Secretive - Bucky Barnes

50 || Second Face

The image above the chapter is another one than usual; there to give you an image of the suit, the mask, L'Étrat, the outside of the hotel and some aesthetics // the suit art is not by me, but by the incredibly talented @/earths.angxl (Tiktok), and it is only there to give you an idea, but is not entirely accurate to the one mentioned in her (you'll learn why ;) )

[Nova]
The flight from Catania to Verona takes less than two hours. Luckily, Tony does not seem all too mad with me and my methods, because there already are cab drivers waiting for us outside the airport. After securing their reliability by them saying some kind of safe password to Cap, we get in, and find ourselves thirty minutes later in one of the most high-ranked hotels in the region; Opera Relais de Charme. Apparently, he expected us to stay a little longer: every one of us gets an own apartment, whyever Stark things we are in need of it.

I cannot speak for the others, but mine is, admittedly, beautiful. Never thought purple was one of my favourite colours, but in this accommodation, it is placed perfectly. The room is long; when I first open the door, I directly can see the entrance to a small balcony in Mediterranean style. In front of it, there is a white, round table with four chairs, and to the wall on my right, a highly modern kitchen. To my left, there is a white couch with three seats, cushions in purple as the two filtered pictures above it. Further on the left side, there is an entryway to the sleeping room, with a white, double sized bed on a purple wall, and left, there is a dark grey, also very modern bath with a tub and a shower.

If James would be here, too, it almost would feel like vacation. The hotel is even only circa three hundred and fifty metres from centre, so we could simply walk to any sight or restaurant or whatever.

But he is not.

And what I am here for is far from any kind of relaxation.

Sighing, I push my suitcase into the bedroom, wishing I had my black suit still. It is dark outside, and how would someone recognize my presence when I am part of the night itself?

But clothes in the same shade will have to do. After I closed all curtains, checked everything for bugs and little cameras and am surprised by the cleanness of the apartment, even below the mattress and nightstands neatly, I roll the eyes out on the small glass shelf underneath the mirror in the bathroom, and change into a black legging and a black hoodie of mine. It is only then that someone knocks on my door, leaving me satisfied with not having the slightest race of heart by shock.

When on mission, I need full control of my body all the time, of every organ and every inch of skin. Good to know it still works, no matter how much it has been proven during the last days.

»Room service!« a voice shouts from outside, young and female.

I tiptoe to the door, watch throw the spy, cannot see anything but a small woman of southern European touch carrying a metal rolling table. There is no cloth on it, and nothing to be seen but a present wrapped in black, the bow black and gold.

»Miss Wolf, are you in there? Is everything alright?« Now, I hear a heavy Italian accent, and she gets on her toes as if seeing more. The skin between her dark eyebrows wrinkles in concern, and my stomach tells me she has no clue what my visit is about.

Opening the door with a smile, my sight straightens the crease. »I'm sorry.« Playing the role as well as I might, I bite my lip in embarrassment and push a strand of hair behind my ear; playing to have been caught is one of the easiest tricks to stop the questioning of anyone. She blushes a little, and I know it works all over the world still.

Just to make the story more convincing, I give a shoulder glance to the couch, and smile charmingly at literally nothing.

She buys it all, and this is good. No matter what is in the box, I do not need any more innocents in this. The less she knows, the better. Although, in old versions of interrogation, unknowledge is not really a profit. It simply does not count, and you die in torture just because you have been left unaware. Let us just hope people in here are more modern, if it comes down to it.