Just a few notes:
1. Thank you for the follows and favorites! They really do make my day. xo
2. I wouldn't classify myself as an espionage writer, so take those aspects with a grain of salt. I'm mostly going off actual communist politics/history and what I saw in MI-5/Spooks.
3. When dialogue is in a foreign language (e.g., Hungarian), the characters continue speaking in it, unless otherwise stated (e.g., "...she said, in accented English"). And the characters will always speak in their native language, unless otherwise stated.
4. For some reason, the link on my profile to Ilona's picture doesn't work. I have messaged staff about this but have yet to receive a reply. So here's the link (remove the parentheses when you c/p it): (h)ttp:/(a)rchiveofourown.(o)rg/(w)orks/(7)286125/(c)hapters/(1)6545529
Summary: Ilona discusses Bucky's future with Mariana, after which she divulges a secret to Bucky. Sort of.
Enjoy! :)
Chapter 4: Freedom?
I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know where I'm going. And I don't even know where I come from. -"I'm a Mess" The Rasmus
Ilona had barely walked through the doors of the HCSA headquarters on Práter Street when Mariana flagged her down.
"Na, végre megjelenik az elveszett ügynök," she said, leading Ilona to her office on the second floor.
She closed the door and sat down at her desk. Ilona remained standing, despite Mariana's invitation to take the seat opposite hers.
"Nem vesztem el," Ilona replied flatly.
"De nem is jelentkeztél tegnap este miután összefutottál a Tél Katonájával."
"I figured you would learn what happened when someone reported the building's ruined door to the police," Ilona said. "I wasn't exactly in the best shape to come in afterwards."
Mariana studied her with narrowed eyes, before she motioned for her to come closer.
"Mutasd."
Ilona unwrapped the scarf from around her neck, baring the black-and-blue, hand-shaped bruise to her superior. Mariana's features softened slightly as she gently touched the injury.
"Any more?"
"Just another bruise on my abdomen," Ilona said, twisting the scarf around her neck again. "That one hurts like a bitch, though."
Mariana watched the younger woman with an inscrutable expression. When she spoke, her tone was equally ambiguous.
"You didn't kill him."
"He's an enhanced assassin with a metal arm that nearly crushed my spleen," Ilona countered dryly. "You try to kill him."
"I distinctly remember telling you not to fail..."
"And I didn't," said Ilona. "I stopped him from assassinating Pozsgay, which, as I recall, was my mission."
Mariana's eyes flashed in warning. "Insubordination aside," she said, "yes, you completed your task, but then you let the Winter Soldier live. Where is he now, one of the safe houses?"
"Of course not," Ilona scoffed, "because then you'd send a hit team to finish him off. Or at least try to." She ignored her superior's exasperated sigh. "You read his file, too, Mariana. You know that he's been brainwashed by Hydra, that before he was recaptured, he was a good man who fought for the same thing we're fighting for. Freedom. After all he's endured, doesn't he deserve that?"
Mariana arched a thin brow, a corner of her mouth quirking in mild amusement. "You don't really expect me to sanction releasing a Hydra super soldier onto the streets of Budapest."
"Obviously not," Ilona replied, "but he's no longer under Hydra's or the Soviets' control. Whatever brainwashing they did on him was apparently nullified when I broke his nose." Mariana shot her a skeptical look. Ilona shrugged and continued with the necessary lie. "I'm just going off what those reports said about how blows to the head can affect the brain."
"That must have been quite the blow to break through decades of conditioning."
Ilona met Mariana's gaze. "Well, you know how much I like to kick men in the face." She smirked, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. "And in other places."
Mariana rolled her eyes. A shadow of a smile formed for half an instant, before she sobered.
"I know what you're asking of me," she said warily. "You want to turn the Winter Soldier."
"You can't deny that he would be an incredible asset to the HCSA," Ilona pointed out. "His training alone would give us an edge over the Soviets, not to mention that cybernetic arm."
"It's not a bad idea in theory," Mariana mused, "except that we would be revealing to Hydra and the Soviets just how much we know about their operations."
