Fire and Ice

•35•

Kate sits on a musty bed, retying her hair. Next to her on the tan comforter lay the newspapers highlighting Rumlow's post-HYDRA career. Next to those is Steve's helmet. He's pacing near the window.

She raises a brow at him. "Wanna relax a little?"

"I don't need to relax, I need to be ready — which I am." He glances back at her for a moment.

"Patience is a virtue, Rogers."

"You're one to talk." He presses down his comm, pulling back the dingy, yellowed curtain to peek outside. "Alright, Wanda, what do you see?"

"Standard beat cops. Small station. Quiet street," she replies, surveying from her vantage point at a coffee shop table. Nat is somewhere near her, both of them in disguise. "It's a good target."

"There's an ATM in the south corner, which means...?"

"Cameras."

"Both cross streets are one way."

"So, compromised escape routes."

"Means our guy doesn't care about being seen, and he isn't afraid to make a mess on the way out. You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?"

"Yeah, the red one? It's cute."

"It's also bulletproof," Nat jumps in, "which means private security, which means more guns, which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us."

"You guys know I can move things with my mind, right?"

"Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature," Nat says.

"Anybody ever tell you you're a little paranoid?" Sam asks. He's positioned on top of a tall building, with an even better vantage point than Kate and Steve. The latter starts pacing again.

"Not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?" Nat asks.

Kate snorts, joining the conversation. "You spend way too much time with Steve; that was such a lame joke."

"And the jar of dirt thing wasn't? That one keeps getting brought up for some reason."

"I thought it was funny," Sam comments, despite the fact that he wasn't there for the original joke.

Nat goes on. "Also, Wanda, for the record, you're doing much better at learning this than Kate ever did. It's like she refuses to pick up on the stuff."

"Scientist, not a spy," Kate says.

"That's your excuse every time."

Steve sighs. "Eyes on target, guys. This is the best lead we've had on Rumlow in six months. I don't wanna lose him." They've been a team for a year now, and Rumlow popped up on the radar fairly early — but he's been elusive.

"If he sees us coming that won't be a problem," Sam replies. "He kind of hates us."

"I never quite liked him, to be honest. Always rubbed me the wrong way," Kate says.

Outside, a commotion starts — horns honking, people shouting. Steve stops pacing, looking out the window, and Kate can see his brows furrow from where she sits. "Sam, see that garbage truck?" he asks. "Tag it."

After a pause, Sam says, "That truck's loaded for max weight. And the driver's armed."

"It's a battering ram," Nat realizes.

Steve tenses, grabbing his helmet. "Go now."

"What?" Wanda asks, voicing Kate's own question. This wasn't part of the plan. They should have more time.