#so many of gene's outfits are theft quality
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california-112 · 8 months ago
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All right, I'm not gonna die dropping pigs from the sky. That's not gonna happen...!
Air America (1990)
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gabby297 · 4 years ago
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Saudade - Chapter 1.
||Prologue||
Summary: "Saudade" - A nostalgic longing for a person or thing that was loved once, but is now lost.
Helmut Zemo's life was forever changed when the Avengers picked his country as a personal playground to fight their own creations. He would never regain the pieces of his life where he was a husband and a father of two. But the existence of new Super Soldiers might just bring him closer to that life he once had than he ever thought was possible. Madripoor holds secrets that even Baron Zemo does not know about.
Word Count: 6.2k
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Helmut led them deeper into the garage where his personal collection was stored. Flicking the lights on, he was met with a couple of rows of his favourite antique cars. Just like he left them years ago. It wasn't all of his collection, the remaining couple of dozen were hidden away in other parts of the world. He made a mental note to thank to whoever kept the place cleaned and the cars taken care of. From an initial glance, all of them were spotless, just how he liked them.
"So our first move is grand theft auto?" Sam asked, crossing his arms the moment the light came on.
"These are mine. Collected by the family over the generations." Helmut explained as he pulled open the lid of the trunk. Some of the cars dated back all the way to pre-WW2. He could still remember his father showing him the collection when he was a young man himself. It was a tradition of a sort, in their family. A tradition that he carried on with Nic and was planning to do with Carl once he was older. Years down the line, the same cars, amongst others, were going to be split and passed down equally between them. Now, they would forever be in his collection. He supposed the traditions along with the family name would end with him.
Helmut glanced down at the trunk of the 1946 Packard Clipper that was filled with weapons, knives, and ammunition. He scanned through them all, considering what to take. Some of it will be useful, especially the ones that he could conceal easily. Hearing the doors of other cars being opened, he tilted his head towards Sam and James but refrained from making a comment. Sam chuckled from somewhere behind Helmut, making him turn to him. Sam pulled back from the 1934 Packard Twelve Series 1106 that he was checking out.
"Hey Zemo," He called out, grinning at whatever he was holding in his hand. "Have been secretly a fan-boy all along and were pissed we didn't invite you to hang out?"
"May I?" Helmut asked as he extended his hand. He had a suspicion of what it was already but wanted to see it himself.
"You should keep it. Really brings out your good side." Sam bit out sarcastically and lightly threw it across the couple of feet that were between them.
Helmut caught it easily and opened his palm to see a scratched-up keychain of Iron-Man's helmet. It was light, made of cheap metal, with nearly reflective orange and red paint.
"Huh," he muttered lowly, turning it around a couple of times. The key chain was an old, cheap trinket. He couldn't even remember where Carl picked it up. Their city wasn't exactly in support of Iron man even before the Ultron mess so he doubted it was in Novi Grad. "It belonged to my son. My eldest stole it from him, she liked to do that when they were fighting. I imagine there was another fight over the fact that she lost it."
"Put it away before you lose it," Helmut told her the moment he noticed it dangling from her pocket. "What is it with you and stealing Carl's things?"
"I'm not going to lose it." Nic rolled her eyes and grabbed it. Throwing it to the holder inside the car door she turned to him. "See?"
"Hold up," Sam cut in, pulling Helmut's attention back to him. "You have kids?"
"Had, until your friends showed up. Why does this surprise you? I had a life outside of work." Helmut asked as he ran his thumb across the keychain before putting it into his pocket. It held no value or use, just a small sentimental trinket, he should throw it out.
"Don't get sassy with me, man. If you drop a bomb on us like this, I'm gonna have questions." Sam rolled his eyes, shutting the door harder than it was necessary. Rude.
"As we all do I imagine. Curiosity is wired into our genes after all-"
"Not the time." James interrupted their conversation.
