Certainty (A Bucky Barnes Fanfic)

━◦○◦3.3: The Winter Soldier◦○◦━

episode 3 - The Power Broker

Shamara's bangles clicked together as she walked down the Madripoor bridge, half-listening to Sam's complaints. Their group looked bizarre, to say the least. Zemo in his leather coat, Bucky in his alternate uniform, Sam dressed like an African crime boss, and Shamara hidden under drapes of fabric. It was almost reassuring to be veiled as she walked towards the unfamiliar city. Her heels clicked on the pavement, as did Sam's. She looked over her shoulder, her heart pounding hard.

"Let me guess," Sam stopped before a car. "We have no friends in High Town."

Shamara didn't miss Zemo's silence. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. He is not subtle as he thinks he is. She slid into the car beside Bucky and took his hand without thinking. Gripping hard.

"You hot?" he asked, moving closer.

"Now that you mention it. But it's not bad when I am focused," Shamara leaned against him.

"Shay, only speak Arabic, please," Zemo instructed as they drove, and motorcycles joined them.

Shamara cleared her throat, switching languages, "I don't know why you think Arab Royalty wouldn't know English."

"Very good. Now, Conrad, do you mind translating?" Zemo looked over his shoulder.

So either he didn't speak Arabic, or he was decidedly pretending he didn't.

"She said most royalty speak English," Sam roughly translated.

"Not necessarily. Most Middle Eastern elite women who come here are set in their beliefs on how their positions are the . . . center of the world. They can hire any of the translators they want; why bother learning any other language?" Zemo looked back at them in the mirror. "I should mention that Selby knows Arabic, though it is unlikely she will speak it to you."

"So I should -. Sorry," Shamara cleared her throat, switching back to Arabic. "Am I just to be careful then?"

"Yeah, I think he just means be cautious," Sam said in English.

This was going to be confusing.

They drove through Madripoor. The city stretched above them, neon lights sparkling in the darkness. Crowds of people filled the streets as they made their way to a strange garage and parked. Zemo got out of the car. Shamara looked at Bucky. She tightened her grasp on his hand, even as his face changed.

"You are human, Bucky. No matter how horribly they or even I have to talk about you," Shamara hissed in a breath.

All the memories of how she had been talked around even as a teenager weighed on her shoulders. She couldn't believe he was doing this. Not after his therapy sessions had been revoked, not after breaking Zemo out. Shamara knew it was going to take more of a toll than even he expected.

"Say what you must, Shay. I'm used to it," Bucky opened his door.

Shamara groaned, switching back to Arabic, "That makes it worse."

"Which way?" Sam ignored them and faced Zemo.

Zemo didn't bother answering. He simply led them onto a staircase, into the upper life of Madripoor. Noise and smells surrounded Shamara as they walked over the neon lights and technological wonders. As Zemo had said, there seemed to be nearly every type of person possible around and below them. The majority of them, however, were heavily tattooed with defined muscles and openly bearing weapons. Low Town must have been the place for the less sophisticated criminals, but no one looked like the typical street thief. There was an element of superiority to the whole town, despite a neon grunge feel. And smell.