Ilona scowled in disgust. "So this is going to be another Coventry? We turn a blind eye to the victim for the sake of intel? We let Hydra have Barnes after he failed to kill his target?" Ilona crossed her arms over her chest, her scowl transforming into a frown. "You read his file. You know what they'll do to him."
"Hydra will put him on ice regardless of his success or failure here," Mariana replied, with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"Yes," agreed Ilona, "but if they know he failed his mission, they'll torture him first and then wipe his memory. At least let them believe he succeeded."
"And what do you suggest I do, let him go to town on Pozsgay?" Mariana asked sarcastically.
"No," said Ilona. "Barnes wouldn't kill him now anyway. I'm suggesting we let the Soviets think he killed Pozsgay. We fake his death and announce it to the media, while he continues to work under the radar."
"He can't be MP in secret."
"Yes, he can," Ilona insisted. "In all but name."
"Maybe, but what about his daily life? You're asking him to give up everything and become a ghost, all because you grew attached to a broken soldier."
Ignoring her superior's dig, Ilona forced herself to remain calm. "Look at it this way: If Pozsgay remains in the spotlight, the Soviets will just send more assassins. And if they're super soldiers, like Barnes, then our agents don't stand a chance."
"You managed somehow."
"Barely," said Ilona. "I got lucky. But we can't rely on luck. The Winter Soldier was faster and stronger than anyone I'd ever met. He dodged my bullets and ripped a two-and-a-half-meter-tall door from its hinges."
Mariana was silent, studying Ilona long enough to make the agent uneasy. Then, with a sigh, she asked, "Do you really think faking Pozsgay's death will work?"
Ilona shrugged. "There's only one way to find out."
"Very well. I will take it under advisement," Mariana relented. She rolled her eyes as Ilona smirked. "Now go clean up the mess you made."
#
Bucky was nowhere in sight when Ilona returned to the safe house. His boots were still by the door, so he obviously hadn't left. She breathed a sigh of relief. She'd half-expected him to be gone by the time she got back. The mug and dish in the drying rack showed he had eaten, but the rest of the house was untouched.
Pouring herself a glass of Riesling, she climbed the stairs to the second floor and was startled to find Bucky on the balcony, his muscular frame rigid and tall. She deliberately made more noise than she normally would have, and he tensed. For a split-second, Ilona thought he might have reverted back to the Winter Soldier, but then he relaxed.
She opened the door and stepped out beside him.
"Where are we?" he asked.
Ilona didn't respond right away, her sharp eyes scanning the barren landscape and snow-covered houses. She debated the wisdom of divulging too much information to a man who, until yesterday, had been in thrall to Soviet-sponsored Hydra. He had nearly killed her twice. It was only due to a miracle and her mutation that she hadn't died of internal bleeding or strangulation.
Yet, glancing at Barnes, at his sad eyes, Ilona instinctively trusted him. He was as much a victim as her own people were-perhaps even more so, because he was forced to commit horrors under the semblance of making the world a better place. Her hatred of the Nazis and Soviets now included Hydra, as well.
"We're in Törökbálint," she said finally. He looked at her, surprise evident on his face. She gave him a tight smile. "You trusted me last night, so now I'm returning the favor."
"Yeah, but you don't stand a chance if I suddenly try to kill you again."
Ilona took a sip of her wine. "I stopped you once, didn't I?"
"True," he acknowledged, his brows furrowing as he tried to recall the events from last night. "I had this around your neck," he said, glaring down at his metal hand. "You put your palm on my cheek, and then it felt like someone had doused me with a bucket of warm water." Bucky looked at her again and gave her a pained smile. "I especially remember that last sensation, because it's the polar opposite of how I feel when Hydra puts me into cryosleep."
"Who ordered you to assassinate Pozsgay?"
Bucky snorted. "Hydra, of course," he said. "But the order came from the top of Soviet command, from a man named Yuri Andropov."
Her brows raised. "Andropov's the leader of the Soviet Union."
"Yeah, funny how I know that but not my own mother's name," he spat, with a bitter laugh. "He was there when I came out of cryosleep, inspecting me as if I was a horse at auction."
