Well, it finally happened - I caught up with myself. Confession time - I am a very slow writer. I wrote the first ten chapters before I even started posting and now I'm only working on Chapter 16. I will try my best to update every two weeks from here on in - but I'd rather take a bit longer and give y'all a good chapter.
Chapter 15 - December 3, Magny-Danigon
Emerging from the tunnels was like being reborn; Stevie had never been happier to see the sky. The sun was setting, filling the snowy forest with golden light - they had spent less time underground than she had thought, for all it had felt like an eternity. Stevie stopped just long enough to place the last mine just inside the main entrance, and then she, Bucky and Jones stumbled and slid down the side of the mountain, Dernier still unconscious on Stevie's shoulder. They ran, half-expecting pursuit, putting as much space as possible between themselves and the caves, the shadows, and the nightmares that the poison gas had awakened. At the base of the mountain, Stevie pulled the detonator from her jacket pocket.
"Goodbye, mine," she said softly, and pressed the button.
The hillside jumped underneath them, almost throwing them to the ground. There was an incredible roar - trees fell, their roots coming free with an immense tearing and cracking; rocks and dirt cascaded down in myriad small avalanches. Any guards left inside wouldn't be coming out alive - and none of that gas would get out either.
By the time they reached the rendezvous point, a clearing deep in the woods, adrenaline and exertion had mitigated the effects of the poison. Stevie's head was pounding and her mouth tasted like an old sock, but at least the forest wasn't lurching and the shadows were only shadows, not spiders and toothed birds.
"There she is!"
The other half of the Howling Commandos had obviously been successful in their mission - the clearing was full of escaped prisoners. They had noticed her coming out of the trees - excited murmurs of "Captain America!" were traveling through the crowd. Within moments, Stevie was surrounded, people shaking her hand, pounding her on the back. She felt a little dazed.
"And where were you?" Peggy demanded, pushing through the crowd. "We thought we'd have to leave without you."
"Got a bit hung up," Stevie said. "Sorry to worry you."
"I wasn't worried," Peggy said, unconvincingly. "I was...peeved. We have a schedule to keep, you know."
"It won't happen again."
Corporal Morita ran to Stevie and helped her lower Dernier to the ground, checking his pulse, his pupils.
"What happened?" The medic asked, dark, almond-shaped eyes full of concern.
"We got gassed," Stevie said. "Everyone started acting...weird. I had to knock him out."
"Gassed?" Morita said, exchanging a significant look with Peggy.
"What?" Stevie asked. "Do you know something?"
"They were testing a chemical weapon on the prisoners," Peggy said. "A kind of gas. It causes hallucinations, aggression, paranoia…"
"Well, we all got a snootful," Stevie said, sitting wearily on a stump. "Will he be alright?"
"Heart rate and breathing seem normal," Morita said. "For anything else, we'll have to wait till he wakes up." He stood and checked her eyes, his flashlight beam stabbing into her already aching head. "How do you feel?"
"Like I have a hangover, and I didn't even get drunk," she laughed it off. "I'm fine, check Bucky and Jones."
Morita took one look at Bucky and left him alone, directing his attention to the more cooperative Jones. Probably a good idea, Stevie thought, given how Bucky had reacted at Kreichsberg.
One of the prisoners had made his way through the crowd while Stevie was talking to Morita, and now he stood in front of her - haggard and hollow-cheeked, with a blanket clutched around his shoulders.
"Hello," Stevie said. He stared at her, his hands shaking.
"Hey, man," Morita said, leaving his examination of Jones. "Why don't you sit down, you look…"
"Fraulein...Rodgers," the man choked out, an expression of terror in his face.
Another prisoner stood and staggered towards her. "Fraulein Rodgers." A third. A fourth.
"What in God's name?" Peggy said. Bucky and Jones stood and closed ranks beside Stevie.
"A message," the prisoners said, just a bit off from unison. "From the Red Skull."
Stevie felt like a cold wind had blown through her. The clearing was silent, everyone still and motionless except for the four prisoners, trembling and terrified, who spoke as if words were being dragged from them with hooks.
"The Red Skull says, enjoy your victory while you can. It will turn to ashes in your mouth. I will make you wade in blood to reach me. How much are you willing to sacrifice?"
