daughterofliberty | [616] ground zero for trouble

[616] ground zero for trouble

"Remember, Nick," she calls, buckling the utility belt of her suit. "I've got years of vacation time saved up. You owe me. After this, I'm taking five whole days in Virginia with Steve, and no one is going to bother us. Right?"

Fury scoffs, and she turns a gimlet eye on him. "Right?"

"Right," he says, holding up his hands in surrender. "Hell, Carter, it's not like the rest of the Avengers and SHIELD aren't around to pick up the slack. Go! You crazy kids have fun. Send a postcard. Let your hair down a little. You've been tense as a wire ever since – "

"I wonder why," she snaps, and he shakes his head.

"Just saying," he says, as Tony Stark sniggers behind him. Sharon waves them both off, an unruly smile tugging at her mouth.

"I'll check in once I've made contact," she says. "Steve should be waiting for me at the rendezvous."

"Good luck, Agent Carter," Tony says, and she tosses him a crisp half-salute, then heads through the hatch towards the hangar that holds her vehicle: not the Quinjet, not for a mission this small, but the cherry-red convertible that hovers as she enters and taps out the activation code. "Come on, baby," she tells it. "Let's go for a ride."

But when she reaches the rendezvous at Avengers Tower and strides through the door, Steve's nowhere to be seen.

And, honestly? Neither is the Avengers Tower.

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"The fence – Selby," Natasha says, "is the kind of person you go to for information, not just buying and selling. If Sharon was working the weapons ring, then I'm certain this Power Broker organization is the one she'd try to infiltrate. We bring Sam in as someone with a vested interest in the goods – "

"As someone who wishes to profit from stolen vibranium," Nakia adds, desert-dry, and Natasha nods to her before continuing.

"... And Selby is suddenly a lot more likely to play ball. If we want to find Sharon, we've got to start by flipping over the same rocks she'd have gone for."

Bucky slants a look at Sam. "I can see why you need a bodyguard in that role," he says, dryly. "How good an actor are you?"

Sam raises his eyebrows and jerks a thumb at Steve. "Hey, if Nat can teach this guy how to play thug, you think she can't turn me into a kingpin?"

"Let's just say Nakia will be doing most of the talking," Nat says, dryly, but her mouth twitches when Sam gives her a look full of betrayal, and she amends.

"He'll be fine."

Nakia pats Sam's arm, while T'Challa looks deeply skeptical but forbears to say anything.

The skeptical look grows a little as Bucky asks, point-blank, "Nakia, are you an equal partner or arm candy? The former, I'm guessing?"

"Equal partner would explain the two bodyguards," Natasha muses, then looks quietly amused.

"Maybe she could be his spokesperson. Sam, how do you feel about being too important to talk?"

"Hey," he says, defensive, "y'all are the ones putting me in for this. If you don't want me undercover, just say so."

"Kidding," Nat tells him, her mouth twitching again. "Kidding."

"You'll be fine, Sam," Steve says, and the confidence in his voice is clear. "I know you can do it."

Sam flicks him a quick look that's a little grateful, which swiftly shifts to determined. "I've got this," he promises them all. "I won't screw it up."

Bucky eyes him. "Just don't bring the bird."

"Don't listen to him, Redwing," Sam says to the drone sitting nearby, and Steve fights a smile.

"If I didn't think it would get shot out of the sky, I'd say you should set it to follow so we can have a visual on you," he says, and Sam nods. "But I get the feeling Madripoor isn't the kind of place where people would just let a drone hover around."

"It's not," Bucky says, as Nakia nods. He looks at her. "You've got contacts there. You've been there more recently than I have, I'm guessing. Want to tell them what to expect?"

"Suspicion," Nakia tells them. "Everywhere we go, from everyone we see."

She taps a Kimoyo bead and calls up a three-dimensional holo-map of Madripoor, sectioning off the city with her hands. "Madripoor is made up of two cities in one: Hightown and Lowtown. This Selby holds court at a bar called the Bronze Monkey, in Lowton."

She selects the neighborhood and expands it so they can all see. "Everyone there will be armed, and we should expect to be tested, especially when entering with the Winter Soldier."

She nods to Bucky. "Almost all business in Madripoor is done after nightfall, so we will have some to prepare and rest before making our approach."

He nods back. "They're going to wonder who you are and how you got hold of me," he tells Sam. "Some of them may try to get a reaction - from me or from you. Maybe Yelena too, but I think she'll fly under the radar; it's more likely they'll focus on you and me. Getting in a giant fight means we lose."

He's careful not to look at Steve or T'Challa as he says, "But we may need to give a show of strength. To show we're not to be messed with."

Nakia nods, and glances at T'Challa, whose stormy brow eloquently describes his feelings on the matter. He meets her gaze and nods back, reluctant but firm.

"What kind of a show of strength?" Sam Wilson wonders, and Nakia looks back to the White Wolf.

