Chapter 7. Safely Hidden
Content warning: Some description of physical violence causing injury.
Within minutes of leaving Bruce's practice Bucky went on the highway for a while then pulled off to use the country roads. They were winding routes that took forever but as he explained to Natalie it would be harder for anyone to follow them out there. They finally pulled up to an isolated cabin. He opened Natalie's door and helped her out of the car, then up the steps to the door. Running his hand over the sill at the top he found what he was looking for, a key. Unlocking the door, he let her in first then guided her to the couch and helped her sit down. Returning to the car he brought their luggage in, taking them to the bedrooms. Down in the living room he kneeled before Natalie, holding her hands.
"This is my parent's cabin," he said quietly. "I spent my summers here growing up but I haven't been here since my court martial. They rarely come here in the fall so we should be safe. I've ordered groceries but I can't pick them up until tomorrow morning. There should be coffee and tea here so we have that at least. Come with me so you can see what he did to you."
Gently he led her to the bathroom. Without any words he let her go in and look at herself in the bathroom mirror. When she broke down crying he held her firmly in his arms and kissed her head, murmuring softly to her.
"He'll pay for that, I promise," he said solemnly to her. "I'll make your bed up and you can rest while I get the furnace and hot water heater going and a fire in the fireplace."
"I don't want to sleep alone," she whispered. "I'm afraid."
"Okay," he replied. "We'll share a bed but that's as far as it goes. You're still my client."
She nodded and he helped her up the stairs to the master bedroom, pulled some plastic storage containers out of the linen closet, chose some sheets and made the bed. Then he looked for the containers containing the quilts that his grandmother made and pulled them out, laying them on top of the clean sheets. Inside the closet were storage bags that had the air sucked out of them. After releasing the valve on them so they inflated the bags revealed a couple of pillows. Putting pillowcases on them he put them on the bed. Leaving her to change he went to the utility room and started up the power, furnace, water supply, and finally the hot water heater. Then he went outside to the wood pile and began bringing wood in for the fireplace. When he finished that he checked on her, satisfied when he saw her curled up in the bed, fast asleep. He checked the kitchen cupboards but only found some crackers, cookies, and tea in a plastic bin. No coffee. He ran the tap for a while to blow out all the air then filled up the kettle and made some tea, sipping it as he ate a couple of crackers and cookies at the kitchen table. They were stale but it was what was available. After an hour or so he could hear noises upstairs and poured Natalie her own mug of tea. She came down the stairs and took the mug in her hands, sipping it gratefully for the warmth. Bucky pushed over the crackers and cookies, apologizing for the quality. She smiled and took a cookie, dunking it in the tea, eating it carefully as it hurt to chew.
"He hit me outside the police station," she explained quietly. "Then again when he dragged me out of the car at the warehouse. After he tied me in the chair he slapped me around demanding to know where we had been and where we heading. Since I only knew we were headed to Pittsburgh that's all I could tell him but he didn't believe me and that made him angry. I think he would have beaten me worse if Trent didn't intervene."
"Whose Trent?" asked Bucky.
"He's a driver for Brock," said Natalie. "He's the one who warned me Brock was on steroids and ready to pop. He seemed really angry at Brock for hitting me and likely for killing Amber as well. He tried to give me an ice bag but Brock knocked it out of his hands. I thought he was ready to fight Brock right then but he backed down. Trent came back later and told Brock there was a problem at the loading dock and was left with me. He checked me over to see if I was hurt badly then gave me a message for you."
"For me?" exclaimed Bucky. "I don't know a Trent."
"He said your name and that he's a no one," remembered Natalie. "He's in deep and will stay in as long as he can. Pierce is number one but he doesn't know yet who number two is. Does that mean anything?"
"Shit, he's undercover," said Bucky, sitting back in disbelief. "Deep undercover. Pierce must mean General Pierce from Afghanistan. He was the Commander of all the U.S. forces in Afghanistan while I was there. What is he number one of?"
