The Curse of Dr. Zola
Interlude
Bucky and Steve exited the ride they had just been on at Rockaway Beach. Steve was holding one hand over his stomach, while Bucky had a big smile on his face.
He clapped his hand on Steve's back. "That was a great ride, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, fun." The expression on Steve's face said otherwise.
Fresh from the exhilaration, Bucky felt like he could conquer the world! The sun was bright, the air just warm enough with just the right amount of breeze blowing. It was a perfect day!
He looked over at his friend. "Aw, Stevie, it wasn't that bad, was it?"
"No, not that bad." Steve lied to Bucky, but Bucky could see it in his face.
"Come on, let's find you a seat." Bucky led him over to an unoccupied bench so Steve could get a grip on himself. They sat down and made themselves comfortable. The benches weren't exactly designed for comfort, but it was their only option.
"It's a great day, isn't it?" Bucky beamed as he scanned their surroundings.
"Yeah, the weather is great."
"We picked a great day to come, yes, we did indeed." Bucky scooted forward a bit, and then leaned back. He stretched out his long legs, and tilted his head back to enjoy the warmth of the sun. He spread out his arms across the top of the bench and smiled.
Across the way, a red headed woman watched them.
She was tall; 5'7", with sparkling eyes that caught every nuance of Bucky's body language. She wore the bright red lipstick that was all the rage among young women in New York. She rubbed her lips together subconsciously, as she took in the sight of James Buchanan Barnes.
She'd received the dossier on him just a few weeks before and studied it. Since then she knew where he lived, worked and played. She knew who his friends were.
She watched as Bucky stood up, said something to his little friend and walked away.
When he got in line at the concession stand, she got up and sauntered her way behind him in line.
"Hot today, isn't it?"
Bucky turned. She smiled at him as she wiped at her brow.
He smiled back. "It's really nice."
She gave him a shy glance, another smile, and fidgeted on the balls of her feet.
It worked…
They struck up a conversation and Bucky spent extra cash buying her something cold to drink. She walked back with Bucky to meet Steve.
"Steve, this is Dolores. Dolores, meet my best friend, Steve."
Steve stood up quickly. "It's nice to meet you, Dolores."
"Hi Steve."
Needless to say, she spent the rest of the day hanging around with them and laughing.
It wasn't unusual for Bucky to meet girls so easily. He had charm, charisma and a swagger to his stride women found impossible to resist. He was also very handsome and girls were always flirting with him.
They wound their way to the games of skill, and Bucky spent an entire $3.00 trying to win a stuffed teddy bear for her. What he wouldn't do to impress a girl! Of course, she was ecstatic when he presented it to her. Her red, curly hair bobbed up and down as she bounced on her toes with glee.
Steve just rolled his eyes.
It was the price he paid for being friends with Bucky.
Chapter 4
Voices pricked at the edge of his consciousness. He had been dreaming about happier days, and didn't want to leave that dream.
"Sarge, hey Sarge, wake up."
"Barnes…James….Buchanan…"
"Yeah, yeah, we got all that already. Wake up Sarge."
Bucky opened his eyes a crack. "Huh?" His mouth was dry. He worked his jaw, but further sounds refused to come out. He tried to lick his lips, but there was no moisture to be had.
He felt someone pick up his head, and put a cup to his lips.
"Drink, Sarge."
Bucky needed no further encouragement, and drew water into his parched mouth, too fast. He coughed and spluttered, some of the water spilling back out of his mouth as he rolled over.
"Go easy Sarge. You've been out for hours." Someone pounded him on the back.
"W-where are we?" Bucky felt movement beneath him. He was still trying to get his eyes into focus.
"I don't know. We're being moved somewhere else."
We? It took Bucky's mind a few moments to process the thought. "W-who…?"
Bucky looked around. He saw several men present, none that he recognized tho.
"I don't know. Some Nazi dame came bustin' in and demanded some workers for some project she's got goin' on. She picked us, and you. What happened to you Sarge? Where'd they take you?"
Bucky's mind went back to try and remember, but it was all fuzzy. The transport truck hit a big pothole, and Bucky bounced off the floor and crashed back down on it, the water from the cup spilling all over him. He spluttered some more.
"Oh gosh, sorry Sarge."
Bucky heaved out a big sigh and tried rolling over again. The truck hit another pothole and Bucky lost his balance all over again.
"Just stay there until we get wherever we're…." He trailed off as the truck noticeably slowed down and came to a stop.
A couple of guards came around to the back of the truck, and unhitched the link that tethered the men to it.
A swing of the rifle and a yank on the chain indicated that they should disembark. Bucky was the last one down. A nudge to the first man in line with the end of the rifle barrel got the line moving.
