Syria, six months after the events of Captain America: Civil War.

Dust and ash emulsified the air as a burka-clad woman moved down the street lined with what was once peoples homes. The remains of the apartment blocks on either side of the street pierced the sky like the bleached bones of a long-dead animal. It cast an eerie and foreboding spell that seemed to drive men mad with hate. A charred gust of wind blew around the corner, and the woman's eyes shut against the stinging dust.

She blinked as she looked over her shoulder at a passing Jeep. Steely blue eyes missing nothing.

"Okay boys, our friendly terrorist shipment is headed your way."

"Copy that Natasha," acknowledged Sam Wilson's voice in her earpiece.

Natasha, Sam and Steve were very close to the shipment of Chitauri weapons they had been hunting for more than a month now. The splinter cell terrorist group smuggling the weapons were particularly good at staying under the radar. They, however, had no idea that they could not evade the near-mythic tracking ability of a certain predator known as the Black Widow.

Sam and Steve were in position in the shell of a ground floor apartment where members of the splinter cell were waiting for their shipment to arrive. They'd successfully infiltrated the group with Natasha on the outside coordinating their mission.

Once the Jeep arrived at their location, the crates containing the weapons were transferred into the building with crazed efficiency. After one of the crates was placed at the centre of the room, the men formed a tightening circle around it to inspect the goods.

The lid was pried open with a crowbar, and an eerie blue glow emanated from inside. All stood in silence for a moment, taking in the destructive potential in front of them.

"Finally, these Chitauri-fuelled weapons will provide us with the firepower we need to lay waste to the regime. What further proof do you need that the U.S. is on our side?" Asserted the commander in Arabic.

Steve sprang into action, sending the commander to the ground with a punch that hit like a freight train.

"That's about as much as I needed to hear," he muttered under his breath as he and Sam made quick work of the group. Natasha appeared in the doorway, taking in the scene peppered with limp bodies.

"Huh, guess my old KGB contacts can still pull through in a pinch."

"We should move fast, it won't take long for them to point to us as the turncoats," said Steve. "We just need to make sure we get these Chitauri components stripped and unusable before another splinter cell tries to take a crack at modifying them."

Natasha looked from the crate to Steve. "You sure you don't want to call Tony in on this Steve?"

Steve's eyes didn't meet Natasha's as he replied: "I'm sure he's got enough on his plate. Where do we need to be next, Sam?"

Sam and Natasha exchanged a quick look. Steve had been stubbornly avoiding the subject of Tony since they set off on their mission. Every time either of them brought up his name, Steve seemed to run from it without a second thought.

"Lebanon," answered Sam.

"All right, let's keep at it, after all, every bit helps."

They spent the next two hours stripping the weapons and making sure the parts were unusable before they exited through a back entrance. They were a short way down the street when the phone in Steve's breast pocket vibrated. For a moment he felt a pang at the thought that it might be Tony. He recognised the number as the emergency callback from king T'Challa of Wakanda, he touched it on the screen and the line connected in his ear. He knew by calling back they could track his location. After half a ring, there was a soft click followed by Ayo's voice:

"The king has requested you return immediately." She relayed impatiently and without giving Steve a chance to respond: "I am sending you coordinates not far from where you are. Make sure you are not seen or followed. One of our jets will pick you up in one hour. Do not be late."

The line cut off before Steve could say anything. He lowered the phone and looked at the screen as a series of numbers appeared on it. The coordinates she was talking about.

Natasha's eyes looked at him with mild concern through the slit in the burka.

"It's T'Challa," he said in a low tone without Natasha needing to ask. "He's asked that I return immediately."

"Bucky?" Sam framed his question.

"He didn't say," replied Steve.

"Okay, I guess we're going to Wakanda," said Natasha knowingly. Steve wouldn't refuse the king's request at the chance that it might have something to do with Bucky. She knew the Wakandans had kept their request purposely vague to ensure his return.

"No, you go on to Lebanon. We can't abandon our mission. I'll go on to Wakanda."

Sam and Natasha exchanged another glance. "Let us know if we're needed." Quipped Sam.

Steve ignored the jab. "Stay safe," he muttered before setting off.

"I guess it's just you and me now Romanoff." Grinned Sam as he watched Steve disappear into the distance.

"I guess so..." muttered Natasha.

After assessing his current location in relation to the pickup point with the help of his GPS, he had seventy miles into the desert to cover in an hour. He glanced at his surroundings for possible transportation, but every possibility was either burned out or broken down, so he moved through the urban ruins stealthily and broke into a run as he cleared the city.

Fifty-five minutes later, Steve came to a halt at the pickup point. He scanned the skies, spotting the black jet flying low toward him in the distance.

It reached him in no time at all and landed at a safe distance in front of him. A ramp opened at the back of the craft. Squinting at the violent wind and resulting dust upheaval from the jet, he jogged up the ramp. It began its take off before the ramp was closed. Steve made his way to the front of the jet, wiping the dust from his eyes in the crook of his elbow.

A young pilot from the Wakandan Air Guard was at the helm and greeted Steve over his shoulder.

