Possessed - Bucky Barnes x OC

Part 37

TW: Blood, gore, and death.

Twelve years ago. Midtown, Manhattan.

"Right on time, Barnes." Pierce sat at his deep walnut desk with Rumlow lounging in one of the leather chairs across from him.

James gave a silent nod.

"Please, take a seat." He gestured to the open chair his with the cigar between his fingers.

He strode further into the room, pulling off his coat to reveal his clean-cut all black suit. His hair was tucked back behind his ears, small strands grazing the side of his structured jaw. Sitting down in the chair beside Rumlow, he lit a cigarette between his lips.

Pierce sat up in his seat, elbows resting on his desk. "How was last night's hit?"

"Completed, with ease." James' voice was cold, speaking over the cigarette in his mouth.

"Excellent."

Rumlow scoffed. "Not like your work is hard." He muttered to himself.

James slowly turned his head to stare him down, pulling the cigarette between his fingers. "Got something to say, fucker?"

"Nope." He sat back in his seat, wearing a smug grin.

"Enough of that shit, Rumlow." Pierce scolded. "Barnes works his ass off. You should be so lucky to have the skill he does."

The two of them had been butting heads since Rumlow joined Hydra the year before. He had climbed up the ranks quickly— almost as fast as James did, landing himself the number three spot.

James had been Pierce's number two guy and lead hitman for a few years now. He handled big picture situations from behind the scenes, ensuring that product was being moved and people that needed to be taken out, were taken out. He didn't actually step out into the field unless if was for hit, keeping his identity as private as he could.

Pierce had expected James to take over it anything happened to him. Knowing he could more than handle the dark nature of what went on in the industry. He appreciated the violence in James. He egged it on even. Pushing him to let himself slip more and more into a sadistic, ruthless lifestyle.

"Now, we need to discuss tonight." Pierce started. "Moretti's people aren't easy to pin down, but I have it on good authority that he'll be present for the exchange."

"We're prepared for anything they throw our way." James assured.

They had planned a pickup at the one of the many warehouses they owned in the area. James had requested a shipment of goods. Fifty kilos of cocaine. Thing was, the meetup wasn't about the product. It was simply a front to get their boss, Moretti, to show up. James was going along to hide in the shadows and then take him out the second he stepped inside.

Moretti was a long time connection for the group, having been loyal for many years now. But they caught wind of him cutting his product. The team first noticed the major decline in quality when they were partying one night. None of them felt shit after doing more than enough lines to overdose on.

After investigating further into Moretti's gang, they realized the problem went much deeper than the grade of the drugs they were providing. They had been blackmailing a few members of Hydra to get confidential information. They were clearly planning to start a war one way or another, so James had to beat them to it.

He changed from his suit into his tactical gear, strapping guns to his hips and back. Shoving knives into every pocket and two into his boots. After slipping on his mask and grabbing his trusty M4A1 carbine, they left.