AN: This is the fourth and final chapter of The Howling Commandos. I started this story because I rewatched CA:TFA and all the things that weren't said drove me crazy. It was never meant to be as long as it turned out to be, but sometimes things just get away from you. That being said, this wasn't quite the story I set out to write, but I enjoyed it anyway and I hope you do too. Thank you.

PART FOUR

Five days later Bucky was high in a tree, breathing easier than he had the entire time spent he'd spent in London or the camp in Italy. For the first time in weeks he felt calm and like the ground was solid beneath his feet, even if he was currently in a tree. He'd found a comfortable position with a clear view of the base, he'd notched his rifle into the tree in such a way that it wouldn't kill his back while looking through scope for hours on end, and he was currently watching the movement on the base while Steve, Dernier, and Jones scouted out the road. It was peaceful and he would have found it soothing except for the fact Dugan wouldn't shut up on the ground below him and Morita was chatting up their radios like a girl.

He frowned and did the best he could to block them out as he looked at his watch to confirm the time it had taken guard number five to reappear again. Thirty minutes. He moved his scope down and to the right, and waited for guard number six to reappear.

They'd been out there for three days, and he was sleeping a little better, which didn't make much sense to him. He was calmer too, out here where he didn't have to fight the need to be constantly alert. On base it wasn't natural. They were underground and safer than most everyone else in London. If he walked around base, tense and grabbing his gun at every unexpected noise, he was given strange or pitying looks. Out here though, he could be as tense and aware as he felt the need to be, and it was completely acceptable None of the others were looking at him like they needed to fix him, and out here he didn't feel like he needed fixing. It was a relief as was the knowledge that he could still do his job. He'd been a little concerned that Azzano had affected him too much, that he'd be spooked and wouldn't be able to do his job properly. But that wasn't the case. He was calm and he was alert, and his stamina surprised him. He'd spent so long strapped to a table or unconscious in a cell that he'd been concerned that he wouldn't be able to keep up with the boys. They'd spent weeks working and then two weeks eating everything in sight, so they were in good shape, physically. He'd spent weeks being tortured and had been confined to a small room for the first few days of being back. He was concerned his muscles would give out on him, that his mind would see shadows where none existed, that he'd be a liability. But he wasn't. He was keeping up with the others without having to try, and he hadn't lost any of his sniper's focus. He could sit in a tree observing the base for hours if he had to.

Or at least he'd be able to if the others would just shut up.

Bucky groaned when neither Morita or Dugan stopped talking after five more minutes. "Damn chatty Cathy's down there. Not like snipers work in solitude and silence. Not like I need to concentrate to track and clock shift changes. And of course, as usual, I'm the only one in a damn tree. Dugan ever climb a tree in his life? No. I'm the one freezing my ass off up here," he grumbled under his breath.

Of course, no one heard him and Morita continued on while Bucky was trying very hard to focus and pick out any overlaps with the guards' routes, "So then I said, 'Well if that's the way you want it, I'll just set my charges off now,' and then he said—"

Bucky had enough. Angrily, but without taking his eye from the scope, he snatched up his radio and snapped, "Morita, so help me, if the next words out of your mouth aren't, 'Sorry, I'll shut my big ass mouth' I will shoot you in the ass."

"Well damn, Barnes. I was just getting to the best part," Morita complained. Bucky could hear Falsworth laughing next to Morita from where they were keeping watch over their temporary camp.

"I don't care," Bucky replied. "Just shut up or don't use the damn radios. I'm trying to focus here. And, Dum, why don't you actually make yourself useful and write down these numbers for me. A21-B15-C19-D11-E30 and F26."

"You clocking the guards' rounds?" Dugan asked from the ground, but it came in over the radios as well.

"Yeah, but it's not looking promising. They have their routes set up so that someone always has the road or the loading dock in sight. I mean, they're perfectly synchronized each and every time. We're counting on the element of surprise here, but looks like Schmidt is being a lot more careful after Azzano. They're all on alert."

"Well maybe we'll get lucky and Cap and the others will find something," Dugan replied.

"How about it Jones?" Morita's voice came over the radio. "Found anything?" Jones was listening into the radio in case the others needed to get in touch with them. It would be too dangerous for them all to be listening in—to easy to get distracted, too easy to miss something of their own surroundings.

Bucky swiveled his rifle a bit to scan the tree line for a patch of blue. He found them fairly quickly, headed back in the direction of their camp. Automatically, he started scanning the area for signs of trouble.

"As a matter of fact we did," Jones was saying. "There's a blind spot on the road that'll be perfect for carjacking."

"Great. That's something at least. We can get there. Don't know what we'll do when we get there, but we can get there," Falsworth replied.

"Shoot people and blow stuff up. That's what we'll do," Dugan declared firmly.

"Shoot people and blow stuff up," Monty repeated sounding thoroughly unimpressed. "What a comprehensive plan, Dugan. Shoot people and blow stuff up. Need I remind you we are seven against two hundred?"

"So we'll each shoot and blow up roughly thirty people? It'll be fine."

"Yes, we all need to shoot thirty people. They only need seven mean to shoot one," Falsworth snapped in frustration. Bucky huffed in annoyance as he swiveled his gaze about, still checking to make sure there were no enemy soldiers near Steve, Jones, and Dernier. "Forgive me if I don't find those odds particularly alluring."

"Quite your whining, limey," Dugan replied.

"Alright, you prat, I swear—" Falsworth started but Bucky cut him off, because he'd spotted a small squad moving through the woods and they weren't that far from the others. "Everyone, shut up!" he snapped furiously. "Jones, tell Steve there's a squad of six men moving through the trees to your left, about a hundred yards away from you. Looks like a routine sweep. They don't seem to be looking for anything in particular, and there's nothing that suggests they've found you or they know where you are. I can take them out, but the base would know they're missing, which means they'd know we're coming."

Everyone was silent as Jones relayed the message to Steve and came back with, "Cap agrees that we shouldn't engage. Any ideas?"

Bucky scanned the hillside quickly before finding something suitable, "Yeah, turn due west and continue for about a hundred and fifty feet. There's some large rocks that you can take cover in. I'll keep an eye on the squad and warn you if they're heading your way."

"Copy that," Jones said, and Bucky watched as they turned west before finding the squad once more. They were moving through the trees, systematically, twenty feet apart. They seemed relaxed though, so they probably had no idea they weren't alone. After about half an hour they were far enough up the mountain that Bucky could call Steve and the others back down. "Alright, you guys are in the clear."

"Thanks, Sarge. Cap says everyone meet back at camp." Jones replied.

Bucky slung his rifle over his back and quickly made his way down from the tree. Before long, they were back in the small clearing where they'd made camp and Bucky was marking the edges of the base and the guards' watch while Steve was covering the road and the best spot to get their ride.

"Agent Carter said they'd send us a couple of platoons as soon as we finished recon," Falsworth said. "So I'm not quite sure why we're planning this as a small team infiltration."

"Because platoons won't do us any good, Monty," Bucky replied.

Steve nodded and indicated the road. This is the only way in, and most of the road is heavily visible from the base. There's no way we could get even one platoon of men up there. They'd send down a tank and then the men would be fish in a barrel. We're on our own for this one."

Jones shook his head, "Didn't we pick this base first because we thought it'd be easiest?"

"Shows what we know, huh?" Morita smirked.

"It's doable," Steve spoke. "We already know these places are highly explosive. As long as the rest of us can distract them long enough, Dernier to get the explosives in and get out, then we'll just detonate and run."

Bucky nodded agreeing, "Not necessarily smart, but definitely doable. . . . We'll need a tank," Bucky realized.

Steve nodded immediately. "Exactly. If we can get a tank up there that should buy us enough time for Dernier to do his thing."

"We'll need a fall back strategy so we can get far enough away before the place blows," Jones said.

Morita shrugged. "I got some heavy duty grenades from Stark. They'll probably keep them distracted enough for us to make our getaway"

"I call driving the tank!" Dugan declared, and Steve shrugged, allowing it.

"We should go tonight," Bucky said, looking at Steve.

Steve nodded and at the others' questioning looks, explained. "This is technically allied territory at the moment. They won't risk moving something as auspicious as a tank during the day. We'll move in and stake out the blind spot tonight, and again tomorrow night. If we don't get a tank by then, we'll have to reevaluate our plan. We'll set up a watch and sleep light. Four man watch. I'll watch both nights."

Bucky nodded and said, "Me, Jones and Dum Dum tonight. Monty, Dernier, and Morita tomorrow. Dum, you're still on third watch."

"What?!" he exclaimed angrily "You have to be joking."

"Nope. Third watch. You're lucky I'm not making you take it both nights," Bucky smirked.

"Fuck you, Barnes," Dugan growled angrily.

Bucky grinned, "I think you mean 'Fuck you, Sergeant Barnes.'"

Dugan scowled and turned to Steve, "Are you going to let him get away with this?"

Steve's eyes widened in something like panic and he threw his hands up. "No way. Keep me out of this. This is between you and Bucky."

Morita snorted, "Did anyone else hear, 'This is between you and your father'?"

The others snickered and Jones asked, "If Sarge is dad, does that make Cap mom?" They laughed louder and Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Come on; I could totally do better than him."

"No you couldn't," Steve disagreed, before getting down to business once more. "It'll be getting dark soon. Everyone check your gear and get ready. Anything we don't need we'll leave here. Weapons are our only priority. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

The first night was a bust and no one slept particularly well huddled up in the hillside, so Steve let them rest more during the day while they took turns keeping a watch on the base. The second night they got lucky.

