Lost + Found [Bucky Barnes] ✓

Chapter 28

Bucky.

Oh god, I hope the others are watching this. I'm kicking myself internally for not convincing them to let me wear an earpiece or some sort of wire, because I'm pretty sure they don't know what this guy just said.

"Where's my sister?" I ask him quietly, barely holding the strings of panic crawling up my throat at bay.

He smiles, "Why don't you come with me, and we'll go see her."

Taking a step toward me, he loops his hand around my bicep and tugs me toward him. My first instinct is to pull away, but he's stronger than me. His grip tightens, no doubt leaving a bruise, and I grimace before looking frantically around the square. The lunch crowd is thick, a steady swarm of people wander through the square, and I don't see any familiar faces. Steve is somewhere behind me, and when I glance over my shoulder, I can't spot him. To my left is the Tzistarakis Mosque, which has two streets on either side of it - one of which is supposed to be guarded by T'Challa, while the other is watched by Bucky. I can't see either of them as we head straight for the one on the right - Bucky's street - which means he's probably still at the other street.

Or they took him.

A scream erupts to my right, and my head whips around toward the sound. There - right in front of the entrance to the flea market - I see a flash of metal. Half of the crowd is rushing away, but half is heading straight toward the disturbance. The woman from earlier, the one who was smiling and talking on her cell phone, is now straight-faced as she heads into the fray, and my breath hitches in my chest as I see her pull out a gun.

Kicking my foot out in front of Magnus', I shove my shoulder into his and force him to stumble into a display of hats next to a vendor's stall. His grip on my arm loosens, and I wrench it away from him and sprint toward where Bucky might be. The woman spots me and lifts her gun, so I swerve to my left and duck behind another vendor selling mounds of fresh fruit. A shot fires, tearing through the stall, and more screams erupt.

The square plunges into chaos, pedestrians rushing to escape the madness, as the woman fires off another shot at me. I'm less than ten feet from the entrance to the flea market, and - through the crush of bodies - I can see the familiar blue hat covering Bucky's head as he's struggling against several combatants.

A man to my right lunges toward me, his arms wrapping around my torso and sending me straight to the cobblestones. It's the man from the sunglasses vendor, his partner trailing behind him with a knife, and he lifts his fist to punch me in the face. I cry out as his strike lands on my cheekbone, my vision dotted with flecks of black, before my senses return to me.

My hands fly up to his neck, skin pressing against skin, and I hold on tightly as he slams another blow into my face. The second one is weakened, luckily, and I'm able to maintain contact with him until his eyes widen with shock and he collapses on top of me.

Shoving him off, I roll away and push myself upright just as his partner lunges at me with his knife. I force myself to step toward the attack instead of away, remembering Bucky's training, and I throw my hands up to stay ready. My left foot steps forward as I capture his forearm, twisting it counterclockwise until he bends at the waist, and I sweep my right leg over his head to lock onto his elbow joint. Using my body weight to force him down, he drops the knife and falls beneath me while the contact of my hands on his seeps the life out of him.

It all happens so quickly, I'm barely back on my feet before I notice the woman with the handgun pushing through the crowd toward Bucky. Her arm is raised, aiming her next shot toward his head, and he looks up to see her before slamming his shoulder into one of his many attackers and throwing the man at the woman. The two of them topple to the ground as Bucky wretches his metal arm free from a device clamping it to the street, allowing him to maneuver himself into a better position to face the oncoming attacks. Multiple men approach him at once, each of them acting in unison to overwhelm him, until a third man brandishes some sort of taser and jabs it into his ribs.

Bucky staggers momentarily, before recovering his stance and rendering two of the three men unconscious. Four more enter the fray, two of them brandishing handguns, and I reach out to lock my arms around the neck of the closest one. He resists, jabbing his elbow into my ribcage, but I spread my palms out over his neck until he falls to the ground. The second he falls, one of the other men fires off a round of bullets, and I watch as one of them sinks into Bucky's thigh.

He cries out in pain, using his metal arm as a shield to block another spray of bullets, before tossing one of the men to the side like a ragdoll. Two more advance as the woman from earlier recovers, heading toward me with her gun outstretched.

We're trapped.

From the sounds of it, I can hear gunfire and screams coming from across the square, meaning T'Challa and Steve are probably occupied too. Bucky's eyes flicker over to mine, and I can see the pain and fear etched deep within them as I lift my hands in surrender. Her gun is trained at the center of my forehead, and he's too far away to disarm her and the two attackers facing him at the same time.

"Move and she dies," the woman hisses.

*****
AUTHOR'S NOTE

Guys. Magnus though. MAGNUS THOUGH. If you haven't read The Ides of July, now would be the time to acquaint yourself with the man who was voted Best Male Villain in the Marvel Fanfic Awards.

Comment + vote!

PS. If you're not reading my new books (fragile and MARVEL: Off-Duty Superheroes) you should check 'em out!

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