Sebastian Stan & Bucky Barnes Imagines

Familiar Faces: Part Six - J.B.B./W.S.

Hey guys! 👋🏻 I'm really sorry you guys had to wait so long for an update. I needed to edit this one more than I realized, and I was quite unmotivated to finish that editing up. Also school has kept me pretty busy.

As a side note, perhaps I should have had someone read through this part and give me a second opinion to make sure it hits the way it needs to, but oh well. You guys can help me with that, right? 😊 As always, I'd appreciate your constructive feedback, and I really hope you enjoy the second-to-last part in the Familiar Faces series. Happy reading!

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After making some arrangements and building the team, Rogers found us a getaway car, and we began the drive to the airport.

I'm not normally one to get nervous before a mission, but the closer we get to Siberia, the more shaken I feel...

As I stare blankly out the car window, the white clouds begin to blur to a whiteout. The bone-chilling temperatures seep into my core, the wind bites what little of my skin is exposed. The gun in my hands, like the snow beneath my stomach, is ice-cold, but I don't tremble. I'm hardly bothered by it. All my attention is on the target 4,560 meters away. I can barely make it out due to the snow constantly blowing and the mountain peak it is almost hidden by. I look in the scope, carefully take my aim...and shoot.

I watch through the scope to see the bullet hit the target a few inches to the right of the bullseye.

"< Again >," the sniper instructor tells me as he stands next to me, looking at the target with large binoculars.

I aim again, recalculating my adjustments, then take another shot.

Closer, but no cigar.

"< Again. >"

I take my aim, recalculate, shoot.

"< Again. >"

Aim, recalculate, shoot.

It's a perfect hit.

"< Again. >"

Aim. Recalculate. Shoot.

Hit.

"< Again. >"

Aim. Recalculate. Shoot.

Hit.

"< Again. >"

I hold back a growl and the intense desire to throttle him.

Aim. Recalculate. Shoot.

Dead hit, right through the hole I made previously.

He made me continue this process until it was too dark to see. It was monotonous work, but at least it got me out of the base. Any chance I got to escape those walls was a small blessing.

"< Good,>" my instructor said after I made my last shot. "<It's dinner time. At 21:00, you have your first session of night training. >"

I begin to push myself up from the snowy ground to head inside, but a boot on my back forces me down. My anger flares, but I refrain from looking up at the man and remain frozen in place.

"< Not so fast. Wait for your escorts. >"

It's then I hear the crunch of snow beneath several pairs of boots coming up from behind me. Gloved hands grab my arms in several places as the sniper instructor removes his boot from my back. They lift me up to stand and walk me back toward the base.