End Of The Line

Hydra's Pawn

Bucky watched as the young women peered up at him with electric eyes.  She had an air of coldness and harsh reality about her.  Back in the day Bucky might have tried his luck, but in light of his dizzying state of mind and the error of his ways he knew better than to make  nice with the queen of ice. Her gaze took in his alarmed state and her lips curled into a wicked grin. 

"Who the hell are you?"  He hissed.  His blood was racing through his veins.

It was exactly his luck to be found.  He always managed to be caught at the worst timing.  Here he was sipping on a fine bottle of lager and now his celebrations- diversion more like it- had been interrupted.

His fingertips curled into the palm of his hand, cutting into the calloused flesh as he tried to contain the panic and violent nature that came with always living on the edge. 

The stranger chuckled at his vehement tone.  "Now, James, is that really any way to treat an old friend?"  She spoke as she preened her smoky gray polished fingernails.

  She ran the tip of her index finger along the sharpened edge of the opposite pointer finger.  This woman was feigning boredom, hoping to get Bucky to relax but he knew better.  It had been tried on him many times.  Women would pretend to be harmless around him until he let his guard down and then they would pounce. 

Of course, Bucky was too in tune to the torturing insanity of Hydra to relax.  He had been tested time and time again, but no one managed to catch him off guard.  This girl was no exception.

"There's only one person I would count as a friend.  You're not him."

Her lips parted in an exclamation and her brows drew together.  Turning, she addressed the bartender, "Can I get some vodka for that burn?  On the rocks and nothing short of your finest Russian brew."   She grinned at the older man enthusiastically as she leaned against the countertop.

She turned her attention back to the man who would do anything to get away from it.  Her left hand came up to sweep a few wild curls out of her face before resting underneath her chin.  Her grin slipped and Bucky took it as a hopeful sign that she was done having her fun and would be well on her way.

Then again, anyone looking for the Winter Soldier wasn't so easy to shake.

Holding out her other hand, the stranger spoke with confidence.  "I don't have a name.  But the people riding my case call me Siren."

Bucky scowled down at her outstretched hand.  No doubt the little devil was hiding a dagger up those leather sleeves.

"I need your help.  Care to offer it up willingly?  Or shall I force you?"  She crooned, her voice dripping like honey.  Bucky hated honey.  Her voice made him want to pull a Van Gogh trick and slice his ears off.  Maybe then, the whispers in his head would stop, too. 

"Do me a favor, will you, Soldier?"

A shot of vodka slid over to her and she threw it back in a second.  She licked her lips against the bite of alcohol.

Bucky smirked and glanced around the almost vacant bar.  Neon signs glowed with vibrant intensity and the street lights outside the windows grew murky with the fresh onslaught of rain.

"I don't do favors.  And I won't offer myself up to be another pawn."  He grabbed the lager in front of him and chugged the remaining contents.  If he was going to survive the night, he would need a fresh buzz to keep him going. Bucky slammed the bottle down on the wooden bar ledge.  Feeling a drop running over the curve of his lower lip, Bucky swiped a hand against his mouth to stop its descent.  

  Mindful that he needed to watch his back, Bucky kept his eyes on the woman as he fetched a few crumpled dollar bills out of his wallet.  He threw the stash of money on the counter and stood to leave, tugging his hood up as he did so.

"You had to make this difficult."  She grunted. 

Bucky heard the whispers in his head; the reminder that where he went, danger was sure to follow.  They lapped at his conscious mind, waiting for him to give up or give in. 

Out of his peripheral, he saw the woman's trained but noticeable movements.  Her arm swept out towards his temple and – had he not been trained himself- would have collided with his head if it weren't for his quick reflexes and unmatchable agility.  He caught her wrist in his metallic grasp, the knife in her palm barely scratching the surface of the vibranium alloy.

"Did you really believe that you could pull a knife on me?  As if those tricks weren't branded into my mind like the memories of what I've done."  Bucky snarled; his lips curling angrily as he put ever-increasing pressure on her wrist.

Siren bit back a curse, letting a whimper fall from her lips as Bucky's fingers crushed the bones of her wrist.  The knife dropped to the floor, striking off of the laminate.  She struggled to free her wrist.

Bucky was momentarily occupied, torn between unleashing the dangerous urge inside begging for action and leaving the bar, no damage done. 

As he contemplated his next plan of action, the woman brought her knee up into his gut.  Momentarily fazed, Bucky's grip on her wrist released and he grunted from the impact.  Action it is.  Bucky's eyes turned cold and he shot forward.  His shoulder braced and he rammed the woman backwards and into the wall.  Her back collided with a neon sign, the light flickering under the contact. 

Siren hissed and shoved at the burly man to no avail.  He was too strong and try as she might she was no match for the soldier himself.  He heard the resounding crunch as his fist connected with her fragile ribs just as hers knocked against his jaw.

Bucky's head slammed sideways against the force of it. The girl might as well have been wearing brass knuckles for the effect it had on him.  She could throw a punch; he had to give her that. 

He moved back, spitting out blood onto the wood floor.  His hand came up to adjust his jaw.

He glanced back to the girl, waiting for her next step.  She was crouched low against the wall, holding her side, fingers clenching the fabric of her jacket.  Her curls spread out in disarray around her face and her eyes were wild.  She scowled.  "You don't play around, Soldier."

"So they say."

Bucky moved quickly, too fast for her to react.  His forearm slid against her throat, cutting her air supply short.  "I've had enough of this."  He barked. 

The woman clutched his arm in an attempt to pull it away.  She gasped, sputtering for air, as the force he applied became too much for her to bear. 

"Don't wait up for me, darling."  Bucky hissed.   Pulling his hand away, he used it to push his hoodie back up around his face before setting out for the door as if nothing had happened. 

"They'll always find you.   There's no escaping Hydra, Soldier."

Bucky turned, catching the sight of her laying haphazardly on the ground still gasping for air.  He was ashamed of having hurt yet another person, but he was tired of everyone thinking they could own him; control him. Hydra's personal pawn. He wasn't a saint, but he damn sure wasn't going to play the villain anymore.  He was a puppet no more and he was ready to prove to the world that he was fighting the evil still lurking inside.

"Tell Hydra I'll be waiting."