"More like a slave at auction," she muttered. Ilona briefly met his curious eyes, before she drank the rest of her wine. "Andropov was also the one who convinced Khrushchev to crush Hungary's uprising in 1956. As a result, we fondly call him the 'Butcher of Budapest'."
"I remember that," he whispered, but Ilona knew what he really meant was I was here for that.
From Hydra's file on Bucky, she'd learned that the Winter Soldier was responsible for the death of one of the uprising's key leaders. She bore him no ill will, though, because the revolution would have failed anyway. It had failed before it had even begun, due to lies and betrayal.
"And what," she began, hesitating, "do you remember of your past?"
A shadow crossed his face that made his brows look dark and heavy.
"Pain. Death."
"No, I meant of your past," said Ilona, "not the Winter Soldier's."
"Nothing." Then he frowned and stared up at the gray sky as snow flurries began to fall. "I'm sorry. I'm grateful for what you've done, helping me like this. I don't know what you did last night, but I'm grateful."
Ilona shifted from one foot to the other, a chill creeping into her bones. Bucky, however, seemed content to watch the balcony's railing slowly become covered in snow. The super soldier serum had made him immune to the cold, as well as to infection and most illnesses, but she nevertheless touched his back and motioned towards the door.
"It's freezing. I'll explain everything inside."
He followed her downstairs and sat on the couch, watching her patiently as she perched cross-legged on the neighboring chair. Setting her empty wine glass on the coffee table, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Do you know who you are?"
"James Buchanan Barnes," he answered mechanically, "but everyone called me Bucky. I'm American, and I think I was a soldier."
Her lips pursed. He merely parroted back to her what she'd told him yesterday.
"That's right," she affirmed, "but there's a lot more to you than that." She handed him a copy of the dossier from Hydra's Leipzig facility. The original was a mashup of German and Russian, but, anticipating this moment, Ilona had translated the German to English.
The more of his file Bucky read, the more agitated he became. His metal hand formed a fist, the plates shifting as they adjusted to the increased pressure on his fingers. Finally, after fifteen minutes of silence, Bucky placed the folder on the table and met Ilona's gaze.
"I remember."
She slid forward in the chair, resting her elbows on her knees.
"How much?"
"Bits and pieces." He mimicked her posture, his glance flicking to the dossier. "I remember being captured in Italy during the war, along with my unit, and I remember the tests. They injected me with a blue serum that hurt like crazy, and then they left me alone, strapped to the exam table."
"So that was when you became the Winter Soldier?"
Bucky hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thought.
"I don't know," he said. "That was definitely when they made me into a super soldier, but things are hazy between then and the Wint-" he broke off, clenching his jaw, "my first mission."
"It's okay to separate yourself from him," Ilona said gently.
"Is it?" snapped Bucky. "These hands are both the Winter Soldier's and my own, and they're the ones that did the killing."
"Yes, but you were programmed to be the Winter Soldier," she insisted. "It says something about your character that Hydra had to brainwash you into committing those acts."
Bucky softened, but he didn't look convinced.
"Maybe," he relented and rested his forehead on his arms. Tilting his head to face her, he asked, "How did you break through Hydra's programming anyway?"
Ilona laughed. "I kneed you in the head, remember?"
"Yeah, you did," he agreed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Although his advanced healing had taken over, the bone was still sore. "But that's not when it happened. It happened when you touched my cheek."
She held his gaze, her expression inscrutable, but the subtle tensing of her body betrayed her discomfort. Most people would never have noticed it, but Bucky's senses were heightened. He arched an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.
Ilona sighed. "Have you ever heard of Mutants?"
"Uh, yes?"
"I don't mean dwarfism or disfigurements," she clarified. "I mean humans with extraordinary abilities, like yours, except these are innate."
Bucky stared at her, a mixture of astonishment and disbelief on his face.
"So you're a Mutant?" Ilona nodded. "And your special ability is to stop the effects of brainwashing?"
"Something like that," she hedged.
"Do your superiors know what you can do?"
Ilona averted her gaze. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because it's...personal," she replied.
