Hydra's got it all wrong. He's no weapon: he was their chariot of destruction. A tank or perhaps a guided missile. But now, this convertible is going for a spin. Rev that engine, scratch that paint-job, hit as many dumpsters as humanly possible. Drive up the wrong side of the lane and over all the orange cones; maybe enter a drag-race or two. Mess around in the backseat with the good guys and the bad girls both; scratch the names of his best in the hood. Just to tick Hydra off, when they see; when they've got him back. Because they will get him back. It's as sure as the pendulum's swing. Still, this swing he's going to make last. Make memorable. This is going to be the one: the one above all. Joyride. Or: Post Civil war, Bucky saves Steve from political suicide, Tony from himself, and the Avengers from implosion. He fixes it all, except for himself.