The Winter Soldier put his hot chocolate down on the table without taking even a sip. The man at his six was military and had been unobtrusively observing him through the large front windows of the café. Unfortunately, not unobtrusively enough. The target looked familiar to him but his memory was so unreliable for all he knew the man could be one of his ex-handlers. A small unpleasant smile touched his lips. He'd once punched a hole straight through one of his handler's chest. He wouldn't mind doing it again.
Something occurred to him and he swallowed a lump in his throat. What if he was a Controller? Handlers could be any of the people that dealt with him on a daily basis but their authority over him was always very limited. His Controller, however, had power absolute. What if that's why they were here? The Asset's heart revved up. After Pierce died, the control device he wore would have been passed to another. How could he have not considered that? That person would need only to imprint himself as his new Controller and he would have no choice but to obey. No choice. He would hear the tones that burned into his mind and he would see the calming light then every bit of his new found self-will would dissolve. He would dissolve. This new self would be taken away from him. He looked at the now tepid cup of chocolate. Before he even got the chance to explore what it all meant. They would take it away. Like hell.
The Asset's eyes turned colder than the Arctic Sea. His gaze swept the room in a heartbeat and assessed possibilities. This was going to get messy. It would alert authorities and thereby alert Hydra to where he was. Even if he escaped from here, they would most likely run him down. He had nowhere to go. He looked over at the target. He wasn't going back. There were only two choices left to him, freedom or death. He'd made his peace with that already.
He turned slightly to the right, away from the man watching him. He wrapped his hand around the Glock in his pocket. Unconsciously, he flexed his left arm, the bands of Vibranium shifting and settling with a soft clinking whir. A woman near him looked up from her phone curiously but immediately went back to texting.
The door to the café opened and a woman wearing a deep blue coat entered. She had a scarf wrapped high around her neck concealing the lower part of her face much like his muzzle did and her hands were deep in her pockets. She walked straight to the counter without looking around. She walked like a predator and he should know. They were closing in on him.
His eyes narrowed. The full auto machine pistol was strapped against his lower back where he could reach around and grab it. The coat he wore would only slow its access by a few seconds. The woman had walked to the other end of the counter. They were flanking him. His eyes darted around the room waiting for the opportunity.
The door opened again and a tall lanky black man entered. Now that man he remembered. He was at the battle on the Potomac. …But he hadn't been Hydra. He'd been helping the other one. The one that kept calling him a name, a name he didn't want to know. The one that had called him, "friend". He had pulled that one, Captain America from the frigid waters. He wasn't even sure why. The things he'd seen at the museum didn't make much sense either. He wasn't that man. He'd never laughed once in his whole life. Obviously, Rogers had made a mistake. Now they were going to try and fix that mistake. Too bad for them.
There was a small pop, splat, followed by the loud, fast, scraping of a stool against the floor as one of the patron's dropped their cup of presumably hot liquid. It was just the distraction that he needed.
The Winter Soldier pulled his gun and pushed off from the table ledge. He was half way to the door before the woman even yelled to sound the alarm. The man sitting at the table turned and dove. Not fast enough. He put two slugs in the center of his chest and never stopped moving. He barreled into the door and it exploded outward with the force. Pieces of wood and glass flew like shrapnel. It wasn't Hydra. Still he didn't slow down. He might actually have a way out of this after all.
He headed towards the bridge that led out of town. If he could reach the woods, he was as good as gone. He could survive the cold, dig in and hide. He just needed the cover of the trees. Moving faster than any human or animal could match, his legs pistoned. His mind racing nearly as fast, he was forgetting something. He glanced over his shoulder. Where was the soldier?
Something barreled into him like a freight train.
o-x-o-x-o-x-o-x-o
Natasha yelled too late. In the few seconds that her eyes had cut to the other side of the room, her target was almost to the door. He was scarily fast. She ran forward to get a clear shot with the stun gun just as she saw his gun come up. She could see Wilson from the corner of her eye grabbing people and literally throwing them to the ground out of the line of fire. She was too slow… and so was Barton. She saw him take the impact right in the chest.