"Everyone up; incoming," Steve spoke quietly, but they were all instantly awake.

"What does it look like?" Bucky asked, moving to the edge of the rocks so he could get a glimpse of the headlights down at the base of the mountain.

"Tank and a truck. We're in business," Steve replied. "Truck's in front."

"You want me to take out the truck?" Bucky guessed. If he took out the driver, they could stop the tank long enough to Steve to take the tank. Then Dernier and Jones could go in the truck and get their part of the mission underway while the rest of them were wreaking havoc in the tank.

Steve nodded, "Yeah. Go."

Bucky slung his rifle over his shoulder and scrambled up the rocks and up the road. When he had the exact part of road they'd be taking the vehicles in his scope, he settled in to wait, though he didn't have long to wait at all. In less than a minute, the truck was in his sight. He couldn't see the driver in the dark, but he took a chance and aimed his rifle at roughly head level, then took a shot at both the driver's side and the passenger side. He grinned as the truck came to a quick stop, and he kept the scene in his rifle scope until the small skirmish that broke out was taken care of. Then he stood, shouldered his beautiful and amazing rifle once more, and hurried back down road to the others.

"Damn, Barnes!" Morita declared as soon as he was in ear shot. "Two head shots! How could you even see them?"

Bucky shrugged, "I couldn't."

Jones laughed appreciatively and Dugan let out a low whistle as they finished dragging the bodies to the side of the road.

"Alright, let's go," Steve said, pushing them towards the vehicles. "Jones, Dernier, you ready?"

"Yeah, man," Jones nodded easily. "We'll be fine."

They didn't wait for Jones and Dernier to park before they let out a rain of tank fire on the base. Everything afterwards was complete chaos as Monty released blast after blast from the tank. Morita, Bucky, and Steve abandoned the tank in favor of ease of mobility, and Morita took the opportunity to toss grenades into the holes Monty blasted in the base walls while Steve provided cover fire, and Bucky took out the patrolling guards with his rifle, along with anyone else who tried to take them on from higher up than flood them on the ground. Despite the well set up watch, it was obvious they'd taken them by complete surprise, and the guards made themselves sitting ducks as they tried to pour out of the base. He could practically hear Dugan cackling in glee as the tank blasted the base again and again and Morita had abandoned the grenades in favor of pinning guards in with the semi-automatic assault rifle Stark had given them. It was fiery chaos. Absolute chaos and Bucky couldn't help but grin as he took shot after shot with his sniper rifle. It was truly a thing of beauty, and if Howard Stark wasn't the richest man Bucky had ever met, he'd buy him a case of cigars.

"Incoming!" Bucky shouted as a truck barreled around to where they were. He was ready to fire on the driver when he realized Dernier was waving a white flag out the side of the truck. "It's Jones and Dernier!" he called loudly so no one else would fire on them.

"Need a ride?!" Jones shouted from the driver's side.

Bucky scrambled towards the truck. He jumped in the back then started laying cover fire as the others hurried forward. As soon as Monty and Dugan were out of the tank, Morita was there, tossing a grenade in. Dernier abandoned the passenger seat, and Jones slid over letting Steve jump in behind the wheel, and Morita jumped in the back shouting, "Go! Go!"

Steve peeled away from the base as the tank exploded violently, washing them all in a wave of heat and forcing them to dive down to avoid fiery shrapnel.

"Fuck, Morita!" Bucky snapped irritably, because that had just been too close, but he was drowned out by the sudden loud series of explosions as parts of the base blew violently to pieces, making the truck tremble even as they moved further and further away.

Dugan and Dernier let out loud cheers as they watched the place go up and burn from the back of the truck. Steve kept speeding them quickly down the mountain without the use of headlights to better cover their position, and Jones was in the front seat trying to reach base on their radio while Morita talked him through it. Bucky watched the place burn like mad and shook his head, grinning at Dugan and Dernier who were still going on about the explosion with the odd input of Morita as he helped Jones. Falsworth grinned wide and offered Bucky a cigarette, and he accepted immediately, grinning himself as he took a puff and settled back in the truck.

"Damn it, Jones, you're useless at this," Morita suddenly declared. "Get back here and let me do it."

Jones shrugged easily and moved to the back so Morita could move up front and take over the radio. Jones was their translator, and he was smart as hell, but he couldn't work the radios for shit. That was Morita's job."

"What's he saying, Gabe?" Falsworth asked, nodding towards Dernier who was speaking too fast for any of them to understand and gesticulating wildly with his hands. They'd all picked up a bit of French in their time with Dernier, but at the moment he was talking a mile a minute and Bucky had no clue what he was saying.

Up front, Morita finally got them through to base.

Jones replied, "Apparently he's got pals in the area who'll put us up for the night and supply us with free alcohol. Free French buddies."

"Free alcohol? I like the sound of that," Dugan declared.

"What's not to like?" Bucky agreed, taking another drag on his cigarette.

From the front, Peggy began to rant. "Are you telling me that you didn't call us for reinforcements, but instead took on an entire base on your own? Again?"

Steve sounded hesitant as he replied, "We would have called for the reinforcements, but they wouldn't have done us any good—" he was cut off when the fire reached the weapons store of the base, resulting in a truly massive explosion—the biggest one yet. Dugan, Dernier, and even Falsworth let out huge cheers as Bucky cackled delightedly.

"What was that?" Peggy snapped furiously.

"Weapons floor of the base just exploded," Morita answered. "Whole place just crumbled. It was loud because we're still pretty close."

Dugan, Dernier, Jones, and Falsworth were singing now—a loud uproarious ballad about Hitler with his pants down. Dernier was singing it in French, but it translated the same. Bucky grinned wide, cigarette held lightly between his teeth.

"I can't talk to you idiots," Peggy snapped and then there was another voice on the line. "Good work, men. There's an air field about twenty miles north east. We'll have a plane there in just under an hour and we'll get you boys back home," Colonel Phillips remarked, sounding calm as a cucumber, contrasting Peggy's fury.

"Actually sir," Steve spoke. "Dernier has some Free French friends nearby and I was thinking we could turn this into a diplomatic mission as well—make some new friends and contacts. The more allies we have in the resistant groups, the better."

Colonel Phillips' reply was wry, "And if they have food and alcohol, all the better, right?"

"Sir—"

Phillips cut him off. "Cut the shit, Rogers. I know exactly what's going on here, but I'm going to allow it. Only because it's actually not a bad idea. You boys are a bit of a unique crew, and you would probably do very well as our liaison to the resistant groups. You have until tomorrow afternoon, and then I'm sending a plane. You got it?"

"Yes sir," Steve replied immediately.

"And when you boys arrive, I want you respectable. I heard about the trouble the Corporal and Dernier got themselves into before you boys left. Honestly, I don't know how Barnes got them out of that."

"Years of practice from what I hear, sir," Morita quipped, making Bucky snort and Steve scowl.

"Indeed. But as I said; I expect you respectable. Bribery won't get you out of trouble with the MPs again."

"Of course, sir," Steve promised.

"Call back with the coordinates. Enjoy your night, boys." And with that, Colonel Phillips' voice cut out. Dugan cheered again as Dernier excitedly told them all about his pals in the Free French, not caring if Jones was the only one who could understand him.

Two hours later they were packed into a farm house with thirty loud, drunk Frenchmen. Dernier's pals had welcomed them all with open arms, and after Dernier spoke to them for a few minutes, presumably explaining what he'd been up to, the Frenchmen had cheered for them before opening a hatch in the floor and bringing out cases of liquor. The black market stuff. Bucky had been given his own bottle of French brandy, which he accepted gratefully. The revelry was in full swing as Falsworth pounded away on a piano and the men sang loudly. There was also meat and cheese and bread about, and Bucky had taken advantage of the real food and gotten comfortably full on the food and liquor before settling back in a corner near the door. He watched Dugan in amusement, who was red faced and swearing violently as he arm wrestled with a bear of a Frenchman. Morita was at his back cheering him on loudly, waving a bit of cash in the air while Dernier collected bets from his comrades. Jones was in another group of men gathered around Falsworth, singing loudly and in French.

Bucky watched them all with a smirk on his face, but as the minutes dragged by, he realized he needed air. The feeling had been slowly growing in him for the past half hour until it was so urgent under his skin, he felt like he'd snap if he didn't get out. Moving abruptly he quietly slipped through the door and out into the yard. It was cold, but that just made the air feel fresher and cleaner in his lungs as he tried to still his slightly racing heart. He'd felt calm and together for the whole of their mission, and he'd been hoping that meant he'd turned some sort of a corner. He should have known better. The mission had given him something to focus on. He'd been actually doing something instead of sitting around feeling useless, and that had made a difference. Now though, when there was no mission, there was nothing to fill his mind, nothing to distract him from Zola and the slight panic he almost always felt pushing around the edges of his mind. And apparently, he still wasn't great at being in large groups of people in small spaces. He'd never had that problem before. Bucky had always been extremely social, but now he found that he could only manage for small amounts of time before he needed space in which to breathe. It was ridiculous. It was weak.

He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Half a bottle of brandy hadn't even taken the edge off the feeling. He barely even felt the alcohol in his system at all. He'd had the same problem in London.

"Hey, what are you doing out here?" Steve asked, dragging him out of his thoughts.

Bucky straightened, "Just needed some air. Where've you been?"

"Talking to base. You still partying or you want to help me with something?" Steve asked. He was carrying a map and he gestured to the porch where the light was better.

