The Price We Pay for Family - 4

 

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 a dirt road between a grove of trees and a rundown barn. The whole area was taped off as Bucky circled. His face was impassive as he made a second circle. 

Agent Brown opened his mouth to say, who knows what, but Torres held up a hand to stop him the same way Sam did to him when Bucky had that look. If there was one thing Torres had learned from Sam, it was that Bucky needed to do things like think unhindered and in his own time. So Torres let him think in silence. 

He took a third lap around the scene before he unexpectedly stopped, "90 seconds." Bucky murmured. 

Now Torres could speak without interrupting the train of thought, "What do you see?" 

"Secluded area. Trees to muffle the sound. Between them and the barn." Bucky nodded to the building, "Chokepoint."

 "Okay." Torres nodded, looking around, "How'd it happen?" 

Bucky turned and gazed at the scene like he could see it playing out, "They were arguing. Cass was mad, yelling, screaming. AJ's equally as loud. It doesn't matter; no one's gonna hear them here. They know that. AJ grabs Cass's arm, tries to reason; Cass pulls away back to AJ. House is that way." Bucky gestures back beyond the road, "They would be facing the Docks." Bucky turned back to the road and traced an invisible line with his hand connecting the docks, where they were standing and the house in a straight line, "They never saw it coming." 

Torres could see it happening. Bucky was good, "How'd they do it?"

 Bucky turned to the road, and his eyes became distant like he was in a different place, different time even, "It would need to be fast to approach, nothing out of the ordinary though, something normal, forgettable. A sedan, stolen would work. Three-man team, driver, passenger, one in the back. Pulls up," Bucky's circling where the car would be careful not to disrupt the markings on the ground, "Driver gets out with the man in the back. One kid for each. At the same time, the passenger gets out and comes around the front and gets into the driver's seat, pops the trunk. They put the boys in, pat them down for trackers, maybe drug them. Ditch the trackers, the driver gets into the passenger seat, back in the car, under a minute. In and out, 90 seconds tops." 

Torres nodded, looking at the footprints on the ground circling tire tracks, "Have these tracks been sent in for processing?"

 "Yes, sir. The results will come in about two hours." Agent Brown nodded eagerly. 

"Don't bother. They'll have ditched it by now." Bucky shook his head, looking down the dirt road, "From here, it's ten miles to the interstate. Under the speed limit, 15 to the nearest port, 30 to the airport, 40 to the train depot. They're professionals; they won't keep the car longer than three hours at best." 

"What are you saying?" Agent Brown asked nervously. 

Bucky stared down the empty road, face tightened in focus before abruptly turning on heel, "Back to the house."

 The FBI scrambled back to their vehicles, but something didn't sit right with Torres, "What's wrong?" 

Bucky stopped before he got in the car and turned, so they were facing each other, "This whole thing is wrong. You can't plan something like this. There're too many variables. You can't predict when the kids would come through here; you can't control if they have an adult or not. This wasn't a planned operation like the FBI thought it was. It was an opening, an unplanned one."

 Torres made the connection instantly, "They were being watched." 

"Still are." Bucky agreed, getting into the car.

 "That means they've been waiting for who knows how long; they're motivated, planned, top of the game." Torres worked through the facts. 

"They want something. Something that only Sam can get them. It's not money or politics. He doesn't have access to either of them right now. It's something else." Bucky shook his head, pulling out his phone. 

"What do you think it is?" Torres asked process of elimination, narrowing down the options. 

"Best guess? Something to do with our work. Or revenge." Bucky put the phone up to his ear.

 "Seems a little too, motivated, to be revenge." Torres frowned. 

"Agreed," Bucky paused, "Sam? Tell Rhodes it's not money. Tell him to pull all our cases from the last month and start clearing all of them. Also, have the FBI sweep the area for long-range surveillance equipment. We're on our way back now." Torres watched as Bucky talked on the phone and still got the distinct feeling something was wrong. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes kept moving like he was expecting something to jump out at any moment. He was on high alert, on edge for something. Bucky wasn't telling them something, and Torres wasn't sure if he wanted to know. 

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