Bucharest, Romania
Southwest Rooftop
11:09 a.m.
He hadn’t seen anything like it. With how fast, how deliberate his strikes were, Bucky was surprised he could even see it. His moves were almost near-identical to his own, perhaps even smoother, more deadly and precise. Bucky did his best to block each strike, forearms meeting forearms, fists meeting anywhere that was open, and even legs managing to bend in ways Bucky hadn’t thought possible during a physical fight.
But they did. He swung his leg so quick that Bucky almost hadn’t seen the foot slam into his cheek. Whoever he was, he followed quickly with a knee to Bucky’s chest, launching the Winter Soldier right into a large heater. Bucky shook his head, waving away the stars and dipped to the left the moment the claws were headed for his face.
He rolled away from the heater, hearing the claws slash against the solid metal surface. He rolled to his feet, his adversary already turning his way. But for some reason he stood there, didn’t advance, didn’t move. Bucky held his ground, unsure of the situation, then froze just as well. Bucky heard it, and by some strange connection the two enemies had, he must have heard it to.
The whistle. The brief, little break of air ripping through the millisecond of silence. Instinctively, Bucky ducked as the bullet soared right over him, impacting the air conditioner to his left. The man in the black suit turned his empty gaze to the direction of the shot, spotting the sniper on a far-off rooftop. Beneath his mask, his gaze sharpened, his jaw tightening.
The Soldier was his.
Turning back to the Winter Soldier, he noticed his shocked gaze focused on the sniper, as well. He dove forward and tackled him, his claws already aimed for the murderer’s throat.
Finally catching up and still several flights of stairs above, Captain America stepped outside, his eyes landing on Bucky and a new face going at it on the rooftop below. Narrowing his gaze, he turned right, spotting Sam’s lengthy wingspan in the distance, the rainbow trail right next to him. The two were coming in close.
“Sam, Dash, southwest rooftop,” the Captain addressed in his comms, backing away from the edge of the building.
“Who the hell’s the other guy?”
The Captain took a deep breath. “About to find out,” he said, taking off at a full sprint. Pressing his foot at the edge of the railing, the Captain leapt off towards the building below. With just enough space, he landed and rolled, taking off towards Bucky and the new adversary.
He neared the back of the adversary, his attention latched onto Bucky beneath him. The Captain was just about to take him to the ground when the sound of gunfire tore him off course. He rolled to safety, eyes shooting back to see a military helicopter emerge, firing away at the man in the black suit. The rounds hit their mark, but to the Captain’s surprise he noticed each one deflecting off the suit’s exterior, the man turning his eyes back to the chopper.
His jaw nearly fell. The Captain couldn’t believe it. The bullets hit him right in the forehead, and yet he still stood.
The suit must’ve been stronger than he imagined. Still, he noticed the chopper remaining where it was, aiming down to them. Aiming for Bucky. Pressing onto his comms, the Captain said, “Sam, Dash, take out the gunner.”
“We’re on it.”
Looking up, the Captain spotted Sam and Dash up above. Sam drove the bottom of his feet into the tail of the chopper, knocking the gunner’s aim off. Just for good measure, Rainbow flew inside and applied a strong buck into the side of the gunner’s head. Rainbow escaped, the chopper flying out of sight. Turning back to the scuffle, the Captain noticed both Bucky and his adversary already gone. He spotted the man in the black suit leap off the building.
The Captain followed quickly. Standing near the edge, he saw Bucky making a run for it, the mysterious adversary right on his tail. Leaping downwards, rolling as he landed, the Captain took off as fast as he could, and surprisingly enough, it wasn’t enough to catch the adversary. Just wasn’t.
His speeds easily matched that of the two super soldiers, seeming to grow faster than even the Captain or the Soldier.
Steve bit his lip and kicked it into high gear. He just about matched his speed.
Who was this guy?
The Rooftops
11:11 a.m.
Who was that guy?
Whoever he was, he caused Castle’s target to flee out of sight and out of range. He tried to readjust his scope and position and aim down the street, but there were too many civilians. Too much for even a slight draft to cause the biggest difference. Castle couldn’t have that. The three of them; the Winter Soldier, black tights, and the star-spangled man himself all hurried down the road, pushing through civilians.
The Winter Soldier jumped down into a tunnel system. Unamused, Castle reached back and slid his rifle into the holster ached to his backside. He spun around and reached into his bag perched on a nearby air conditioner. He unveiled the grappling hook launcher, returning to the edge of the building and aiming down the crosshairs.
