The Soldier and His Girl. (Steve Rogers Love Story)

Chapter Seventeen: Bucky?

Sitting in the backseat of the gray car, squeezed between Natasha and Sitwell, the tension was palpable as Sam navigated us down the highway toward the Triskelion. The mood was heavy, every second ticking away like a countdown.

"HYDRA doesn't like leaks," Sitwell muttered, his voice dripping with unease. I rolled my eyes, turning to stare out the window, trying to ignore the gnawing anxiety. Steve caught my reaction in the rearview mirror, giving me a quick wink, but even that couldn't lift the weight pressing on my chest. Sam, however, wasn't as patient, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"So why don't you try sticking a cork in it," Sam snapped, weaving through the congested traffic with practiced ease.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my head, like a thousand needles piercing my brain. I gasped, clutching my temples, as vivid, disjointed images flooded my mind—dark shapes, cold steel, the glint of a metal arm. The pain was intense, blinding, but just as quickly as it had come, it vanished, leaving me breathless and trembling. When I opened my eyes, I found Steve's worried gaze fixed on me through the rearview mirror.

"What did you see?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.

I struggled to catch my breath, still reeling from the vision. "Something's coming," I whispered, the words tasting like ice on my tongue.

Beside me, Natasha leaned forward, glancing at her phone with a frown. "Insight's launching in sixteen hours," she informed us, her tone grim. "We're cutting it close."

Steve's eyes flicked back to me, his expression hardening. "I know." He turned to Sitwell, who was already looking more panicked by the second. "We'll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly."

"What?" Sitwell blurted out, his voice rising in pitch. "Are you crazy? That's a terrible, terrible idea—" His protests were cut short as a metal arm smashed through the window, yanking him out of the car with terrifying force. I screamed, the sound raw and involuntary, as a figure landed on the roof with a deafening thud. The car shook, the air thick with tension as I locked eyes with Natasha. We both moved instinctively, unbuckling our seatbelts and lunging toward the front seat.

As bullets tore through the back of the car, I ducked under Natasha's outstretched arm, landing awkwardly on Steve's lap. Natasha squeezed herself into the space between the seats, her legs draped over Sam's lap as she drew her gun. Steve's blue eyes met mine, wide with adrenaline, and despite the chaos, I couldn't help but smirk. He managed a quick smile before yanking the parking brake near my leg, sending the car skidding to a screeching halt. The man on the roof was thrown off, hitting the pavement with a sickening crunch.

"Was that what you saw?" Sam yelled, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

"I'm not sure yet!" I shot back, my voice thick with sarcasm and fear.

My heart hammered in my chest as I caught sight of the Winter Soldier, his cold, calculating eyes locked onto us as he rose to his feet. The world seemed to narrow down to him—his metal arm glinting in the harsh sunlight, his presence a harbinger of violence and death. My chest tightened as flashes of my father and Tony's parents bled into my vision, their tragic fates tangled with the man now standing before us. Sensing my fear, Steve's grip on my side tightened, grounding me just as a car slammed into our rear, jolting us forward.

The Winter Soldier was on us in an instant, his metal fist crashing through the windshield, ripping the steering wheel from Sam's hands. "Shit!" Sam cursed, the panic clear in his voice as Natasha fired at the assailant, her bullets ricocheting harmlessly off his armor. The car hurtled down the road, careening toward a concrete divider that threatened to end us all in a heartbeat.