This will be hardest on him, for so many reasons, but he is determined and so she will support him as well as she can. "With the Winter Soldier as your bodyguard," she tells Sam, "someone will attempt to accost you." Her gaze is perfectly level.

"Your bodyguard will protect you until you give the order for him to cease. Is that correct, White Wolf?"

"Yes." All emotion has leached from his voice, leaving it bleak. He very carefully doesn't look at anyone but Sam.

"When it happens, it'd be nice if you give that order before I have to kill someone. Just so you know."

Sam's mouth hangs open, and he studies James like he's looking for the lie... but of course, there isn't one. Nat glances at Steve, who looks pale and stricken, then exchanges a look with Nakia.

"I don't..." Sam is saying, flustered. "I don't speak Russian, man."

"You can give the order in English," Natasha interjects, smoothly. He looks at her, and she nods. "You won't let it go too far. We trust you, Sam. Let it go just long enough for them to realize who they're dealing with."

Steve listens in silence, sick to his stomach. He'd give almost anything to be there, to be the one in the line of fire instead - but if he can't be the one, there's no one better than Sam to trust with Bucky's well-being.

"We trust you," he echoes, when Sam's glance slips to him, and makes it firm so that Sam will believe it. So that they'll all believe it.

"Besides," Bucky drawls, and Steve hears the faintest hint of teasing in his best friend's voice, "if you don't screw it up I promise to say something nice about your robot bird. That should be worth it, right?"

Sam's laugh catches them all by surprise, but it's like a wave of relief washing through the room.

"I'm gonna hold you to that, man," Sam tells the White Wolf, and T'Challa breathes a silent sigh of relief as the air in the plane relaxes.

"Good," he determines, then nods towards the rear of the flyer. "There are some sleeping areas in the back, there. I suggest we all take as much rest on the flight as we can."

"That is a very good idea," Okoye calls from the front, and Nakia's the first to stand and start shooing the others toward the sleeping spaces.

Bucky hangs back, near to Steve. Not only does he not want to sleep quite yet, but there's more that Steve probably would like to know about his meeting with the other Sharon Carter.

He watches as Nakia and T'Challa show the others to the sleeping spaces – essentially narrow beds with opaque, locking hatches tucked into the bulkhead – before looking over his shoulder at Bucky.

"Think you'll be able to get some sleep?"

"Eventually. Maybe. I'll try," he promises. "I know I need to be in better shape, if possible."

He lowers his voice just enough that it won't carry, without making it seem like he's trying not to be overheard.

"But I figured you might want to ask a few questions about -- about what started all this, earlier today."

Steve blows out a breath and glances around to make sure they aren't being overheard; Okoye is ignoring them, if she can hear them, and the others are out of earshot, so long as they speak low. "You're not wrong."

Of course he's curious. Hell, he'd be curious even if Bucky had met some alternate universe version of Sharon months ago, back when she'd have been here to laugh about it with them. "That must have been a hell of a shock. Did she..."

He casts a furtive glance again; again, no one is listening. "Look the same?"

"Mostly," Bucky tells him. "Enough so I thought it was her - our version of her, this world's her - at first. Cheekbones are a little different, and maybe the shade of blonde, but ..." He shakes his head.

"You're right, it was a hell of a shock. It's her personality that's the real difference, though, I guess. This - she - was a little sharper-edged, I guess. For one."

A small, weary smile quirks his mouth.

"Also she can hold her liquor better."

His smile is wry and a little sore. "That wouldn't be very hard, to tell the truth."

Steve thinks of carefully lifting a sleeping Sharon into his arms to carry her to her room, the way he'd joked kind of a lightweight, isn't she? and feels a pang familiar from the last few weeks.

"And she recognized you?"

"Oh yeah. Called me Buck." Something turns very wry about his expression, his tone. "Like you do; almost exactly like that."

Bucky sighs and runs a hand through his hair, shoving it back from his face, and lets it drop.

"She was looking for you," he says, simply, softly, holding Steve's gaze. "Said she was supposed to rendezvous with you. The two of you were going on vacation. Together."

"Me?" he says, blankly.

"That doesn't make sense."

"Sure it does," Bucky says, just as quietly as before, with an odd little smile. "The way she told it, the two of you've been together for years, back where she's from. You fell for each other before I came back."

Before he'd gotten in the way.

"Buck – " he starts, and then stops, swallowing it. She called me Buck; like you do, almost exactly like that –

It's not like he hadn't thought, once – long ago, now – but the timing had never seemed right and then she and Bucky met and that was that. A small, selfish voice wonders if that other Steve and other Sharon are happy; sounds like they must be.

Hadn't she said something like that, once? Back when he first saw her in Wakanda? Maybe in another life. Seems she'd been right.

He shakes his head, firm, shedding the thought like water. "That's got nothing to do with our world," he says, determined. "You know that, right?"

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