Chapter title is from Zayde Wolf's Holy Water.
Chapter Forty-Three: Holy Water
Day 8
The Volkswagen had been a risky but well-appreciated decision. Suzie spent most of the day driving after switching with Richard to let him rest while Bucky stretched out in the back bench seats to take a nap. How he managed to sleep all the time, Suzie didn't know, but she enjoyed the relative peace and quiet accompanied by the occasional snore from Richard and nonsensical mutterings from Bucky.
The Nazi uniforms provided by the German soldier allowed them to pass the single checkpoint uncontested. Bucky had woken up long enough to talk their way out of the questioning from the team of Germans standing guard on a road blockade. Bucky explained they were on their way to deliver some supplies, evidenced by the actual crates of supplies in the back of the vehicle. Once the soldiers let them pass, Bucky went back to sleep like he hadn't slept in months.
The wound on his side had completely faded, not even leaving a scar from where Suzie had pulled the stitches out a few days earlier. Bucky still didn't talk much unless prompted but appeared to be improving. For starters, he didn't take as long to reply and could form at least a few complete sentences before pausing to think.
Suzie would take any progress, no matter how small, even though Bucky's memory had not returned yet. Richard told her to be patient; head injuries took forever to heal and suffering a hit on the head hard enough to almost completely wipe Bucky's memory would take longer than his abdomen to return to normal.
His arm, too, improved. The once-dead skin flaking off from infection at the end of the stump looked better: fresher, pinker, healthier. Suzie could still see a bit of bone and sinewy muscle from where the wound hadn't completely scarred over, but it looked less like a bloody tunnel to hell than it had been a few days ago.
The Russians, despite obviously wanting Bucky alive, apparently didn't care much about his physical condition. It appeared they had kept him from barely tipping over the edge into the afterlife instead of treating him like an actual patient in dire need of medical assistance. The infection in his arm proved their lack of regard for such a severe injury.
Suzie wanted them to suffer.
Once she got Bucky home safe and sound, looked at by a real doctor, and far away from the Russians, she and Richard would track down the renegade faction and make them answer for their crimes. Because nobody who cared about someone would treat him like this; wouldn't keep a soldier presumed KIA hidden from his homeland.
Something sinister lurked in the shadows, too dark to see and far out of reach for Suzie to grasp. It mocked her, teasing her whenever she came up empty-handed on why the Russians kept Bucky a secret. Surely a member of Captain America's team would garner enough respect for an allied country to return him to the United States instead of keeping him locked up and away from civilization.
The mystery would have to wait for now. Reaching the safety of Allied borders remained the top priority; wracking the earth for answers would have to wait. Perhaps Agent Peggy Carter and the SSR would help. They needed help right now, and Suzie would take anything she could get.
Richard and Suzie switched driving positions one last time before stopping at the outskirts of a town. Suzie checked the map given to them by the friendly German man and confirmed that they had finally found Norden, Germany.
No hostiles around and safe from prying eyes, they hunkered down to wait for the sun to sink below the horizon, taking turns keeping watch while the others rested. At one point, Suzie attempted to start a small fire inside an empty can to cook a few of their rations. Even though the daylight hid the fire from view, she kept the cover of the Volkswagen up to obscure the small fire from anyone who might be nearby. She also moved the half-empty gas canister away from the fire, because a vehicle going up in flames near a town would draw unwanted attention.
The smell of cooking food roused both of the men from their naps. Bucky wolfed his share of rations down faster than Richard could sit up and clamber over the seats to snatch a can of corned beef away. Suzie had to act as a diplomat and split up the food so the men wouldn't argue over who deserved certain rations.
Warm food, German or not, tasted like heaven, and Suzie let each bite linger on her tongue as long as possible. Despite having eaten nothing but beans and beef for most of her time in the army, she welcomed the taste of something other than chewy ration bars and dry biscuits. It didn't beat Ma's homemade cooking, though; but right now it came at a close second.
Ma would've had a fit if she had seen what her babies were eating. She'd 'tsk' in annoyance and whirl right into the kitchen to whip up something much more worthy for her precious children to eat.
Tears pricked at Suzie's eyes. She'd never taste Ma's cooking again. Ma had a hearty stash of recipes stored tenderly in the kitchen cupboards; recipes she and Becca could always replicate. But it would never be the same to hear Ma's quiet humming as she cooked and to delight in the food she made with love.