"Right, as I was saying," Helmut cleared his throat and went over to the yellow 1934 SS1 Jaguar where he knew he stored his coat. It was a nice coat. Warm, great quality leather with soft fur around the neck. Ivana loved to steal it and drop it over her shoulders the moment he looked away even for a second. No matter how many times he offered to get her one as well, she would just roll her eyes at him and stick her arms inside it as if to prove the point that it was already hers. It was funny how much it would engulf her, he wouldn't be able to protest for too long even if it ended up in him freezing his ass off at times. He blinked. "I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it's out there, someone can create an army of people… like the Avengers."
Helmut placed the coat on top of the car, making sure it wouldn't fall to the dirty ground. Trying to keep his expression neutral as a wave of bitterness washed over him, he bent down to retrieve a bag from the inside. Once the coat was removed, on the green leather of the car seat, his old, purple mask stared back at him. He paused, having forgotten that he threw it here the last time he drove the car.
Nic made a face as she lifted the mask up and took a look at it. He had stored it away in the compartment box but Nic made her way inside it to snoop around.
"You don't like it?" He raised his eyebrow, pulling out of the garage and into the traffic. He promised to bring her to the Zoo couple of days prior and they were meant to return back home the next day. So begrudgingly, he found a couple of hours in the day when he could bring her, even though they went there not even half a year ago for her thirteenth birthday.
"It's…um…very purple."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Why is it so purple?"
"I think you just don't appreciate fashion." He accused her teasingly.
"You call this fashion?" She shot back.
" I let you sit in the front of the car with me and this is what I get in return?" Helmut feigned the hurt in his voice. "Being bullied by my own daughter."
Nic snorted and pulled it over her head. She pulled down the sun visor to see how she looked before turning to him. He wasn't surprised in the least to see that it was way too big for her. The holes for the eyes and mouth were too low and covered her vision instead.
"You're going to be grounded if I find any makeup stains inside it." He threatened and moved his hand from the gearbox to pull the mask off her head. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why she was already putting it on her face. Throwing it behind him to the back, he ruffled her hair even more, causing her to cry out and swat his hand away.
Swallowing, Helmut reached for the mask. His hand lingered on the soft material for a moment. Clicking his tongue, he grasped it tighter and pushed it inside the bag. It will be useful if they ran into trouble and he needed to stay out of the public eye. Nothing else. They really needed to get a move on. The familiarity of the place was making all the memories that he had no time or energy for to come back.
"I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished." Helmut asserted, taking the coat and dropping it over his forearm. With the bag in hand, he walked back to the 1946 Packard Clipper.
"To do this, we'll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes." He explained as he filled up the bag with a couple of knives, handguns, and few boxes of rounds.
"Well, join the party. We've already started." Sam remarked from behind him. He was the jokester amongst them, Helmut thought but ignored his comment.
"First stop is a woman named Selby. Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb." He added.
Once he was by the door, Helmut placed the bag on the floor and turned back to his 'team-mates'.
"Stay here." He ordered them, not particularly wanting them to go around and explore the rest of the building.
"Where are you going?" Sam demanded to know, ready to leap into a fight.
"To change, Sam," Helmut smirked and made a point to look down at his police uniform. "I would offer you to join, but I must say I was a married man and I don't break my vows."
"Just hurry up," Sam grunted disgusted at the image Helmut must have created in his brain.
Helmut did not hurry up. In fact, he took his sweet time in choosing his outfit. The upper level of the garage was converted into a somewhat livable space if it ever came to that. Ignoring the spare bedroom, he went straight to the room that acted as a walk-in wardrobe. After going through the options, he ended up settling on a pair of black slacks and a dark purple turtle neck that was loose enough to conceal the Kevlar bulletproof vest underneath.
"My, my." Ivana grinned, coming into their bathroom and leaning against the door frame while he was buttoning up his shirt. "Don't you look charming tonight?"
"Are you sure your opinion is not swayed by the fact that you got me the shirt?" Helmut raised his eyebrow as he watched her through the mirror.
