The Ghost [Marvel | Steve Rogers]

Chapter 51

Siberia

Spring 2016

"We're ten minutes out." Nadine looked up at Steve's low report. Not that she'd exactly needed him to let her know. The tenor of the engines' hum had shifted, indicating the Quinjet was beginning to slow. It, more than his softly spoken warning, had the effect of waking her from the near torpor she'd fallen into as their amusement over how helpful Nadine would've been in DC had subsided back into a heavy, solemn silence where time seemed at once to slow and speed up.

Next to her, Barnes similarly fidgeted in his seat as he too emerged from wherever he'd disappeared to within his head, blinking away the distant, troubled expression from his eyes. Inhaling deeply, the former HYDRA agent straightened in his seat, sparing Nadine a small yet grave smile. One she returned with little thought.

There was no escaping what lay before them.

It was going to be a brutal fight.

"Do we have a plan," she asked. In front of her, Steve leaned forward, gathering his thoughts as he began to prep the Quinjet for its final approach to their destination. Next to her, the crease between Barnes' brows returned as he too turned his mind to the coming fight.

But before either of the two men could speak, they were interrupted by a welcome sound that nearly had Nadine gasping with relief.

"Mom?"

Nadine twisted at the small, uncertain voice of her daughter. "Nina," she breathed, the words little more than a sigh at first. "How are you feeling, solnyshko?"

Nina was looking out the front viewscreen as she stepped into the cockpit proper. Her face was still faintly pale, though out of nerves or lingering exhaustion, Nadine wasn't sure. Her arms curling around her torso, Nina edged closer to Nadine's seat, instinctively seeking reassurance against the disorientation Nadine could see in her daughter's eyes. "I'm okay," she brushed off, the assurance somewhat diminished by a faint tremor that didn't entirely convince her mother. But only at first. Much to Nadine's relief, Nina's voice strengthened as she continued, if only marginally. "Where are we?" Nadine reached up, fishing out Nina's hand and squeezing gently.

"Siberia," Nadine said simply.

"Siberia?" Nadine looked up to Nina, taking in the uncertainty flickering across Nina's drawn features. She squeezed her fingers just a little tighter, pleased when Nina squeezed back.

"Where Barnes was 'kept' when not in use." There was no hiding the cool, derisive cast to Nadine's tone. It was as clear as what she thought of their destination. Nina paled further, risking a glance toward Barnes. He sat, jaw tight and eyes straight ahead, fixed a little too intently on the barren expanse of ice and rock that stretched ahead of them as they approached their destination. A small shiver went through Nina, one that Nadine felt as her daughter unconsciously pressed closer, all but sitting on the armrest of Nadine's seat. She gently tugged her fingers free from Nina's, reaching up to wrap her arm loosely around Nina instead, absently chafing her opposite arm.

"There really are more like him, aren't there," Nina finally asked after a long moment. Nadine drew in a slow, steadying breath and let it out again before she answered. Across the narrow aisle, Barnes' gaze dropped to the floor, his jaw tightening further. A faint whine reached mother and daughter both, both looking over to see his metal hand clenching tight. Nadine sighed.

"No, solnyshko," she corrected, not looking away from Barnes. His expression was nearly as impassive as hers, though there was a vulnerable, despairing light to his eyes. "They're not like him. Not really."