They were led up and into a dilapidated looking warehouse. Inside was a different story. It was warm and cozy, and sitting on a high-backed chair like she was the Queen of England herself was a woman in Nazi uniform. She had arrived ahead of the transport truck by mere minutes.
She rose from it now to inspect the new arrivals.
The guard on the end commanded them to stand at attention, poking a couple of them with the barrel of his rifle. Bucky found out just how much it hurt after being poked in the back.
"It is alright, dis one has suffered much. Do not damage my new merchandise."
Merchandise? The thought ran thru every man's mind at the same time. They all turned to look at Bucky.
"Do you know why you are here? Hmmm….no? You are here because you serve a purpose, a purpose I will reveal in time. For now, be grateful. I detest that little weasel, he has no respect. I, on the other hand, take good care of my vorkers." She snapped her fingers twice. Some men came running. "See to it these men have access to clean vater, and clean clothes, down in ze lower level."
The men were escorted downstairs, but not before she stopped Bucky. "You. You don't know how lucky you are."
As the men dressed in clean clothes after showering, they all eyed Bucky.
"It seems you are her favorite."
"What? Why? Because she stopped me in line?"
"No. You didn't see the fuss she kicked up. She went all nuts when she found out you were missing from the group."
"What? She doesn't even know me."
"Maybe not, but then how could she?" The big man held out his hand to Bucky. "Corporal Timothy Dugan. You can call me Dum Dum." Bucky shook his hand quickly and finished tying his bootlaces.
The rest introduced themselves; Jim Morita, from Fresno, California. Pvt Montgomery Falsworth, from Great Britain. Pvt Gabriel Jones from NYC. Pvt Jacques Dernier from France.
"Sergeant James Barnes, Brooklyn. You can call me Bucky."
Before any more conversation could take place they were ushered out and back upstairs where a hot meal was waiting for them; Yankee pot roast, complete with chunks of carrots and potatoes.
While it wasn't French cuisine, the hungry men made short work of dishing out the food onto their plates. They were just about to dig in when the woman who was footing the bill strode in.
"I hope you left a seat for me."
Bucky jumped up and pulled out a chair. "Ma'am."
She flashed him a look that was part curiosity and part amusement. She paused a moment before settling in. "I hear the British have a curious phrase for you American soldiers; 'over-sexed, over-paid, and over here'. Iz dat true soldier? Are you?"
Bucky flashed his best 'I can get anything I want' smile at her. "Well, I wouldn't say all of that is true."
Her expression in return, did not change, as she studied him. "Hmmmm…" She reached for the nearest serving dish, and spooned some food onto a plate.
She studied them as they ate, watched their mannerisms, and movements, all the while saying nothing.
Bucky sat back finally full. "This is the best meal I've had since I left the States."
"It ought to be, you had three helpings!"
"Vhere did you depart from?" It was asked so casually that Bucky nearly forgot he was a prisoner.
"Well, that's a secret."
"I have it on good authority dat dere are two places dat ship out ze men for overseas on de eastern coast."
Conversation suddenly stopped, and the soldiers exchanged worrisome glances.
"Come now, if I vanted information I vould send my own man to discover it…." She paused before continuing in perfect American speech. "But then I could just go to Camp Shanks and see for myself."
Bucky's jaw dropped.
"You tink I am totally stupid?"
"Well….no…."
"I saved all of you from a life in dat hell. Johann does not speak for me. Yes, I do have my own plans, and yes, you all figure into zem, but one of you is critical to my plans. Tell me then, vhat you can…who here has de highest rank?"
The men all gulped down seemingly large ice cubes, and looked at each other. Bucky turned white as a ghost. The last time someone admitted to having the highest rank he was shot dead.
She noticed.
"Is it you den?"
Bucky swallowed another large lump in his throat. "Sergeant James Barnes."
"So, dey are all under your command now. Do you take responsibility for zem?"
"Technically, none of them are from my group…..and two aren't even from the States…"
"But you are all allies, are you not? Technically, zat would put you in command."
"I suppose….but…"
"And you would do anything to keep your men unharmed?"
Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but then he thought about it and closed his mouth up. What is she getting at?
"Does not ze commanding officer take responsibility for his men?"
"Technically, yes."
"Good. You all vork for me now. I vill give you ze instructions and you vill see to it zat zey are carried out."
"What is it that we're supposed to be doing? If I may ask."
"Whatever it takes to win ze war."
The men looked around at each other, none of them eager to win the war for Germany.
She snapped her fingers. "Escort them downstairs. I vill speak vith zem in ze morning.'
The men were escorted back downstairs to a small room with actual beds, and all on one level. At the far end was a tiny bathroom.
After the door was locked and they were alone, they started a discussion. The lights went out, but they continued the conversation in the dark for a short while.
"We should get some sleep; who knows what tomorrow will bring."