The Story Book

Cont...   The meet was set for two days from now at the Mercedes-Benz Superdome. There was no going back. While he was at peace with his decision, Bucky was still terrified. He was going to be walking back into what could quite possibly be his nightmares. It would not be something he would ever have chosen, but yet when it was on the line, here he was.  He could hear Sam and Rhodes duking it out with whoever was throwing a fit over his decision. He'd seen at least three yelling matches so far, but it was nine at night, and he was done with irate ministers of defense, or secretaries of homeland security, or whatever.  So he was sitting out on the back steps watching the lake. The creaking boards warned him of a coming person. A glance over his shoulder told him it was Sarah.  She sat next to him with a sigh, "Are all operations like this?" She motioned behind her at the yelling inside.  "Depends on the operation. Depends on the situation." Bucky shrugged. The yel

  Cont... The real world came crashing back on Sarah when a loud voice started demanding to know what was going on, and the FBI head came storming down her front steps getting ready to rip her brother a new one. Bucky shifted, putting her slightly behind him, and seemed to brace for the mad beyond belief FBI head. He was back in work mode, but his hand stayed in hers.  "What, in the love of all that's good, is going on? I expect to be kept in the loop but this," the FBI head was screaming in Sam's face now shaking a fist at him, "Is in complete disregard for that."  Sam raised an eyebrow, "Is that so? Like the way you neglected to inform my sister or me of what's happening, or your complete disregard of my sister's home?" The FBI head was fuming, but Sam wasn't done, "These are my nephews who are missing, not yours. My family. Now you can either get out of my face and do your job, or I can put this discussion off to later when this

Cont...   Sam wasn't sure if he felt relieved or terrified that it was a professional job. Amateurs tended to be rash and could do things that could get the boys hurt or worse. On the other hand, professionals would have no qualms doing the same if they didn't cooperate. It was a no-win situation. But Sarah didn't need to know that. She had stopped crying after a bit and was now a mix between numb and angry.  "That was Bucky. They're coming back now." Sam said soothingly, sitting next to his sister on the window seat.  "I never should have let them walk to the restaurant alone." Sarah groaned, burning her face in her hands.  "Hey," Sam grabbed her hands, "They'd made that walk a hundred times before; this was just a one in a million. They'll be fine."  "What if they're not? What then, Sam?" Sarah snapped.  Sam looked at his sister, scared out of her wits, "Don't think like that. They'll be fine.&

  Cont... Torres had been working with Sam Wilson for close to three years. Working with Bucky about two but never had he seen Bucky in his element.  The man was very careful to keep his more proficient skills separate from the others. So much so that he'd fall off the grid for hours before coming back, sometimes worse for wear, often with whatever they needed. He never killed anyone, but the darkness that flashed through his eyes now and then was bone-chilling, if not frightening.  But Torres knew Bucky was a good man, if not for the fact Sam trusted him with his life but also for the flash of fear that followed the darkness in his eyes. For the self-sacrificing way, he acted, both in the mundane and on the field. Torres had seen Bucky put himself in quite the dangerous situations and more than a few bullets to cover them.  Bucky Barnes was a good man, but he was also trained in ways Torres couldn't fathom and, until now, never had tried.  The crime scene was an empty spot by