her assurances. "You're - you make an excellent stepladder."
It was probably an opening to say something witty, but nothing occurred to him, so Steve just nodded and looked at her bright, beautiful eyes and slightly flushed cheeks. "You're not bad with explosives either," he finally managed, honestly.
Peggy took the compliment with a smile, before brushing herself off and surrendering her borrowed jacket to Dernier. Her cheeks remained a trifle more rosy than usual, but she seemed as composed as ever as she followed the rest of the Commandos out of the cramped little chimney and back into the base.
Steve, on the other hand, took three days before he could get the feeling of holding Peggy in his arms out of his head - and Bucky teased him incessantly the entire time.
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Well, there you have it, folks. Excuse any errors - it's been so long that I figured I owed you a little something regardless. The French is my best effort, which means it's probably not good at all, so if any of you actually speak the language, I'd honestly welcome correction. Thanks!
Tu veux m'écouter, oui?: Will you listen to me, yes?
Excusez-moi, mon ami: Excuse me, my friend.
Guest: Glad this made you smile. :)
ChildofGod: There's something about really good brother relationships that just absolutely melts my heart. And I know your review was left forever ago, but I'm super glad the last chapter gave you warm fuzzies! Also, your repeat pancake review - well, that just made me laugh. You gotta wonder what the actual soldiers thought when they were issued exploding flour.
LaughyTaffy: I have (figuratively) lived off that load of candy, and thank you for it very much. :) Thanks!
A Guest and Fan: Thank you! And yes, Clumsy Steve just makes my day somehow. Perhaps it's because I've been known to scatter writing utensils as well.