Fallen Heroes | Marvel/CATWS {2}

Chapter 14: Crime of the Century

You can always tell when two people are best friends because they are having more fun that it makes sense for them to be having. –Unknown

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Night has fallen by the time we reach our destination. The others will meet us on the bank of the Potomac opposite the Triskelion in a few hours. That should give us more than enough time to get what we came for, get out, and meet them before the sun rises.

Steve resumed giving me the silent treatment for most of the drive. The only time he spoke was when he asked me to turn off the light over the small mirror in the passenger sun visor. "Can't," I'd replied without looking away from the mirror.

"What do you mean you can't?" he'd demanded, looking over long enough to see what I was doing. When he did, he let out a frustrated sigh. "Liv, why the hell are you putting on makeup?"

"Because if I die today," I'd answered, "I'm gonna look fabulous." After that, he didn't speak again until we were a few miles away from the Smithsonian, nearly two hours later.

Now, as we stand outside the same building we'd visited what feels like ages ago, he speaks up for the third time. "You have enough magic left to disable the alarm?"

I nod, waving my hand over the keypad by the door. The light on the pad goes out and there's an audible click as the door unlocks. Inside, a few spotlights over some of the displays give off enough illumination for us to see without the aid of flashlights or more magic. With only us in the room, the Captain America exhibit somehow feels smaller than it did when dozens of visitors crowded the space.

I trail a few steps behind Steve, empty duffle bag slung over my shoulder. Any other day, I could use a spell to summon his old suit, but after that spell on the bridge and Insight still to stop, I can't use any more magic than necessary.

Besides, I think as we pass the pictures of pre- and post-serum Steve, it's not like my record can get much worse at this point.

When a familiar sight in my peripheral vision catches my attention, I stop walking and look in that direction. Even from a distance, Bucky Barnes' memorial is just as beautiful as I remember it. What little light there is reflects off the glass, highlighting the etchings so they seem to be suspended in midair. Despite its beauty, the sight of the memorial sends a pang of resentment through me. My hand involuntarily goes to my throat, where I can still feel the ghost of his hand cutting off my air supply.

"Liv!" Steve calls in a low voice. I look away from the memorial and jog to catch up with him at the mannequins with the allegedly original Howling Commando uniforms. Ignoring the ropes meant to keep viewers at bay, we step onto the raised platform where the seven mannequins proudly stand. We work together to remove Steve's old uniform (the only one that I think is actually original) from the mannequin, stuffing it into the duffle, until only the reproduction shield remains. The uniform barely fits in the bag, which only just manages to zip closed.

"Let's go," Steve orders as he slings the bag over his shoulder and steps off the platform. I follow, unable to stop myself from glancing back at the memorial as I do. Almost as soon as me feet touch the ground, footsteps start echoing off the walls. We both rush for cover, trying to move as quickly as quietly as possible. I hardly dare to breathe as I crouch behind one of the displays. When the footsteps stop, I risk peeking around the corner enough to get a glimpse of the elderly security guard with white hair sticking out from under his hat. "Oh, man," he says in a gravelly voice when he sees the naked mannequin. "I am so fired."

He turns on his heel, taking a walkie-talkie form his belt and reporting the theft to whoever was listening on the other end. When he's out of earshot, Steve and I abandon our hiding places and race to the door. Once outside, I wave my hand over the keypad again. A flash of purple and the system is back online.

The SUV is right where we left it. I drop into the passenger seat, trying to fight an adrenaline-fueled grin. "Stop looking so proud of yourself," Steve suggests as he starts the vehicle's engine.

"We just successfully robbed the Smithsonian," I point out. "I think we've earned the right to be proud." He just rolls his eyes at me.

As soon as we're back on the road, the grin disappears. As soon as we meet up with Sam and the others, it's time to break into the Triskelion. Once we get inside the Triskelion, it's do or die time.

Time to take down Insight.

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So many mini-chapters!