Not Out of The Woods
November 1943, Kreischberg, Austria
The walls closed in like the jaws of a beast, their rough stone surfaces cold against his skin. He was hunched in the corner, his knees pulled tightly to his chest.
Hunger was a constant companion, gnawing at his insides. The scraps they threw at him were a mockery of sustenance, barely enough to keep him alive. Water was a cruel jest, rationed out in drops that left him perpetually parched.
Every night, he dreams of her. He sees her face, hears her voice, feels her hand in his. But when he wakes, the dream shatters, leaving him with a hollow ache that is more potent than any physical pain.
In the depths of his captivity, memories of her were his refuge. Bucky closed his eyes. Gretchen's face, framed by cascading waves of hair, was a portrait of serenity and strength. The mere thought of her brought a warmth that defied the chill of these stone walls.
He longed to see her again, to feel her warmth, to hear her voice.
I will not let this place break me. I will fight, I will endure, and one day, I will see her again. And when I do, I will hold her close, never to let go.
Nestled in the heart of the snow-covered Alps, Hydra Base Camp C3 in Kreischberg loomed like a grim fortress amidst the icy wilderness. Its cold, angular structure, cloaked in the white of winter, jutted out of the mountain's side like a dark scar. Barbed wire curled around the perimeter, and tall, watchful towers punctuated the walls. Inside, dim lamps cast long, wavering shadows on the concrete walls, which were adorned with the ominous red and black banners of Hydra.
Hydra soldiers, clad in dark uniforms, patrolled the corridors with cold, methodical precision.
The clang of metal against metal echoed throughout the facility, a monotonous rhythm that had become all too familiar. Rows of workbenches lined the walls, each one occupied by a grim-faced prisoner.
Bucky Barnes, his frame gaunt and covered in grime, mechanically assembled the machinery in front of him. His blistered fingers moved with the precision of a man who had no choice but to comply, day in and day out. Around him, the other Allied soldiers labored in silence.
Bucky had lost count of the days, but he knew they were all just trying to survive until the next brief respite, the next four hours of sleep that would soon be interrupted by the guards' shrill whistles, signaling the start of another endless day.
Bucky huddled with a small group of POWs around a rickety table, the flickering light of a single, smuggled candle casting long shadows. Dugan leaned in close, his trademark bowler hat nowhere to be found. Gabe, his eyes sharp and alert, listened intently.
"Alright, fellas, listen up. We've got a small window when the guards change shifts. That's our chance. Dugan, you got the wire cutters?" Bucky whispered.
Dugan tugged at his jacket, revealing a pair of makeshift wire cutters. "Right here. Swiped 'em from the tool shed last week. They ain't pretty, but they'll do the job."
Gabe nodded. "We need to be quick and quiet. No heroics. We get out, we get help, and we come back for the others."
There was a murmur of agreement from the surrounding soldiers.
"And what about the patrols? They've been tighter than ever since last week's incident," Smith, a Red Devil asked, his voice trembling slightly.
"We've got that covered," Bucky replied grimly. "Gabe and I will create a diversion near the east gate. They'll think it's another escape attempt and rush over there. That's when you move."
Dugan grinned. "I'll miss my beauty sleep, but anything to give those Hydra bastards the slip."
Gabe placed a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "You sure about this, Sarge? Last time..."
Bucky's eyes hardened, a flicker of pain crossing his face. "Last time, we weren't ready. This time, we are. We stick to the plan, we make it out."
He unfolded a rough sketch of the camp, pointing at key locations. "Here's the layout. East gate's our best bet. Dugan, you cut the fence. Gabe, you and I will handle the guards. Smith will set off the explosion. The rest of you, follow close. Stay low, stay quiet."
The soldiers nodded, their faces etched with the weight of their suffering.
The night was deathly quiet. Bucky and Gabe crouched in the shadows, watching the perimeter guards. Dugan and Smith were a few feet away, Dugan already working on the fence with the wire cutters, the metallic snips barely audible.
"Ready?" Bucky whispered to Gabe.
Gabe nodded, clutching a length of steel pipe, his makeshift weapon. Bucky signaled to Smith, who set off a small explosion near the east gate. Alarms blared, and guards rushed towards the noise.
"Now!" Bucky urged.
Dugan finished cutting the last wire, and they slipped through the fence, moving swiftly and silently. They made their way through the shadows, every rustle and snap of twigs setting their nerves on edge.
