36. The Winter Soldier

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I'm not used to this much exercise, being confined does that to you.

I have no idea where to even begin to think how to get out of this place; I just follow the hallway on quiet feet. I'm waiting for that shout, those pursuing feet, to put a halt to my prison break.

They're really here. This isn't a trick. It can't be. They haven't forgotten us. Us. Bucky. Oh shit. My mind freezes, but I keep marching on. I've got to find Bucky, or find someone to help me find him. I can't leave without him.

I find a stairwell and scale up it since I figure I need the exercise, and I'm going out on a whim to assume that this facility is partially deep underground. I take my careful time up the stairs, they don't hesitate to give me away. They must have agents focused on something else. A distraction. I hope someone is coming to receive me, I have no idea where I'm going.

After a few flights, I make it onto another floor. This time, I hear some commotion. But what's going on isn't on the floor I'm on, it's somewhere else. I don't find a directory to help me see where I am in this building.

Looks like I've got to do things the old fashioned way: guessing.

These halls are different, whiter, cleaner. The tiles shine with the lights above.

I push myself against a wall as I look around the corner. I pull back, seeing an armed agent. There's only one on this floor? Maybe most are fighting on another. My heart is racing, my mind is giving me a crazy idea. It can work, I know it can. I just have to be smart about it.

I peek around again. The agent has his back to me. I smirk and begin to sneak behind him. I mentally prepare myself for my first move. He'll never see it coming. I begin to sweep his legs out from under him to give me an edge—

Until I'm slapped across the face with a butt of a gun. I fall, seeing stars in my vision. I cough, toss hair out of my face so I can confront him. He's got a stupid smile on his face, has the gun pointed right at me.

"Nice try, sweetheart, but I wasn't born yesterday." He reaches down to grab my arm.

When I'm in mid-pull, I thrust myself at him head first. I connect with his chin, he shoves me into the wall. I duck just as he fires a bullet over my head. I lunge for his legs, he lands hard on his back. I wrestle for the gun. I throttle him with my fist, his head snaps back.

"Aren't so innocent are you, princess?" he growls.

I go animal and bite his arm, the one that holds the gun. He yells and drops it practically into my lap. I straddle him, point the barrel right at his face. He's not intimidated, he only laughs at me.

"Go ahead," he eggs me on. "Remember the feeling of killing."

"Tell me how to get out of here."

"Why? Lost?"

My teeth grind together. "Directions. Now."

"Sorry, I'm not authorized—" He stops as I press the gun into his forehead. "Someone's either being really brave or really stupid."

"You're stalling."

"You're only stalling yourself, sweetheart. You could be on your way by now, but you're threatening me instead."

I hear the small voice scream do it, do it!

"You won't do it," he croons. "You're not who you once were, Danielle."

Redemption ||Bucky Barnes||Where stories live. Discover now