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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘨 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴
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8 hours later | Munich, Germany.
THE BUZZER inside the plane rang throughout the galley, the sound causing Carson's face to scrunch up in discomfort as the speaker was right above his head.
Joaquin walked down the steps from the cockpit and pressed the button to open the doors. "One minute until drop off."
Carson watched as Bucky and Sam continued their staring contest and let out a light scoff at the sight. The two men got up from their seats and walked over to one of the crates to grab their gear before sitting back down, none of them uttering a single word. Bucky perched himself next to Carson while Sam remained standing.
"So, what's the plan?" Bucky asked.
Sam didn't reply. Instead he put in his ear piece and grabbed his goggles.
"Great." Bucky huffed. "So no plan."
"Thirty seconds!" Joaquin called out to them.
"Enjoy your ride Buck." Sam grinned.
"No, you can't call me that." Bucky shook his head.
"Why not?" Sam shrugged. "That's what Steve called you."
"Steve knew me longer. And Steve had a plan."
"Fifteen seconds to drop!"
"You let Carson call you that." Sam added.
"I actually like Carson." Bucky deadpanned making Carson smirk.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Well, I have a plan."
"Really?" Bucky questioned. "Then what is it?"
Sam walked over to the doorway and pulled down his goggles, giving Carson a nod before jumping out and activating his suit.
"Great." Bucky mumbled. He looked over at Carson who had gotten up too, now standing in the doorway and getting ready to jump out too. "Where's the chute?"
"We're at two hundred feet." Joaquin told him. "We're too low for a chute."
Bucky's brows stitched together and he looked back at Carson. "How are you getting down then?"
