LEGACY: a bucky barnes story

Chapter 34 - Detection

"You ready?" I chuckled towards a distraught Bucky.

"Yeah, yeah, I just need my hat."

I tapped my foot playfully as I zipped my jacket. Today is Saturday, market day in El Maravillas. We found comfort in everyone busily bustling in their own affairs, so much so that no one pays us any mind. We settled in the Cuban safehouse for months.

"I think we should stop at an ATM."

Bucky looked at me in a panic. "What the hell are you talking about? They can trace any account connected to you."

"James—I know. S.H.I.E.L.D. has a fund for undercover agents. We are given the login information upon our enlistment. I can access it remotely—the whole point of the fund is to have money available with a scrambled route signal. If I pull from that, they can't possibly know it was withdrawn from a Havana ATM."

"That sounds fake." He scrunched his nose and raised his eyebrow. "Why am I just hearing about this now?"

"Listen... I remember my dad talking about it too—it's proven useful as a way for S.H.I.E.L.D. to take care of their undercover agents without making themselves directly known or involved. Our funds are low and we're running out of Hydra items to barter—I think we've waited long enough, don't you?"

Bucky huffed. "I don't like it... so we're walking to an ATM that's miles out of town. At least if they come, we can get a head start."

I rolled my eyes. "Will that make you feel better?"

"Yes," he chuckled.

After briskly walking ten miles outside the capital and making our withdrawal, we reentered the Havana farmer's market. We'd already walked for four hours before ever setting foot in the market.

"God, my feet hurt; you want to split up to get our stuff faster?" I begged.

"I guess we can do that," Bucky teased. I punched him in the arm, realizing too late which arm I bruised my knuckles on.

"Don't you know which one is which by now?" Bucky laughed.

"Shut up," I grimaced. "I'll get the chicken and cheese—you've got produce and bread?"

"Yes ma'am—do we have enough for several plums?"

"How many is several?"

"Several."

"James."

"Fifteen?"

"Dear God, you're going to have two a day until next market?"

"Mhmm," he smirked.

"Doesn't Pauli just give you plums at this point?"

"Yeah, but I feel bad, so I should buy some too."

"That many though?"

"How about ten?"

"That's... that's fine—just get fewer apples to split the difference."

I watched as Bucky eagerly approached his favorite vendor—Pauli the plum guy. Bucky may be as obsessed with Pauli as Pauli is with plums—that's the only thing the guy plants, grows, and sells. He probably only eats plums, too, if I had to bet. I'll be forever grateful Bucky's obsession was enough to land him employment harvesting in Pauli's fields. I turned to find the meat vendor section when a phone booth to my left starts to ring. I paused. When no one moves to answer it, I warily entered the booth.

"Hel-Hello?"

"Am I speaking with Agent Jennifer Coulson?"

"Depends who's asking?"