There's a gun in his hand, the metal is cold against his palms, but the air around him is colder. There's blood dripping in his eye but he ignores it. The wind lets out a howl, sending a gust of ice shards flying toward him. The waypoint is just up ahead. He only has one mission: seek and destroy. The Asset knows better than to question the mission so he trudges on, through mounds of snow and craigs of ice. The Asset knows, but doesn't care, that his target is a man with four children. He lives in a remote village, many kilometers from an established city. As The Asset draws nearer to his destination, the briney scent of the Bering Sea meets his acute senses. And then…. And then, there is warmth? This can't be right. The Asset is so far from anything warm. He hasn't seen a dwelling in days, a hot meal in weeks, and yet… he can feel it, spreading over him like flames lapping at his skin from a nearby fire… He shakes his head, regaining composure. His breath is hot against the leather mask shielding his face. That's what it is, he thinks, that's what's warm, it's just me, it's just me…
James?
The gunshot crackles through the air, echoing off the emptiness that surrounds the tiny wooden cabin. The air is acidic with the smell of gunpowder and burnt flesh. Mission complete. Target destroyed. He spots the wife cowering in the corner, shielding one of their children's eyes from the corpse on their rug. The Asset knows he should shoot them both, leave no loose ends, but he's completed his mission. His commands don't include tying up loose ends, so they will stay here and be forced to clean up the mess he's made.
James!?
He's back at his shelter. His guns are cleaned and put away. He stands, staring at himself in the reflection in the shattered glass window. The Asset has a sinking feeling in his chest, something is wrong. Has he failed a mission? No. Has he disappointed his leader? Also no. Nausea floods his gut. The Asset doesn't get nauseous. He hasn't eaten, he coughs up blood and bile. His body lurches forward, crying out as if in pain. The Asset feels no pain. There is noise, so much noise… And bright lights. He lets out another animalistic cry and sinks to his knees. His hands grasping at his hair, clamoring to cover his ears, block out the screams, the sirens, the noise… There is so much noise, and then silence.
…Bucky?
He blinks away the tears, eyes wide and fearful. This is new, The Asset does not feel fear. He blinks again, eyes opening to see long dark curls, a smile. There are more tears, but they aren't his. The Asset closes his eyes, and sinks into the darkness…
Current Threat Level: unknown