Clear building slightly left, railing in sight. He fired away, the hook sailing off into a far-off window and shattering it. He retracted the line, the hook snatching the railing and holding there. He tightened the rope, breaking the end from his launcher and tying it safely and securely around the metal legs of a nearby heater. Retrieving a spare hook from his bag—and snatching the bag as well—Castle placed his hook on the rope, got the best grip he could manage, and slid down.
Straight down. Straight to the street. Several civilians spotted the man riding the rope down, backing away as he finally touched ground. Castle didn’t pay them any heed, and when they spotted his rifle they made the right decision and took off in every opposite direction.
Speaking of said rifle, Castle plucked it from its holster and approached the edge of the tunnel system. More screams from civilians, some distant sirens approaching. Not good. He needed to make the last shot count and bug out as fast as possible. Zooming right over the star-spangled man and passed black tights, his crosshairs landed on the Winter Soldier, right between the shoulder blades.
He wanted to pull the trigger right then and there. Dammit, he wanted to, but his instinct told him otherwise. Several shocked gasps emerged from behind, too late to be directed to him. He ripped his rifle back as he spun fully around, nearly dodging the strike from the man in the red tights.
The Devil. He was here. Son of a bitch.
He looked almost out of breath, his chest rising and falling, his jaw unhinging every second. He looked from his baton pressed firmly on the metal railing then quickly to Castle, his breath somewhat caught. And for a moment, Castle nearly did the same. He allowed himself a second longer staring into those twin red eyes of his, that damn devil mask that he always wore. It was him, alright, and that only meant one thing if he followed Castle all the way to Romania.
“Not this time, Red.”
And with that, Frank Castle slammed the butt of his rifle against Daredevil’s temple. The crowds screamed, fleeing from the sight. The Devil dropped to his knees, already beginning to rise again. Castle looked back down the tunnel, all three men already out of sight. The sirens were growing louder.
Castle shook his head, placed his sniper right back in its holster and took off down the sidewalk.
He didn’t look back to see the Devil stumble to his feet, nor did he notice him quickly on his tail.
Mid-Chase
11:13 a.m.
The German Special Forces arrived in droves. Perfect. Just what Steve needed.
Hot on the tail of their adversary, the Captain spun around to notice the growing sirens and the approaching police vehicles. One in particular got a little too comfortable with the Captain, driving close to him. The driver, unshaken, shouted through his radio, “Stand down!”
It slid right next to him, the driver screaming the same order a second time. The Captain complied by jumping shield-first into the windshield. As planned, the driver stopped the vehicle, the Captain hopping off the hood and ripping the door open. He pried the driver from his seat and occupied the vehicle, kicking the windshield off and pressing hard on the gas.
There was Bucky still cars ahead, but their adversary was approaching quickly. The Captain was certain to pass him, his destination centered solely on his friend. However, he heard a slight bump near the rear of the car, prompting his attention in the rear-view.
And there he was. Steve jerked the wheel right, then left, then right again. No use. He was stuck like glue. “Sam, I can’t shake this guy,” Steve declared in his comms
“Don’t worry, Cap! I’m on your tail!”
Steve spun his neck around, spotting Rainbow Dash’s rainbow trail quickly approaching his vehicle.
“Be careful, Rainbow!” Sam warned. “This cat can hold his own!”
“I’ll be fine!”
Steve kept his focus forward, his hands on the wheel, his eyes on Bucky. More and more police vehicles arrived, blocking Bucky’s path, creating a special detour once Bucky hopped over the barreled-railing. They exited the darkness of the tunnels, Bucky stopping in the middle of the street. For a second, Steve thought he was finally coming to, ready to be picked up.
He had other plans. A nearby motorcyclist was unfortunately caught in the crossfire. Yanking the bike from the rider, Bucky slammed the motorcycle down and hopped on, revving hard and taking off yet again. Steve gritted his teeth, sighed, and pressed even harder on the gas. His attention was brought upwards upon the familiar sound of hooves on the roof.
The mysterious black adversary clawed his way to the roof of the vehicle he had hitched a ride on, only to be stopped halfway by a familiar sight to him. It stood in the center of the roof of the vehicle, wings displayed in a sign of intimidation, and looking down at him. An equine, a Pegasus, flowing rainbow mane and a scowl that could frighten.
It didn’t, though.
For a moment, he froze, and just listened to her.
“Alright, bub! You think you can just waltz in here and take Bucky away from us?! You got another thing comin’, you—WHOA!”
He remembered he didn’t have time, especially not for her. Reaching forward with speeds Rainbow wasn’t ready for, he gripped a handful of her mane and flung her aside. Her screams were short-lived, as he assumed her wings would allow for a safe landing. By the time his feet were touching the roof, he was already off, jumping on the hood of the vehicle and leaping forward, his target in close range.
