Weapons | Bucky Barnes x OC

16. LEGEND

Warnings: Vasily Karpov.
Just a character joking about mental health and brain stroke.

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Siberia

"Что означает 'Он был перезапущен'? (What does 'he was restarted' mean?)" Vasily Karpov was visibly on a rampage.

"Сэр, мы нашли его таким, как будто его только что пробудили от крио. Он ничего не знал о миссии. (Sir, we found him as if he had just been awakened from cryo. He didn't know anything about the mission.)" a guard responded.

The man with the crimson beret closed his eyes, took a deep breath and turned away, walking towards his desk. Mentally, he was counting.

Один...
Два...
Три...
Четыре...
Пять...
Шесть...

His eyes widened suddenly. Usually he always managed to get to ten, with some difficulty, but he always succeeded. But not that time. At a brisk pace he stalked around the desk, bending down to the drawers level. The Colonel began inspecting the locks as the guard was left confused and in awe in the middle of the room.

Karpov was looking for any sign of a break-in, but a good spy never leaves traces behind. In fact he found nothing, just banging his fist against the wood and returning to the guard.

"Здесь кто-то побывал. Я хочу допросить всех охранников. (Someone's been in here. I want to question all the guards.)" he clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes.

"Start over with the Winter Soldier. And for all our sakes, make him even angrier if it's possible. It's time for that bitch to die." he then ordered, foul, menacing.

The guard swallowed the lump in his throat, nodded only once in greeting and started to leave, when the Colonel suddenly stopped him.

"Do we have any news from Sokovia?"

"No sir, the next report should come at the end of the month."

"Let's hope for the best. We need everything in our power to fix this situation and stop that fugitive."

✪

Meanwhile, in a forest in Japan.

There was a deathly silence in the forest, and there was at least ten centimeters of fog above the ground, like a soft fur carpet. At least the rain seemed to slowly begin to diminish.

"Who are you and what do you want from me?" Anya broke the silence as if she broke a sheet of ice by sticking a knife into it.

Anya stared straight into the almond-shaped eyes of a man who must have been something between forty and fifty years old. Warm ivory skin, long salt and pepper hair gathered in a high ponytail, complete with a beard and sideburns.

He had a pair of round glasses, thick and bushy eyebrows, some wrinkles around his eyes and the corners of his mouth completed the picture. All that was visible because he still held a lantern firmly in his hand. And he had started laughing in Anya's face like there was no tomorrow.

"I'm gonna ask you this one more time. Who are you and what do you want from me?" Anya started to get nervous, pushing the blade harder on his skin.

He stopped laughing, but he didn't wipe that unnerving smile off his lips. Needless to say, Anya was ready to see the man's blood come out of a deep wound on his neck.