Message delivered, the four men began to shudder and claw at their faces - one snatched someone's sidearm and tried to turn it on himself. Altogether, it took twelve men to restrain them.
They walked through the night to the Swiss border, and - relative - safety. There were seventy-three escaped prisoners total, so Stevie split them into three groups, on different routes, to attract less attention. As the rising sun crested the mountains in front of them, they reunited at the safehouse - a remote Swiss chalet owned by none other than Howard Stark.
Despite the chalet's lavish size, it certainly wasn't intended to host eighty-one people. The escapees and Commandos were stuffed in like sardines, finding places on the floor of the large central sitting room. The four men who had delivered Red Skull's "message" had been settled in one of the bedrooms, with some of their fellow escapees looking after them, making sure they wouldn't try to hurt themselves again.
"What was that?" Stevie asked Morita quietly when he emerged from the room. The way the four men had acted...had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. "What did he do to them?"
Morita sighed and took off his cap, running a hand through his thick, black hair, making it stick up in all directions. He had been tending to escaped prisoners all the way in, and he probably wouldn't sleep until they were safely airlifted out tomorrow.
"From what I can gather, it was part of what Hydra was testing," he said. "They were using the gas to induce a state of delirium and panic. To break down the prisoners' willpower and make them into...puppets." His mouth twisted, like he wanted to spit on the floor. "Those evil sons of bitches."
"Will they be alright?"
"In time, probably," he looked sad, angry, and most of all, tired. "Are you still feeling okay?"
Stevie held up a hand before he could check her pulse or start shining lights in her pupils again.
"For the last time, I am fine," she said. "Why don't you take a break, have something to eat." She wagged her finger at him. "Don't make me order you."
Stark's agent had stocked the chalet with supplies in advance of their arrival - blankets, food, even chocolates and several magnums of champagne. Stark had even left a note, affixed to the pineapple in a basket of fruit:
My dear friends,
Make yourselves at home! Don't worry, I've left strict instructions that you're not to be disturbed. See you soon.
Howard
Morita and Stevie's arrival in the sitting room was greeted with cheering, and Stevie soon found a tin mug of champagne pushed into her hand. A lively celebration was just beginning - everyone's weariness from the night-long walk vanishing in the sheer relief of being free. The escapees were just launching into a rousing rendition of "Kiss Me Goodnight, Sergeant Major," led, surprisingly, by the staid Lieutenant Falsworth, who had a lovely, rich baritone.
Jones and Dernier were sitting together on a couch that had been pushed to the wall to make space for everyone, each with a mug of cocoa and a thousand-yard stare. Dernier had regained consciousness about an hour into their journey and couldn't remember anything that had happened inside the mine, although he had been horrified and profusely apologetic when he heard what he had done, and was very glad all the gas had been destroyed.
"That stuff," Jones said with a shudder. "I hate to think what it would do to a unit. Thank God it's sealed under half a mountain."
"Amen to that." Stevie clinked her mug against his. "Couldn't have done it without you, soldier."
He grinned, a bit embarrassed.
"Why don't you two get some rest? There are about eight bedrooms in this place. You could sleep on a real feather bed."
"Yes, sir!" Jones said, gratefully.
"You've more than earned it." Stevie clapped Dernier on the back as he left. "Bravo, mon vieux."
Now, Dugan had joined in the fun, singing in a bellowing, bass voice - a rather obscene song about Hitler's...equipment. Stevie looked around for Bucky, laughing, then realized she couldn't see him anywhere.
After a brief search, she found him sitting on the front steps, looking out at the rising sun and snow-capped peaks. He had scrubbed the guard's blood from his face and hands, and Stevie was relieved it was gone - the gruesome reminder of her close call.
"Bit crowded in there, huh?" She sat next to him.
"I'll say." He had a bottle of brandy in one hand, and it looked like he'd finished about two-thirds of it.
"You're missing a great song. You should ask Dugan to sing it for you later."
Bucky snorted, then took a pull from the bottle and offered it to her. Stevie shook her head and pointed at her mug of champagne. They sat in silence. There was a cold breeze coming from the east, and the smell of woodsmoke from the chimney was pleasant and rustic. Stevie wanted to apologize. She'd been thinking about it the entire way back - if she had killed the sentry, they could have gotten in and out without being spotted. Her decision to spare the man could have gotten them all killed. She was about to open her mouth, but Bucky started talking first.