"Of course not, Helmut," She rolled her eyes playfully, coming in further and wrapping her arms around his neck from behind. "But I gotta say, purple is your colour."
He hummed and tilted his head against her cheek as he finished the buttons, leaving the top two unbuttoned. She leaned in and placed her lips on his earlobe, nibbling it lightly.
"Brings out your eyes," She breathed into his ear, making him shiver.
"Honey," He grinned and turned around to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer until she was pressed firmly against his chest. He leaned in, pressing their lips together for the briefest moment. "If you keep this up, we won't leave this bathroom."
"Doesn't sound half bad to me," She quipped and grabbed his shirt to tug him back, deepening the kiss.
"Daddy!" Carl called out all the way from the bottom of the stairs, interrupting them. At the age of five, he possessed the power to scream down the house when he wanted something. "The TV stopped!"
"Duty calls," he half groaned out and stole another quick kiss, not wanting to leave just yet. "You nearly ready?"
"More ready than you."
Helmut blinked the memory away as he put the razor back in its place and looked at himself in the mirror. With a clean shaved face and back in his regular clothes, he looked half decent. Almost like he didn't spend years rotting away in a cell with nothing but books. Almost like he was presentable enough to go home. Except there was no one to greet him there now. Sighing, he grabbed his gloves from the sink counter and shut the light off on his way.
"Really? You couldn't have taken any longer?" James asked exasperated the moment he reappeared. To his surprise, they seemed to have listened and stayed where he ordered them to.
"I certainly could have, but unfortunately we have a plane to catch." Grabbing his bag and coat, he opened the door and threw them into the back.
"How you plan to get all this through the security? Not to mention that you're a runaway criminal?" Sam quizzed as he side-stepped quicker than usual to get to the front seat.
"I have my ways, you'll see," Helmut responded and pressed the button to open the garage door. Sitting down behind the wheel felt nice. He had to admit, he missed driving.
Once on the road, the car fell into silence for a few moments with the radio playing quietly, before Sam ruined it by opening his mouth.
"So what? You took your kids on your little killing sprees?"
"Killing sprees, as you call it, involve a great amount of waiting around. We went sightseeing, mostly. Sometimes shopping." Helmut entertained his idiotic question as he sped up, darting in between the traffic. He smiled smugly catching James' eye-roll in the back mirror.
From their expressions, Helmut gathered that both Sam and James did not expect him to bring them into a small airport forty minutes outside the city and waltz through it like he owned it. The workers that noticed them simply nodded their heads in greeting and minded their business.
"So all this time you've been rich?" Sam asked, surprise evident in his voice as the three of them made their way towards a private jet that was parked on the runway.
"I'm a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country." Helmut explained as they walked past the plane's wing.
Oeznik was waiting for them by the stairs. Helmut smiled, genuinely happy to see his most loyal friend. The man was in his life as long as he could remember and he was there by his side when Nic and Carl were born, watching them over while he was away. Helmut owed him a debt that he could never repay.
"Hello, Oeznik." Helmut greeted him in Russian the moment he was close enough to be heard over the engine. Oeznik was the one who sat him through hours of Russian lessons many years ago. It was only fair that he would greet him in it.
"Welcome, gentlemen." Oeznik greeted them back in Russian, causing Helmut to grin wider. While James knew Russian better than anyone, Helmut wasn't sure if Sam did.
"Old friend." Helmut embraced him and kissed both of his cheeks. It had been too long. Nodding to him, Helmut turned to James and Sam. Partly to get them on the plane, and partially because he couldn't look at the man for too long, not when he was looking at him with such adoration. Like he was truly happy to see him. It felt wrong. Undeserving. It made his skin crawl.
"Please." Helmut invited them in and boarded the plane. It was one of the smaller jet's that belonged to him; a six-seater with a small gallery. Perfect for quick travel.
