salvation ; 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 , 𝟐

011. just getting started

"OKAY, SO HERE'S the plan," Sam cleared his throat, spreading his hands on the kitchen table as Cara and I sat around it, staring at the piles of papers and maps and manila folders that littered the space.

I rubbed my eyes, having finally woken up from a long, dreamless sleep after the incident in the middle of the night. It was now late in the morning, and with talk of getting Steve back, every second felt like a waste. I had no idea what plan Sam had come up with after two days of sitting around in his parents' house, but I was desperate to hear it. Time was running out to save Bucky, and though we had no idea where he was, I could feel it. I could feel the clamp on Bucky's lifeline closing.

Cara inched her hand closer to mine on the table, but didn't touch me. Ever since last night, she'd gone back to being her normal self, still very against any physical contact. But this action let me know that she was trying. It was so similar to Bucky that it pained me. "Hey," she hummed softly, "are you okay to do this?"

My eyes met hers, and the concern in their depths were enough to make me smile reassuringly at her. "I'm fine," I said, though my voice wavered. "I'll be okay. I'm just nervous." When I lifted my head, I meant to look at Sam but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Everything in my head was backwards now. I couldn't look at him without seeing him leave.

"Elda, we're really gonna need you on this one," Sam said. His voice was deep as usual, but it held a certain authority that made me grit my teeth. It was like he didn't care what he put me through.

But that's for another time, I reminded myself bitterly. Deal with him after you get Steve back.

I nodded briskly, lips pursed. "Yeah, I can do it," I said again. "What do you need me to do?"

He sighed, rifling through the papers on the table. "Okay, I've been going over it in my head for the last few days and I think I've got an idea." Sam looked up at me and I had to fight to keep myself from spitting in his face at the pitiful look he gave me. "Elda, you're going to turn yourself in to the CIA."

I blanched. "I'm going to what?"

Cara scoffed. "Not happening. We just got away from their asses, you're telling me she's gonna give herself up, just like that?" She leaned back and crossed her arms, a cruel smirk on her lips. "Come on, Sam, you can't seriously expect her to go back right after she got out of there."

He ignored us, much to our dismay. "You're going to be our distraction. You're going to walk right up to the front doors and surrender yourself to the officers there." He circled a point on a sheet of paper that revealed a birds-eye view of what looked to be the headquarters of the CIA. "Then you're going to ask to see Everett Ross."

I scowled. "You're telling me I've got to talk to the guy that covered up my brother's death? Again?" I ducked my head and sank into a chair at the table, resting my elbows on the wood.

"I know it's hard for you—"

Yeah, right.

"—but we need to have you as our distraction. You've been put on the news, El. They're going to be all hands on deck if you turn yourself in." He sighed. "Do anything you can to keep them by you. The kid and I are gonna need it."

Cara clicked her tongue and drawled, "I'm twenty-four years old, Sam. I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me a kid."

"Yeah. Sorry." He reached behind him to grab a permanent marker from the counter, marking a spot on the rear side of the building. "This is where you and I are going to go in, Cara."

I frowned. "What about guards? I mean, we're not planning on killing anyone, are we?"

That was the wrong choice of words. I clenched my hands into fists, feeling the wood of Cade's baseball bat in my grip, the end of it splattered with blood after I lobbed it right on the head of one of those thugs. Swallowing roughly, I tried my best to see the table in front of me instead of the grass at my feet, trampled by the boots of a dozen men that I didn't know.