She ran straight up to where he lay, "Oh god, please, please, please." She grabbed him, rolled him over, and tore open his shirt. There were two high powered slugs, half inch apart right over his heart… They were flattened against the Kevlar. "Thank God," she breathed.
Barton moaned, "Fucking high powered ammo. Hurts something awful."
Nat smiled, "Just be glad you got the upgraded vest. That shit could have done some real damage." She looked around at the people shouting and crying, huddled on the floor. Steve needed to see reason about her solution to their assassin problem. This couldn't happen again.
"I'm just glad he didn't aim for my head."
Sam knelt down, "We need to get out of here… right now." He grabbed Barton by the arm and pulled him up. "You mobile?"
"Yeah, I'm good enough. Let's get out of here."
Natasha looked at Sam. "You need to talk to him again. He needs to take the solution I offered." They quickly pulled Barton through the doorless doorway towards a car parked half a block down. "He's not going to come quietly."
"You're preaching to the choir, sister," Sam agreed. "I've been telling him this ain't gonna end well. Steve isn't exactly flexible when it comes to Barnes. Let's hope this is the end of the line for the Winter Soldier."
Nat jumped into the driver's seat, "Let's get back to the plane and get him some air support."
o-x-o-x-o-x-o-x-o-x
The Asset was knocked off his feet going nearly forty miles an hour. The American would have to do better than that to stop him, he thought. As he skidded through the slush, he rolled with the momentum and came up, pulling his auto free. He was on his feet before he'd even come to a stop. He turned just in time to see Captain America's shield coming right at his chest. He threw his arm out to knock the shield to the side but it clipped his auto as it went, tearing the weapon from his grasp. He looked up and scowled.
This was the first time that he'd seen Bucky since the Potomac fight. The first time they'd gotten this close. The encounter wasn't turning out exactly as he'd hoped. In fact, it was turning into a nightmare. He'd heard the shots. Nat was quick to radio that everyone was good but that didn't change the fact that Bucky had just opened fire in a public place with no regard for life. In fact, with the intent to take lives.
After Bucky had spared him on the helicarrier, he'd hoped that he'd reached his friend. Then after the police found Russian military boot prints coming out of the water next to where they'd found him, he knew that Bucky had been the one to save him from drowning. He'd thought that it meant Bucky was recovering. He'd even been to the memorial at the museum. But then he took a moment and thought about it. Bucky was as close to him as any brother by blood could be but he'd spent seventy years as a prisoner of war, tortured and brainwashed. One fleeting moment of recognition wasn't about to wipe all that away. They were in for a long, hard road to recovery. So be it. You don't give up on family.
Steve looked his former best friend and confused enemy over. He looked tired and scared though most people would probably say he looked pissed off and scary. Steve raised his hands in surrender. It had worked before. "You know you don't have to fight me. I'm not here to hurt you." He looked quickly around, they needed to get out of here. "Listen, we need to get far away from here. Nat has the jet. Come with me. I'll take you somewhere safe."
The Winter Soldier cocked his head like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I'm good, thanks."
He took a few steps forward. He could see Bucky tense. "We don't have much time. Please. I'm your friend, Buck. I want to help you. I swear, I just want to take you somewhere to talk. Just you and me. No SHIELD, no Hydra, no police, no doctors." The doctors would come later. After he was sure his friend wouldn't kill them. "Whada ya say?"
Buck stepped toward him, shaking his head slowly. Steve was wary and set his stance in case the man tried to jump him. Bucky reached up and put his hand to his head, smoothing back his long hair. His hand drew down the back of his head to his neck. "I say, if you try to take me… you'll end up with a corpse. Yours or mine. It doesn't really matter which to me."
There was a click and Steve looked down at his hand. Grenade. Dear God, what else did he have in that coat? Steve dove sideways as the explosive left the Winter Soldier's hand. The man turned and was half way across the bridge when it detonated. Steve was on his feet, shield in hand, and in pursuit before the dust even settled.