Road to War Part I: Terrible Lie

Am I Not Living Up to What I'm Supposed to Be?

His fingers curl reflexively around the edge of the metal seat on which he is sitting.  Another jolt of the vehicle causes him to clench his teeth, but he resists looking toward the driver.  He has not yet reached the beginning of his mission parameters, and doesn't want to incur the displeasure of his handlers by reacting in a way they would not prefer.  The Winter Soldier follows orders, the Winter Soldier follows orders, the Winter Soldier follows orders.  The Winter Soldier does not deviate from those orders, he reminds himself.  He doesn't know what constitutes deviation.

The vehicle stops at last, and he remains motionless.  Men in the front of the vehicle climb out and he waits while they walk around to open the doors to his left.  Now his mission starts, now he may move freely.  He swings himself easily out onto the packed ground on which they have stopped.  The men with him move back warily, watching him.  Turning back to the vehicle, he picks up the heavier weapons he had not worn on his person for the trip.  Then he faces the other men and waits.  They signal him to move, and he does so.

Their exact location is unknown to him; he doesn't recall ever knowing where they are.  Sometimes he is given coordinates, but is usually brought close to where ever he needs to be.  They are on a dirt road surrounded by woods – fir trees – and clearly on mountainous terrain.  They climb higher, leaving the road and following a path through the trees.  It is large enough to be a driveway, perhaps.  Not another road, but more expansive than, say, an animal trail.  He pauses, brow furrowing, as he considers if he's had another mission to give him this sort of information, or if it comes from somewhere else.

The others don't notice his pause, and he hastens to continue, pushing the thought away.  The Winter Soldier follows orders.  He pulls a knife out and twirls it through his fingers, feeling oddly agitated.  This makes the men ahead of him grow tense and uncomfortable, shooting him wary glances, but they do not speak.  They do not tell him he is deviating, so he continues.  The walk is long and uninteresting.

Finally, they come upon a small complex, nestled in a clearing.  There are four separate buildings, one clearly the main house.  It has a lot of windows to take in the view on the far side of the clearing, where there is a gap.  A cliff face, he thinks, though cannot be certain from here.  The other buildings are a barn, a guest house, and stables.

"Our last reports say he is in the barn," one of the men says to him quietly.

They move to stand back, behind the trees, and allow him to make his way forward.  He does so, heading toward the barn.  His boots are heavy, but he treads lightly and carefully, no sound indicating his approach.  It is very quiet here.  Peaceful, even.  The feeling pulls at him, and he wonders why he has to do anything more than rest.  An intense heaviness hits him, and he thinks that he has not had a rest in a long time.  Has he ever rested?  He has waited – for briefings, for his arrival at target destinations, for debriefings – but he has not been allowed to truly rest.  But the Winter Soldier follows orders.  The Winter Soldier does not deviate.

When he reaches the barn, no other sound having reached his ears on the trip, he presses himself against the rough wood and listens, eyes scanning carefully for any movement.  At length, he moves to the door and wrenches it open.  Some animals therein are startled by his presence, and make distressed noises, but he does not see the man he was sent to find.  To kill.  He moves inside quickly and inspects the place.  The search proves fruitless, and he goes back outside.  He glances toward where the men who accompanied him are waiting, considering if he should return for further orders or if what they said was not an order.

The noise of the animals causes someone to turn a light on in the main house.  He decides it would not breach protocol to go check it out.  His movements are silent as he makes his way to the house, avoiding the large windows.  The sun is setting and he knows it will be difficult to make him out in the gloom, so long as he keeps away from direct light.  Following the northwest wall, he comes upon a side door and uses it to slip inside.  It was locked, but he knows how to get through locked doors.  Easier to do when he isn't worried about detection, but a skill he possesses nonetheless.  He used to use it a lot when – when... He stills, thinking.  There is another door he remembers, one that was often locked and the key often lost.  And he broke in to help... someone.  Not to kill them.