Bucky followed him immediately, "Happy to help. Brandy?" he asked, passing the bottle to Steve so he could take a swig.

"Thanks," Steve replied. There was a small table on the porch and Steve spread the map out on it. The brandy went beside it, and Bucky focused in on the map immediately. "A few weeks ago the allies moved through to the southeast to push against the Siegfried Line here and fortify the Maginot Line here," he spoke, indicating two areas on the map. "Right here is a tiny little town called Le Motier," he said, indicating a spot on the map, not too far from them. "They're mostly farmers and the Germans had taken over the town for their food and labor. When the allies moved through, they kicked them out, but when they left, they didn't leave a force behind for protection. It's just a tiny place with no real strategic value, so they gave it up, knowing the Germans would likely just take it back."

Bucky could see where this was heading and he shook his head, amused. "Only you, Steve. We come here to party and you find us a cause."

"I didn't mean to," Steve protested, then nodded towards the door. "Our new friends told me about it. A lot of them have family there."

"So you want to go in and kick out the Germans," Bucky guessed.

"That's the size of it."

"And then what? How do we ensure that when we leave, the Germans don't take it back again?" Bucky asked.

"Well, ideally, we beat them so badly that there aren't enough of them to come back, but since there just seems to be more all the time, we leave it to our Free French friends. They want to take the town back, and protect it themselves."

"So we help them take the town," Bucky summarized, looking at the map. "Shouldn't be too hard. They can't have much of a force there. The town wouldn't be able to support that many."

Steve nodded, "Exactly, and we'd be going in with our new friends which gives us thirty or forty extra guns."

"Phillips approve this?" Bucky asked, because that was important. He had no doubt they'd take the town even if Phillips had told them no, but if that were the case, Bucky needed time to make up an excuse for disobeying orders.

"Only because it's good for relations, but he's only giving us two days starting tomorrow," Steve said. "According to him, if we can't take the town before then, it's tough luck for them."

"Two days isn't a lot of time," Bucky frowned. "Maybe we should go in and stop the guys from drinking all of France," Bucky said wryly. Steve looked pointedly at the bottle Bucky had done decent work on and Bucky shrugged, taking another swig that he still could barely feel, "I can hold my liquor."

Steve chuckled, but shook his head, "We'll let them enjoy themselves for tonight. We won't start until after noon."

Bucky smiled, "Fair enough. You want to go tell our new friends the good news?"

"Only if you come with me," Steve said. And Bucky nodded, because he was feeling a little better after the fresh air, and now they had another mission to focus on. It would help hold off that panicky feeling for a while.

He took another drink, and followed Steve back into the house. The announcement led to another round of celebratory drinks, and it was dawn before everyone found a spot on the floor to sleep it off.

Bucky woke up a little bit before noon to Dugan's loud guffaws and the others' snickers.

"Morning, Sarge," Morita greeted him, sounding delighted and immediately putting Bucky on edge.

"What?" he grumbled, looking at the rest of the group warily. Steve couldn't even get a word in, he was snickering so much.

"Make a new friend?" Jones grinned, gesturing to Bucky's sniper rifle. Bucky's sniper rifle, that Bucky had wrapped himself around in the early morning. He blinked, rather startled to find he was hugging the rifle protectively to his chest. And then he groaned, because the others looked so thrilled and he knew there was no way he was going to be able to live it down.

"Come on," he groaned, but it was no use. They were still snickering.

"No, Buck," Steve finally managed to get out. "It's great. When we were six, you gave your teddy bear to Rebecca to help her with her nightmares. It's great you have a sleeping buddy again."

The others howled and cackled more and Bucky glared at Steve's wide grin.

"Yeah, yeah, real funny," he grumbled sitting up. He quickly checked over the rifle to make sure he hadn't messed anything up in his sleep.

"So, have you named it yet?" Falsworth asked as soon as they'd gathered themselves, causing a fresh round of snickers.

Bucky rolled his eyes and knew there was no way he'd be living this down any time soon. Which meant the best thing to do was to fully commit to it. It could be worse; they could be worried about his recovery and the fact that he apparently felt the need to sleep with his rifle. Instead they were joking with him and giving him crap about it, which was undoubtedly the better option.

"Yeah," Bucky declared firmly. "Maria."

The others cackled and howled once more. "You know, Barnes," Jones laughed. "It's good you finally got yourself a steady girl. I'm glad you're finally settling down."

Steve looked like he was about to choke and Bucky stood up, shouldering his rifle who was now apparently named Maria. "You guys are just jealous of what Maria and I have. And if you are done being jealous, I do believe we have a town to take back. Right Captain?" Bucky asked, giving Steve a hard look.

Steve needed a moment to pull himself together, but he finally managed. "Right. Let's get to it."

The next two days passed quickly, and over all, they worked even better together than Bucky had expected, and they were able to take back Le Motier without a hitch and no casualties. The force had indeed been small; only large enough to keep the town in line and transport supplies back behind the Siegfried line for their pals. It was almost laughingly easy to take the town, and when they succeeded, their new friends threw them another party, with the freed villagers this time. With the celebration taking place outside in the village, Bucky didn't even get claustrophobic, and he'd had a steady stream of dance partners all night. When he stepped to the fringes of the party, it was because he was tired and needed to catch his breath, not because he was panicking and fighting for air.

Steve moved over to his side, offering him some more brandy, "Feeling more like yourself?" he asked him, smiling a little.

Bucky downed the drink and smirked, "Yes, actually."

There was enough naked relief on Steve's face for Bucky to know Steve had been worrying about him a lot more than he was letting on, which of course was fairly typical for Steve, though totally unnecessary. "Good. That's . . . that's good, Buck."

Bucky huffed a sigh before shooting him a fairly exasperated look, "You don't have to worry about me, Steve."

Steve rolled his eyes. "How many times have those exact words come out of my mouth, huh, Buck?"

"Well I'm pretty sure you never called me Steve, so maybe not those exact words," Bucky smirked.

Steve wasn't amused. "Not the point, Buck. How many times growing up did I tell you not to worry about me, and how many times did you stop worrying? Of course I'm going to worry."

"Well you don't need to. I'm fine," he said, but at Steve's accusing look, he amended, "Okay, mostly fine. Point is, I'm gonna be fine. Just need some time, you know?"

Steve nodded, "Yeah I know, and that's okay. Really. But you'll tell me if you need anything, right?"

"The only thing I need is more of this right here," Bucky said honestly. "I just need to be able to do something. And payback, well that helps too."

Steve grinned, "Well, we certainly did something here, huh?"

"Yeah," Bucky smiled, nodding at the revelry. "Yeah, we did. Blowing up that base was pretty cathartic too."

Steve nodded and then looked up at the sky. "Stark's coming," he said, and sure enough Bucky heard a plane closing in.

"I'll get the boys," Bucky said, moving off.

The goodbyes were friendly, and on Jones and Dugan's parts, exceedingly friendly as they were both thoroughly kissed by grateful and pretty French women. Dugan was grinning like a fool as they climbed into the plan, and that grin didn't fade as they climbed into the air.

"Well you boys don't do things halfway, do ya?" Howard Stark drawled from the cockpit. "Not only do you blow up an entire base on your own, you free a town and make lifetime allies with some bomb happy Frenchmen."

"We do what we can," Steve replied.

"Well you've made a name for yourselves these last few days," Howard continued. "Senator Grant just so happened to be visiting and he caught wind of your team. You boys are the new American heroes. Well, I guess it's not really new for you, Rogers. But the rest of you; new American heroes."

"American heroes," Bucky said nodding. "Great. What does that mean?"

"It means they're going to capitalize on you boys for the war effort. You're going to be household names, they're even talking about adding you to the Captain America comic books. They're calling you the howling commandos."

"The what? What kind of name is that?" Bucky complained.

"Don't look at me; Senator Grant came up with it. Prepare to be accosted by reporters us soon we get to base. They want interviews and photographs. So . . . you might want to sober up."

"Oh shit," Dugan realized. The others snorted.

"Don't worry, boys. Just smile and it'll be over quick," Steve assured them.

"Oh that's right. You've done this before," Bucky said. "That makes this your fault, right?"

"Hey now," Steve straightened. "It's not my fault."

"Yeah it is," Bucky replied. "You brought your fame and tainted all of us with it."

"What? That's not fair," Steve complained.

Morita scoffed, "Hey, what are you complaining about? We're going to be famous. You know what this means? They'll take care of my family. They'll have to."

"True," Bucky nodded. "Congratulations, man. You deserve it, pal."

Howard's head swung around from the cockpit and he looked startled, "Your family is in an internment camp?"

"Six months now," Morita replied. Steve's expression was dark.

"You're serious?" Howard demanded, not looking at the air at all. Bucky could only hope there were no other planes flying their way. "But you're a damn national hero!"

Morita shrugged, "Hey, it doesn't make sense to me either."

Howard floundered, turning back to the sky, "Well . . . shit . . ."

"You said it, pal," Morita replied.

Steve shook his head, sickened. "Surely there must be someone I can talk to."

"No," came about five different voices, including Morita.

"Absolutely not," Howard continued. "You're not allowed to talk to anyone after that stunt with Reindhart."

Steve rolled his eyes, "That was nothing."

"No, it was stupid," Bucky countered.

Howard nodded, "That lecture you gave Reindhart almost got the entire SSR shut down."

"He was profiteering," Steve argued. "He cares more about his personal profit than our guys on the ground."

"No one's arguing that, pal, we're just telling you how stupid you are for saying that to his face," Bucky replied.