"I have a guess," said Natalie. "I was pretty much out of it but I saw them putting plastic packages inside furniture boxes, the flat pack type. The packages looked like plastic wrapped styrofoam, the kind they use to protect furniture pieces. Could it be drugs?"
"It likely is," he replied. "The stakes are high enough to warrant killing people. Pierce must have put out the bounty on us. How do I link that to the two boys?"
"Is there a library in this county?" she asked. "I can check some news databases on their computers that I subscribe to. Might get an answer that way. After I heal up, of course."
"Yeah, there is," he replied, then he hesitated for a moment. "We have a couple of hours until sunset. Do you want to go for a walk or sit on the deck?"
She shook her head. "Can we just have a fire and curl up in front of it? I really need to feel normal again after the last 24 hours."
Ten minutes later Bucky had a roaring fire together and pulled the sofa in front of the fireplace so they could both feel its warmth. He sat on the right side of the sofa, expecting Natalie to sit on the other end but instead she curled up next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Then she lifted his arm so that he put it around her and snuggled in.
"We're not a couple," she said out loud, in anticipation of his protest. "I just need the closeness right now. I'm still feeling shaky."
There was silence for a while as they listened to the wood crackle and watched the flames. "How do you know the doctor?" she asked. "Can he be trusted?"
"His name is Bruce Banner and he's married to my ex, Natasha," said Bucky. "They got married in 2006. He's a doctor but he does medical research at John Hopkins as well. I'm still on good terms with her so I think he agreed to help so I wouldn't tell her he was being an ass. When he saw your face though..."
"Who helped you rescue me? I have vague recollections of one guy in the warehouse with you."
"Guys from my old unit. Torres came inside with me, good man to have on your six. Parker was our tech whiz kid, he was only 18 in 2011 but could wire anything up. He managed all the drones in the building and communications. Helped blow the door to get into the building. Stark was the older rich guy who enlisted as a lark to piss off his old man, a billionaire. He provided all the drones and set off the explosives that brought the warehouse down. He has issues."
"For a guy with a dishonourable discharge they all agreed to help you?" she asked.
"We'd been in country long enough that they knew the type of man I was," he replied. "They never believed the charges. They all wanted to testify to my character but my lawyer never called them."
He stopped talking as a realization began building in his mind. Natalie could tell something important had occurred to him and she sat up, looking at him expectantly.
"What is it?" she asked. "Talk it out."
"When a soldier gets in trouble they are assigned legal counsel from the Judge Advocate General," explained Bucky. "Basically, officer lawyers. I was assigned one of the best, or so we were told. Jasper Sitwell, already a Major in JAG. Yet, he never brought up that the Taliban were not in the area the night the base was attacked and my witnesses killed. He never called in anyone to testify on my behalf except for Sam and Steve, and that was only because Steve insisted. He never submitted any evidence from the base doctor who examined the bodies of the two boys as to their time of death. They were both already cold when I entered their house. There was no blood either from the bullet impacts. Sitwell never brought any of that up. In fact, he wanted me to plead guilty so I would get a minimum sentence. But I wouldn't because I didn't do it."
"You think he was in on the conspiracy?" asked Natalie. "Because it sounds like this was a conspiracy from the start. They needed someone to take the blame for the boy's deaths."
"It wasn't my usual squad, either," said Bucky. "It was Sam's but he was sick and Rumlow asked me to take his place. But why did they need anyone to take the blame? They could have left the boys there and said the Taliban did it. No one would try to disprove that."
"Unless they were working with the Taliban and needed to pin it on someone, anyone except them," said Natalie, idly. "Isn't there a big heroin growing region in Afghanistan?"
"Yeah, the region we were in," said Bucky. "We paid the farmers to grow other crops but the drugs still flowed."
He leaned forward and placed his head in his hands, running them through his short hair. When he sat back Natalie saw that he was exhausted.
"When did you last sleep?" she asked.
"I stayed up after you called me from the Pittsburgh police station," he replied. "Got to sleep in my car a few hours a couple of times but didn't sleep well. Does it show?"