Wiping the tears away, Suzie cleaned up the spotless cans—Ma would've been proud to see them clean their plates (or cans, as it were)—while Richard flipped the map over to draw a clumsy sketch of Norden. Finished stacking the cans into a corner of a crate stored in the trunk of the Volkswagen, Suzie joined Richard's side and used the binoculars to peer out the windows.
Norden looked busy. People splashing in the sea or lounging on the beach. Cars bustling around on the streets. Families shopping in the stores. Mothers watching their children play. Fishermen working the docks.
The town looked rather cheery after losing a world war. Either the people didn't care or preferred the Allies winning instead of the Nazis. Probably not, considering Norden's size. There would be more Nazi sympathizers than Allied supporters even in a coastal town.
Thankfully, they didn't spot any Nazi presence, at least not any Nazi soldiers or military vehicles. It would still be wise to avoid the citizens because not everyone would be as nice as the friendly German man who had given them the Volkswagen.
Waiting until nightfall seemed the best course of action if they wanted to move undetected.
Suzie glanced down at the crude map scrawled out on the paper. If Steve had been here, he would have tried to find something positive to point out such as "I like the way you drew this square over here" or "Your pen marks are bold" in an attempt to make the talentless artist feel better.
But Steve wasn't here to encourage Richard to "Just practice more. It looks great!" so Suzie stared at Richard's drawing, trying not to judge. Thank goodness Richard wanted to be a lawyer instead of an artist because even Steve couldn't understand or compliment the scribbles of ink.
Little rectangles depicted the buildings, leaving unproportional streets between the squiggly rows. Frowny faces marked places to avoid because Richard was anything if not a child at heart. If Suzie hadn't been sitting beside Richard and surveying the same town, she would've assumed he had finally lost his mind and needed to check into a mental asylum because of how convoluted the map looked.
Not everyone could become an artist. Even Hitler had better skills than this.
In the end, they decided to just straight up ditch the map because not even Richard knew what he had drawn, and neither of them could draw to save their lives. Steve's artistic skills had not rubbed off on Bucky either, especially in his current state.
Map or no map, they could figure it out. Besides, their plan was simple. Sneak down through the streets, carrying as many supplies as possible, use alleyways as cover to avoid pedestrians, and "borrow" a small boat from the docks. Then, they'd set sail toward the UK and hope they didn't come across any water mines or submarines lurking in the depths.
Their plan hinged on the Germans not firing upon a fishing vessel, especially after having lost a war. Once out on the water, they'd be safe from people trying to track them down. The town's police couldn't follow to reclaim the "borrowed" boat and Germany couldn't open fire without committing a war crime and turning the world further against them in a supposed time of peace.
Their plan finalized and everyone feeling rejuvenated, the trio stuffed as many supplies into their packs as they could fit before leaving the Volkswagen parked behind a pile of chopped logs. Someone would find it eventually, but by then, they would be long gone. Anyone could take the leftover supplies.
Suzie and Richard slung their rifles over their shoulders, ready to draw their sidearms in case some Nazi popped out of the blue to stop them.
Luck, for once, joined their side, and they got the docks undeterred. The wooden boards shifted under their booted feet, groaning too loud for Suzie's comfort. The docks didn't have any cover—long boardwalks of planks slapped together to form a maze of wood jutted out into the water. Boats rocked on the water, bumping against the docks.
Although Suzie had hated working there, she preferred the Brooklyn harbour over this one. At least the docks in Brooklyn had buildings on one side to block the workers from view of the street. The buildings at Norden's docks sat far inland, leaving the walkways exposed. To make matters worse, land bordered the docks on three sides, leaving a small passage in the middle for the boats in the water. Anyone who happened to turn their way would easily see three American soldiers walking on a German dock, unable to duck into an alleyway or behind a building to hide.
Voices floated up on the breeze, putting a stagger in the trio's steps. Richard dropped into a low crouch, Suzie and Bucky following.
"Probably regular people working late," Richard whispered.
Late. It was almost midnight.
Sad, drunken singing overpowered the sounds of the water slapping the docks. Guided by the moon, the trio kept low and snuck along the docks, away from the out-of-tune voices. Suzie's foot caught in a crack in the wood concealed in the shadow of a boat. She tripped and would've toppled headfirst into the water below if Bucky hadn't grabbed her backpack and hauled her onto her feet like she weighed nothing.
As Suzie tried to calm the hammering of her heart, Richard stopped short, causing her to run into him. Arm extended low to point at a fishing vessel, Richard glanced at the siblings behind him. Suzie nodded, not caring about the type of boat they picked as long as it worked.
