Memories of Winter

Caught

Pierce's operatives had been checking cameras and listening to police chatter for the last five days. The asset had been tracked via the bike as far as Indiana, but they had lost it somewhere overnight. From Indiana, they could've travelled into Canada, gone South or carried on West. Now it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. The Red Room agent had been dispatched from Russia with Colonel Karpov in attendance himself. Their key had flown straight to New York when no word of the two rogue assassins' whereabouts had been given. Inside the Ideal Federal Savings Bank, the technicians with them were busy setting up their equipment for when the asset was returned.

A break came in the second week.  The owner of the High Plains Motors was fastidious with his paperwork. He'd just bought a beautiful nearly new Triumph motorbike, and he wanted to sell it quickly in order to capitalise on how much he'd bought it for. He filed his paperwork and when he did so the paper trail of ownership was picked up by the American Hydra agents searching for the Winter Soldier. The Red Room agent as well as Pierce's hand-selected STRIKE force, led by Brock Rumlow was informed and immediately piled into the jet.

Rumlow wandered into the Wolf Point café and sat down. The waitress came over with the coffee jug and he accepted. He flashed a card at her with an official-looking ID. "Excuse me, ma'am, I'm looking for a couple that may have come through here. Pretty redhead and a quiet, big guy? Ring any bells?" 

"Sure does."

Rumlow smiled, "Any idea where they went?"

"Sure do. They asked about work. I said Livingston was their best bet. Nice couple. Do hope they're not in any trouble."

"Not yet." Rumlow's smile clearly made the waitress uncomfortable, and she stepped away regretting saying anything.

Rumlow picked up his phone and typed one word - Livingston.

Sleeper agents were deployed to Livingston dressed in police uniforms to seek out the assassins hiding in Montana.

-X-

They'd been in Livingston for over a week, having arrived with enough money to get a room in a motel. Natalia had immediately got herself some work in a diner, turning herself into the cheerful waitresses they'd been served by. James had tried a garage but ultimately found work at a sawmill. Cash in hand, no ID needed and few questions. As long as you kept your head down and were a good worker they were happy, and he could do those things.

James currently sat in the diner Natalia worked in, it was early, the breakfast shift. The sun hadn't risen from behind the Yellowstone Range leaving Livingston in its shadow pre-dawn. Those mountains were beautiful. This whole area was. The sight gave James a sense of peace in his chest he'd never known, or at least, couldn't remember feeling before.

"Tea, darling, and eggs?" The drawl Natalia had adopted in public was on and James turning to her, smiled and nodded.

The cook who had got to know the pair since their arrival, or at least the facade they allowed him to see, shouted from behind the counter.
"Not much of a talker, your husband, is he?"

"He surely ain't, but I make up for that, don't I, darling." She leaned down and kissed him before walking back to the cook's counter to get his breakfast.

He looked out the window again, a string of cop cars in the distance caught his attention. Not driving fast but moving in a purposeful line. He focused on them. There were four in total, two pulled up onto the main street and a bunch of uniformed officers stepped out. Tactical vests, multiple weapons. James felt the hairs on his arms prickle. Shit!

Natalia came over with his plate and he stood grabbing her arm.
"They've found us."

She looked at the cops, who clearly weren't cops.
"Out the back."