Sebastian Stan Short Stories

Bucky Barnes [20]

"The Chase Part 3: Another Proposition"

*

I looked around the room as we all got dressed in our tactical gear and prepared our weapons of choice. Wanda had been given a gun and barred from using her powers to make things fair, and Natasha had been tasked with teaching her the basics of handling it. Cap was supposed to teach Scott, but that proved to be futile after he shot himself in the foot with a gold paintball. Sam didn't have his wings, but at least he had some sort of formal training to fall back on.

"Ready?" Bucky asked next to me. He was busy strapping on a lightweight armored vest, meant to lessen the blow of a high caliber paintball. We each had one, along with sturdy pants and long-sleeved shirts that had a gold stripe around each bicep. 

"Of course. I was the one who got us into this circus," I reminded him. He chuckled and moved to double check his rifle. It was different from the one he had carried in our earlier match. This one had a longer barrel and a scope attached to it. It was a sniper rifle. 

"Alright, gather round," Steve announced. "Just like last time, we're changing up the rules a little. We know where T'Challa and his security forces have their base, but they also know where ours is. They're a few kilometers apart, separated by dense jungle. Buck, Clint, you're both staying at the base as our snipers. Pick a spotter to pair up with, and the rest of us will go on the offensive in teams."

With that, Steve decided the meeting was over, and we filed out of our ready room. It was a short walk through the corridors to a truck waiting for us, and we were treated to a glimpse at T'Challa and his chosen teammates. Most of them were women from T'Challa's specialty security unit, but there were a few men just as tall and broad-shouldered as the king. They were dressed in the same all black get-ups as we were, with silver bands around their upper arms instead of gold. 

"Good luck," T'Challa called out. Steve and Natasha glared at him competitively, Clint had a few choice words about the bet, and Scott said an earnest thank you. He still hadn't stopped fidgeting with his vest. 

"Same to you," I yelled back. Then I loaded up into the truck and took a seat next to Bucky. Wanda sat on my right, picking at the stitches on her sleeve nervously. I put my hand over one of hers, and she looked up at me. "First missions, even if they are a game, are always terrifying."

"If I could use my powers, it would be different. I don't know what to do with this," she replied, shrugging her knees and shuffling her rifle. 

"Point and shoot. That's the easy part," I told her. "Pair up with anyone but Scott if you don't stay on our base as a spotter. Natasha, Steve, Sam. They'd all take a bullet, or a paintball, for you. Besides that, keep your head on a swivel and listen to your gut. Your head will say there's too much to think about, but your gut is rarely wrong."

"And if I'm a spotter?" Wanda followed up. Bucky leaned against his knees so he could look past me and answer for her. 

"We're not doing anything fancy for this mission, so you won't have to worry about tracking wind speed or the landscape or anything in depth," he said. "You'll be another set of eyes for the sniper."

I nodded, and Bucky slung his arm over my shoulders once he sat up. 

"That reminds me," he said. "You wanna be my spotter?"

*

"Being a sniper is boring," I whispered. Bucky shushed me, although I could hear the laugh in his voice. "What? We've been sitting here for an hour, and nothing has happened."

"It's moments like these when I'm glad I chose not to have a spotter," Clint said through my earpiece. 

"It's moments like these when I wish you three were out here," Natasha added.