“Barnes?” The caller—the voice, low, possibly female, doesn’t ring any bells—asks.
“Speaking.”
“You’re a hard man to reach.”
Part II
Bucky pauses. There’s something niggling at him there—something familiar about that voice, but he can’t place it. “What do you want?” he asks. Instead of the perhaps more reasonable Who are you. Thing is, people lie a lot less about the job they want you to get done than who they are or why they want it. And lies are a needless waste of time.
“I need you in L.A. in three hours. Can you make that happen?” Yeah, he definitely knows the caller. But from where?
Bucky raises an eyebrow at the timeline. Three hours are nothing. Especially in a global business. It’s pure luck that he’s in town—and not something anyone could have predicted, since he hadn’t decided on it until two days ago.
“Maybe,” is what he settles on. “Why the rush?”
“The job is time-sensitive,” the woman on the other end replies calmly. She doesn’t sound like she’s in a rush. Or panicking. A professional, definitely. “I have an object in need of retrieval within the next twenty-four hours.”
It sounds like a threat. Bucky shrugs it off. “Where?”
“The object is located on the nineteenth floor of the offices of Benzler and Sons on the Whilshire Boulevard. High-level security, hired professionals , high-tech alarm system. It’s important that none of the alarms are set off. The goal is to remove the item without anyone being the wiser.” At least the woman gets to the point fast. Bucky appreciates that.
“That’s impossible,” he replies honestly. “A job like that needs two weeks prep, minimum. And that’s when you expect medium security measures.”
“You will receive all the specs and data you need within an hour.” The woman doesn’t sound particularly worried. But if she’s as good as Bucky suspects she is, she has to know that this can’t be done.
“Lady, aren’t you listening? It’s not possible. Even if I wanted to do it, I’d need more time.”
“We don’t have more time,” the woman snaps, voice cold. And that—that ice cold intonation and shapes words like they are her most well-honed weapon—that Bucky recognises.
“Romanoff?” Just because he recognises it though, doesn’t mean he believes it. Word on the street is, Romanoff got out of the game three years ago. And hell, even if that isn’t true—“Last time we talked, you were working for the lawyers, not against them.”
Not that there had been much talking to begin with. 2005 wasn’t one of Bucky’s best years. He tries not to remember too much of it, for the most part. Romanoff, though, is a hard woman to forget.
“Last time we talked, you were looking at three life-sentences in France,” Romanoff shoots back. It’s not an answer, but it tells Bucky that she’s serious—and that’s all he really needs to know.
“Touché.”
“You come highly recommended, Mr Barnes,” Romanoff continues as though he hasn’t spoken at all. “I’m confident you’ll be able to pull this off.”
“Who says I want to?” Bucky has worked hard to carve himself out the kind of reputation that means he gets to choose his jobs. It’s not something he’s willing to throw away. And just because he knows Romanoff, doesn’t mean he trusts her. It means he knows better than to trust her.
There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Romanoff takes a slow breath. “You owe me,” she says.
Bucky scowls. But he doesn’t deny it.
“Be at Westlake in two hours. You’ll get your intel there.” At least Romanoff is smart enough to move on from his wordless capitulation before he gets pissed off. “Oh, and Barnes?”
“What?” Bucky grunts, shoulders his bag. The shirt and his bloodied pants won’t do. He’ll need new clothes.
“You should probably keep your phone on mute for this job.” And with that, the line goes dead.
“How did she-” Bucky stares at the burner in his hand with renewed suspicion. He’s gonna dump it the moment this job is done, that’s for sure. If he gets the job done, that is. Bucky’s scowl deepens at the thought.
The kick to Cordin’s face—definitely broken nose— as he passes the goons by is perhaps over the top, but Bucky isn’t known for playing nice. Or being forgiving.