Steve grumbled rather petulantly, "Well someone needed to."

"Yeah, maybe just wait till they decide we're indispensable in this war, huh? Better for all of us that way," Howard replied. "Not that it matters anymore, I suppose. You won't even be able to talk to Grant without Phillips and Carter there with you. And on that note, you might to steer clear of Carter a little longer. The HYDRA base did not help."

"Oh . . ." Steve said, looking positively forlorn.

Bucky patted his shoulder sympathetically, "She'll cool off."

Howard called back from the cockpit, "I'm at least fairly certain she won't shoot at you this time. . . . But . . . bring the shield. Just in case. Oh, and when you're giving those interviews, don't forget who made you your weapons, huh?"

Bucky snorted, "You want to write us up some cards so we can make sure your guns are properly advertised?"

Stark tossed him back a smirk and said, "Nah. Maybe just mention you named the rifle I gave you Maria and that you sleep with her every night. That's probably better advertising than anything I can come up with."

The others howled in laughter and Bucky glared at Steve, who was trying in vain to keep a straight face. "What the hell, Rogers! You told Stark?"

"I just wanted him to know he makes good guns," Steve said, holding his hands up innocently.

"Hey, pal, I'm honored, really," Stark insisted from the open cockpit. "Best compliment I've ever gotten."

Bucky rolled his eyes "Whatever. I don't want to hear it."

"Sure thing. You just tell me whenever Maria needs maintenance. I'll take good care of her."

Bucky glared and did his best to ignore all the snickering.

Howard was right; in a matter of weeks, everyone knew them, and within a couple of months they were the most famous names in the war: Captain America and his Howling Commandos. It was utterly bizarre, and if they were given certain leeway in the beginning that was nothing compared to after they got famous. They reported directly to Colonel Phillips and no one else. They didn't have to follow the same rules as everyone else, they were involved almost exclusively in special operations, hell, they didn't even have to wear the same uniform, and were instead allowed to pick from a selection. Bucky ended up with a rather sharp blue coat that he knew did wonders for his eyes, if the nurses' reactions were anything to go by. That was Senator Grant's man's idea. They were a unit representing multiple countries and multiple races, and apparently, embracing that was good for publicity. Bucky grew particularly attached to his coat, and treated it the same way Dugan treated his ridiculous bowler hat, and Monty treated his beret.

Every time they returned to base between missions they were accosted by more interviewers and more photographs. The more buildings they burned, the more forces they decimated, the more they put themselves in the public eye. On their last mission, they'd even had to play host to film crew so the people could see Captain America and the Howling Commandos "in action." Bucky hadn't exactly been expecting anything like it. He didn't particularly mind most of the time, but there were issues that came up. For one, Bucky was almost always requested in the interviews. Sometimes all the Commandos were there, but a lot of times it was just him and Steve, and the questions were always similarly trite as the reporters sought to glorify the war for the people back home. No one really wanted to hear the hard stuff, and that was fine; Bucky got it. Still, he didn't necessarily like it, but he got it.

Months went by, and they took out HYDRA bases and smaller outposts all over Europe, but they also found plenty of side jobs. Steve was good at that; finding them a cause after they'd just finished a mission. They freed towns, blew up bridges being used for Nazi and HYDRA transport, even assisted in a battle or two when they came across them, which made them real popular with not only the British, French, and American infantries, but also with all the local resistance groups and even the locals themselves. They'd made friends all over Europe so when Steve called base about one of his causes, they almost always said yes.

When the Commandos weren't out in the field, wreaking havoc, they were in London wreaking havoc. They did impossible work out in the field, and Phillips liked to give them breaks after weeks behind enemy lines, but breaks meant all the Commandos were back at base, underfoot and causing trouble. Bucky had to frequently find new and ever more creative ways to keep the boys out of trouble with the MPs, and Steve could barely be left alone without causing some sort of disaster, though in London, Bucky could frequently pass the duty of "Steve sitting" off on Agent Carter, which she allowed partially out of sympathy to Bucky, who was still having to frequently visit Dr. Anderson, and partially because of her feelings for Steve. With Anderson, the brass, the MPs, and the ever pressing reporters, being in London felt like a war of its own for Bucky, and sometimes he wasn't sure which war he preferred. Especially when dealing with reporters who set him on edge with their very first question.

"What was it like when Captain Rogers rescued you from that HYDRA base in Azzano?"

Most reporters tended to respect Azzano as a "do not broach" topic, at least in regards to Bucky's experience there. Some were a little bolder. He understood people wanted to hear about it—how Captain America had saved his best friend from a fate worse than death, how they were reunited and sticking it to the very people who had tortured him. It was a good story, but Bucky still didn't like to talk about it. It'd been almost a year now, but that still didn't seem like enough time. He didn't know if there'd ever be enough time. It didn't seem to matter that months had passed. It still felt like it was chasing after him and that sooner or later, it would catch up. Sometimes he still felt like he'd never made it off that table; that his number was up and had been up, and it was only a matter of time before that caught up to him.

Steve sat tensely beside him, ready to step in if given the slightest indication that he needed to, as usual. Bucky didn't want Steve to have to rescue him though, so he answered a little stiffly, hoping the reporter got the hint, "Unreal. I thought I was hallucinating."

The reporter nodded, seeming fascinated, and that put Bucky off more than anything else. He leaned forward and asked intently, "What was it like in there?"

Bucky sat back in his chair a little, putting a little more distance between himself and the vulture of a reporter. "Bad," he said flatly, and Steve stepped in to change the line of questioning completely.

"I think we should move on to a different topic."

The reporter managed to look slightly chastened at Steve's hard tone and replied, "I'm sorry, Captain Rogers. The people are just fascinated with Sergeant Barnes. He has known you since childhood, after all, and your stories are rather compelling."

Bucky didn't miss the fact that the reporter was apologizing to Steve and not to him. He spoke, annoyed, "Is that why I have to be here and none of the others do?"

"Well two of the Commandos aren't even American," the reporter answered immediately. "And the two of you are the most photogenic."

Steve stiffened beside him and Bucky could just feel the righteous indignation emitting from Steve's every pore. Bucky sat a little straighter in his seat as well and asked Steve, falsely casual, "Does he mean what I think he means?"

Steve's face might as well have been carved from stone, "I believe he was referring to Jim and Gabe."

Bucky widened his eyes, "What?! I thought he was making a rude remark about Dugan's mustache. There's no way he would make a comment about two national heroes in front of the national hero who hand-picked them for his team, right? Surely, no one's that stupid."

"Well I'd certainly hope not," Steve agreed, still staring the reporter down.

"Well, I suppose we could just ask him," Bucky shrugged, turning his own hard gaze on the reporter as well who was now looking a bit pale."

Steve nodded, "Yeah, we could ask him. So what is it, then? Were you referring to Dugan's mustache, or Gabe and Jim's race?"

The reporter looked like he wanted to cry, "Of—of course I wasn't referring to—it's just—uh, you and Sergeant Barnes are good looking young men. What the ladies want to see!"

"Oh, so we're the prettiest?" Bucky stataed.

Steve shook his head in mock pity, "Dugan's gonna cry when he hears this."

Bucky shrugged, "Dugan will get over it. We all know you're the pretty one here."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short, Buck; you're plenty pretty too. And besides, I always thought Dernier was the real looker in the bunch. Morita thinks so too . . . or is it Dernier's explosives he likes so much? I could never tell."

Bucky shrugged, "Beats me." He turned back to the reporter, eyes hard, "Was there anything else you wanted to ask us?"

"No! No, thank you, that was plenty. Thanks," the reporter stammered before he grabbed his things and practically ran from the room.

Bucky snickered after he was gone, "I think he was about to cry."

"Good," Steve said firmly.

Colonel Phillips and Peggy moved into the small conference room they'd been using for the interview. This particular conference room still showed signs of a rather unfortunate and drunken misadventure involving Dernier's new explosives.

"Well that was fast," Phillips remarked, ignoring the two month old scorch marks on the wall in favor of the reporter who'd just fled the room.

Peggy regarded them both with a hard gaze that reminded Bucky eerily of his mother whenever he was in trouble. Bucky put on his best innocent expression, and beside him, Steve did the same. "Why was that reporter running for his life?" she asked disapprovingly.

Bucky answered casually, "He may have made some rather questionable comments regarding our teammates. "We didn't take it well."

Phillips sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Captain Rogers, you are not allowed to inflict pain on reporters and make them cry because they said something you don't like." Bucky raised his hand and waited patiently as Phillips turned an exasperated look on him, "You have a question, Sergeant Barnes?"

Bucky nodded, "Can we make them cry with our words, sir?"

Steve snorted beside him.

"Yes, that's completely allowed," Phillips replied and Bucky and Steve grinned wide as school children.

"Perhaps I will just vet any reporters coming in so that we can avoid having anyone cry," Peggy remarked wryly.

"Well you could, but that wouldn't be near as much fun," Bucky replied. Steve nodded his agreement and Peggy shook her head fondly. "What are we going to do with you boys?"

"Send them out to blow up a base," Phillips remarked calmly. "Get them out of our hair for a little while."

"Which one?" Steve asked perking up, even though they'd just gotten back from their last mission. Steve preferred to be out there doing something though, and Bucky understood. He felt the same way, though he knew the boys wouldn't mind a break in civilization.

"Switzerland."

Bucky frowned, "I was wondering when we'd be sent on that particularly impossible mission."