Richard led the way to the boat. It didn't look as fancy as the ones they had passed but it floated on the far end of the dock, far enough away from anyone else who might be out here this late at night.
Suzie climbed onto the boat first, trying not to stumble when it rocked beneath her feet. Gosh, she hated water; she couldn't swim. After taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, she turned around to help Bucky board. He followed a few steps behind her when she went below deck. Confirming nobody lurked below deck to spring a trap and take them into the custody of German police for stealing—borrowing, as Richard put it—a boat in a foreign country, she searched for lifejackets.
Richard boarded the boat last after untying the rope tethered to the docks.
"This looks..." Richard paused as he glanced around the weathered deck.
"Old," Suzie finished for him.
The boat looked about several decades old and in dire need of a fresh coat of paint. Probably blue at one point, any paint now looked sun-bleached white. The name, which had been in German anyway so Suzie couldn't read it, had flecked off in chunks on the rear of the boat, leaving behind only a shadow of letters once hidden from view of the sun.
Not a boat expert by any means, as long as it floated and moved well she didn't care about the faded paint job or the stink of fish permeating the air. Thank goodness it didn't have sails because she doubted they could ever leave the docks if it did. A motor would work well enough if they could only get it started.
"Do you know how to operate this thing?" Richard asked, dropping his backpack onto the wooden deck. It groaned worryingly under their combined weight but held together.
"Nope." Suzie tossed a lifejacket at him. He didn't react in time, so it bounced off his chest and gave an unpleasant wet squelch when it hit the floor. "Do you?"
He shook his head, bending down to pick up the lifejacket. Lifejackets weren't supposed to be wet, were they? She hadn't found any massive leaks while sweeping the lower deck for hostiles, so it must've just rained recently to soak the vests. They had been lying exposed to the elements on the upper deck, so Suzie ruled out the possibility of any leaks in the hull. She should still check just in case because finding one while out in the middle of the sea wouldn't do any good.
"Guess there's no better way than jumping straight into it, right?" Suzie joked halfheartdly. She cringed as she pulled on her life jacket, trying to breathe through her mouth instead of her nose to alleviate some of the fishy odor. It only made her gag because the stench hovered around the docks like a thick fog she could taste.
Bucky already wandered into the cabin once Suzie forced him to wear a lifejacket, apparently attempting to start the boat. Suzie didn't know why he thought he could manage it because he had no experience maneuvering a boat. If he did, she didn't know.
She left him to figure it out because she never gave the ships at the Brooklyn harbour any attention longer than to load to them. Walking over to cling to a small railing on the side, Suzie felt a surge of anxiety welling up inside her. Beneath her, the water shone inky black in the moonlight, reflecting the light into her eyes. She couldn't see the bottom. Guessing by the boats floating lazily as the waters lapped against the dock's poles, it looked pretty deep.
Anything deeper than her waist was too deep for her. She had almost drowned once in a swamp because of her heavy backpack and equipment; she didn't care to repeat it while so close to freedom. Thinking back to nearly drowning, she grabbed her discarded backpack sitting next to Richard's. Dragging them to the cabin, she joined the two men, watching as they fussed with the controls.
Richard glanced over his shoulder when Suzie came in, then returned to figuring out how to start the boat.
The inside of the cabin didn't look much better. A crack in the window snaked a divide lengthwise, right in their field of view. The one seat in the middle must've had some nice leather cushions at one point, but now the torn leather squeaked and sagged under her weight when Suzie sat down. A few mementos hung from the walls and rested on the dusty control panel. A faded picture of a little girl and boy hugging a German Shepherd with its long tongue hanging out of its mouth as it cocked its head in an approximation of a doggy smile. Little handwritten notes pinned to a corkboard near the door. A small, handheld German flag (not a Nazi one, Suzie noted) poking out of where the pole had been shoved into an empty crevice near the wheel. The radio sitting next to the wheel looked to be the newest thing in the place.
None of the few labels peeling away from the panel offered English translations, so they relied on Bucky to get the boat up and running. Suzie had no idea how they had survived all this time. They really were nothing more than a trio of idiots relying on luck more than skill to survive.
By some miracle, Buky got the boat started. It sputtered to life, the motor that had seen better days protesting when Bucky gave an experimental press on the throttle. It didn't like it; the jolt sent all three stumbling forward. Grateful she hadn't been standing on the deck and fallen over the edge into the water, Suzie grabbed hold of the doorframe to steady herself.
"I'd prefer not to sink before we leave the docks," Richard said, clutching his side from where he had rammed into one of the rounded handles on the steering wheel.
