I'm Here | ✓

38 - Lure

I reach my right hand up to scratch my nose. It hides my question into my earpiece. "Sam, how long have I been out here?"

"Fifty-one minutes. Turn left onto Court Street at this next intersection."

I glance behind me, scanning the crowd. I don't have anybody following me yet. I turn the corner and keep walking purposefully like I have a destination. I try my best to stick to the left side of the walk so I can peek into some of the storefronts. It's a casual motion, but I don't think I would find a group of uniformed agents hanging out inside a deli. It doesn't hurt to check.

I hear Sam mutter something that I can't interpret. A few steps ahead of me is a crack in the sidewalk. I pretend to trip over it, exclaiming. I regain my footing and grumble "what?" into the earpiece. Sam knows I'm talking to him, but he's silent for a few moments.

"A little bit of commotion about a block north of you, up ahead. I can't really see. Um... keep on that path. It just looks like a bar fight that they took outside."

I can't see it from where I am, but I pick up the pace and glance in the mirror of a passing car, checking behind me without actually turning around. It's too busy for me to see if anyone was following me anyway, but that probably means they can't see me, either.

"Yeah, no, you're fine. It's resolved. Make another left."

I breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

I pass the bar Sam was talking about and peek inside. It's all neon lights and shaded windows, making it hard to see. I don't get a good look before I have to continue. It's Brooklyn, I chide myself. Fights happen all the time.

"Fifty-six minutes. You can take off your glasses if you want."

I try to remember where Sebastian Stan would hook his glasses. Steve and I looked at hundreds of paparazzi photos so I could figure out exactly what kind of habits this guy had while walking the street. I take them off and slip them onto the bill of my hat.

I walk around for a few minutes, trying to keep my eyes from flicking around. I keep my face light and open instead of the terrifying resting face I normally have. This is harder than I thought. Under Hydra, they would want me to play a guard or an agent, not be a celebrity. I feel a flicker of doubt, so I try to focus on how wide my eyes are.

"You're doing fine. Redwing is on the building across the street, two doors west." Steve's voice is a comfort over the earpiece, and I feel myself relax a little bit.

I turn to look behind me to disguise my words from the people crowding me. "Nobody is even looking at me."

"Bucky, how many languages do you know?" Sam's voice is back.

"Seventeen. Why?"

"Sebastian Stan is Romanian. Do you know Romanian?"

"I mean, I mostly spoke German and Russian when I was in Bucharest, but it's kind of a blend - "

"I don't care. Steve's gonna call you, just fake a phone call in Romanian, okay?"

I wait, wondering how this is gonna work, until I feel Steve's phone vibrate in my pocket. I take it out slowly; the number is listed as unknown. I answer it.

"Salut?" I say. Hello? I wait for a beat as though someone answered me on the other end. "Da, stiu. Cum ai fost?" I cringe internally at my bad pronunciation. Yes, I know. How have you been? I'm making up a conversation in my head, trying to piece together the words I know in Romanian, and looking for danger all at the same time. Suddenly, I actually trip over an uneven sidewalk. I pitch forward with a small yelp, twisting and falling on my right arm. The phone skids out of my hand and I inspect my elbow. Somehow, my left hand never came out of my pocket, so I'm still in the clear. I have to stay focused. I can't afford mistakes right now.