"Yeah," she said. "We should go to bed. What time do you pick up the groceries?"
"8 am so I should be up by seven at the latest," he replied, looking at her.
She stood up and took him by the hand up the stairs. With their backs turned to each other they took their clothes off and changed into night clothes. She wore leggings and a sweatshirt while he wore sweatpants and a T-shirt. They got under the quilt together and he raised his arm so she could snuggle into him. He resisted the urge to kiss her head as she placed it on his shoulder and rested her warm hand on his chest.
"Comfy?" he asked. "Keep it pg-13."
She chuckled and closed her eyes. Both were asleep in minutes.
His face was close to hers and he held her head up by her hair. As he spoke she could see the spittle form on his lips.
"You're such a bitch," he sneered. "It's your fault she's dead, you know that. Getting her worked up so that she talked back to me. Pissing me off. You'll be with her as soon as Barnes comes for you. I have plans for him as well."
He pulled a switchblade out of his pocket, opened it, and ran the flat part of the blade across her cheek.
"Maybe I should mark you," he sneered. "A nice cut from your ear across to your other ear."
"Rumlow, there's a problem at the loading dock," interrupted Trent, at the door. "I'll watch her if you want."
"Sure, you watch her," said Rumlow sarcastically. "Like you always watched Amber. You have another ice bag for her as well?"
"Hey man," said Trent, his hands up in the air. "I only drove Amber when you asked me to. She wasn't my type. I like tall, muscular girls with big tits."
Rumlow grunted, closed the blade and put the knife back into his pocket before letting go of Natalie's hair. He stalked out the door and Trent was immediately in front of her, lifting her head gently with both hands. She opened her one eye seeing the concern on his face as he quickly examined her.
"I don't think he's broken any bones," he said in a low voice. "Barnes is coming for you and he has help. When he gets you out of here you have to remember what I'm going to tell you, okay? I'm in deep and I'll stay in as long as I can. Pierce is number one but I still don't know who number two is. I'm no one, remember that. It's code and if he tells the right person he will understand. There are several of us no ones and we want Barnes to be a no one as well. He'll fit right in. Can you remember all that? Rumlow's coming back so I have to get into character. You'll be alright, I promise."
Trent stood up and leaned back against his spot at the wall, with his arms crossed, looking insolently at her. Rumlow came in and glared at him. Shrugging, Trent walked out with a swagger.
Natalie woke up with a start that woke Bucky as well. "What is it?" he asked, looking around in the dark. "Did you hear something?"
"No, I remembered something," she said. "Something Trent said. He said the words no one are a code and if you tell the right person he will understand that code. I don't know who "he" refers to. There are several no ones and they want you to be a no one as well as you'll fit right in. He knew you were coming and that you were bringing help."
"You know Peggy said something about Barton," said Bucky, leaning on his elbow. "He's ex-CIA that was always trying to recruit me. She referred to him as a no one. I wonder if it has to do with the new agency he's with."
"Well, I've remembered it now," said Natalie, lying back under the covers. "I'm going back to sleep. It's still early."
"I'm going to stretch my legs, check the fireplace," said Bucky. "I'll be back soon."
He left the bed and went downstairs to the living room. The embers in the fireplace were still warm but weren't glowing anymore. For a while he sat in the dark trying to make sense of it all but his mind was sluggish and he gave up. He stood in the window looking outside at the dark landscape for a while. Then he turned around and went back up the stairs to the bedroom and climbed in beside an already sleeping Natalie. She clung to him immediately and he put his arm around her again, feeling protective. Without thinking he kissed her on top of her head and breathed in the scent of her hair.
Outside Barton put down his binoculars and sighed. Sooner or later Barnes would put it all together. Once he did Barton was ready to do what he had to do. He just hoped both Barnes and the woman stayed alive long enough. He picked up his cell phone and texted his boss.
He's getting close. How many more clues does he need?
There was no answer for a while then his phone vibrated.