While Sam and Bucky got comfortable in their seats, Helmut took a moment to go through the gallery in hopes of finding something that would pass the time between taking off and reaching the optimal altitude. He wasn't a fan of how rocky the first part of the journey tended to be. Helmut could already hear them going back and forth between each other. Finding a book, he pulled out a small red notebook from his coat's pocket. He nicked it, mostly out of curiosity, from James when he wasn't paying attention. He was sure it would also help to understand where the soldier's mind was at currently. After having his memory scrambled for decades, he was bound to be desperate to write down anything important, in fears of forgetting it. It was only logical.
Putting it in the middle of the book, he returned to the cabin and picked a seat near Sam, so that he could have a viewpoint advantage to watch James. He took a look at him for a moment before opening the book and feigning his interest in it. The former Winter soldier had no idea that he lost something. Perhaps James was trying to suppress anything that had to do with the Winter Soldier, including his heightened senses.
Once they were airborne, Oeznik returned with a glass of champagne for him. Helmut chuckled softly and reached out for it, crossing his legs as he leaned back into his chair.
"Apologies if that's a little warm, the fridge is out. But I will see if there is some good food in the galley."
"If it doesn't pass the smell test… give it to them," Helmut suggested in Sokovian, tilting his head towards them, to give just enough suspicion that he was saying something about them. It was fun, getting under their skin. Besides, it wasn't likely that they would tell a difference even if they took the offer of food which he doubted they would. Probably would believe that he was trying to poison them.
"It's good to have you back, sir." Oeznik chuckled with affection in his voice and returned back to the gallery. Helmut tilted his glass before taking a sip, hoping to wash away the heaviness in his stomach that formed. He could think of a couple of things that would be better than him to have back.
"You don't know what it's like to be locked in a cell. Oh. That's right. You do." He couldn't help but deliver the dig, even at the expense of setting their 'friendship' a step backward. He wanted to acknowledge Sam's time in the RAFT, of the time that he was a prisoner just like himself. That they had something in common, not just an enemy. Also to hint that he kept up with the news, that he knew of their actions and steps, even all the way from a prison cell.
"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?" For what it's worth, Helmut had to give a point to Sam for not falling for the most basic bait.
Helmut instead of answering picked up his book and flicked through the notebook, settling on a list. He paused for a second. He was familiar with the names on it. After spending over a year learning everything there was about James' time as the Winter Soldier, he had Black widow to thank for making his job easier, he understood the meaning behind them. What took him by surprise was to see his own name amongst them.
"I'm sorry. I was just fascinated by this." Helmut changed the subject, concentrating on one name that he didn't recognize. Nakajima was circled a couple of times, most likely the most important name on the list. However, he never came across of a Nakajima in James' files. "I don't know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?"
James jumped from his seat and within a second, had the vibranium arm around his throat. The suddenness did catch him off guard, causing him to exhale sharply but he wasn't scared. The grip was tight, in a way that was meant to send a message, not to actually cause harm. Besides, why would you be scared of a thing you craved in the dead of night? Death wasn't something that could be used against him, not when he welcomed it years ago.
Helmut maintained eye contact, almost daring him to go further. To prove his point. That was what the serum did to people. Edged them towards extremes, and James Barnes was as extreme as one could get. A man-made killing machine.
"If you touch that again, I'll kill you." James declared, with a calmness in his voice that only people who had their hands dirty could muster. Touchy subject then. He yanked the notebook out of his hands and only then released his grip.
"I'm sorry," Helmut apologized, his voice sounding hoarser from the strain it just experienced. "I understand that list of names. People you've wronged as the Winter Soldier."'But why is my name important enough to you for you to write it down in your amends?' was left unasked.
"Don't push it." James bit out, becoming guarded once again, just like when he came to his cell. He reminded Helmut of a dog he used to see back home. Desperate for help, but too long on the streets to trust anyone.
"I've seen that book. It was Steve's when he came out of the ice." Sam noted with fondness in his voice. "I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What'd you think?"
"I like '40s music, so…" James replied, clenching his jaw.
"You didn't like it?"
"I liked it."
"It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience." Helmut joined in the conversation.
