Old Friends Chapter 8
By: Cadet Deming
I don't own the rights to Captain America or The Avengers, Marvel and Disney do, so please don't sue. Rated T for violence, language and adult situations. Thank you to the people who read and review.
Sam Wilson was exasperated. He tried to keep his voice down over the phone as he walked through the Pentagon parking lot to the Department of the Air Force Headquarters.
He said to Steve, "Why won't you give me details? I'm your wingman. I'm your wingman literally."
Steve said, "I think it would be disrespectful to Natasha to tell you exactly what happened last night."
"Can you give me a few hints? Are you still a 95 year old virgin?"
Steve got very quiet on the other end of the line. "Is this some kind of an 'Is it bigger or smaller than a breadbox' guessing game?"
"On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being platonic friend-zoned and 10 being full-blown sex, what number did you hit last night?"
He saw a little old lady in the parking lot staring at him. Sam turned in the opposite direction.
Steve sighed, "Your obsession with my private life is starting to get disturbing."
"I don't have a love life of my own, I gotta live vicariously through yours. And if Captain America can't get any, what hope is there for a guy like me?"
"It isn't about 'getting any.' Can't I be a romantic? It's not romantic or gentlemanly to talk about details."
Sam normally loved Steve's ironclad sense of right and wrong, but hated his curiosity being thwarted.
"How do you expect me to keep helping you if I don't know what's going on? Was it a one-night stand? Is she your girlfriend? Are you friends with benefits?"
"What's friends with benefits?"
"It's when two friends agree to sleep together on a regular or semi-regular basis with no commitment, dating, or emotional involvement."
The line was silent until Steve said, "Are the people who do that psychopaths? Because I just don't see the appeal."
"Wow, you really are a romantic."
"Is that so shocking?"
"From what I know about you, no. I've gotta go to that meeting about finding Bucky. I'd give you details, but that may not be gentlemanly."
"Get a love life of your own Sam."
Sam hung up and walked through the security checkpoints. He had to enter unarmed. Security at the Pentagon had always been strict, but it had gotten worse over the last few weeks. He questioned if being unarmed at any time while tracking down someone as dangerous as The Winter Soldier was safe.
He was escorted to the office of his contact, Captain Carol Danvers. She greeted him from behind her desk. She was a tall blonde with piercing blue eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a professional bun and she was dressed in an Air Force uniform with a skirt and short sleeves.
Her handshake was firm and direct. Sam noted her arms and legs were toned, but she had curves around her waist and hips. It was the figure of a woman who exercised regularly but ate or drank with an appetite. He started thinking of Steve's advice on getting a personal life.
Sam said, "Thanks for seeing me. I was hoping you could help out a fellow fly boy."
"I'll do what I can. I've only been in charge of Intelligence for the past few weeks since my boss turned out to be a sleeper HYDRA agent."
He noticed she had a slight Bostonian accent. A diploma from the U.S. Air Force Academy was displayed on her wall. The office was impeccable, without any sign of mess or even a paper out of place.
He said, "Yeah. It's scary how many there were, but at least the Air Force turned out to be the military branch with the least amount of spies. That's gotta make you feel good, right?"
She gave a wry half-grin, "To a point, but there's the theory that the Air Force is such a joke our enemies thought we were the least worth infiltrating."
Sam grinned. "Never underestimate the power of being underestimated. At least we ain't the Coast Guard. So why'd you join?"
She smiled completely. "As long as I can remember, I always wanted to fly. There's nothing else like it on Earth. Being in the sky is like perfect happiness."
He leaned back in his seat and waxed poetically. "Me too. When other kids my age were obsessed with dinosaurs or wanted a dog or cat, I was into birds. The way they can soar over everything without a care in the world and become part of the wind. The way they socialize so perfectly they can fly in formation for the winter. We try to think of people as at the top of the food chain, but to me a bird is at the top of evolution, you know. Nothing is more perfect."
She brushed her bangs away. "I'm more of a cat person myself. With flying, for me it's more about being inside of a rocket or jet plane, using the latest technology, going harder, higher, faster, more. That kind of thing."
"You should have tried pararescue like me. We had experimental flight suits that put us into the air directly. It was almost better than…"
He was going to say "better than sex" but Carol seemed too professional.
He finished, "It was better than parachuting."