As many as necessary. He's worth it. She needs to heal as well.
Are we extracting Thor soon? He took a chance giving the woman the message.
There was another pause before the answer.
He knows what he's doing. We need confirmation on number two.
Barton put his phone back in his pocket. In the morning, while Barnes went for his groceries he would stay and guard the woman, having a feeling she might be worth it as well.
The following morning Bucky drove to the closest Walmart to pick up the groceries. He stopped at a 24 hour liquor store, buying some decent scotch and a bottle of white wine for Natalie. Then he picked up some medical supplies at a drug store where the pharmacist greeted him, knowing him since childhood. Bucky greeted him back, but didn't stay to chat. He was back in less than thirty minutes and they both eagerly unpacked the bags. Natalie kissed the wine bottle, putting it in the fridge to chill. Together they made breakfast and ate heartily. After they cleaned up the breakfast dishes Natalie cleaned and redressed Bucky's arm then he went into the hallway closet and reached up to the shelf above the hanger bar. He pulled down Yahtzee, Scrabble, Monopoly, and half a dozen jigsaw puzzles.
For the next several days they entertained themselves playing games and solving the jigsaw puzzles. They talked about music, movies, sports and threw more theories back and forth about who number two could be. Natalie changed the bandages on Bucky's arm as Bruce had ordered. On the third day she snipped the stitches off. There was no more discharge or oozing but Bucky still took the antibiotics. At night they slept together in the same bed where Natalie still clung to him and he held her close so she would feel safe.
On the fourth day Bucky looked at Natalie and said he thought she could probably cover up the remaining bruises with makeup. She tried it and agreed that she looked presentable. They both got dressed to go out and started up the car, driving to the public library. Using a public computer Natalie logged into a website that would search several databases at once. She entered Bucky's court martial to find out the exact names of the children that were killed. Then looking around to make sure she wasn't being watched Natalie logged into another website and entered the boys names. While it ran the search Bucky looked at her appraisingly.
"What?" she asked. "I'm a white hat. I'm searching a questionable website to root out some names. This is the easiest way to find out what we're looking for. It will save time."
Bucky raised his eyebrows but made sure his body obscured the screen. As soon as she had the information she wrote it down and closed out of the website. It had identified them as the sons of Ebrahim Gaba.
"That was our interpreter," said Bucky. "They didn't even live in that town. Why were the boys there?"
"Was he evacuated when the Taliban took control?" asked Natalie. "I know that the military relocated hundreds of Afghan civilians who had provided services to them, including interpreters."
"I don't know," said Bucky. "The evacuations happened after I was in prison."
"Let's check the newspaper databases and see if his name comes up in any articles about relocated interpreters," she suggested. "It was newsworthy as many were brought here due to the efforts of the American military units they were assigned to."
That search brought up a dozen hits and they quickly read each article. The final article included a picture of Gaba and Bucky pointed to it.
"That was him," he said. "Did it say where he made his new home?"
"Philadelphia," replied Natalie. "I'll check the directories and Philadephia newspapers to see if he shows up there."
While she looked Bucky went over to the newspaper display in the Library. They had all the major newspapers from around the country with the newest edition on top of the display and past editions underneath the display shelf. Bucky pulled down the current edition of the New York Times and began to quickly scan the headlines. The headline New Police Commissioner caught his eye and he saw that Jasper Sitwell was now the Police Commissioner of New York. Sam was being assigned to the Police Commissioner detail. Could Sitwell be involved? Was he number two? There was a small article about Amber Thompkins' funeral being private but now her parents were worried about her twin sister Natalie and were begging for her to contact them. He put the paper back and returned to Natalie who had located a work address for the former interpreter.
"You have to contact your parents," he said. "There was an article about Amber's funeral but they haven't heard from you and are worried. We can't phone because unlike in the movies they can trace a call immediately. Do you know a way to email so they can't track you?"
She nodded and created a new email account on Google. Using a childhood nickname so they would know it was her, she changed a bunch of settings to make where the email originated remain anonymous. Quickly she typed a message.