"Well the time has come," Phillips said firmly. "I'm giving you all two full weeks here for rest and planning. It's going to be a hard mission and one you won't have a lot of resources for. We won't be able to help or supply you with reinforcements, because we'd be in direct violation of the Hague Conventions, and we're on thin ice with Switzerland with the number of our fliers they have interned right now anyway. We won't even be able to mount a rescue if one is needed. We can get you near the border, but that's the best we can do."

Bucky huffed in frustration while Steve sat still and thoughtful beside him. He was considering it, Bucky knew, and he couldn't blame him. But at the same time, he was far more realistic than Steve when it came to planning and their limits, and right now Switzerland seemed outright stupid.

"We won't just be on our own, we'll be on our own in a country that will capture us as soon as they see us and stick us in internment camps until the end of the war, and that's if we're lucky. It's not like we can fight them. They're neutral; it'd be as good as a declaration of war."

"So don't get caught," Phillips replied calmly, making Bucky glare, because that felt like the same sort of impossible task that had landed the 107th in HYDRA hands in the first place.

Steve frowned, "I don't understand how Schmidt even has a base in Switzerland. They're neutral."

"Schmidt broke away from Hitler some time ago, and the base was built before the war as a scientific research facility," Peggy explained. "We believe it is still operating as such officially, so the Swiss have no reason to interfere."

Bucky let his frustration show on his face, "So we go in in secret, make it all the way to the base, which is operating as a non-war scientific research base according to the authorities in Switzerland, blow up this non-war scientific research base, which will be seen as an act of aggression, and then make it back out of the country, again without getting caught. Am I the only one who sees how impossible this is?" He turned to Steve, "You see that, right?"

Steve heaved a sigh, but he nodded. "We've done some pretty reckless stuff, and we've done some pretty impossible stuff. But I honestly don't see how we could pull this off."

Phillips frowned, "Here's how it is; Schmidt has managed to buy off key members of the Swiss government. It was probably easy since he's no longer tied to Hitler and can claim neutrality in the war. In any case, the Swiss are averting their eyes, which allows Schmidt to make his weapons and move them out to wherever that seventh base is hiding. He probably thinks we can't touch the place, which means it's possibly there's a link to finding that seventh base. I don't need to tell you how important that is."

Bucky grit his teeth and began pacing about the room in agitation. He knew that it was important, but that didn't make what they were asking of them any less impossible, and he'd be damned if he was going to let them be the sacrificial lambs again.

"There's more," Phillips spoke solemnly, making Bucky listen, even as he kept pacing. "We believe Zola is there at the base."

Bucky stopped mid stride and rounded on Phillips. Steve took a small, surprised step forward. "How sure are you?" Steve asked, and Bucky stood, every muscle in his body frozen, as he waited for that answer.

"Reasonably. Schmidt knows we're getting close. He'll want to keep Zola where we can't get to him. Not to mention, Zola is a Swiss national."

Bucky clenched his fists again and Steve stood stone still.

"We want him alive," Phillips said, dropping the next bombshell.

Bucky swore under his breath and ran a hand through his hair in utter frustration, because of course they wanted him alive. It'd be to easy to just let Bucky shoot the man who had torn him open. No, he was going to live. "So now we have to do all that while getting a live prisoner and national out with us?"

"I understand taking Zola alive is not your preference, Sergeant, but the information he could give us would be invaluable in taking down Schmidt."

Bucky stiffened at that, because of course it wasn't his preference for Zola to live, but that was utterly beside the point, and a rather cheap shot. "It's not about preferences, Colonel. It's about what does and doesn't exist in the realm of possibility, and what you're asking doesn't."

Steve said nothing, but the fact that he wasn't disagreeing with Bucky spoke volumes.

"What if we could make it exist in the realm of possibility?" Peggy asked, drawing all of their attention. She'd been silent for the past few minutes.

"Well that depends," Bucky replied. "Can you?"

"The Red Orchestra," she replied.

"Gestapo name for German Resistance forces. We've worked with the Trepper Group in both France and Belgium," Steve replied immediately. "What about them?"

"You've worked with the Trepper group, yes, but there's also a group located in Berlin, and more importantly, there's the Lucy Spy Ring based in Switzerland."

Bucky kept his eyes glued on Peggy as Steve asked, "And you can get us in contact with them?"

"I'm in contact with some friends in MI6 who are trying. I can't make any guarantees, but it's looking promising."

Steve turned to Bucky, and Bucky gave him a look to show he was open to the idea. Not that it mattered; he'd follow Steve even if he didn't agree, and he had already, but it was always nicer when they were on the same page. Steve nodded and spoke, "If you can get us help from them, then this is doable. If they can move us through the country, we have a shot at this. If not, we're going to have to come up with something else. There's just no way we can move several hundred miles through Switzerland on our own without getting caught. There are too many variables. But if they can get us in and out, then that'll give us a shot."

"We probably won't even need them to get out," Bucky allowed. "If this is the weapons transportations hub the Colonel thinks it is, and if the Swiss really are turning a blind eye to whatever is going on up there, then we'll probably be able to commandeer Schmidt's transport on the way out."

Steve nodded, "Good point. We actually might be able to follow the trail to the next base. Make it a double header."

"Next base will probably be easier too," Bucky agreed.

Steve frowned and turned to Peggy and Phillips, "Because we can't fly over Swiss air space, we don't even have an exact location or even an idea of the size, do we?"

Peggy pursed her lips, "I'm talking to MI6 about that as well."

"MI6, huh?" Bucky asked. "Does that mean they've got spies in Switzerland?"

Peggy gave a little sigh, "We're operating under the assumption that everyone has spies in Switzerland, Sergeant. Including MI6, but especially the Germans."

Bucky nodded. It wasn't really surprising.

Peggy stepped forward and held a rolled up map out to Steve. "This has all the information we currently have on Switzerland as well as possible locations of Schmidt's base. I'll let you know as soon as we have new information from MI6. For now, perhaps you and the Sergeant can work on alternate routes in if we're unable to reach the Lucy Spy Ring."

Steve nodded, accepting the map, and after a rather pointed look from Agent Carter, in which Bucky could only assume there'd been plans to meet with Steve later, she left the conference room, leaving them to Phillips.

Phillips heaved a put upon sigh. "Do me a favor and try to keep your men out of as much trouble as possible. I don't need the extra paperwork you boys seem to bring."

"We'll do our best," Steve promised uselessly.

Phillips didn't look at all reassured, "Mhm. Sergeant Barnes, you are to report to Dr. Anderson for a checkup at 0900 tomorrow morning. You'll resume you're normal checkup schedule for the duration of your stay."

Bucky couldn't keep the scowl of his face, because it had been months and whenever the Commandos were at base, Phillips was still making Bucky get every other day checkups. He'd been hoping they'd let up with time, but it seemed over the past months that his levels had started to slowly, slowly change, and that was enough to keep the doctors interested in him. No one, but the doctors and Colonel Phillips, were aware of that though. Steve was under the impression it was still just a precautionary measure, and Bucky had no intention of telling him otherwise. Still, he could feel Steve radiating concern beside him, so he dropped the scowl, shook his head and tried to joke, "The man just can't get enough of me. But I get the feeling he only wants me for my body."

It was enough. Steve relaxed and snorted in amusement. Phillips just shook his head and said, "I'll leave you to it," before leaving them alone in the conference room.

Steve rolled out the map and they spent the next few minutes staring at it, taking in the information Peggy had laid out on the map.

"Do you think we can pull this off?" Steve asked after several minutes of silence. He abandoned staring at the map in favor of looking at Bucky. "Or are we walking right into a trap? If they allow Schmidt in, if they really look the other way, they won't take much notice of Schmidt moving a force through. We won't have any help, and we'll cause more than an international incident. It's possible they wouldn't even intern us. Depending on what Schmidt is giving them, they might just hand us over to him."

"I don't know. They'd have a hard time holding you long enough to give you to Schmidt," Bucky retorted. "Not to mention they're willing to do a lot to maintain their neutrality. Handing the greatest American hero to a maniac like Schmidt would definitely be a big step away from that."

"But they'd have the right after we violate their neutrality," Steve countered, but Bucky was shaking his head before he'd even finished.

"They'd have the right to intern us, not pas us over to Schmidt. But if Schmidt does have a line in the Swiss government, then they might just hand us over all nice and quiet and under the table with the U.S. government none the wiser."

"You think that's a big possibility?" Steve frowned.

"At this point I wouldn't exactly be surprised," Bucky admitted a little grumpily. "But we don't have a whole lot of options at this point, do we? We're going to have to risk it."

Steve looked him over and sighed.

"What?" Bucky asked, stiffening a little defensively.

Steve straightened and stuck his hands in his pockets. He leaned back against the table and gave Bucky a considering look, "Are you this grumpy because of our odds or is this about Zola?"

Bucky stiffened more and shot Steve a warning look; one that was very clearly saying, "End this line of questioning now."

Steve returned with his patented "I'm not impressed and I'm not backing down" look. The same one Bucky had been fighting against their entire lives, and his success rate was less than impressive. "Bucky," Steve said, in the matching tone of voice, and Bucky ran a frustrated hand through his hair because he couldn't hold up against Steve like this, and he didn't want to have this conversation.

"Steve," he warned, trying one last time to cut it off before it really began, but Steve characteristically didn't let up.

"Come on, Bucky. You haven't talked about it at all. It's just a question. Is this about the mission itself or is it about Zola? Talk to me."

Bucky grumbled in frustration and started pacing the small room again. "I don't know," he admitted, irritated. "Both, probably."

Steve asked seriously, "Do you think I should tell them no?"

