Chapter 21: Sleet

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"The neck on which diamonds might have worthily sparkled will look less tempting when the biting winter has hung icicles there for gems." -Samuel Lover

***

"They've escaped, sir."

Alexander Pierce's pencil snaps in his callused hands. "What?"

"The Winter Soldier, sir. They've stopped the brainwashing and managed to break Captain America free."

Pierce sizes up to the petty intern. His name tag reads Killian.

"Tell you what," Pierce begins. "Um, put everything we've got into killing those three, okay?"

Killian gulps. "All three of them, sir? I thought-"

"Did I stutter?"

He shakes his head frantically. "No, sir, I just thought you'd want them alive."

"At this point, I don't care. We can make better than them. Just do it. Give them hell."

"Even our mechanical agents, sir? They're not quite finished yet, and we only have a small amount-"

"Again, did I stutter?" The news has put Pierce in the sourest mood. He definitely didn't anticipate this.

"Right on it, sir," Killian says, nodding and almost bowing. Pierce shoos him away, a migraine forming like a storm.

***

"Did you hear that?" Harley and Bucky move throughout Hydra headquarters searching for Steve. "It sounded like metal on metal."

"Like a clang?" Bucky asks. "I heard it, too."

"Maybe it was Steve's shield hitting something?"

"Let's hope."

They had found first aid supplies a few rooms down and cleaned themselves up a bit before heading out. Bucky put something for his burns on and wrapped a particularly bad one, ignoring Harley's apologizes.

"Harley, I'm glad that you weren't afraid to do this," he'd told her. "I definitely deserved it."

Harley, however, needed gauze for the cut on her hand (that would eventually need stitches, along with the slice on her cheek), and had bandaged her neck wound with little white bandages to keep it from bleeding. Like Bucky had done for her, she ignored all remorse.

"You were fighting back," she'd said. "It's what you were trained to do. And there's the fact that it wasn't you."

"Guys!"

Harley and Bucky spin around quickly, the tone of desperation and panic alarming them considerably. Steve is running down the damp hallway towards them, shield in hand, as fast as a racehorse. Harley furrows her eyebrows; she's never seen Steve run from something before.

Steve sprints past them, grabbing Harley's elbow in the process and nearly ripping her arm off.

"Hey, ow! What's the problem?"

Steve stops them and turns to Bucky, who remains unmoved from the same spot, squinting down the black hallway.

"Bucky!"

Bucky holds up a hand to shush him. He continues to scope the area, moving forward with careful, quiet steps.

"Bucky!" Harley hisses. "Get back here!" She feels like a stressed out mother yelling at her kid to get away from something strange at the playground. She spots two red dots in the distance followed by a glint of bronze. Panicking, she darts forward and pulls Bucky backwards by the arm just as he sees it too.

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