"Sorry," Bucky apologized and stepped aside for Richard to try his hand at maneuvering the boat away from the shore.
They had a rocky start. Despite moving slower than molasses in January, Richard hit almost everything while operating the wheel. Suzie thought she could smell smoke from the motor, but she could've imagined things because nobody mentioned it. Thankfully, they didn't sustain severe damage, only cosmetic ones whenever the hull scraped against other, more expensive-looking boats. Honestly, the boat couldn't look any worse than it already did, so Suzie didn't care about the scratches.
Finally clear of the other boats and into the open sea, Richard let Bucky take the helm. They couldn't hit anything out here, and Bucky's motor skills had been improving over the last few days, so Suzie left the cabin to stretch her legs. Richard followed her once he made sure Bucky knew where to go and to warn them if he saw anything.
Suzie wandered below deck again to check for any supplies. Fishing nets took up most of the space in the cramped area. A few empty buckets reeked of fish while another smelled like a toilet—probably was a toilet since fishermen often spent hours at sea and didn't return to shore for bathroom breaks. Suzie wished she could lose her sense of smell—and taste because she swore the rancid flavor of smelly fish coated the inside of her mouth.
Finding nothing useful below deck, Suzie wandered back up the rickety steps; they complained each time her foot landed on the thin boards.
"Find anything?" Richard asked, meeting her at the top of the stairs.
She shook her head in response.
Together, they strode to the railing to gaze at the disappearing docks. The lights from the town of Norden blinked out the further they floated away. Soon, only the light of the moon and the billion pinpricks of stars led the way in the pitch-black sky. Adrenaline fading, Suzie slid down to sit against the railing on the back of the boat. From here, she could barely see Bucky's form through the open cabin door.
The air on the open deck smelt salty yet blessedly fresh despite tinges of fish wafting along by the breeze. The openness gave her room to breathe something other than the overwhelming rancid odor of mold and rotting fish.
The cover of darkness and having lights on board let them float quietly by any possible enemy ships. It also unfortunately hid them from allied ships searching for strays returning home. Figuring she'd take her chances, Suzie sat in the relative darkness guided only by the moon and stars.
It unsettled her to be out here so far from shore. The waves' intensity increased, though Bucky did a remarkable job of keeping the boat steady. Something of this age probably wasn't meant to go out this far, which concerned her. If they started to sink, they couldn't swim to shore and there were no lifeboats on board in case of an emergency. She could only hope the life jackets would work. Hopefully, they wouldn't need to.
Still, she felt every tilt and rocking motion from the waves pushing them further and further from land. The vastness of it overwhelmed her. Used to towering city buildings and crowded streets, Suzie much preferred to camp in a forest instead of out at sea in an old fishing vessel. The sea merged with the sky, creating an endless void of nothing for miles upon miles.
She had hated the ship ride overseas when she first left the US after basic training. She had gone up on deck once during the two-week-long journey and regretted standing near the railing, clutching the metal to stare at the open waters. Everything had been a seamless expanse of blue instead of a shadowy abyss. She had spent the rest of the time in the cramped bunkrooms surrounded by sweaty men playing poker, finding comfort in the crowded interior over the possibility of falling overboard and being left behind to drown in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
She would've preferred to go below deck again even if it stank of toilets and fish just so she couldn't look at the endless darkness, but she figured it would be better to keep an eye on her brother. Besides, having two people on watch instead of one bettered their odds of spotting either an enemy or allied ship.
"How're you feeling?" Richard asked, plopping himself beside her, his rifle resting on his lap. Even out here, staying vigilant in case an enemy lurked in the shadows still meant life or death.
"Queasy," Suzie replied, closing her eyes to block out the sight of absolutely nothing surrounding their little boat. As much as the relief of leaving Germany lifted the heavy burden weighing her down for the past week, she still didn't enjoy the prospect of crossing the North Sea in a stolen fishing boat that had seen much better days.
Hell, she'd take a plane crash over this because at least she'd die quickly if she dropped out of the sky. Drowning took time to kill, and the few times she had been submerged underwater for longer than a few minutes had left a burn in her lungs she did not care to repeat.
And if she did survive drowning, the cold waters could cause other damage. In her cousin Riley's case, pneumonia contracted from freezing water killed him several weeks after he fell into the well. There were too many risks involved, and Suzie would much rather keep her feet planted firmly on solid ground, thank you very much.
When they got home, she swore she would never step foot on a boat again.