I saw in the newspaper that you are worried about me. You should be as my life is still in danger from the man who killed Amber. Don't trust the police in New York. One or more of them is working with Brock Rumlow and will tell him everything. Do trust Detective Steve Rogers. I am with someone who can protect me and has stayed with me the entire time. We're trying to find evidence of who else is involved in this as it's part of a conspiracy that they are protecting. I love you both and to prove this is me – Mom, you used to call me Tumbleweed because I liked to roll around on the floor. Dad, you taught me how to hit a baseball when I was five. Our first dog's name was Mr. Jumbles.
Natalie
She hit the send button and immediately cleared the cache on the browser and restarted the computer.
"The Librarian won't be happy with me as she'll have to log back in again but it will clear my activity completely," she said. "We should go."
He put his hand on her back as they left the Library and held it there until they got into the car. On the way back to the cabin he took the long roundabout way again.
"You lied," he said, looking ahead. "About me being with you the entire time. You could have told them I abandoned you to get drunk."
"That wouldn't have helped," she said. "I abandoned you, too, so we're even."
"Don't put me on a pedestal," he warned harshly. "I'll fall off every time."
"My pedestal for you is about a foot high so if you fall you'll live and you won't kill me when I try to catch you," she blurted out, clearly upset.
He pulled over to the side of the road and looked at her. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I'm not worth it."
"Why do you keep saying that?" she cried, looking at him with her eyes full of tears. "You've put your life on the line for me. Then you rescued me from the warehouse. You've shared a bed with me, allowed me to practically molest you in bed so I can feel safe and you've been an almost perfect gentlemen, except for once leaving me to get drunk, the entire time."
"I'm doing my job," he said quietly. "Keeping you safe, and if allowing you to cuddle with me in bed lets you feel safe then that's part of my job as well. It's nothing more."
"You're such a liar," she said accusingly. "You're lying to yourself if you don't think we have something going on between us. I've noticed how you look at me sometimes, that you've kissed my head in bed when you think I'm asleep."
She got out of the car, slamming the door, and leaned back against it, crying. His hands were still on the steering wheel and he stared at them breathing hard for a bit before making a decision. Getting out of the car he walked around the front of it to the side where she was leaning and looked at her from the grassy shoulder. Then he stepped into her personal space, pulled her into his arms and kissed her tenderly, allowing himself to express his feelings for her. She put her arms around him and kissed him back before he released her, pushing her arms gently away, and stood back.
"I do have feelings for you," he admitted. "Feelings that I've kept tamped down because I don't have the luxury to explore going any further with you, despite my attraction to you. It's too dangerous for me to be compromised by what I feel for you. I beg you not to expect this again, not while I'm still trying to fulfill my professional obligations. I'm with you until I safely deliver you to the police because in Rumlow's mind we're a pair and he wants us both. You to satisfy his sadistic tendencies, me because I can expose him for the killer he's always been. Once we've solved all of this, then I can start looking at you with a man's eyes and think of a future with you, and I do want a future with you ... so much."
He stood in front of her, his brows furrowed as he wondered if the kiss had been too much. She nodded, wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks, and opened the car door.
"Okay, I'll pull back," she promised before she got inside. "Thank you for letting me know where we stand. Just for the record, that was some kiss, and I want a future with you, too."
She got back in the car and put her seatbelt on. He returned to the car, put his seatbelt on then started driving back to the cabin. Whenever he looked at her she seemed fine, as if what had happened beside the car was enough for now. He sighed. His experience with women was so limited. He and Natasha had dated for several years in high school before they married. After they divorced he played the field in Afghanistan with women soldiers, clerks and the like but it was more for sex, never for an actual relationship. Once he got out of military prison he had the odd hookup but that was it. A mature, grown up relationship with a mature, grown up woman was new. Despite his comfort with her and how much they had in common the emotional connection still frightened him. Now that he had declared his feelings he wondered if he really could put them aside to do his job. Both of their lives depended on it.
