Bucky's Anchor

Chapter 25 - Friends Turned Foes

The air inside the Quinjet was heavy with silence. My hands were trembling as I clutched the back of one of the seats, my eyes darting between Steve, Sam, and Bucky. We'd escaped, but we all knew the cost. Tony and the others would regroup. They weren't going to let us just disappear. And we were running out of time.

"What's our next move?" Sam asked, glancing at Steve, who was hunched over the controls.

Steve shook his head, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "We need to get to Siberia," he said. "It's the only way to prove that Zemo is behind all of this. If we can get there before they do—"

His words were cut off as a bright beam of light shot past the jet, missing us by mere inches. My heart lurched in my chest.

"They're not giving up," Bucky muttered, his eyes narrowing as he glanced out the window. "They're coming."

Steve banked the jet hard to the left, trying to evade the incoming attacks. I grabbed onto the seat, trying to steady myself as the aircraft rocked violently. I could see Tony's suit behind us, the glowing light of his repulsor charging up again.

"He's going to take us down!" I shouted, fear tightening my chest.

"Not if I can help it," Steve replied, his voice tense. He pushed the jet forward, trying to gain some distance.

We were in a full-blown aerial chase now. I glanced over at Bucky. His jaw was set, his eyes focused. I could see the conflict in his gaze—the need to fight back, to protect us, and the knowledge that doing so meant going against everything we had ever stood for.

"We have to land," Sam said urgently. "If we stay up here, they'll shoot us down. We need to take this fight to the ground."

Steve nodded, and with a quick maneuver, he brought the jet down toward the airport tarmac. I braced myself as we touched down with a jolt, the metal of the landing gear screeching against the concrete. The moment we stopped, Steve and Sam were already moving.

"Out! Now!" Steve barked.

We scrambled out of the jet, my heart pounding in my chest as I hit the ground running. Bucky was right beside me, his hand briefly touching my back to steady me. I glanced at him, our eyes meeting for a fraction of a second. I could see the worry in his gaze, the unspoken fear of what was about to happen.

"Here they come," Sam warned, pointing toward the incoming figures.

Tony landed first, his suit gleaming under the harsh airport lights. Behind him, Natasha, Rhodey, Vision, and Spider-Man followed. My stomach twisted at the sight of them—our friends, now our adversaries.

"Last chance, Steve," Tony called out, his voice amplified by his suit. "Stand down. We can still talk about this."

Steve stood firm, his shield raised. "We're not going to let you control us, Tony. Not like this."

"You think this is control?" Tony shot back, his tone sharp. "This is about accountability!"

Natasha stepped forward, her eyes locking onto mine. "Emily," she said, her voice almost pleading. "Don't do this. You don't have to be a part of this."

I swallowed hard. Every part of me wanted to reach out to her, to find some way to bridge the chasm that had opened between us. But it was too late for that. We were on opposite sides now, and there was no going back.

"I'm sorry, Nat," I said quietly. "But I believe in what we're doing. I believe in them."

Her face hardened, the vulnerability disappearing behind the mask of the Black Widow. "Then you've made your choice."