"I don't like it either," Richard said, giving Suzie's knee a gentle squeeze. He leaned his head back and chuckled. "Out of all our wild escapades, this one has gotta be the worst."
Suzie snorted. Her whole life ever since the attack at the church had been one giant escapade of surviving from near-death experience to near-death experience. She really hoped this one would be the last. Let her die at the ripe old age of ninety-six, surrounded by dozens of grandkids in a warm, comfy bed, not in the frigid waters of the North Sea.
Out here, nobody could ever recover her body. Her grave would be at the bottom of the sea, the funeral attendees: the fish that happened to swim by.
One particularly rough wave sprayed a shower of seawater onto the deck, splashing everything not sheltered inside the cabin. Suzie shuddered as the water landed on her, soaking her clothes and slithering down her spine.
So much for sleeping tonight.
"I can't wait for a warm bed," Richard said. He stared dejectedly at his rifle before getting up to put it in the safety of a somewhat waterproof cabin. Rejoining Suzie, he shivered and drew his jacket tighter around him.
"What're you looking forward to the most when we get to England?" Richard asked, turning his head to look at Suzie. Frontlit from the moon, his face stood out pale and angular, a ginger-haired ghost.
Suzie shrugged. "Getting Bucky some medical care," she offered. Staring at her outstretched boots, she knocked the toes together to shake off some remaining water before continuing, "Honestly, I just want to brush my teeth."
They hadn't had much time for personal hygiene while on the run. In addition to a few days' worth of plaque build-up, she wanted to rid her mouth of the taste of seawater and fish. Gosh, after this, she never wanted to smell another fish again. It would haunt her dreams for months if she couldn't find strong laundry detergent, shampoo, and toothpaste.
Richard hummed in agreement. "A warm shower would be nice. And a change of clothes." He plucked at his wet jacket and then scratched at the meager beginnings of a beard growing on his jaw. "Helen doesn't like facial hair. I don't either; it's too itchy."
"Bet you look like a fuzzy tomato now," Suzie remarked.
"More like a peach," Richard joked, still rubbing at his thin dusting of hair. It had looked rather patchy in the broad daylight earlier. "An uneven peach."
Suzie laughed at the comparison. She shivered when another wave tossed a handful of mist into her face.
"I'll just be glad when we're safe on land again," Suzie said, though she made no effort to move from her spot to a drier area. Standing up took too much effort. Sitting down had been heaven to her aching legs; she needed to give her tired muscles a break.
"Yeah, at least out here we don't have Hydra on our tails anymore," Richard said. Then he paused and cringed as if he had said something he shouldn't have—a child caught red-handed.
Tiredness and the chilly seawater made Richard's comment take a while to sink in. Suzie pinched her eyebrows together at the 'off-ness' of one of the words, taking a while to clear her muddy thoughts.
Then she realized what Richard had said.
"What?" she all but shouted, her head whipping to the left to stare incredulously at Richard, hoping beyond hope she had misheard him.
Richard leaned away and held up his hands in an attempt to placate her. "I'm sorry..."
Suzie shook her head and waved her hands in an 'x' to stop him from talking. "No. No!"
Jumping to her feet, she strode a few steps away from him, and placed a hand on her hip while the other brushed through her hair. Then she whirled around on him to confirm she didn't mishear. "Back up a bit. Hydra?!" She started pacing. "No, this has gotta be a joke or something. It's not funny, Richard."
"I'm sorry. It's not a joke. Believe me, I wish it were, but it's not," Richard pleaded, and he looked genuinely upset as he stood up to calm her panicking. "Bucky told me and I didn't..."
"How long?" Suzie asked, stopping suddenly to stare at her friend.
"What?"
"How long did you know?"
"Just a couple days..." Richard admitted.
Tears pricked at her eyes while anger seethed in her chest, she ran both hands through her hair to pull at the too-short strands. "What the hell, Richard?! If I had known the Russians were Hydra," she spat out the word, "we could've fought them. Taken them all out. Made them pay. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I knew you'd get like this!" Richard gestured at where Suzie stood shaking from anger at his failure to share rather important information about their enemies. "You get hyper-fixated on doing something stupid whenever you're upset." When Suzie glared at him, he held up his hands again to explain, "I know you're concerned, and you have every right to be, but Bucky needs help. Reaching the UK is the best option we have right now. If you go back to fight Hydra," he pointed at the cabin for emphasis, "you're putting your brother at risk."
