𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 - 𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼 [1]

28. {You Have Arrived At Your Destination}

The urgency of the moment propels you forward, every second feeling like a precious commodity slipping away. You hastily make your way to the cabin where you know the suturing kit is stored, the echoes of the train's rhythmic clatter underscoring your sense of urgency.

As you reach the room, you glance out the window and notice the landscape has transformed into a bustling cityscape. The urban sprawl indicates that you and Bucky are closer to your destination, yet it also heightens the sense of danger—reinforcements could be waiting at any moment.

Your hands tremble slightly as you fumble through the supplies, finally locating the suturing kit. Relief washes over you momentarily, but there's no time to dwell on it. With the kit clutched in your hand, you turn to exit the compartment, ready to rush back to Bucky.

But as you step into the aisle, your heart lurches to a halt. Blocking your exit is a woman, her stance steady, a gun aimed straight at you. Her eyes are cold, calculating, and devoid of mercy.

"Don't move," she commands, her voice as steely as her gaze.

You freeze, your mind racing for a way out of this predicament. Every instinct screams at you to act, but the threat of the gun keeps you rooted in place. The suturing kit feels heavy in your hand, a lifeline that now seems futile in the face of this immediate danger.

Your free hand flexes subtly towards your holster, but all you find is air. You're unarmed. Damn it. In the rush to help Bucky, you hadn't considered the risk of encountering more operatives aboard this train. Your hand drops to your side, and you meet her gaze, refusing to acknowledge the barrel of her weapon.

"I don't have the key," you say, knowing this is the only reason she's gambling with your life right now. Slowly, you raise your hands in a surrendering stance, the kit still clutched tightly.

Her eyes flicker to the kit before scrutinizing you, taking in the battle marks and injuries you've accumulated over the last few hours. Eventually, her gaze returns to yours, both of you revealing nothing of your thoughts.

"Then where is Barnes?" she asks, deducing that if you don't have the key, he must.

You take a deep breath, trying to buy yourself some time. "He's not far," you admit, your voice steady. "But you know as well as I do that he's not going to just hand it over."

Her lips curl into a predatory smile. "That's where you're wrong," she says, taking a step closer. "Because you're going to take me to him."

The threat is clear, and you know you have to think fast. Your mind races through possible scenarios, each more dangerous than the last. "Fine," you say, lowering your hands slightly. "I'll take you to him. But if he sees you with that gun, it's going to get messy. You don't want another shootout in here, trust me."

"Considering you're alone, holding a first aid kit," she steps forward, eyes sharp and calculating, "I doubt he's in any shape for a shootout with me right now, Y/N."

Fuck, this is why you despise other spies. You all think the same way, trained to pinpoint every detail, every weakness of the enemy. She's seen right through you in seconds; your desperation to reach Barnes must be written all over your face.

"Who do you work for?" you ask, stalling for time to figure a way out of this. If you lunge at her, she'll be too fast, and a bullet will be in your head before you can wrest her weapon from her grasp.

She smirks, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she says, her voice dripping with condescension. "Let's just say I've been tasked with retrieving that drive, and eliminating anyone who gets in the way."