"He's out of line, but he's right. It's great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye."
"I like Marvin Gaye."
"Steve adored Marvin Gaye."
"You must have really looked up to Steve. But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America's Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals."
"Watch your step, Zemo." Sam warned him but he ignored it.
"They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought. You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? No. That is why we're going to Madripoor."
"What's up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it's Skull Island." Sam asked, glancing between him and James.
"It's an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s." James was the one to answer him. That was a light way of putting it.
"It's kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone."'But we both know that's not quite true don't we?' Helmut left unsaid.
The flight from Germany to Madripoor took roughly fourteen hours. For the first couple of hours, they sat in relative silence. Helmut drowned himself into the book while James looked out the window and Sam had his AirPods in, drumming his fingers against the armrest to the beat of a song.
Helmut shifted in his seat, closing the book. Sighing, he placed it on the chair opposite of him and stood up needing to stretch his legs. The jet didn't have that much space to walk so he chose to cross the gallery to refill his glass. With the drink in hand, he wandered down into the cockpit where Oeznik and another pilot were sitting.
"Sir." The pilot greeted him in Russian the moment he noticed him leaning against the door frame.
"Excellent flying, Dabrowski." Helmut smiled, crossing his arms. "haven't felt any turbulence."
"Thank you sir."
The cockpit fell into silence, not that Helmut minded. He was too used to it to find it uncomfortable. He watched the clouds pass them by, sipping the champagne. Feeling eyes on him, he turned to Oeznik.
"Did they treat you alright, Helmut? Truly?" Oeznik asked, switching to Sokovian while looking at him with such adoration and worry that Helmut had to look away yet again. He cleared his throat and plastered a smile on his face. Even to himself it felt forced.
"Of course Oeznik, you worry too much." He chided him gently. The man always fussed about him. He always fretted over Ivana as well, concerned if she ate enough throughout the day. Never went a day without secretly giving Nic and Carl a piece of candy even if Carl never was able to keep it a secret.
"Well it has been my job for over forty years and you tend to find trouble around every corner." The older man chuckled fondly.
"Nonsense, I'm always on my best behavior. How have you been? I imagine you enjoyed the much-needed vacation days." Helmut changed the subject easily. He didn't want to linger on what once was.
"If I knew your drastic ways of making me take the vacation days off, I would have taken them sooner," Oeznik joked before his smile fell away. "Things have been quiet. It a strange thing to get used to. Even after all these years, I expect to hear Nic and Car, to just pop out around any corner that I turn. I make sure they always have fresh flowers, especially Ivana. She was hellbent on having fresh flowers around the house."
His voice broke, thick with emotion. Helmut had to bite down the inside of his cheek to keep himself composed. The metallic taste filled his mouth and as he ran his tongue over the spot, it sent a small jolt of pain.
It had been so long since he saw their graves. He only went there once, to watch their caskets be lowered into a deep hole. As if that somehow could have brought him some sort of closure, as if it would have granted him the ability to say goodbye. The thought of returning, of stepping a foot in that damned graveyard, of looking at three tombstones, side by side, washed him over with such coldness that even if he jumped into antarctic water he would have been warmer. Shame flooded him. What kind of a man did not visit his own family? What kind of a husband, a father, would let them rot alone.
"Thank you, Oeznik. I'll…" Helmut swallowed, trying to find the words that seemed determined to be stuck in his throat and left unsaid. "I'll make sure to pay them a visit. Later."
Helmut did what he did best; he lied. You told her they would be safe. Look how that turned out.
Made another useless promise, knowing full well he couldn't walk down that path, not without putting a bullet in himself and joining them.
Madripoor was just as vivid and bright as he remembered. The lights of the High Town shone from miles away. They stopped by Helmut's safe house, where James and Sam reluctantly changed into a set of clothes that wouldn't instantly attract attention to them. Especially for the roles that they would have to play if they wanted to get information. Unsurprisingly, it took longer to convince Sam to dress up than it did James.
