The Price We Pay for Family - 2

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Cont...

(A small note to try and make sure no one gets mad at me.

In my head, I think of and address Joaquin Torres and just Torres in my head and in my writing. Using his first name disconnects him when I write for some reason.

So in this story, he will be referred to as Torres unless I'm introducing him to someone.)


They were in the middle of a celebratory dinner when Sam's phone rang. They'd taken out the last of the botched serums from a homegrown extremist who'd been hiding in India. That cut off all the supplies to the Super-Soldier market. It was a night to celebrate the victory, no matter how short it would be. Sam checked the caller ID before excusing himself from the table and answering, "What's up, sis?" "Sam?" That was not Sarah, "It's Carlos." Sam's gut dropped out, "What's wrong?" "It's the boys. They're missing." Carlos didn't dance around the subject. Sam sucked in a sharp breath, panic grabbed onto his chest, "How long?" "Three hours, give it take." "I'm on the first flight out." Even though Carlos couldn't see it, Sam nodded, "Are the authorities there?" "Yes." "Good. I'm gonna call in some favors. Tell them that we'll be read in the instant we're there. How is she?" "Not good. Scared." "Okay, can you make sure someone stays with her through all of this till I get there?" "Already on it." "Okay, what organizations are there?" "Local cops and the FBI." "Alright, just don't panic, let them do their jobs, and make sure they tap the phones." Sam hung up and turned to the table who had lost their cheery air. "What's wrong?" Bucky asked first down to business mode immediately. "It's the boys. We're wheels up yesterday." Sam bit out already dialing a new number. Torres was only seconds behind Bucky as they abandoned their meal and grabbed their bags, following Sam out the door, "What happened?" "Someone took them." Sam got into the passenger seat, phone to his ear, "Rhodes? Yeah, it's Sam. Listen, I need a favor-" "I'm driving," Bucky warned the new Falcon as he chucked Sam's bag and his own into the back seat. "What can I do?" Torres asked, pulling his door closed as Bucky started the car. "Get the airport ready for us to take off ASAP." Bucky ground out, pulling out of the parking spot, "And pray." "Okay, Rhodes is sending the message up the line to whoever in Washington needs to know. He's also gotten us a green light once we get into US airspace. He's heading down there now. He'll meet us when we land." Sam got off the phone as they weaved in and out of traffic at breakneck speeds. "Good. Any news on why this is happening?" Bucky asked, eyes not leaving the road. "No. I've stepped on a lot of toes in my career though, it could be anything. It could be nothing. I really hope it's just some amateur who has no clue what they're doing." Sam sighed, rubbing his forehead. "That could be worse." Bucky pointed out grimly. "This whole situation is worse." Sam mumbled, "I'm two continents away; I'm not going to get back until tomorrow at best- I should be able to do something!" "Sam, stop yelling and breathe." Bucky looked over at him, "They're gonna be fine. We'll be home under the 48-hour window, leaving plenty of time to fix this. Just breathe." "Road!" Torres cut in from the backseat, "Watch the road!" Bucky expertly maneuvered through the light traffic, "Please don't yell." "Sorry. The flight plan had been filed and given priority. So the airport will have the plane fueled and on the tarmac within the hour for us. We'll be back before we know it." Torres reported. "Good." Sam huffed, staring out the window, "The sooner, the better."


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