A/N: I hate to start a story when I haven't finished it, but I hate to disappoint my fans, too. This will be at least three parts, possibly four or five, depending on how I break it up. This is set between Winter Soldier and Age of Ultron, just before my In Between Time series. I would have put it in there, but this story wanted multiple chapters and a cliffhanger. The story wants what the story wants.

Ambushes and Other Plants

The information-gathering mission was supposed to be a cakewalk. Natasha Romanoff's information led Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson to an abandoned SHIELD base in the wilds of Alaska. All indications were the base had been more use to Hydra than to SHIELD, so they hoped to find information about the Winter Soldier.

Steve was reluctant to get the Avengers (aka Tony Stark) involved in his personal quest to find his best friend, so Sam used his own connections. There was a pilot at Eilson Air Force Base outside Fairbanks that owed his life to Sam. All Sam asked was an unscheduled flight over the Hydra facility. Air Force helos did training in that area all the time, so a helicopter passing by at night shouldn't set off any alarms, if anyone was still in the base. No one was expected, however. Satellite surveillance hadn't shown any signs of life.

With a sigh for his trashed Falcon wings, Sam hit the ground and rolled, gathering up his parachute. Steve was just a few yards away, wadding up his chute in as tight a bundle as possible and stashing it under a crowberry bush.

"I thought Romanoff told me you don't use a chute," Sam joked.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Only over water, pal," he answered. His feet squelched in the soggy, mossy ground of the summer tundra. "Though this ground is almost wet enough to qualify."

"That's Alaska in the summer," said Sam, who had done some training there while he was in the Air Force. "A short night, squishy ground and mosquitos the size of F-16s."

A cloud of mosquitoes each a full inch in size hovered around the two men, repelled a mere two inches by heavy doses of insect repellent. It was like wearing a suit of buzzing armor. The temptation to slap them away from your face was nearly irresistible.

"If a mosquito bites you, will it lay Super Soldier eggs?" Sam asked curiously.

"They can't bite through my skin," Steve replied. "At least the ones in Europe couldn't. Not sure about these monsters."

A faint green aurora borealis and a few stars offered dim light, as the two friends walked cautiously toward the entrance to the underground base. There was no cover, just mossy ground and sparse berry bushes less than a foot high. But there was no sign of life beyond the mosquitoes and a curious ground squirrel watching from its hole.

"I'm reading a faint electrical signature," Steve reported, checking a handheld scanner. "The base has been powered down, but it's still live."

"Maybe we can get something off the computers," Sam said.

Steve hesitated.

"What?" Sam asked.

"My last experience with Hydra computers wasn't the best," Steve said, but started forward again.

They had to pry the entrance door open. Inside, the corridor was dim, lit only by emergency lighting. The only sound was their footsteps echoing on the concrete floor, but Steve was beginning to get an itchy feeling, as though he'd missed something.

Natasha's information had included a map to the main computer room. The men entered and Sam felt a gun barrel press against his neck. Armed guards stepped into view, surrounding them.

"There wasn't any dust," Steve realized.

"Excellent, captain," a voice said sarcastically. "A little slow, but on the mark eventually." The speaker was a gray-haired man, dressed in an expensive dark suit. With him was a middle-aged man dressed in a white lab coat, accompanied by a younger lab tech carrying medical equipment.

The scientist looked over his glasses at Steve, as if studying a specimen. His attitude made Sam's skin crawl.

The leader must have seen something in Steve's posture. "Be very careful, captain. Mr. Wilson is a hostage for your good behavior. He will remain unharmed as long as you follow instructions."

"Don't worry about me, Steve," Sam said, as his guards relieved him of his weapons and cellphone.

"Really, Mr. Wilson, you've been such a help already," the leader said in an irritatingly superior manner. "We still have supporters in the U.S. military, so we kept an eye on your friends. We knew you were coming here before you did. We reactivated the base just for you and the captain."

"Very kind of you," Sam said with bravado. "We only thought we'd find information here. We didn't realize we'd get to take down an entire base."

"Very clever. I'm sure your bravery will be a comfort to the captain while we conduct our experiments. It's so exciting to have a Super Soldier as a subject. Restrain him," he ordered his guards.

The men stepped forward to grab Steve. He moved with that swiftness that was so unexpected, not to free himself, but to free Sam. Steve caught the chief scientist by his coat and heaved him across the room, into Sam's guards. Sam started toward his friend, but Steve met his eyes with a ferocious glare.

"Run!" the captain ordered and the unarmed airman obeyed.

Sam plunged at the only guard between him and the door the scientists had come through. The guard made the mistake of raising his gun, while Sam just threw his entire body at the guard, in a move that would have gotten him banned from any football game. Sam bowled the guard over and, grabbing his collar, slammed the man's head into the ground. The rolling move hardly slowed Sam down. He lunged out the door before he was fully erect. One bullet hit the wall above his shoulder, but the raging Super Soldier distracted the rest of the troop. No one pursued Sam, as they piled on Cap.

"We need him alive!" the leader declared. "Don't hurt him!" He stood back, keeping well away from the struggle in the middle of the room.

"Hurt him!" a guard howled, as the Super Soldier snapped his ankle like a twig.

"Kill him and I'll kill you," the leader promised. "But some damage is acceptable," he acknowledged.

The guards redoubled their efforts, using stun batons, truncheons and fists to try to subdue Steve. The assistant scientist danced anxiously on the sideline, holding a huge hypodermic, waiting for an opening.

Ignoring the turmoil, the leader walked to the chief scientist, who lay against the wall with his neck bent at an unhealthy angle. He was sprawled on top of the unconscious guard who had held the gun to Sam's head.

"Irritating," the leader growled. "Now I have to find someone else to do the experiments." He kicked the dead scientist, then kicked the unconscious guard for good measure, and walked out as if a pitched battle wasn't continuing behind him. He spoke into a radio, ordering troops to find Sam and to help the idiots in the lab subdue Captain America.

Sam heard the alarm go out to find him. He jogged through the dimly lit corridor, looking for a way out or at least a dark corner where his dark clothes and skin would blend in. This wasn't the way he and Steve had come in, so he was making turns at random. The only thing saving him at the moment, was that the base was half-staffed, and most of the guards were trying to restrain Steve.

Sam paused at an intersection, trying to figure out which way to go. Behind him, a door slid open silently. Two powerful arms grabbed him. One covered his mouth. The other pinned his arms to his body and lifted his feet off the ground. Hoisted on his attacker's hip like a toddler, Sam couldn't get any traction. He kicked and squirmed violently, but couldn't get free from the iron grip. From the …

Sam's eyes flicked down to see a glint of metal. His eyes flashed up to catch a glimpse of a pale face framed by long, lank, dark hair.

Sam Wilson closed his eyes and commended his soul to God. He was in the clutches of the Winter Soldier.

To Be Continued