#gftp

Maeve winced in pain as the com made a high pitched whine. She dug the device out of her ear and threw it on the snow covered ground, phone then buzzing.

“You alright, Parker?” Clint asked. “We can’t find your location.”

Maeve sighed and looked around the forest. “Yeah, Barton. Just great. I think there is some sort of jammer here. Ruined my ear piece,” she whispered.

“Get to the rendezvous. I’m not having you blind and without communication,” Clint ordered.

“Barton, it’s fine.”

“Maeve,” Clint stated sternly.

Maeve pressed her lips into a tight line. Clint never used her first name in the field.

“Alright. I’m heading to the rendezvous. You better be there Barton.” Maeve hung up and headed off towards the location, mentally chiding Clint. This was the first lead on the assassin in months. She was a bit pissed to having it scrapped all because Clint had to go all big brother on her. Not like he was her actual brother, but since he had been the one to take her in and introduce her to SHIELD, he assumed the role.

And he and Steve were the only ones that knew exactly how old Maeve was. She stopped aging in 1940, at the age of 20; she grew up with Steve: went to the same school, same church. She heard that Steve was alive, but stayed her distance. She was use to changing her name and appearance every 10 or so years, but when Clint stumbled upon her, she didn’t think she would bump into her old friend. At least she could go by Maeve again.

A snap of a branch behind her interrupted her thoughts. She stopped and turned her head so her six was in her peripheral, her hand on her holstered gun, her other holding her phone, dialing Clint’s number. She slowly turned around as her phone refusing to connect her.

Damn it.

She shoved the phone back into her pocket and walked slowly backward in the direction she was originally going, drawing her gun as a precaution. At the moment she heard only her own footsteps crunching in the snow. The woods was eerily silent, and she hoped she was only minutes away from the rendezvous. Maeve was normally confident in missions by herself, but she always had her com, so if she needed backup, it was there.

She heard another twig snap, and she moved to be behind a big pine tree, listening intently, hoping that it was just an animal. She peeked around the trunk, when her vision was briefly impaired by shards of tree trunk, the bullet missing her by millimeters.

“Shit!” Maeve exclaimed. “Definitely not an animal.” There was another thwack as another bullet hits the tree trunk. Maeve looked around trying to figure out an escape plan, as more bullets cut into wood. She decided to run for the tree directly next to her, and rolled behind it. She heard the shooter stop and she waited on baited breath. She heard footsteps coming in her direction, but they stopped. Maeve steadied herself and gingerly looked around to the left of the tree. She saw nothing, heard nothing.

Then a click.

She ducked just as the gun went off and swept her leg to the right, knocking down the assailant, and popping back up. She looked down holding her gun at the body and gasped. The person had a metal arm, face obscured by goggles, a mask, and long, brown hair.

Fucking seriously? The Winter Soldier?

Maeve backed up and the man got up, and pulled out a knife from his vest. She fired a shot at him, only to be evaded effortlessly. He swung his arm that brandished the knife at her middle and she dodged. He knocked her gun out of her hand and landed a kick to her abdomen. Maeve grunted and righted herself.

“So that’s how this is going to go?” she asked as the assailant swung at her with his metal arm, landing a punch to her right side. Maeve winced and blocked the knife coming up towards her chest, using his momentum to flip him over, landing a step kick to his face, knocking off his mask. Maeve took the advantage of the assassin being down, and took off towards the rendezvous.

She felt her head being yanked back by her hair; she turned, landing a jab to his groin area, then grabbed his shoulders, kneeing him in the torso continuously until he let her go. Maeve took off running again, looking over her shoulder. She faltered as she saw his face for the first time.

“Bucky?” Maeve gasped, just as he deflected an arrow. Maeve turned to see Clint loading his bow with another.

“Maeve! Go! I’ll cover you!” Clint ordered her.

“Clint,” she started.

“Go!”

Maeve took off towards the quinjet, replaying the image in her head. Did she really see Bucky? Steve’s best friend before he was iced?

She reached the quinjet and Clint was right behind her. As the door closes, and Clint gets into the pilot’s seat, Maeve rubbed her face, swearing.

“Who–what was that?” Clint asked after a few minutes.

Maeve let out a heavy sigh. “That,” she hesitated, “that was the Winter Soldier. But this is much bigger than before Clint.”

“Why?” Clint had a perplexed look on his face.

“It’s Bucky. Steve’s friend from before and…” she trailed off.