"It all depends on where you're parachuting to. How can I help you?"
Sam handed her the file on Bucky Barnes. She read through it with raised eyebrows.
She said, "The Winter Soldier. I read about him. He's the one who assassinated President Kennedy."
"And Tony Stark's parents and a few hundred other people."
"And you want my help to kill him?"
He wondered if Carol had killed anyone before. Sam had been forced to during the wars, and he hated it. He didn't want to kill anyone if he didn't have to.
He said, "Captain America and I are trying to save him. Steve Rogers thinks he was brainwashed."
She put the file down. "I can share intelligence with you to help, but have you thought things through on what will happen if you do catch him? He'll have to stand trial. The families of his victims will want justice. Brainwashing is very shady of a defense, especially to someone whose loved one was murdered. I'm Irish Catholic and from Massachusetts, half of my family would want to take a shot at him for killing Kennedy alone."
Sam asked, "Would you take a shot at him?"
She bit her lip for a moment. "No, unless it was self-defense. I follow the law. I just want to give you warning on what could go wrong. I do have information exchanges with the CIA, NSA and other armed forces. There is still facial recognition technology through satellites, but after Natasha Romanoff posted that people were being spied on, a congressman sponsored a bill to outlaw it. It's working its way through Congress now."
"So we gotta act fast then."
"Assuming Winter Soldier is still alive."
Sam wondered if he was getting in over his head. "When I faced Bucky, he seemed like the Terminator. I can't see him going down so easy."
"Pray you don't have to take him down hard then. I can't believe the Winter Soldier's name is Bucky. How non-intimidating is "Bucky?" It's like naming a Hurricane Wilma. It just doesn't fit with the path of destruction he left."
"Names are funny. I think codenames fit people better. Your codename you earn."
"What was your call sign?"
"People call me Falcon. Cause I love the birds. And yours?"
"Ms. Marvel."
"Ms.? So are you married or not?"
"Single."
He tried to take Steve's advice and asked her, "So Ms. Carol, do you wanna have a drink with me sometime? I ain't in your chain of command so there shouldn't be a conflict."
Carol said with too much quickness, "No thank-you. I don't drink."
His heart sunk in his chest. "Sorry I asked. Never mind."
"I didn't mean…I just don't drink…anymore. But if you want to grab coffee, I'm free Thursday after work."
Sam brightened, "Coffee is good."
They shook hands and he left feeling much happier.
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The rain fell on Brock as he followed Eric to the address Trucker had given them. It felt cool on his skin, but didn't make the pain in his back go away. He was pretty sure he'd broken or cracked several bones.
Eric wasn't faring much better. He squeezed his shirt into his wound to stifle the bleeding, but it wasn't helping.
The address was on a farm in Virginia. It was isolated. He counted three silos and wondered if they harbored weapons inside of them.
They entered the barn, which was filled with mooing cows and hay. The smells of manure and wet hay almost made him gag. Brock was not a country boy at all.
The Grim Reaper knocked on a wooden panel with his scythe. It opened and revealed a metal intercom. He pressed it and said, "I'm looking for the Serpent Squad. Baron Strucker sent us."
A metallic voice answered, "What is the password?"
"Burn the world to save it."
The rain continued to beat on the roof. Brock sneezed. He was getting impatient.
The voice said, "We have received no word about your arrival."
Eric pressed the intercom button. "This is the Grim Reaper and Pierce's last surviving lieutenant. We're both injured and need help."
Instinct prickled Brock's skin. He looked around the barn. There were a million hiding places for someone to sneak up on them.
He pulled Eric's hand off of the intercom and whispered, "Maybe you shouldn't broadcast how helpless we are until we see how friendly they turn out to be."
Eric frowned and pressed the intercom again. "If you don't let us in, I'm going to tell Strucker directly and you'll have to answer to him."
Brock heard the cocking of a dozen guns. A group of 12 people had surrounded them. They were all clad in black and wore masks. A woman stepped forward with her gun pointed directly at Brock's head.
She said, "I am Madam Hydra and I have heard nothing from Strucker about your arrival. Put your hands on your heads and get on your knees now."
To be continued
Author's note: I will get back to Steve and Natasha, I just wanted to give Sam a little character development. Carol Danvers and Madam Hydra are both major Marvel comic characters.