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Who: James "Bucky" Barnes & Brock Rumlow
When: Pre-Civil War
What: Rumlow has abandoned HYDRA and putting together teams for missions; he found evidence of the Winter Soldier and decides that the former HYDRA-weapon would be a great addition to the team.
Warnings: TBA
It was one of his more dangerous missions, if there was such a thing anymore. At this point, everything that he did had an element of danger to it, the potential to end this miserable existence that he had taken up. It had to be done though, not entirely because he felt a little bad for standing by but more because taking things from HYDRA had become part of the point now. His skills hadn't diminished and that made it relatively easy to do that, to sell himself to the highest bidder to complete the missions that no one else would.
There was no getting back the life that he had before the fall of the Triskelion. With its fall (literally on him), he had lost everything. Some who knew him well that weren't in prison might have even whispered that the scars were just an external show of his new madness.
That might have been why he was ascending the multiple stories of stairs to a small apartment in Bucharest, Romania. It was a good place to hide, highly populated but also so far away from the original blow up in the United States that it would be easy to disappear into. The apartment building itself was many stories high and it was on the lower-end of price range so it was another sign of someone just wanting to be left alone. It was only by chance that he had found this thread, but damn if he was going to not take the extreme risk to pull on it.
Hence why he was easing up the stairs alone with a hoodie pulled up over his head to hide his scars. He kept his gear light, aware that it would do him any good if he needed to move his ass; he also knew there was no point gearing up because the Winter Soldier could tear him apart regardless. This was about giving the perception that he came in relative peace, that he had something worthwhile to offer. That was why he only carried a single Glock 19 sidearm as his main weapon.
Pausing on the landing, he pulled out a piece of paper to check the apartment number and then approached the door, pressing lightly on it. The way that it subtly moved told him that there was no added weight, no alterations to it, so he did what any man would when searching for a ghost. He broke into the apartment quickly and effectively; this was nothing compared to the places he was used to getting into.
Easing inside, Rumlow could already tell the sad pathetic existence that the former Winter Soldier led. Papers on the windows blotted out light and the ability to see inside; there was a musty smell of a plain existence and shit, were those cinder blocks holding up a shelf? Well, he didn't expect more, but that didn't mean that the Winter Soldier was any less dangerous.
"Winter?" He might have been a handler and extremely good at his job while performing it, but even he understood the need to break certain rules. Naming the Soldier something other than a title might have been why they had worked well together. For him, a weapon was more than an object.
When: Pre-Civil War
What: Rumlow has abandoned HYDRA and putting together teams for missions; he found evidence of the Winter Soldier and decides that the former HYDRA-weapon would be a great addition to the team.
Warnings: TBA
It was one of his more dangerous missions, if there was such a thing anymore. At this point, everything that he did had an element of danger to it, the potential to end this miserable existence that he had taken up. It had to be done though, not entirely because he felt a little bad for standing by but more because taking things from HYDRA had become part of the point now. His skills hadn't diminished and that made it relatively easy to do that, to sell himself to the highest bidder to complete the missions that no one else would.
There was no getting back the life that he had before the fall of the Triskelion. With its fall (literally on him), he had lost everything. Some who knew him well that weren't in prison might have even whispered that the scars were just an external show of his new madness.
That might have been why he was ascending the multiple stories of stairs to a small apartment in Bucharest, Romania. It was a good place to hide, highly populated but also so far away from the original blow up in the United States that it would be easy to disappear into. The apartment building itself was many stories high and it was on the lower-end of price range so it was another sign of someone just wanting to be left alone. It was only by chance that he had found this thread, but damn if he was going to not take the extreme risk to pull on it.
Hence why he was easing up the stairs alone with a hoodie pulled up over his head to hide his scars. He kept his gear light, aware that it would do him any good if he needed to move his ass; he also knew there was no point gearing up because the Winter Soldier could tear him apart regardless. This was about giving the perception that he came in relative peace, that he had something worthwhile to offer. That was why he only carried a single Glock 19 sidearm as his main weapon.
Pausing on the landing, he pulled out a piece of paper to check the apartment number and then approached the door, pressing lightly on it. The way that it subtly moved told him that there was no added weight, no alterations to it, so he did what any man would when searching for a ghost. He broke into the apartment quickly and effectively; this was nothing compared to the places he was used to getting into.
Easing inside, Rumlow could already tell the sad pathetic existence that the former Winter Soldier led. Papers on the windows blotted out light and the ability to see inside; there was a musty smell of a plain existence and shit, were those cinder blocks holding up a shelf? Well, he didn't expect more, but that didn't mean that the Winter Soldier was any less dangerous.
"Winter?" He might have been a handler and extremely good at his job while performing it, but even he understood the need to break certain rules. Naming the Soldier something other than a title might have been why they had worked well together. For him, a weapon was more than an object.
no subject
But he's right, of course. In that it's nothing he'll trust him with right out the gate. Not some sort of thing where Bucky trusts him enough to even really talk about it, no matter how clear it is that Rumlow knows enough about what they did to him. It was a near thing, punching him for bringing it up. But he also wanted to know just what he was offering, so here they were. Bucky still stays quiet, still.
Then he moves, walks into the kitchen- still keeping an eye on Rumlow, even if they both know it wouldn't help his cause to attack him now. He writes something on a piece of paper, and folds it. It's coordinates, and a number. He knows drop locations, picks them up just by inhabiting an area, and a lot of them are old things from his hydra days. This isn't one of them. It's a sort of risk, but not a particularly large one. Bucky knows he's good enough to pick up a reason to run long before it comes down to it. He hands over the slip of paper with a slight shrug to his broad shoulders.
"You have twenty-four hours. Briefing and a burner phone. If I like the specs, I'll call you."
It's one chance. It's also a forceful changing of the rules he was under as the Winter Soldier. He could stand being Winter, because it was a piece of identity he'd stolen when there had been so little to have, and that meant something. And insisting on Bucky just gave Rumlow information he wasn't sure he wanted him to have. But the only way he was doing this was if he got choice and information.
"Now will you get out?"
no subject
It was better for them both to keep matters cordial, he knew. He understood Winter's need to be paranoid and violent towards anyone that had previous associations with HYDRA, even if he called them previous. He was a skilled liar after all, and he had out-acted even Romanoff who was known to be able to sniff out enemy agents if she was given any kind of indication something was off. Or maybe he had always just been so far beneath her notice that there was no need to give him or STRIKE a second glance.
He'd never know. He didn't care. Right now, it was about establishing something with someone who was also recently free from the clutches of brainwashing that game with being a HYDRA operative. He liked to think that he could scratch Winter's back and Winter could scratch his.
Yet, he reached out and took the piece of folded paper, not bothering to open it up and examine it here and now. Again, it was a show of trust, that he was receiving good information. He nodded his head to the stipulations, agreeing to them without even questioning.
"Seems like we're gonna be working together again. Good times ahead," he replied with a smirk that twisted up the scar tissue on the left side of his face. He was confident that they would run at least one op together and see how things went. "You won't be disappointed."
He turned, tucking the paper in his pocket and moved to the door because yes, he would respond by getting out. He eased the door open after listening at it for signs of other people and then looked back, winking at Winter. "Dress appropriately for our hot date," he teased and then slipped out of the door, allowing it to close quietly behind him. Then he descended the stairs, only pulling out the paper halfway down to the bottom floor to investigate the location.
Seemed legit.