"Good afternoon Captain Rogers. My apologies for the urgency, please take a seat, we should be in Wakanda in half an hour."

Steve nodded: "I don't suppose you can tell me what this is all about?"

"The king is playing this close to the chest. I think it best if you talk to him."

With a sigh, Steve took the seat next to the pilot. His mind was racing. Was it Bucky? Were the others okay? His eyes instinctively scanned the control panel in front of him, the jet's cloaking devices were all activated, and they were flying low.

He let his head fall back for a moment and closed his eyes, the events of an hour before playing out in his closed eyelids, impossibly close and far away at the same time. Steve spent most of the flight worrying why T'Challa called him out so urgently.

He watched as the pilot pitched the nose of the jet downward and proceeded to fly straight to the side of a forested hillside. Just as it seemed as though they were going to crash, the craft breached the barrier keeping Wakanda a secret from the rest of the world and the capital city, Birnin Zana, flashed into view.

The Wakandan Air Guard base came up on their right five minutes later. They approached quickly and were waved down by a man on the ground, landing with barely a shudder. Steve looked around at the pilot, who was shutting down the engines.

"Thanks for the lift."

Steve stepped down onto the tarmac and noticed a black car with two tall men in traditional dress, their hands hanging clasped around their front. Striding toward him was Ayo. She was tall and visibly strong. Her head was clean shaven, and she wore a unique black dress like the other members of T'Challa's Dora Milaje (Adored Ones). Large golden hoops hung from her ears as she walked toward him, not unlike a predator.

As she came closer, she looked him up and down in apparent distaste at his dishevelled hair, unshaven face and dirty suit. She paused for a brief moment.

"Captain Rogers." She greeted him.

"Ma'am" Returned Steve.

"Please, it's Ayo, or Adored One, if you must to be formal."

"Come."

With that, she turned and began walking back to the waiting car. Steve jogged to close the distance between them.

"Do you know why I'm here?" He asked.

"Patience Captain." Muttered Ayo.

One of the two men moved to open the door to the back seat of the car. Ayo slipped in first, followed tentatively by Steve, who's eyes examined first the one man and then the other. One thing you could say about the Wakandan's is that they gave nothing away.

They made the trip in silence. Wakanda was a lush and beautiful country, rich in fauna, flora, beautiful landscapes and Vibranium. They drove through a mix of semi-dense forest and grassland for about twenty minutes before Birnin Zana came into view. It shone like a jewel set in the surrounding forest, flanked to the right by a statue of a panther and a series of magnificent waterfalls. It was in stark contrast to destroyed Syria from where Steve had just come; he felt it's grit still in his eyes.

They drove into the heart of the city, surrounded by towering structures that looked like they were from a city far in the future, but at the same time adorned with rich cultural flavour. The forest had been allowed to become part of the cityscape, and the result was a beautiful balance of organic architecture and nature.

They took a right turn into an underground parking lot and came to a standstill next to an ornate looking elevator.

The two men moved to open the doors for Ayo and Steve, but Steve stepped out before either could oblige.

Ayo muttered something to the guards in Wakandan before walking to the elevator and pressing the button to go up. The four of them stood in awkward silence while they waited. The sharp ping of a bell announced its arrival and Ayo stepped in, making a gesture with her head for Steve to follow while pressing a button on the inside of the elevator.

As they rode up to what Steve checked was the 50th floor, Ayo explained to him that she was showing him to his living quarters where he was to get cleaned up, have a meal and rest. The king would send for him when he was ready. She told him that fresh clothes, as well as anything else he needed, would be provided for him and that he was not to leave his room under any circumstances.

At that, Steve shot her a sidelong glance.

"Yes, ma'am."

Ayo's jaw clenched. The elevator opened at the bell, and Ayo stepped out, turning left down a long, well-lit corridor. Five doors down on the right, she stopped and pulled a key from a pocket on the side of her dress. She inserted it into the lock, and it clicked open.

Steve walked into the room past Ayo after much insistence that she go first. He turned to her for further information, but she simply removed the key from the lock, slid it back into her pocket and said:

"Someone will be up to fetch you when the king is ready to see you." She closed the door sharply, and Steve listened to the muffled sound of her heels on the carpet as she walked away. Once he heard the elevator close, he turned to his 'room'.

He took in a large, dark grey marbled kitchen with gleaming metallic surfaces. A dining area with a smooth white-topped table surrounded by six chairs with floor-to-ceiling windows all along the wall on the right of the apartment. To the left, there was a lounge area with a long L-shaped couch forming a nook around a massive; wall mounted flat screen. Between the kitchen and the lounge, there was a large open doorway. Steve walked toward it, his eyebrows raised.

Just beyond the doorway was a huge bedroom with the same line of floor-to-ceiling windows on the right. A king-sized bed with grey sheets stood in the centre of the wall on the far side of the room. The carpet felt thick under his shoes. He looked down at himself and noted that he was in fact covered in dirt, dust, grime, and blood. The thought of a shower was very appealing, so that was the first thing he did.