Bucky stopped his pacing and rubbed at his face, "We don't really have that luxury, do we? And if this Spy Ring thing works out, we have a shot. Not a great shot, but it's a shot. There are just a lot more variables than I feel completely comfortable with, to be honest."

Steve nodded, "I agree with you there." They were silent for a minute and Bucky just knew Steve was working his way up to something else. He wasn't done yet. Sure enough, after another minute or so, he hesitantly began, "About Zola . . ." he trailed off pitifully and Bucky shot him an irritated look.

"What do you want me to say, Steve?" he asked impatiently. "No; I don't really want Zola taken alive? I'd prefer he died at the base? I'd really prefer to do it myself just so I can be sure he's never coming back?"

Steve looked sympathetic and pained, "I know, Buck. I'm sorry."

And again, Bucky couldn't stand in the face of that much emotion. His anger drained out of him and he sagged a bit. They stood in silence for a few minutes before Bucky spoke again. "What if he's an accidental casualty? Caught in the crossfire?" he asked with a little smirk to let Steve know that he was okay, and they were okay, and even though he wasn't happy with the mission and Zola, he'd follow Steve anyway.

Steve smirked in response, as usual understanding what Bucky wasn't saying. "Well if it was an accident, it was an accident. Nothing to be done."

Bucky smiled, "Exactly. I mean, a mission like this? We can't expect everything to go perfectly smooth, right?"

Steve nodded, "And it's not like they gave us a lot of room to work with."

"Barely any room at all," Bucky agreed. "Accidents happen."

Steve smirked, but it faded after a moment as he sobered a little. "Look, Buck . . . anything you need with this, just tell me. When it comes time to take in Zola, I'll do it. Unless you want to, then he's all yours. But if not, you don't even have to worry about it, okay? The rest of us will take care of it."

Bucky nodded, "Thanks, Steve. But we're probably getting ahead of ourselves anyway. Even if the Spy Ring does work out, we won't even know for sure if Zola will be there. He might not be."

Steve nodded and didn't push anymore, but he still looked more solemn than Bucky liked, so Bucky grinned and elbowed him in the ribs. "Hey, you wanna do me a favor?"

Steve's expression turned a little wary, but dropped that solemn look. "What kind of a favor?" he asked suspiciously.

Bucky smirked, "Don't worry. you'll like it. By now the boys have gotten their stipend for our two week stay on base. Why don't you help me clean them out in poker?"

Steve chuckled, amused, "That seems a bit cruel. Shouldn't we let them enjoy themselves before our "impossible" mission?"

Bucky shook his head and declared firmly, "It's for the greater good, Steve. If we limit their funds, we limit how roaring drunk they can get each night, which means I'll spend less time and money bribing the MPs and we won't be hauled off in front of a tribunal every other day to explain why a very drunk Dugan felt like the Command Center would make the perfect place to test Dernier's new explosives, and why instead of stopping it, we watched and took bets."

Steve snorted because that was exactly what had led to the scorch marks on the wall, only it had been the conference room and not the command center. Peggy had just barely managed to keep it from the reporters milling about (the brass didn't want that to be the Howling Commandos' reputation) and Bucky and Steve had gotten quite the dressing down from Phillips about the responsibilities of a NCO and CO. Apparently taking bets on the size of the explosion was not the proper response. Phillips, furthermore, didn't even care that Bucky had won the money fairly. Instead, he confiscated Bucky's prize money and used it to repair the damages, though some scorching on the brick remained. The other Commandos had shown very little sympathy towards his stolen prize money.

"Yeah, I'm not sure Phillips really thought this two weeks at base thing through. I don't know that we'll make it the two weeks before he kicks us out again. But what are your plans for their money once we have it?" And they would have it. That wasn't even a question at this point. They just had to buy the boys enough drinks to make them think playing poker was a good idea. Then they'd bleed them dry.

Bucky shrugged lightly, "Well I figure they'll find enough trouble without it. We make sure they get some food these next two weeks instead of just alcohol, then put most of in my bribing the MPs fund, then take a little extra for ourselves as service fees. I'm going to buy a bottle of black market Irish whiskey. And you can take Carter out on a proper date," he declared, snickering when Steve went a little pink.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's against the rules right now, with us being in the same division, and her technically being a fellow officer."

Bucky shrugged, unconcerned. "If anyone asks, you can say it was a meeting about HYDRA. I'm sure Carter will be up for it, what with that burning look she gave you before she left."

Steve went pinker, "Is there anything I can do to make you stop with the Peggy thing?" he fairly begged.

"Nope," Bucky grinned wide. "Now come on; let's go fleece the boys."

MI6 came through on the Lucy Spy Ring, and when their two weeks were up the Howling Commandos headed out towards the French-Swiss border. The Lucy Spy Ring was a small operation but, in the past few months, since the allies had taken full control of France, they'd been working with an underground railroad that was moving Jewish families out of Austria and Germany, through Switzerland, and into allied territory. Switzerland, along with being staunchly neutral, also had a no refugee police, unless they were political refugees with a specific threat against them and their family. Persecution based on race or religion did not grant one refugee status. As such, the hundreds of thousands of Jews who needed help were out of luck. Officially. But the underground railroad had been operating for some time, and the Lucy Spy Ring was a part of it, which meant they had a way in. All they had to do was follow the underground railroad, only backwards, and with members of the Lucy Spy Ring there with them, the members of the railroad were all too welcoming.

The only problem with the plan was that their movements were rather limited. In most cases they had to stay in one location for several days before their benefactors could arrange to move them to the next location. It made things slow going and it was difficult to radio into base. Not to mention they were in close quarters for long periods of time. The people helping them were kind, but being stashed in small rooms or small sheds with no windows was more than trying, especially when they were six full grown men and Captain America. They all had a ton of energy to burn off and no space in which to do it. They'd taken to huddling on one side of their small space so that there was room for one of them to workout at a time. It was the only way they could manage not to kill each other. Ten days in, and Bucky almost missed slogging through the mud up in northern Italy. Not to mention it was winter once more, and Bucky was very sick of being cold.

"This remind you of the winter we were nineteen?" Steve asked Bucky as they sat huddled shoulder to shoulder against the thin wooden walls of the shed they were currently staying in. There was a well hidden underground shelter they could all get into if any authorities came through, but the likelihood was slim, and there was no need to subject themselves to that if it wasn't totally necessary.

"The one where you got pneumonia twice and I spent months terrified you were going to die while we slept?" Bucky asked, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. On the other side of the room Morita, Dugan, and Falsworth were arguing. They kept their voices pitched low, but Bucky's hearing had only gotten better despite all the explosions Dernier subjected them to, and he knew they were arguing about Monty being stingy with his cigarettes, how much space Morita took up when he slept and how loudly Dugan snored. Basically, they'd all been in too close of quarters for too long, and even Jones' patience was wearing thin.

Steve gave a little chuckle, "Yeah, that would be the one."

"You're a lot less bony now, but the cold is definitely familiar," Bucky grumbled. Morita's voice grew louder and Bucky sighed as all three of them grew increasingly angry. To be honest, they'd fared better in captivity in Azzano then the past ten days in Switzerland. It was probably because they'd had a tangible, common enemy to focus their anger and frustration on, and very little energy at the end of the day. That was not the case now, though, and at this rate, a real fight would break out soon.

"The hunger is familiar too," Steve added. Their current benefactors were a small farming family who were trying to make their winter stores last, which meant food was stretched thin, which was also contributing to the impending fight across the shed.

Bucky couldn't tell who was going to throw the first punch, but he decided enough was enough. He grabbed one of his packs of cigarettes and tossed it to Morita. "Jim, have a smoke. You too, Dum Dum. And, Jim, move over there; you'll sleep on the other side of Dernier tonight. Jones go sit by Dernier and let Monty move over here for a bit," he directed sternly and was mollified a bit when all of them moved to do what he said without question. Steve looked mildly amused, as he always did when Bucky snapped everyone into line. Probably because he'd had years practicing on Steve, and Steve enjoyed seeing it done to someone else. At least the others seemed to settle though, and some of the tension left the room. Still, the situation was less than ideal and Bucky let out a sigh and asked Steve grumpily, "Why are we doing this again?"

"Because it's the right thing to do," Steve replied, making Bucky roll his eyes, and Steve added. "Or something like that. Too cold to remember right now."

Bucky snorted.

The next morning they got a good laugh when they woke up to see Morita and Dernier all cuddled up and draped over each other like puppies. After all these months, he only got the odd joke about cuddling with his sniper rifle every night, but there'd still been plenty of jokes for Bucky to fully enjoy his revenge. Morita was a bit annoyed but Dernier shrugged it off like it was nothing. Dernier tended to always snuggle up to everyone he slept near, but he was like that in general. Morita, while awake, was not particularly touchy, but he was one cuddly man when asleep, which was amusing to everyone given his cynical and often abrasive personality. Dugan slept like a solid, immobile, and very loud log. Jones and Morita moved about almost constantly in their sleep, which sometimes disturbed whoever was next to they. It also meant they both slept terrible when they were next to each other, because they kept bumping into each other in their sleep. Falsworth tended to sleep like he was lying in a coffin; on his back, hands by his sides, and utterly still. It was rather disturbing sometimes, but it made him easy to sleep by. Bucky slept with his rifle in his arms and shoulder to shoulder or back to back with Steve every night. They had no problem sleeping in confined spaces close together. They'd had years of growing up sleeping on couch cushions and fighting over covers to get used to it. They kept their limbs to themselves, but stayed back to back or shoulder to shoulder for warmth.

