Chapter 8

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Bucky's P.O.V.

We were walking in the town. It wasn't as packed as the day before, but it was still full of people. We needed to get a lot of things, Auriana was telling me. She turned into a clothing booth.
"Do you know the team's sizes?"she asked me, looking at some t-shirts. None of them were here, so I decided to have a bit of fun.
"Steve and I are an extra large, but I can pick for me. I'll get clothes for Sam, too. Natasha is a medium," I explained. She hummed in response, going to look at another piece of clothing.
I looked around for something for Sam. I smiled an evil little smile when I found some hot pink shirts with some kind of cartoon cat in a dress on them. Yes, Sam Wilson would look very pretty in one of these. I picked out an extra large and went back to find Auriana.
She had picked out a few black shirts with dragons on them. She had also picked out a couple jackets.
"Do we need pants?" I asked her. She shook her head, and turned around with her back facing me.
"In the second pocket of my bag, there's a green pouch. That'll have all the money we need to pay for it."
I reached into her bag and found the pouch. I unzipped that and found almost $1,000 cash in almost any kind of currency anyone could think of.
"I know right?" She smiled. " Take out a hundred."
We payed the booth guy for the clothes, Auriana made me carry the bag, and went to go find food.
This place reminded me a lot of the market place I used to go to when I was hiding from Hydra. There were stalls for almost anything, from produce, to used tech, to actual airplane fuel. Auriana said we didn't need any fuel though.
We found some non perishable food booths, and we payed for some canned goods. I vaguely aware of Natasha following us. I kept catching glimpses of her red hair in mirrors.
"7 o clock," Auriana muttered. That confused me for a split second, before I caught sight of a shadowy man in a mirror. I looked down at her as we kept walking.
"We've got to get out of here," I said to her.
"We can't," she kept her face unaffected. "We still need phones. They're absolutely essential"
I looked around again, but I only saw the one guy talking into a phone. He was probably alerting other agents of our location.
"Alright, we have to go now!"
"No, we don't."
"Yes we do!" I sneered. "That guy is telling people where we are.
How could they have found us? We didn't look like assassins. Our metal hands were gloved, and they couldn't see our faces because we were wearing sunglasses and caps.
Auriana walked into a technology stall and bought five random phones. Stuffing them in a bag, she grabbed my metal hand in hers and led me out of the stall and into an alley.
We wove through buildings and around dumpsters until I was sure we weren't being followed. I squeezed her hand, telling her to calm down. She sighed and slowed her pace to a walk.
We kept walking, and she kept holding my hand, probably so I wouldn't go anywhere. Eventually, I heard some kind of rhythmic popping.
"Wait," I said. She let go of my hand and stopped walking.
"What?" She whispered.
"I thought I heard popping, but it stopped."
Auriana looked down. "Oh, that's my ankle. I'm sorry, it does that."
She wiggled her right foot. "I broke it when I was young, and it never healed right. They wanted me back on the field before it fully healed."
She turned around and walked away. I listened to the pops as I followed. How did I not notice that before? I must have been too focused on escaping Hydra to notice ankle pops. It was all I could focus on now.
In fact, I focused on it so much, I didn't notice the man behind me until he hit me in the head with a lead pipe. It didn't hurt.
I slowly turned around to find two men, one holding the pipe, the other holding an M-16 rifle. Both of them looked pretty confident in their abilities against me.
I dropped the bag of clothes I was carrying, and charged the guy with the gun first. He tried to shoot, but I was too fast, and I pointed the gun up.
A loud bang went off, and my ears rang a bit. Another bang, but it came from behind me. The man I was fighting dropped to the ground, blood seeping from his forehead.
Footsteps signaled the other man coming up behind me. I clutched the rifle and swung it as hard as I could.
The gun somehow stopped mid swing, but I didn't, and I spun into a wall. Ow. I whirled around, fists raised and ready to pick the living daylights out of the other guy, only to find a fourteen year old girl holding my gun.
"Where's the other guy?" I asked her. She turned red and pointed to him on the ground, slumping against the wall, unconscious or probably dead.
"This gun is only missing one bullet." She inspected the rifle. "I think I'll keep it."

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