Fireworks: A Bucky Barnes Romance

Chapter 7

Sam and Sarah sat about three feet across from one another at the bottom of a metal cylinder. If felt like sitting at the bottom of cistern or well, and the rust-colored cylindrical walls stretched upward above their heads about thirty feet. A patch of blue could be seen at the top, and an oval of sunlight was working its way up the inside as the sun moved past its zenith.

It was stiflingly hot inside. If the top of it had not been open, Sarah felt sure she would have suffocated already. The sides and back of her shirt was soaked with sweat, and Sam didn't look much better, though you couldn't really see sweat marks on his Captain America suit.

There was a plastic gallon of water between them. Occasionally, Sandhurst would release one of them long enough to take a drink. Sarah supposed she should be thankful he didn't want them to die here.

She was not.

Ironically, they were within feet of rescue. The cylinder they were locked into was actually a public art installation on the campus of the University of Houston.

Sandhurst had gotten them here and marched them straight to it, not even trying to keep them hidden. He himself stayed on the roof of the auditorium nearby, in the shade of several huge pine trees. He'd used his discs to send the two of them down. When a few students had looked at Captain America, Sandhurst had even managed to make Sam flash an awkward thumbs up.

The art installation looked like a silver tower with leaf-shape cutouts, showing an inner copper tube. A UH maintenance woman unlocked the small door in it.

Sarah had spotted a small disc just below the color of her red UH uniform shirt. She'd handed them the water and locked them in.

That had been about an hour ago.

Sarah shifted her weight. She and Sam had found at certain times, with a lot of focus, they could talk in whispers.

"His control vacillates," Sam said now. He opened his mouth wide and rolled his neck. "I think this is a down swing."

Sarah stretched her jaw and found she could even stretch her arms above her head. She fluttered her shirt, getting some airflow to her sweaty skin. But when she tried to rise, her legs didn't respond at all. "So it has something to do with his attention."

She tried to yell, but only a strangled squeak came out. "Ugh!"

"I know." He took a long draught of water. "We're going to figure this out. But what I can't figure out is his plan. The president was speaking here, sure, but with this going down, they'll cancel. Why let us catch up to you?"

"He wanted to get a disc on you."

"I know. But once he did—and people know about it—I'm out of play. The secret service will shoot me outta the sky before I get close to him. Heck, they're probably happy for the excuse."

Sarah smiled faintly, though it wasn't funny. "But can't you—dodge bullets and all? What kinda Captain America are you?"

"I could probably get close." He subsided into silence again. They could hear the foot traffic picking up as classes ended and students began flowing around campus.

"You remember Marcus and Tracy?" Sarah asked. "They moved to Houston after Katrina. Their daughter came back after the snap. She's at UH this year."

He nodded. "Cass thinking about college yet?"

She snorted. "Nah. He just wants to make the first string on his basketball team for seventh grade. He's hoping for a growth spurt like you had at that age."