"Should we get you two a private room?" Bucky smirked down at them.

Morita shot him a grumpy look, but Dernier merely shrugged and muttered something in French. It'd been enough time that Bucky could understand the, "I wouldn't mind."

"You think we'll be getting breakfast this morning?" Jones asked wistfully.

Steve's expression turned forlorn as he admitted, "I don't know."

Bucky frowned briefly. It was hard on all of them, but Steve's metabolism moved much faster than theirs and if they were all hungry he must have been starving.

"We might have a time of it if we have to take the base on empty stomachs like this," Dugan remarked.

"Especially because we can't just blow it all to hell and run," Bucky agreed. "We have to actually take it if we want to find any information on that other base or Zola."

"That sounds pretty impossible, Sarge," Jones remarked seriously.

"Sure does," Bucky agreed.

"I've been thinking a lot about this," Steve spoke. "And I think it's doable."

Bucky kept his mouth closed, even when his first instinct was to grumble about how of course Steve thought it was doable. He thought infiltrating a base on his own was doable. But he kept his mouth shut, because he would always back Steve in front of the men, or really in front of anyone. It wasn't until they were alone that Bucky would let Steve know exactly what he thought about his plans.

"Obviously we can't plan the particulars just yet," Steve allowed. "We don't even know where the base. For all we know, we might have already passed it. Until the Ring gets back to us with what they've found, we can only generalize. So here's my general plan," he said looking at all of them. "We're going to do this in two parts. We'll have the advantage here. Schmidt and Zola will think there's no way we can get to this base. They won't be expecting us. And this place is operating as a scientific research facility so it's possible they won't have the same amount of troops on hand as the rest. That's not a definite, but it is possible. Bucky and I will go in first, in stealth. We'll plant Dernier's charges, but we'll also look for Zola and information on that seventh base. Dernier and Morita, you'll be in charge of getting us transport out. Dernier speaks French and he can pass for Swiss. You'll probably need to steal uniforms. Falsworth, Dugan, and Jones, you all will be waiting out of sight, but in firing range so if any of us need to make a quick escape, you'll be there for cover fire."

"Any reason our resident sniper isn't the one covering our asses?" Morita asked.

Bucky already knew the reason and answered, "Because these three aren't all that great in the stealth department, and you and Dernier are the ones who can hot wire our getaway vehicle,"

Steve nodded in agreement, "Buck's the best bet on stealth."

Bucky nodded, proud. He'd been stealthy as a sniper, but he'd only gotten better over the months, and he'd even managed to sneak up on Steve once or twice, which was no mean feat with his super soldier hearing.

Morita nodded, "Fair enough."

"Ideally Bucky and I will find Zola or the location of that base, then we'll meet up with Dernier and Morita who will hopefully have been able to pass for HYDRA and get us a ride, then we'll pick you three up and get on the road before setting off the charges. If things don't go according to plan, we'll do the same thing; just with a lot more shooting involved," Steve spoke and the others snorted.

"It's a good thing those HYDRA goons wear those helmeted uniforms or else passing for HYDRA would cause a problem," Morita remarked making the others snort.

The door opened, and Bucky snatched up his rifle automatically before realizing it was just the man and woman whose farm they were staying on. Steve quirked an eyebrow at him but Bucky just shrugged. Steve had had plenty of time to get used to his paranoia by now. To the farmer's credit, he didn't even looked fazed by Bucky's reaction. Instead, he just moved to the center of the crowded shed and placed down a large steaming pot of porridge. The woman placed seven bowls and spoons beside it and spoke in German. Jones translated.

"She says eat it while it's hot," Jones said before replying to her gratefully. They made quick work of passing round the bowls and spoons and Steve distributed an even amount to all of them until the pot was empty. Bucky rolled his eyes behind his back when he realized Steve hadn't given himself any extra, even though he needed more than all of them.

The man handed Steve a map and spoke.

"That's from our mutual friends," Jones translated. "Looks like they finally got a location for us. Also he's going to take us to our next location tonight."

Steve thanked the man profusely, and in fairly decent German and the woman promised to bring them sandwiches later that afternoon. They scarfed down their porridge and while Steve was distracted, Bucky managed to get a good amount of his into Steve's bowl. When Jones and Morita passed him the remnants of theirs, Bucky managed to get that in there as well. It was pretty easy while Steve was distracted by the map, and Steve didn't seem to notice when the amount of porridge in his bowl increased several times.

"We're not too far off," Steve spoke, showing them the base on the map. Their new comrades had thoughtfully included a wealth of information about the base and Bucky wondered whether it came from MI6, the spy ring or both. "And it looks like there are less forces here than at other bases we've been to. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if Schmidt moved forces from here to other bases to fortify them."

"Too bad it didn't work, huh?" Morita grinned.

"Too bad," Steve agreed lightly. "Whenever we get there, we'll watch it for a few days, refine the plan, come up with contingencies, and then we'll move. When we move out, we'll cross the border into Italy through the mountains. Our friends have even marked several good routes for us to take.

"Well that was thoughtful of them," Bucky remarked.

"Stark can pick us up in Italy," Steve continued. "Any questions?"

There were none and within the next four days Bucky was once again, up in a tree, watching the base through his snipers scope.

"Mountains. Why is it always mountains?" Dugan complained on the ground below him. "Why can't we infiltrate a base on a beach somewhere, huh? Enjoy the sun for a change."

Bucky ignored him and stayed focused on the guards he was clocking. "Tell Steve I've got us a way in. Dernier and Morita too," he called to Dugan below him. Steve was right. These people weren't exactly the height of vigilance. Bucky swept his scope over every inch of the base three times, looking for any sign that Zola was there. There were none, of course, but that didn't mean Zola wasn't hiding in there somewhere. His jaw clenched at the thought. Just the idea of being so close to Zola again made him want to shoot someone.

"Cap said good job and we're going in tonight, so get down here and let's get back to the others," Dugan called from below him, shaking him from his thoughts.

"Good, cause I don't think I could take another night out here with no fire," Bucky declared as he moved down the tree.

"You're telling me, Jimmy," Dugan declared, making Bucky growl on reflex. They moved quickly through the snow until they were back with the others. Steve had already drawn a basic sketch of the base and Bucky quickly filled them in on the guards.

"These guys aren't expecting anything," he confirmed. "There are only four walking the perimeter. Two on the ground and two on the second level. They walk their rounds, but there's a two minute gap on the north side where no one is visible and a minute and a half gap on the south side where they store the vehicles."

Steve turned to Morita and Dernier, "You two go in through that gap, take out the first two guards you see, stash them where they won't be found quickly, and take their uniforms. Then get us a truck and move to the north side. Bucky and I will come to you, hopefully with Zola. Then we'll pick up the others and get out of here. Everyone clear?"

Everyone agreed and they settled in to wait for darkness, several of them lying down for naps. Bucky knew he could probably use one, but as it got closer and closer to evening, he felt more and more restless. Zola was possibly in there, and if he was, Bucky would be facing him soon. It made his hand twitch towards his rifle. It made him sick.

It didn't take long for Steve to catch on to Bucky's ever darkening mood. He left him alone for all of five minutes before he stood and jerked his head towards the trees. Bucky sighed but followed him. Steve waited until they were a decent distance away and well out of earshot before he asked, "You going to be okay?"

Bucky took a bracing breath. "Yeah. I'll be okay."

"You're not going to shoot him, are you?" Steve asked giving Bucky an assessing look. It wasn't the look of Steve the friend asking Bucky if he were alright, like the last question. This was the look of Steve the CO trying to determine whether his NCO was going to be a liability on the mission. He was looking at Bucky like needed to know if he needed to take him off the infiltration part of the mission and have him cover their asses instead.

Bucky sighed and answered honestly. "I promise I'll try not to." That was all he could give.

Steve nodded, accepting it and turning back into Steve the friend once more. "You want to talk about it?"

Bucky snorted because he really didn't want to talk about it. But the maddening feeling of his body trying to claw its way out of his own skin wasn't going to go away if he just sat there and moped about it. There were a lot of things he could say and probably needed to say. He could talk about how in the middle of the night, when he jerked awake from nightmares he was afraid that Zola would come back, that he'd get his hands on Bucky once more. He could talk about how Bucky still didn't know what the man had done to him when he cut him open, and how the scar wasn't even very visible anymore, and how that was one of the reasons the doctors still insisted on seeing him as frequently as possible when they were in London. He could talk about what Zola took from him, how he was a different man after Azzano and that table. Bucky had changed. He didn't know what Zola had done to him, but he felt different than he had before the table. Not just mentally, but physically too. The others knew it, and Steve definitely knew it. He was different, and Bucky didn't know how different, and that was a pretty terrible feeling, not knowing all the ways he had changed. It made him feel that much further from the man he'd been before. Worst of all though, was the feeling that he was living on borrowed time. After all these months, he still felt like he was running from something, and whatever it was, it was catching up to him.

He could have told Steve any of that, but all he said was, "I really want to shoot him, Steve." It pretty much got the impression across anyway.

"I know, Buck," Steve said empathetically, though Bucky didn't think Steve had ever wanted to shoot anyone in his life. Still, he didn't begrudge Bucky the desire to put a bullet through Zola's head, and Bucky appreciated that.

Steve then smirked and added lightly, "Hey, if you ask Dernier nicely, he might let you push the button to send the place up in flames."

Bucky snorted, "Fat chance. That's Dernier's favorite part."