A little more quietly, he added, "And I don't want to lose you. You're my best friend, Suzie. It hurts to see you like this, but you need to understand I didn't tell you about Hydra not because I don't trust you, but because I know you'd want justice. I'd want justice, too, if I were in your shoes, and I know how much pain Hydra caused, but it's way too risky. We barely escaped in the first place; going back now will kill us."
Tears flooding her eyes, Suzie heaved in several deep breaths, glaring at Richard, hands curling into fists. The moon hid his face in shadows, painting him a silhouette in the darkness. The sun would be up in an hour or two, but for now, everything still looked dark, dreary, and empty.
Empty, like the hole in her heart. Dreary, like the tears rolling down her face. Dark, like red-hot fire burning through her very soul.
Silent, Suzie spun on her heel and strode into the cabin, leaving Richard to stand alone exposed to the seawater splashing onto the deck.
As much as she hated to admit it, Richard had a point. Turning back now, low on ammo, energy, and backup would lead them straight into Hydra's wretched hands. Once they reached the UK, she'd send Bucky to a hospital and then turn right back around to give Hydra a taste of her wrath. A whole freaking army accompanied by a fleet of planes carrying the biggest bombs the world had ever seen would be nice, but she'd do it alone if she had to.
Hell hath no fury like a woman bent on revenge. Revenge for killing Travis. Revenge for Ma's death. Revenge for capturing and torturing Bucky for who knows how long. Revenge for causing Steve to perish in the icy waters of the Arctic. Revenge for ruining her entire life and tearing the world apart.
They'd suffer for what they had done, the same way she had suffered from her life crumbling around her. Most of her family were dead—dead or subjected to whatever vile schemes Hydra's twisted minds could conjure. Only God knew what Hydra had done to Bucky—Bucky himself sure didn't, not that he'd tell her if she asked.
A twinge of jealousy fanned the flame of betrayal burning in her chest. Bucky hadn't told her about Hydra, only Richard. And then Richard had kept it from her because apparently she'd lose her head and go crazy, putting them all in danger.
The only ones in danger right now were those Hydra soldiers and the smug lieutenant in his stupid, fancy uniform. She would wrack every corner of the earth to yank every slimy Hydra bastard into the light of justice.
Bucky glanced up when Suzie stormed into the cabin. In the moonlight, he looked young and innocent, as if he hadn't lost his memory and was still the gentle, carefree brother she had always known. She couldn't blame him for keeping Hydra a secret; his brain had been too jumbled when she had first found him in the barn. As much as he had improved over the last few days, Suzie didn't entirely understand the full depth of his head injury, only that he remembered nothing before the fall and only bits and pieces of the time after.
"Suzie," Bucky said, watching her let out a shout when she punched the corkboard near the wall. It left a fist-sized indent in the corkboard, but the wooden wall crunched the knuckles of her right hand.
Cradling her bruised fist against her chest, Suzie turned around to lean against the wall and slide down onto the floor. Bucky glanced over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised in question.
"Is this about Hydra?" he asked, his eyes wide and innocent, unaware of what Hydra did to his family.
She'd have to tell him about what happened at some point. She dreaded having that conversation. Could barely think about it, let alone explain it to her brother when he had no memory of their family.
"How'd you..." Suzie muttered, then faded off as something snapped into place like the final piece of a puzzle
Healing at a strangely increased rate. Surviving a fall that should've killed him. Plowing through enemies almost as fast as Steve during the one mission against Hydra she had joined. Picking up on the friendly German's movements before Suzie and Richard had. Too quick. Too strong. Too...enhanced.
Bucky was a super soldier. That's why Hydra wanted him.
Questions flooded in too fast for her to comprehend. Had Bucky known about it before he lost his memory? Did Bucky get the serum when Hydra experimented on him at the Krausberg work camp? Did Steve know? Did anyone know? Why Bucky? Why Hydra?
Why?
How...
Suzie opened her mouth to stare in shock at her brother. Aside from the missing arm, he looked normal, perhaps a little too fit for someone supposedly KIA, but normal. There hadn't been a crazy transformation like Steve's.
But it made too much sense for it not to be true. Hydra wouldn't chase after a random American soldier for no reason; wouldn't put this much effort into retrieving someone dead.
Using the wall as support as she clambered to her feet, Suzie reached out toward Bucky, wanting to pull him into a hug.
The vessel bursting into flames put a stop to it before she could even take a step towards him. Pitching sideways, the floor dropped out from under her as the world tilted into a firey inferno.
Thank you to all the veterans who have served in the armed forces. I know it's not easy, especially when our country seems hellbent on joining every war right now. God bless you on this Memorial Day.