Classified || Bucky Barnes

Chapter 3

May 21st, 2011

Forest Lake, Minnesota

The Winter Soldier let his gaze wander the block, gray eyes skipping between darkened houses and dim lamp posts. The street was empty and the darkness of night concealed him from onlookers. He scanned the area for potential interferences and escape routes once more before slinking through the shadows toward a quaint yellow house.

He'd been monitoring the targets for just over two weeks, burning their daily schedules and routines into his mind. They went to the store once a week, usually on Friday after they both finished work - always by five o' clock. Both were out of the house each morning by seven to their respective jobs. They didn't get visitors, and were always in bed by nine. There wasn't a single security camera on the property. With full faith in their friendly neighborhood, the door was always left unlocked.

The metal arm whirred where it hung at his side, his muscles bunching in preparation as he reached for the silver door nob.

No fingerprints, use the left hand.

He twisted the handle and gave it a push. His black combat boots padded silently along the wooden floor into the living room where the faintest scent of a previously burning candle drifted through the air.

His empty gaze caught on the mantel mounted above the stone fireplace, his feet slowing to a stop beside an padded wooden rocking chair. A framed photo sat propped at each of the farthest edges of the small shelf.

Targets?

One was the bust of a boy who looked to be in his mid twenties. The soldier's stare briefly faltered at the military uniform that stretched across his chest, a matching hat atop his shaved head. The other image was of a girl, likely in her teens. Her head was caught in the trap of an older man's arm while he rubbed his knuckles into her brown hair. She beamed, lips parted with laughter as she struggled in his hold.

Irrelevant, the soldier scolded himself as he carried on.

He strode up the stairs, avoiding a few that he could tell would creak beneath his weight by the way the wood had warped with age. The second story was but a hallway with four doors spilling pale moonlight into the darkness. Straight ahead was the bathroom, that much he could see through the wide open door. On the left were two empty rooms. He didn't have to look to know they were empty with the way the moonlight shone straight through the expanse, not catching a single object to cast a shadow into the hall.

The Winter Soldier turned into the bedroom on the right and found his fingers tightening around the knife strapped to his thigh. The king bed was draped in a mess of gray spreads, beneath which were two lumps of people.

Two targets, non combatant.

He stepped around to the far side and sunk his blade into the center of the man's chest. He didn't flinch when the target's eyes snapped open and he fought to draw in a deep breath in surprise, panicked gaze falling to his fresh wound. The Soldier removed his knife and started toward the opposite side as the second person stirred. She sprung up and cried out in fear when her husband drew his final breath, wild eyes turning to the nearing soldier. She was frightened by the emptiness staring back.

"Robbie!" She sobbed, glancing back at the motionless form in bed beside her. The Winter Soldier reached her side just as she'd tried to scramble away. His left arm shot out and his fingers wrapped tightly around her throat. He squeezed. The woman gasped and choked and clawed at him, but he stared blankly ahead until she fell limp in his grasp. He held on a few seconds more to be safe before letting her sink back into the mattress.