the winter soldier (metallic) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2014-08-10 15:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, bucky barnes / winter soldier (mcu), steve rogers / captain america (mcu) |
Who: Bucky Barnes with a cameo from Steve Rogers
When: Today, this afternoon.
Where: Paris. Place de la Bastille
What: Goes boom.
Rating: R for some killing.
People had gotten lost in the catacombs of Paris. One particular section was cut off off from the rest of the catacombs save two entrances that were guarded by some of the strongest guard HYDRA could procure. Deep below the catacombs, there was a base. It was headquarters to the Asset when he was in Europe. All the other sites -- Germany, London, Rome -- they were piddling compared to this one. From here, you could get anywhere in Europe in a short amount of time. HYDRA'd spent the last seventy years covering up its non-SHIELD locations across the globe. It wouldn't be on any maps or in any documents on SHIELD's databases. Having destroyed a few HYDRA bases already, Bucky knew he had to make this quick. He just couldn't chance that reinforcements wouldn't arrive. This wasn't just a base for the Asset; it was an outpost where agents monitored things without fear of SHIELD catching wind. He was going to have to take the whole thing out. All he needed was a small window into the elevator shaft. He didn't have to kill these guys, not when what he intended would do that for him. A small canister of knockout gas was gently pushed along the floor to a close enough proximity to each guard. Bucky's mask kept him well protected. HYDRA didn't care about these guards anymore than they cared about any individual member. Neither had a mask of any kind. The first guard's knees buckled; Bucky caught him before he could make a sound and silently dropped him to the ground. The second reached for a cloth in his pocket. He coughed multiple times into his hand, but it was too late. Bucky let him collapse on his own. The elevator, stationed in the wall behind some particularly graphic graffiti (Bucky didn't care about Etienne the un enculé), would alert everyone to his presence. Instead, he flattened the fingers on his bionic arm, using them to pry the doors open. He jammed metal pieces from his pockets into the doors and then grabbed onto the cable with one arm. Bucky locked his metal fingers around it and then opened them just enough that he began sliding downward at a free-fall speed. Just before the end of the line, he slowed himself down until he landed on top of the car without so much as a thump. Seeing everything from the air shafts made it much easier to pretend that what happened to him here wasn't real. He couldn't remember it all, but there was a feeling dread resting in the pit of his stomach. He could feel his heart begin to pump harder the further he crawled through the air ducts. He'd pinpointed the places he'd need to leave his IEDs before he'd come down here, but he'd only gotten as far as air ducts for travel. He wormed his way toward the service room, leaving bombs in every empty spot in the air ducts. No one was in the service room. Why would there be? The Asset was AWOL. No need for the doctor to be around. Bucky slipped through the grate, hovering until he was a few feet off the ground before dropping. Barely a squeak. "Two ccs of etaqualone." He heard a doctor say. The memory was fuzzy, but Bucky's head was filled with a rush of anxiety so overwhelming he felt as if he were locked in that chair all over again. He knew what was coming, he knew that it was going to hurt. He knew what they told him. He was their best option to bring about peace. He was important to the cause. He was shaping the world, and in the meantime, they were shaping him into a monster. But he knew that he had not become a monster overnight. The museum had informed him of several important details of his life: the Howling Commandos, of which he was a part of, were the ones who took care of the dirty work. James Buchanan Barnes, in fact, was Captain America's number one sniper and scout. He was already on his way to becoming this long before he lost his memories. A sound outside the door snapped him out of it. He had a limited window in which to do what he needed. With purpose, he walked around the room, placing tiny, but powerful, explosives in strategic areas. This was the room he wanted gone the most. His mouth was parched by the time he climbed back into the vents and writhed his way toward the other side of the compound. By the time he jumped out of the vent onto a staircase that winded around into another part of the catacombs, he was parched and ready to get out of here. He needed fresh air, he needed to see the sky. He had to know that he was free. It was funny how no one gave a second thought when you threw a hoodie on over your bionic arm and leather costume. Not even in the summertime. The Indiana was full to the brim with Sunday lunch goers. Bucky melted in with them. He pulled up a chair outside and sank into it, watching the area where any HYDRA agents might be able to get out the underground base. He shoved his hands in his pockets to still them. A low rumbling disturbed only a handful of tourists who looked up at the swollen sky and shrugged it off. No doubt thanking their lucky stars they were prepared with a good umbrella. Bucky felt as if he'd been staring for ages at this one spot, so when he heard screams beneath what would have been the elevator shaft, it took a second for him to realize what was going on. The explosion had caused the entire structure to cave in, including the section of the catacombs where the elevator shaft was located. The street cracked and plummeted below. Three vehicles took a swan dive, though luckily, Bucky could see them so they hadn't fallen far. Then another crack exposed a wide section of sidewalk, and several civilians -- on bicycles or walking around -- screamed as they went down. Bucky was horrified. He hadn't meant for this to happen. How had it? Was the structure so faulty that any little thing might have caused it? But it wasn't any little thing. It was me. I did this. He suddenly felt ill, even as the rush of HYDRA agents arrived above ground, most worse for the wear. He shrugged off his hoodie, reached around for several of his guns before he realized they weren't gunning for him. They were gunning for a group that he hadn't even spotted before. A group that included Steve Rogers. Two HYDRA agents were just about to get the jump on him from behind when Bucky sighted them and shot. Two bullets, two heads, two agents down at Captain America's feet. There was something strangely familiar about the act, but the multitude of civilian screams and cries kept his attention. The sound of two gunshots from behind him caused him to duck, arms raised to protect his head, but neither made their mark. Or, more accurately, their marks hadn't been Steve himself. On the ground were two HYDRA agents with bullets in their heads, and Steve was very much alive. His eyes scanned the crowd, searching frantically for the shooter. He knew it wasn't one of his group, which left him with few options. Who would have aim like that? Who would be prepared? His heart screamed Bucky, but his head repeated what Sharon kept telling him: no blind spots. He'd gotten lucky, here. They all had. The base they'd discovered underneath Paris was larger than he'd imagined, and if they'd actually been inside when it crumbled, Steve knew they would have been facing serious injuries. Anyone who could have made it out would have looked guilty. This way, they could step in where the police force in Paris were ill-prepared. Steve had to wonder, though, how it had collapsed. It didn't look like one of HYDRA's self-sacrificial acts that he was so familiar with, either. HYDRA would have made certain no one escaped at all. It only took a second for Steve's eyes to focus on a face he hadn't seen in months, at least not in person. He knew that face better than he knew his own. "Bring them down, take them alive if you can," he called out to his team before he darted off in Bucky's direction. They'd take care of it; he had to follow his heart. Maybe he did have a blind spot after all. "Bucky!" He'd been spotted. Shit. Time to go. Bucky meant to linger around, see what he could do to help. He was the one who'd done this. It was his mess to clean up, but if he stuck around, he'd have to face himself much sooner than he wanted. Bucky frantically looked around, then saw his opening. He zigzagged into the smoke and debris, then ducked into an alley and up the side of the building. Fire escapes were handy things. It didn't take him long to shake the super soldier. When he realized he’d lost track of Bucky again, Steve slowed his footsteps, turning around a few times to scan his surroundings just in case he caught another glimpse. Just like after the Winter Soldier had shot Fury, though, his friend had disappeared into thin air. "… let me help you," he pleaded, even though there was no one there to hear him. Don't leave me. Not again. |