Letters

Nine Lives

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Willow followed the instructions of one of her latest messages and looked both ways before crossing the street. Why had the message said that? Willow would never know.

When the traffic slowed and Willow was given the signal to walk, she quickly headed to the other side of the street. She was following a lead even though she knew she shouldn't. She should be at home.. Resting. But she could hardly stand looking at the place Bucky one called home.

The lead had come into the office just two days pervious, a police report of suspicious activity down by the harbor late at night. The tip was anonymous and most people wouldn't connect it to the string of murders but.. Willow remembered how Old Man Allen's body had smelled of dead fish. She thought it might have been because he was dead but...

Well it was a farfetched lead but something she wanted to look at anyways. What did she have going for her in her life anyways? All her coworkers wanted her to stay home and.. Cope. But Willow was restless. She had to be on the move. She had to occupy her mind with something. Work was the only thing she knew would do the trick.

So a short taxi ride later and Willow began making her way to the harbor. It was late though and really no time for a lady to be out at but.. Willow couldn't help it. if the suspicious activity occurred at night, that's when she had to be at the harbor.

Willow tricked the taxi driver into thinking she was heading home for the night and giving him the address to an apartment building near her destination so he wouldn't ask too many questions or become skeptical of her intentions. 

Now she was clinging to the shadows as she moved across the couple of blocks that would take her to the waters edge. She had specifically worn some of Steve's old clothing and put her hair up in a hat so she would be less conspicuous. The taxi driver seemed indifferent to her choice of clothing and the pitch of her voice.

As she finally reached the harbor, the harsh smell of fish and saltwater hitting her nose, Willow became hyperaware of her surroundings. She would have to. She was in uncharted territory right now. This "suspicious activity" could be anything and it might not even be linked to her case! She had to see for herself though.

Skirting around the edges of the large crates, Willow kept a close look out for anything out of place at the dock. Scanning the entire area in front of her, Willow did not see a single person in sight, not even some sort of security. Weren't these places supposed to be guarded at night? It occurred to Willow that that might not be so anymore.. With the war going on. It was just a harbor and police were far and few between. They couldn't be bothered to patrol this palace.

A noise behind Willow startled her. Turning, she found a small rat ruffling through a pile of rubble. Willow sighed and shook her head, before moving away from the crates at her back and going further down the harbor. The wind made the back of her neck cold and she shivered, pulling up the collar of Steve's shirt. Though he hadn't worn them in a year, and would probably never wear them again, they still smelled like him. His cologne was still there faintly on his shirt. It made her feel at ease.

A scraping sound made Willow stop in her tracks and hide behind the nearest pile of wooden racks. Up ahead, going into one of the large warehouses were several men dragging a large crate. Willow could hear them grunting from here. They looked like they might work here but.. Willow couldn't be sure. Suddenly, the man in front shouted,

"Werden Sie das Tempo abholen ! Die ganze verdammte Hafen kann uns hören!" Willow gasped a little. Of course there were German immigrants in America but.. Everyone had been a little wary of them since the war began. Were they loyal to America? Or to Germany? And just because they were German didn't mean they were a Nazi or HYDRA. Willow told herself. It didn't mean anything. The men continued to drag the crate inside. When they finally got it passed the door, the first man, the one who had shouted, looked around and around outside the door before shutting them roughly.