"So far, so good," Bucky muttered under his breath.
"Told ya, piece of cake," Dugan grinned.
Suddenly, a shout rang out. A guard spotted them, raising his Tesseract-powered rifle. Bucky reacted instantly, lunging forward and tackling the guard to the ground. Gabe followed, knocking out another guard with a swift strike.
"Go, go, go!" Bucky shouted.
The group sprinted towards the tree line, blue beams whizzing past them. They dove for cover, panting heavily. Bucky looked around, counting heads.
"Everyone make it?" he asked.
Smith, breathless but smiling, replied, "Aye, all here."
Dugan pounded his fist into his palm with a sense of urgency. "Next stop, Allied lines. Let's high-tail it before those Hydra goons catch our trail."
They disappeared into the forest, the sounds of the camp fading behind them.
The men stumbled into the woods, moonlight filtering through the canopy, casting eerie shapes upon the ground. The air was crisp and cool, a contrast to the stifling confines of their prison. Moving with silent determination, the group's breaths were the only sounds breaking the stillness.
Bucky led the way, his eyes constantly scanning for any sign of Hydra patrols. Every rustle and snap of branches put them on high alert as they pushed through the dense foliage.
"Keep it tight, fellas," Dugan whispered. "We're not out of the woods yet."
"Literally and figuratively," Bucky quipped, trying to lighten the mood. A faint chuckle rippled through the group, easing some of the tension.
"How far to the rendezvous point?" Gabe asked quietly.
"We've got about 50 clicks to go," Bucky replied, pulling out a rough map. "Should hit the river soon, follow it south. That'll lead us to friendly territory."
Suddenly, the distant sound of barking dogs and shouting voices reached their ears. Hydra's search parties were on their trail.
"They're coming! We've got to move faster!" Smith said, panic creeping into his voice.
"We need to slow them down. Any ideas?" Dugan asked, looking around.
Bucky spotted a narrow ravine up ahead and quickly devised a plan. Gabe, Dugan, and Bucky set up a makeshift trap, gathering branches and vines to create a tripwire. The group then hid in the underbrush as the Hydra search party approached.
As the first Hydra guard stepped into the ravine, he tripped the wire, triggering a cascade of branches and rocks. The search party was thrown into chaos, and the group took the opportunity to move further ahead.
They reached the riverbank. They waded into the river, the cold water biting at their legs. The current was strong, but they pushed through.
As they climbed in, Bucky took the oars, steering them away from the shore.
"Think we lost them?" Dugan asked, looking back at the forest.
"For now. But they'll keep searching. We need to get as far away as possible before dawn," Bucky replied, his breaths heavy from the exertion.
As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, the group was exhausted but relieved. They had made good distance.
"We did it. We're free," Gabe said, sitting back, catching his breath.
"Hold your horses, Gabe. We still need to get to the Allied lines. Then we come back for the others," Bucky said, his eyes scanning the horizon.
As they stood there, savoring their moment of freedom, Dugan spoke up. "Sarge, request permission to take a break. We've been pushing hard for days, and I'm beat."
Bucky nodded. "Agreed. We could all use a rest. We'll move again at first light." He coughed, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Gabe slid down to the ground with a relieved sigh. "Thank God. I don't think I could take another step right now."
As the group settled into their makeshift resting spots within a nearby cave, the sounds of soft snores filled the air.
Smith, however, was not destined for a peaceful slumber. A sound, faint at first, stirred him from his sleep. He rose to his feet and followed the source of the sound. The sound became clearer - a soft rustling, like the shifting of leaves.
As he wandered away from the cave, he found himself face to face with a Hydra guard. Before he could react, the guard shouted a warning and opened fire. A ripple of blue light flashed. Smith ran as fast as he could.
The men were jolted awake by the sound of gunfire. Bucky quickly reached for his knife. He scanned the area, his eyes adjusting to the dark. "Shit" he cursed.
"Drop your weapons," one of the guards shouted, his voice echoing through the forest. "You're surrounded."
Their weapons, heavy and useless in their hands, clattered to the ground.
The guards moved in, roughly grabbing the men and pushing them down.
"Thought you could escape, did you?" a guard sneered, kicking Bucky in the ribs. Bucky grunted in pain, curling around the blow, but he kept silent.
"Get up," the guard barked. "We're not here for a picnic."
The guards dragged the men to their feet and shoved them towards a waiting truck. The truck rumbled on, carrying them back to the facility.
To be continued.