Steve shrugged, "I don't know. You give him those big mopey eyes of yours, and I'm willing to bet he'll give in. Bet you the last of my chocolate bar."

"And what do I have to give you in return?"

"The rest of your cigarettes. I need to barter them for Morita's coffee grounds."

Bucky snorted, "Fine. You're on."

They moved back to the others and waited for darkness to fall. When it was finally time, Bucky moved silently with Steve through the shadows. For being so bulky, Steve wasn't bad at stealth. Bucky was better though, and he had the instincts for it. Or maybe it was just that Bucky had a lifetime to get used to his body and Steve had only had the last two years. Despite that, Steve wasn't bad and they moved quickly through the base.

The first guard they came across spotted them before they could get out of sight, and Bucky quickly dove forward and stabbed his knife into the man's neck before he could alert anyone else. He kept his knife in the man's neck, so he wouldn't leave a blood trail to alert any guards, and looped his other arm around him before dragging him over to a door Steve opened. Bucky dropped him out of sightline from the open door and only then removed the knife, which allowed the blood to flow more freely.

"I could have used my shield," Steve remarked, grimacing slightly at the body.

Bucky shook his head, "Too loud." He then pulled one of the charges from his bag and dropped it on the body.

"Maybe we should take the next one alive so we can interrogate him," Steve remarked thoughtfully.

"Good idea, but let's make it a scientist," Bucky replied. "They're more likely to crack. We don't have time to fully interrogate a guard."

Steve nodded his agreement and led the way out again. They continued to move down the corridors, periodically placing charges out of sight as they did so. The next guard they came across, Steve put in a sleeper hold that he wouldn't wake up from. They hid him out of sight like they did the last one and continued on. Eventually they reached a lab with Zola's name on it.

Bucky clenched his hands into fists to hide their slight shaking.

"You ready for this?" Steve asked quietly.

"No," Bucky replied.

Steve silently opened the door and they slipped inside. It was empty aside from a man in a white coat. A man in a white coat who wasn't Zola.

"Put your hands up," Steve spoke firmly, gun raised.

The man jumped and spun around, hands immediately going up. Bucky's jaw clenched as every muscle in his body pulled tight. He recognized this scientist. He'd been one of the ones assisting Zola in Azzano.

"You!" the man gasped fearfully and took a shaky step back when he saw him.

"Yeah. Me," Bucky growled darkly.

"Sit," Steve ordered, gesturing to a chair briefly with his gun. "You scream or in anyway alert anyone to our presence here, and I'll let Sergeant Barnes shoot you."

"You should let me shoot him anyway," Bucky remarked. Steve gave a little shrug.

The scientist dropped heavily into the chair, hands still up, and very clearly afraid. "Please, don't kill me," he begged. He was looking at Steve, but he kept glancing fearfully at Bucky who just scowled at him. He'd helped Zola torture him. He'd dug those electrodes in under Bucky's skin, he'd wrenched his head to the side so Zola could jab needles into his neck. He'd stood there and taken notes while Bucky screamed. Bucky very much wanted to kill him.

"Where's Zola?" he asked instead.

"Dr. Zola? He isn't here! He's in Germany! He isn't here!" Bucky didn't think he was lying. He looked too openly terrified for that.

"How long will he be in Germany?" Steve asked.

"He leaves tomorrow. He's supposed to be coming back here by train, but he's stopping in Austria first. He'll back here in two days."

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look before Steve asked, "Where's the base you ship all your weapons too? Where's Schmidt's main base?"

The man's eyes widened in terror, "What? I don't—I don't know! Please don't kill me, I don't know!"

"How can you not know?" Bucky demanded angrily.

"I've never been there. Only Zola has."

"But the weapons are shipped there. How can you not know?" Steve asked impatiently.

"I don't! I'm a scientist, not an engineer. I was never involved in the weapons building. I was only involved in the . . ." he paused and glanced at Bucky fearfully.

"In the science experiments?" Bucky demanded harshly. "Like me?" He didn't say anything, but the answer was obvious. "So what you're telling us is that you're useless," Bucky spoke, raising his gun.

The man's eyes nodded, "What? No! I—"

Steve stepped forward, and struck him in the side of the head. His head dropped back against the chair as he lost consciousness.

"Steve," Bucky protested, but Steve met his gaze firmly. "The blast will kill him. You don't need to."

"Yeah, but I want to," Bucky protested.

Steve didn't waver, "Exactly." Bucky glared but Steve didn't flinch and Bucky knew he wasn't about to back down on this. "We're wasting time, Bucky," he said calmly. "We need to place the rest of these charges and get out of here."

"What about Zola? What about the base?"

"We know where Zola's going to be. He'll know where to find the base," Steve said firmly. "Now come on. Let's leave the charges and go meet with the others."

Bucky glared at Steve uselessly for two more seconds before he gave in. "Fine," he huffed, putting a charge on the table. "But I'm not happy about it."

"Course not," Steve agreed, checking the hall before ushering him out. "But, if you ask Dernier nicely, you can blow the place and I'm sure that will help you feel better."

"It better," Bucky muttered grumpily.

Steve grinned at him.

They made quick work of evenly distributing the charges throughout most of the base. The rest they clustered in the weapons storage, ensuring they'd get a big enough explosion to take the whole place down. The had to take out a few more guards as they made their way back to the Northern side of the base, but no one had the chance to raise the alarm, and when they walked out the door Morita and Dernier were waiting with the truck.

"No Zola?" Morita asked as they jumped in. Dernier stayed in the driver's seat in case they were stopped by anyone. He was the only who could pass as Swiss.

"No, but we know where he'll be," Steve declared. "Come on. Let's go get the others."

No one thought anything was out of the ordinary as they left the base and just up the road. Dugan, Jones, and Monty jumped in the truck, Dugan complaining about the lack of action. Dernier immediately put the car in motion once more.

"It does feel rather anticlimactic," Monty agreed.

"Well let's fix that," Morita declared. "Frenchie, you gonna blow the place?"

He responded in French, but Bucky understood, "In a minute."

"Wanna let me do it?" Bucky asked, trying to keep the tension out of his voice. He still felt incredibly high strung.

Dernier glanced over his shoulder, took one look at Bucky's face, and nodded. "Okay." He drove a mother minute to make sure they were far enough from the blast radius, then they all climbed out of the truck. Dernier handed Bucky the detonator.

"So what's the plan?" Monty asked Steve. "No Zola, but did you at least find out where that base is?"

"No," Steve replied. "But we know where Zola's going to be. In two days he's going to be on a train from Austria back here. We're going to intercept him.

"In Austria?" Jones asked.

Steve nodded, "Yep."

"Before he gets on the train?" it was Monty this time.

"Nope," Steve replied, popping the p.

Bucky gave a flat look as he realized, "On the train?"

"Yep."

Dugan grinned, "I like it."

"I don't," Monty replied.

"Of course you don't. You never like the fun plans," Morita retorted.

"We have two days," Steve replied. "Two days to study the track and find the best way to get on that train. We'll talk with base, they'll have us an exit strategy. We'll grab Zola, get out and go."

"And how exactly are we going to get on the train?" Bucky asked.

"Off the top of my head? I'm thinking zip line."

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle, "We'll we've done stupider."

"But how do we get off?" Morita asked with a thoughtful frown.

"I haven't gotten to that part yet. Maybe just take control of the train and walk off?" Steve guessed.

"Let's do it," Dugan declared. "We get Zola and we'll be halfway to Schmidt."

The others agreed readily and Bucky nodded along with them. It was a terrible idea. The same kind of terrible they pulled off all the time. It was the same kind of terrible that had gotten them their reputation in the first place. There were a million ways it could go wrong and he had a terrible feeling about it, but this place would be crawling with Swiss soldiers by sunup and they had a better shot of getting to Zola in Austria, even if it was enemy territory. Besides, Steve was right. Intercepting the train was their only feasible option, as there was no way they could move freely through an Austrian town to stop Zola before he boarded. Still, it was a terrible idea.

He shook off the thoughts and held up the detonator, deciding they could all do with a massive explosion, "You boys ready for this?"

"Hell yeah! Blow it to hell!" Dugan declared, gripping his shoulder.

"Fuck you, Zola," Bucky declared, pressing the button. There was a pause and then suddenly, dozens of explosions ripped through the base, shaking the ground beneath their feet, even from the distance they all stood.

The others let out huge cheers as the flames leapt up into the sky as the explosions continued. Bucky grinned fiercely and felt a deep sort of satisfaction as the place burned. He hoped Zola lost every bit of his work.

Steve moved beside him as the others yelled, clapped and cheered. He grinned wide and with no small touch of excitement declared, "We're going to hijack a train. You ready for this?"

Bucky grinned, "Not even close."

Steve chuckled, "Well get ready. I want you there with me."

Bucky laughed and tossed his arm over Steve's huge shoulders, "Come on, Steve; you know I'd follow you anywhere."

Steve beamed and Bucky rolled his eyes and shook his head. He'd follow Steve anywhere, to hell and back, to the end of the line, for better or worse, until whatever it was that was chasing him finally caught up to him. He stood there, watching the place burn to the ground, Dugan and Dernier singing one of their loud victory songs, Monty, Jones, and Morita smoking celebratory cigarettes, and Steve standing beside him, grinning like he was on top of the world. As Bucky watched them, a slimy, sickening feeling settled into his gut. He watched them all and felt a growing sense of foreboding. He could feel it; their luck running out. Or his luck running out. Whatever was chasing him was catching up. He only hoped he had more time. He needed more time.

Two days later, he was falling from a train. He didn't have more time.