"I ran," he said, softly. He didn't look at her; he kept staring out at the sun-gilded pines. He took another drink and continued.
"They took us by surprise, the guards. Dropped a gas grenade right on top of us. We took cover and I was lining up a shot, and then…" He rubbed his face with his free hand. "I saw him. Zola. I know he couldn't have been there, but I saw him as clear as I'm seeing you."
He took a deep breath. Let it out. "So I left Jones there and bolted."
"You weren't yourself," Stevie said. Bucky didn't seem to hear her.
"It was like being there again. In...the lab. It all came back; I could see it all, hear it all - like living it again." His hands were shaking on the bottle, his voice was shaking. "I was so afraid...I couldn't…I..."
Bucky started to cry, hand over his face, as Stevie looked on in stunned silence. She had never seen him cry, not even when he broke his wrist in seventh grade.
"Buck…" She said, putting down her mug on the porch.
Do something! She railed silently at herself. Comfort him! She patted his hand in what she hoped was a soothing way.
Bucky dropped his bottle, seized her shoulders and kissed her.
Stevie froze, eyes wide with shock. This was nothing like kissing Howard Stark - he had been deft, cautious, gentle. Bucky was desperate and fierce; he kissed her like he was trying to devour her, one hand buried in her hair, two-day stubble scratching her chin. She closed her eyes, losing herself for a moment in the intensity of his embrace. He tasted like brandy and cigarettes.
No! This was wrong. Bucky wasn't just her friend, he was her subordinate. She put both hands on his chest and pushed him gently away. He stared at her, breathing hard, green eyes burning.
"Bucky," she said. "It's me." Me, your friend. He was drunk, and still coming down off whatever was in the gas, obviously, or he'd never have done something like this.
The fierce, hungry light went out of his eyes and he laughed.
"Sorry," he said. "Guess I've had too much."
He picked up the bottle. Most of the remaining liquor had spilled into the snow.
"Well. Looks like that won't be a problem anymore." He heaved himself to his feet. "Better hit the sack."
Stevie sat on the steps alone for a few minutes, her body buzzing, mind whirling with what had just happened.
He was drunk, she told herself. And eight hours ago, he was hallucinating. He probably wouldn't even remember anything tomorrow. Pull yourself together. She fixed her hair before she went inside. Wouldn't want the men to get the wrong idea.
Inside, the party was proceeding enthusiastically, making Stevie wonder how much booze Stark kept in the place. She waved to everyone, getting another round of cheers, then retreated to the room she'd share with Peggy. Everyone else was either packed in five to a room or sleeping on the floor. Sometimes, being a woman had its perks.
Peggy was sitting on the bed, removing her boots. She sighed with pleasure as she wiggled her toes and rolled her ankles around.
"Sweet relief...what's eating you?" She asked, seeing Stevie's expression.
Not about to mention the kiss, Stevie told her about the guard instead.
"I feel like I made a terrible mistake."
"Don't be too hard on yourself," Peggy took down her hair and brushed it out. Even without makeup, she still looked elegant. "Didn't Von Moltke say that no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy?"
"I thought it was Napoleon."
"Regardless. Who's to say, if you killed the guard, that you wouldn't have gotten lost down there in the mine? Or the other guards wouldn't have found you anyway? Besides, it isn't wrong to be merciful. You're a soldier, not a killer."
Peggy lay back against the pillows and flung out her arms. "Ahh...A real mattress, at last! I was starting to get permanent dents in my back from all the rocks we've been sleeping on."
Stevie still sat on the edge of the bed, tapping her foot nervously.
"There's something else isn't there?" Peggy asked, eyes closed. "You're fidgeting."
"I kissed…" Stevie stopped short. It didn't seem right to tell her about Bucky...it was too intimate. Too personal.
"I kissed Howard Stark!" She blurted.
Peggy sat bolt upright. "You what?!"
I promised you a kiss, and gave you kiss. ;-) Hope you liked it.
In personal news, I'm going to be presenting in a couple of panels for the Denver Public Library at Denver Comic Con! (Which is certainly contributing to my slow writing progress.) Anyone going to be in Denver on the 23rd and 24th? Send me a message and we can grab coffee or something.
Next up - a very special Christmas chapter.