"We have to fix this. I'm the only one who looks like a pimp." Sam groaned out, looking at his apparel for the tenth time in disgust.
"Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp." Helmut sighed as he dug out his phone and split his attention between looking at the road in front of them and through the gallery to find a picture of Conrad Mack. "You look exactly like the man you're supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger."
"He even has a bad nickname." Sam took a glance at the picture. "he does look like me, though."
Sam passed the phone back to him. The closer they walked to the city, the sharper the distinct stench became.
"You smell this?" Helmut asked keeping his attention upfront. A car was arranged to collect them at any moment now, but anything could happen between now and then. He rather not have surprises popping up at them in a place like this. Even he didn't know the city that well and he doubted many people would be willing to help out.
"Yeah, what is that? Acid?"
More like a combined mixture of the fumes from the buildings, production of drugs, all the imported animals and God knows what else. Helmut had no doubt that the water surrounding the city was toxic and could kill someone if they fell into it.
"Madripoor."
A bright beam of headlights flashed them as a car came to a stop a short distance away from them.
"No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There's no margin for error." Helmut explained calmly, barely moving his lips just in case the driver felt particularly nosy. They could trust no one.
"High Town's that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town's the other way." He added, opening the passenger door.
"Let me guess. We don't have any friends in High Town." Sam said as he walked around the car.
Helmut gave him a smile and sat down in the front. The destination, Brass Monkey, was already agreed during the call so Helmut only needed to forward the payment before the car moved in the direction of Low Town.
It did not take long until several motorcycles surrounded their car. Someone already knew of their arrival before they even took a step inside Low Town. Helmut's money was on the Power Broker, which was not the best news for them. He watched Sam turn around and look behind him through the rear-view mirror.
Once the car stopped, Helmut nodded to the driver and exited the car. Wordlessly, he led James and Sam through the streets, passing armed guards, dealers, and hookers until they arrived at Brass Monkey.
"Here we are. Remember your roles no matter what happens." He reminded them again, giving a hard look to Sam. He knew once James got into the role of the Winter Soldier again, there would be very little that could affect him enough to give up their act. It was Sam who made him nervous. His seemingly constant need to check up and staring at James might be the thing that gets them caught. The last thing they needed was for the whole city-state to put a bounty on their head.
The inside was packed with all sorts of lowlifes.
"Ready to comply… Winter Soldier?" Helmut asked James in Russian, loud enough for people to hear and for whispering to begin. He needed the whispers to travel to the right people. Not only would it get them to Selby faster, but it would also buy him security. Winter Soldier's reputation around these parts was well known, not many would want to dive headfirst at them.
Helmut lead them to the bar and took a quick glance around. For the most part, there was no one that stood out or seemed out of place. He noticed that to their right a couple of feet away, two women stood together, but only one of them kept her eyes trained on them. It was the insistent staring that caught his attention. Unfortunately, he couldn't tell much about them, the taller one wore a hood and the one that was watching them had a mask that covered half of her face. The mask reminded him of what the Winter Soldier used to wear. The Bar's security perhaps. Or maybe an interested party.
"Hello, gentlemen. Wasn't expecting you, Smiling Tiger." The barman approached them, distracting him from the two women. He took a look at Sam but didn't appear to be suspicious over his appearance.
"His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby." Helmut answered instead. They had agreed that he would do all the talking and they would simply need to nod along and look pretty.
"The usual?"
There came their test. Seeing the barman take a cobra out of a glass container and drag a knife across it, Helmut sighed dramatically, expressing his feigned happiness at receiving Sam's 'favourite' drink. It was made out Gin, Triple Sec, Cobra heart, and finger lim.
"Smiling Tiger, your favorite." He emphasized with a smile on his face. Helmut had to admit, it was going to be fun.
The barman placed their drinks on the table.
"I love these," Sam spoke up and looked at him, holding the shot as far away as he could from himself.
