Adamantine (A Post-Black Panther Bucky Barnes Love Story)

1

"What do you think?"

The room is very quiet as he awaits my response. I watch the screen carefully, eyeing the new Wakandan king's body language. It's odd to me; after centuries of isolation, why is Wakanda choosing now to open themselves to foreign trade and foreign relations? It doesn't add up.

"I don't get it," I say finally, my voice quiet and even. I flick my glance over to the ambassador, Michael Griffin. "Why now? What brought this on?"

"Wakanda has been in turmoil recently," Fiona Maynard, the woman in cobalt seated across from me, explains. "They have had many power shifts in a very short amount of time. From T'Chaka, to T'Challa, to Erik, back to T'Challa. That kind of instability can make any government question the nation's policies."

I don't say anything. I simply nod as a response. The Secretary of State watches my expression very cautiously. After it's clear I don't want to add anything else, she turns her attention to the ambassador.

"You're being reassigned to Wakanda- orders from the president," she says simply, her tone blunt. She hands him a file folder. "Your time there is indefinite. At least several months. King T'Challa is willing to host you, and we are not hesitating to get our people inside. We want good relations with Wakanda. We need to be their best ally; we need to be able to ensure their weaponry will not be used against us."

"Their vibranium won't be a problem, even if it was used against us," I speak up firmly, and a hint of amusement tinged with fear flicks across Fiona's eyes.

"Oh, I know it won't be a problem for you. Vibranium is play dough to you," she says pointedly. "That's why you're going with him. You're the best person to protect him- especially in Wakanda."

I settle back in my leather chair. Arms crossed, I think the entire thing over. I'll be in a country filled with the most valuable metal in the world. I'll get a first-hand insight into one of the most technologically advanced countries in existence.

I nod once. "I'm in."

•••••

As I walk through the halls, I'm distinctly aware of everyone's eyes on me. I'm used to it at this point. Everyone knows I'm the sole product of Project Adamantine, named after the metal of the gods in ancient Greek mythology. They all wonder how I survived the initial radiation, how I have such a high body count to my name when I was sent into the field at such a young age, how I've managed to make a myth out of myself.

I'm twenty two years old, and I'm an urban legend in more countries than I can count. It works for me; it makes my job a lot easier if people don't get in my way. I'm used to espionage. I'm used to acting as security for an ambassador. I'm used to fighting my way out of situations. But I know this game better than anyone- you never play your best cards first.

That's why only a handful of people actually knows about my powers, people like the Project Adamantine directors and scientists who fixed me up after the bomb that gave me these powers fell. My genes were mutated from the radiation, and they healed me to prevent diseases like cancer from settling in. But the whole 'controlling metal' thing stayed.

So they trained me to become a weapon. I studied every aspect of espionage, and I became an expert. I've toppled foreign governments. I've brought down regimes. I've killed terrorists. I've foiled plots to commit atrocities throughout the globe.

At this point, killing comes easily. I used to hesitate. I've learned, though, that it's either kill or be killed. There is no time for hesitation. So I clench my jaw and let the bullets do their job.

Maybe that's why they're sending me to Wakanda. They know I'll pick up information; it's ingrained in my mind to do so. They also know that Wakanda is not horribly far from the Sambisa Forrest, where Boko Haram is hiding out. They can't risk Michael dying, and they know he'll be safe with me. There's no doubt if Michael goes into the country with me, he'll come back alive.

I pull my hair up into a messy ponytail as I walk, not concerned with looks as much as I am with my hair being out of my eyes. I stop outside the office I've been looking for, and I knock firmly on the door. I only wait a few seconds for the door to open.

"Aurea," the light-haired man says, surprised. "I wasn't expecting to see you today."

I smirk, just a slight quirk of the corner of my mouth. I'm not keen on showing much emotion, positive or negative. "I have a favor to cash in."