8-1-0-9

Chpt. 15

The sun was warm on my skin, heating up my cheeks as I closed my eyes to have a moment of peace before I slipped on the aviators Zemo had provided from some random-ass place. We were at an airplane hangar, which also somehow belonged to the man, a private jet awaiting us and ready to pull onto the runway.

Zemo was rather quiet on the drive there, having to sit in the back with me after telling Sam where to go. Bucky had chosen passenger willingly, and I guess it was so he could keep our guest in line incase he wanted to do something. My clothes were starting to get a little itchy, seeing as I hadn't been able to get them washed and the only moment of cleanliness I had was a few days ago at that police station. The tank top that officer lent me was probably the only thing remotely clean.

"So all this time you've been rich?" I asked, staring at the jet as its engines ran and an older gentleman stood at the bottom of the folding stairs. I followed next to Bucky, who's eyes were shadowed by his sunglasses but I could feel his gaze flicker to me. "I didn't know you could do that from jail."

Zemo sounded amused. "I'm a Baron, Miss. My family was royalty until Sam's friends destroyed my country."

I faced the mentioned, and he blinked at me before nodding in recognition. "Steve told me about Sokovia. Some robot Tony Stark accidentally made put majority of the city into the air."

I muttered a "damn" as Zemo opened his arms slightly, greeting the old man with a smile that was surprisingly genuine. "Hello, Oeznik," he said in Russian, and I perked up to translate it instantly in my mind.

"Welcome, gentlemen and madam," Oeznik responded, his words slightly strung close together in his old age.

I felt my bracelets like heavy weights in my pockets, and an itch crept up my spine. I didn't find anything threatening about the man, but I had a feeling our little plan about dealing with the Flag Smashers was going to be extremely difficult, or at least troubling. Perhaps I doubted Zemo's confidence in what he was doing, as well as the Soldier and Sam's reluctant trust in him.

"Old friend," Zemo added on as he carefully embraced Oeznik and they respectfully exchanged cheek kisses. It seemed strange despite understanding it's a European thing, but I kept quiet. "Please," he said to us in English, gesturing that I board the jet first with a small nod and grin.

I glanced at Bucky, who didn't give me a look in return so I went ahead to climb the stairs. I felt a shift on the railing as I assumed one of the others followed, but then an "uh-uh" came from the Soldier. Once I reached the top I looked back and saw him gripping Zemo by the shoulder to stop him from ascending after me. He gave Bucky and understanding nod, but there was also an amused smirk that he hid when he was granted the acceptance to board. His smirk softened into a polite smile and nod as I let him pass me, watching him with hawk-like gaze as he took his seat first. Seeing as how I didn't know much about Zemo and figured the other two weren't the greatest fans of him, I sat across from him and let the guys sit in the seats on the opposite side of the jet. I could feel the Asset's gaze flicker between the man and I as we took off, my fingers twisting the bracelets in my pockets and finding a subtle peace with the buzz they brought to the back of my neck.

I watched Zemo's moves and heard Oeznik shuffle forward, a class of champagne coming into my view as the former chuckled softly at the sight. He leaned forward so the old man didn't have to go very far, and I slightly respected that. "Apologies if that's a little warm," Oeznik said in English, his tone gentle like the old guy he is. "The fridge is out, but I will see if there is some good food in the galley."

"If it doesn't pass the smell test," Zemo spoke in Sokovian, and my gaze focused intently on him as he smirked with a small flick of his head. "Give it to them."