"Cheers, Conrad." Helmut clinked their glasses and knocked back the shot. It burned his throat as it went down, the heart adding that extra kick of spice to the mix. It wouldn't be his first choice of drink, but it wasn't the worst that he tasted.
"Mmm. Mmm."
While Sam tried to force himself to drink the shot before it became too obvious, Helmut glanced to the corner of the table again. The woman with the hood was gone but the second one was interested in watching Sam with the drink. They definitely had an audience. Not so good.
Hearing someone approach from behind, Helmut turned in time to see the Power Broker's henchman coming up.
"I got word from on high. You ain't welcome here."
Helmut considered his words carefully. They needed to prove that James was under his control. These types of talks often needed a bargaining chip and what was better than a Winter Soldier?
"I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…" he responded and gestured to James who was stiffly standing beside him.
"New haircut?"
"Or bring Selby for a chat."
After a glance at James, the henchman left them alone. Hopefully to get Selby. Licking his lips, Helmut turned back to the bar.
"A Power Broker? Really?" James muttered out lowly, unimpressed with the name. Not that Helmut could blame him, the name was a little bit cliché.
"Every kingdom needs its king. Let's just pray we stay under his radar." Helmut shrugged. The one time that he indirectly dealt with the Power Broker was back in '08, when the EKO Scorpion needed to obtain a particular nerve agent for one of their missions. Even back then, you did not want to get on the wrong side of the Power Broker. He didn't even want to imagine how big his empire was now.
"Do you know him?" Sam whispered, glancing around the bar.
"Only by reputation. In Madripoor he is the judge, jury, and executioner." Helmut elaborated and tilted his head to their watcher. "And has eyes and ears everywhere. She hasn't stopped watching us ever since we stepped a foot near the bar."
Sam's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise and he glanced in her direction. Helmut didn't have much time to say anything else. More of the Power Broker's men were making their way towards them.
"Winter Soldier." Helmut looked at James dead in the eye. "Attack."
He ordered in Russian just as a hand gripped his shoulder. James did not hesitate, ripping the man's arm off him and bending it backward. Dragging him towards the centre of the room, he broke the man's arm in half and threw a punch in his face using the prosthetic arm, rendering the man useless on the floor.
Helmut smiled. He was right after all. No matter how much James denied, the Winter Soldier was right there, still inside him. The bystanders took out their phones, filming as the Winter Soldier single-handedly took out anyone that came at him.
Helmut stood back and apart from pushing a couple of them into Winter Soldier's path, he watched the scene unfold. James was lethal, just like he was all the way back when they first met and Helmut uttered the words of his programming. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the woman leaning her body over the counter as she said something to the barman who promptly left with a phone pressed to his ear.
"Didn't take much for him to fall back into form." Helmut chuckled, shrugging his shoulders at Sam who seemed a little bit pale. He barely paid any attention to Helmut, his eyes only watching James.
The Winter Soldier grabbed someone by the throat and lifted him in the air before throwing him over the counter. The sound of multiple guns cocking behind them made Helmut's heart skip a single beat. Glancing around, it seemed like every single person was arming themselves. Sam gripped James' forearm causing Helmut to hiss out:
"Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us."
The Flying Tiger certainly would not be touching James' without wishing a swift death sentence. James' not reacting to a threat, allowing a touch on himself would blow their cover to pieces. Sam let go.
"Well done, soldier." Helmut praised James, replacing Sam's hand on him with his own. He needed to take control of the situation and fast.
The barman returned and nodded to the woman.
"Selby will see you now. Follow me, gentlemen." She spoke out for the first time, rising from her seat. The honeyed voice twinged with a familiar accent ripped the breath right out of Helmut's lungs. Even muffled by the mask, it was distinguishable in all the ways that it couldn't have been possible. It halted him to the spot, unable so much as to inhale the air that his lungs started to scream for. He did not see James let go of the man or Sam cast him a confused look when he made no move to follow.
This was not possible.
I 'll try to update the fic once a week to keep somewhat consistent schedule :)
Please let me know what you think and I can't wait to bring you more content soon x
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