"So you tell the brainwashed assassin that almost killed you?"
Her lips twitched. "Naturally."
Bucky slowly shook his head as a genuine laugh rose from his chest.
"You are somethin' else, you know that?"
"So people have told me," said Ilona. She allowed the humor to suffuse the room for another minute, before she sobered. "I tried to convince my superior to protect you, but she refused."
He nodded, disappointed but not surprised.
"I wouldn't protect me either."
"But," said Ilona, his sad and resigned tone pulling at her heart, "there may be a way for you to avoid a fallout with Hydra."
"And what's that?" he asked. "You hide me here indefinitely?"
She shrugged. "Maybe."
"Hydra won't just let me go," he pointed out. "In fact, I'm sure my handler is already wondering where I am. I can't stay here, no matter how much I would like to."
"I know," she said softly. "And that's why I have a plan that I think my superior will approve. But I can't tell you yet, because-"
"Because I could tell it to Hydra," Bucky interjected. Ilona didn't confirm or deny his assertion, but she didn't need to. Her eyes gave her away. "You're smart to be cautious. I would be, too, if I were in your shoes."
"You could run," she suggested, though she knew as well as he that it would be futile. Hydra would search for him and eventually find him.
"Not today," he said, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "But maybe someday. And if I still remember you, I'll come say hi."
And that was it. There was nothing more to be discussed. Bucky would return to Hydra, because if he didn't, the Soviets would suspect the truth and would punish Hungary. Ilona hated the injustice of it, hated that, despite all the HCSA's resources, she could not help Bucky. So she went to the market, cooked him a hearty Hungarian meal, and listened as he tried to put together the pieces of his broken memory.
That night, after reports of Imre Pozsgay's death hit the news, Ilona knocked on the door of the spare bedroom, with a blanket draped over her arm.
When Bucky saw what she was carrying, he arched an eyebrow.
"I don't need that. Super soldier, remember?"
"Humor me," she said, rolling her eyes. She draped the blanket over his form, but partway-through, Bucky's flesh hand gripped hers.
"I didn't kill Pozsgay."
"Well, someone did."
Bucky squeezed her hand, forcing her to look at him.
"Your reaction to the news was convincing," he said, "but I'm not stupid. If his death were real, you'd have been called in." He paused, waiting for her to say something. When she didn't, he continued. "You didn't come here to offer me a blanket you know I don't need."
Ilona shook her head and placed her palm on his cheek. He remained relaxed, allowing the contact and even pressing into it.
"There's more to your ability than you told me," he said. Ilona's eyes widened in the first hint of fear he'd seen since he had met her. He squeezed her hand again. "But you're clearly keeping it secret for a reason, so I won't ask. Just make it quick."
She nodded, swallowing thickly, and recited the words she had rehearsed.
"You are the Winter Soldier, not James Buchanan Barnes. You assassinated Imre Pozsgay on his way home from work at 22:52 on the twenty-third of January, 1983. You successfully completed your mission and returned to your handler, after taking refuge with a Hungarian Hydra agent named Ilona Szilágyi. You will not remember any of this until you are questioned by Hydra."
Once Ilona's palm left his cheek, Bucky blinked up at her, seemingly unchanged.
"What did you do?"
She gave him a sad smile. "I've ensured our safety."
The next morning, Bucky was gone. A note rested on the floor outside Ilona's bedroom door.
Ilona,
If we ever meet again and I've forgotten your kindness, just knee me in the face again.
JBB
Unbeknownst to either of them, that day would never come.
1. Na, végre megjelenik az elveszett ügynök is Hungarian for "So, the missing agent finally returns."
2. Nem vesztem el is Hungarian for "I wasn't lost."
3. De nem is jelentkeztél tegnap este miután összefutottál a Tél Katonájával is Hungarian for "But you didn't check-in last night after your run-in with the Winter Soldier either."
4. Mutasd is Hungarian for "Show me."
5. Törökbálint is a small town in Pest county on the Buda side (the hilly side) of Budapest.
6. Yuri Andropov was really who Ilona said he was. I obviously embellished with his connection to Hydra and Imre Pozsgay.