Red

Part 9

Bucky

"Barnes, get off your ass. It's time to roll." All I can see is the back of my captain as she walks out ahead of me. I roll off my bunk and grab my gear. Whatever sleep I managed to get in the last few hours will have to suffice. I don't know how long we'll be gone, but I do know that so many things could go so wrong tonight.

Twelve weeks ago on a routine patrol, one of our Humvees was hit by an IED. While we were scrambling for cover to assess the situation, insurgents were pulling our people out of the flaming vehicle before we even had the chance to attempt to rescue them.

After acquiring the intel, tonight was the night. We'd bring them back, and if we were all lucky, our entire unit would be going home. I was ready. I nodded to my crew as I checked my weapon over and looked over the map.

"Sergeant, a word?" Captain Romanoff was standing off to the side by her jeep, and I jogged over to meet her.

"Ma'am." The sun is still up, but I lower my sunglasses to focus on her face. We're all tired and stressed, but she came back from a quick leave in the middle of all of this; somehow, she looks worse than all of us put together.

"I want you and Wilson together on point," she tells me, glancing over my shoulder and beckoning Wilson over.

Sam is a jovial guy. Friendly to a fault, kind, and always looking for the best in people, but he's deadly with hand-to-hand combat, and he's kicked my ass more than a few times. He's also served as my spotter a few times when I've been a sniper for some of our missions, and I know I can trust him.

It doesn't hurt that he's my friend, and he's friends with Steve and Natasha; we just try to keep the latter quiet around here. "We need to move out soon; these guys are getting antsy," Sam says as he walks over.

"We will. I need a favor." The captain pulls her own glasses off to look at us. Here she's my commanding officer; back home, she's my best friend's girl. "Everyone gets out, no matter what."

"Of course, we know what to do." I'm serious. This isn't just my job; my brothers and sisters are out there, and I'm going to bring them home.

"You're not just talking about them though, are you?" Sam pipes up next to me with his arms crossed over his chest.

"No, I'm not." Nat gives me that coy smile that she usually reserves for Steve. "Make sure I get out, okay? We all make the extraction, and we all go home. Together."

We're agreeing with her when she's called to check something before we roll out, and Sam turns to me. "There's a rumor about her."

"Not the same one about me, is it?"

"Nah, man, people gave up on that shit once they got a look at Steve." Sam nudges me and nods to where the captain stands, one hand resting lightly over her bulletproof vest ... directly over her stomach.

"Oh, shit." I groan. "She needs to stay here; she can't possibly think she's going with us." Steve will literally kill me, after he kills Nat. I'm panicking, wondering if he even knows, or if she even really is when Sam interrupts me.

"It's just a rumor. Give her some credit; she's reckless, but she's not stupid." Sam slaps a hand to my shoulder, and I cough out a laugh. Right, not stupid.

By the time we got to the location we tracked our people to, night had fallen. With Sam and I on point, we led the team into the small compound, incapacitating rebels at their posts. "Hoskins, Walker, up the stairs and clear the second floor. Torres, Romanoff, keep the courtyard clear. Wilson and I will sweep the first floor." My mic is lodged in my ear painfully, but I know everyone can hear me as I whisper. "Rendezvous is T-minus sixty minutes. Make it count."