A Friend ch 3

A/N—I used Google to do basic research on the ranks of the characters here and I assume just because you're a girl, they don't say Airwoman but Airman as the rank is described. Don't mean to offend any military. Thank you for your service! And if you don't know how Riley is, there was a picture of him in CA:WS. He is Sam's deceased best friend from the F.A.L.C.O.N. program

"First Lieutenant Johnson, sir. A surprise to see you here, sir." The airman first class smartly saluted the rattled officer as he stood near the container, praying that no one heard the racket they just caused.

"Airman Ruiz, at ease." Rob commented and the young woman relaxed her salute.

"Can I help you, sir?" she pressed as he saw the look of curiosity in her eyes rise, probably wondering why he was there in his civilian clothes and at that hour of morning.

Hoping he was pulling off a sincere and genuine smile (Riley always said he had no poker face), he replied, "No. I'm fine. Just had to check a few things. You know… gut instinct. Especially after General Ross's recent work."

The young woman's brow furrowed thoughtfully, "Yes. I understand. Do you have anything we need to check?"

"I don't think so." Johnson lied. Suddenly there was a thump from inside the container. Rob held his breath as the young airman looked suspiciously at the container.

"What was that?" she wondered and scanned the barcode on the exterior. The reader displayed the content: resupply of basic first aide kits.

"Cargo shifting. I think I might have bumped this container some." Johnson mentioned, thinking madly how he was going to get out of this one. Ruiz looked at him questionably.

"RUIZ! Are you done yet?" came the bellowing voice of the Master Sergeant. Rob gripped the container tightly, thinking this could not get any worse.

"Sir! Yes sir. First Lieutenant Johnson is here." She called back, snapping to attention once again.

The Master Sergeant appeared and his size betrayed his voice; he was the same height as Ruiz. "Lieutenant." the man gave a crisp salute.

"At ease Sergeant Wu." Rob said, his voice tight.

"Can we help you? Is there something we need to reevaluate before our take off?" Wu asked gruffly, all business.

Can I be checked for insanity? How about lapse in judgement, he thought momentarily. Wilson is so going to owe me for this.

Rob again tried to plaster a friendly grin on his face to alleviate any concerns, "No. Not at all. Sometimes… sometimes, I get nostalgic for the 'old days', you know. It's been forever since … I've flown or prepped a mission." He then sobered his expression, "And, I just wanted to make sure that we're doing what General Ross has asked of us."

"Absolutely, sir. We've been over this cargo plenty of times." Wu said confidently, "You know we're all under high alert being that those…. Avengers…were declared Public Enemy, number one at Avenger Tower in NYC."

Ruiz added vehemently, "I just can't believe that Captain America would… would do that. Harboring a known terrorist? That guy is a murderer! It's like Cap betrayed all of us."

Trying not to be stunned by the hurt in her words, Rob took that moment to use his rank to gently usher the two airmen away from the cargo container. "Yeah. It is a shame. I'm sure he has his reasons. I still believe in him. Sometimes friendship makes you do some irrational things."

"Friendship? The Winter Soldier is his friend?" Wu commented tartly as they walked away, the container's security forgotten.

"Maybe." Rob replied trying not to let his cover slip thinking about Sam and Riley; Steve and Bucky, "I know I'd do some crazy things for mine."

Inside the sweltering container, Cap heard every word. The young airmen's tone cut him like a knife, "It's like Cap betrayed all of us."

Sam looked across the container in the flashlight that hallowed Steve's face in garish shadows aging him a hundred years. "She doesn't mean it like that." he whispered.

"Terrorist." The word sat in Rogers' mouth like ash as he looked down at the floor of the container at his unconscious friend, his silvery left arm pillowing his head, dark, unkempt hair flowing like blood over his cheek.

I'll clear your name, Buck. If it's the last thing I do, Steve thought angrily.