But once he was in killing range, the Winter Soldier shot his right arm out and caught the adversary by his throat. In a desperate attempt to escape, the adversary pressed his feet onto the tunnel’s wall, pushing out and knocking the motorcycle on its side. The effort proved fruitless, as the bike was still going strong, the Winter Soldier’s left arm digging into the solid street. Sparks flew, the lights dancing across the adversary’s chest and face.
Bucky looked back. The adversary brought up his claws, leaving him open for a kick straight in the chest.
Rolling to regain his footing the black-suited stranger brought his attention back. There, he saw a man with great wings soon heading right over him. The Falcon. The adversary leaped upwards, latching himself onto the Falcon’s feet. He dug his claws into his leg, earning a roaring cry from the man. He felt the man trying to kick him off, but to no avail.
Together, they flew past the Captain still driving the police vehicle, growing closer to the Winter Soldier. Noticing this, Bucky—with a last attempt—flung a sticky grenade to the roof of the tunnel just before he entered the sunlight. Steve saw the grenade, he saw it erupt, he saw the edge of the tunnel’s roof come collapsing downwards.
Sam felt the stranger crawl higher onto his leg. Seeing the rubble begin to fall, Sam flung him right off of his leg and sent him soaring right into the falling debris, right into the explosion.
After breaking through the falling debris, the mysterious adversary saw the end of the motorcycle in range. He wouldn’t be able to latch himself on, so instead he did the next best thing: he sliced the back tire. The bike turned awkwardly and rolled, both the Winter Soldier and the adversary tumbling together in a mix of limbs.
Noticing the rising pile of rubble, the Captain swerved the car to hopefully drive around it, but to no luck. The vehicle hit the rubble on its side, the entire car flipping and rolling down the sunlight-lit road. Steve was tumbled and slammed like clothes in a washing machine, the vehicle finally coming to a rest, both Bucky and the black-suited strange doing the same.
The second they did, Rainbow Dash burst through the falling debris. Her attention was centered primly on the man in the black suit, her teeth grinding in agitation, her brow furrowing in anger. No one tosses Rainbow aside and gets away with it.
He arose to his feet, only to be promptly slammed back into the concrete by an unnatural force to his backside. He clawed at the concrete, creating long slashes into the solid road, and brought his attention to the direction of the hit. Again, it was the Pegasus, this time appearing much more furious, much more on edge than their previous encounter.
And she stood between him and his target.
“Alright… let’s try that again,” she growled, wings outstretching. “You want him… you’re gonna have to get through me.”
He replied by displaying his claws outwardly, lowering himself in a pounce-like stance.
Rainbow sent out a war cry to hopefully intimidate her opponent. It didn’t work, as he blocked her oncoming strikes with fluid precision and tactic. Just as well, he replied by delivering a strong punch into her stomach, a second strike to her foreleg, and a slash across her left cheek. Dash cried out and clutched the left side of her face, completely unprepared for the kick that sent her crashing into the red support beam.
All in less than three seconds.
Dash slid down the support beam and lay on the concrete, clutching her face and moaning in pain. The adversary cast her one final glance before he quickly returned to his target. He lay before him, vulnerable, completely unaware of his situation. He raised his claw above his head and prepared to bring it down for a guaranteed kill shot.
And he was once more interrupted.
A stronger force than before tackled him and flung him aside. He dug his claws into the street, spotting the next foe to dare stand in his path. And for a moment longer, he froze yet again. It was no equine, but the Captain. Captain America, standing much like the equine had: between him and his target. The shield attached to his left forearm signaled a defensive position, much like how the equine used her own body to defend the murderer. And just as well, the fury in his eyes was as raw as hers.
After a short confrontation, the Captain asked, “You okay, Dash?”
Prodding her cheek, Rainbow Dash flinched at the large gash going from the bottom of her left eye to her jaw bone. She hissed at the pain, fresh blood painting her hoof, but nodded nonetheless.
He broke eye contact with the man in the black suit for just a second to see Dash’s response, then immediately turned back to him. Passed the emotionless gaze hidden in the silver eyes and black face, the Captain could see droves of police vehicles surrounding them, blocking their escape. He turned back, noticing the same fate befalling them.
The same military chopper flew above, this time joined with a new helicopter filming the entire scene below. German Special Forces exited their vehicles, swarming the area with assault rifles and SMGs at the ready, all of them aimed clearly for the Winter Soldier. Instinctively, Steve raised his arm to his old friend, Bucky casting him one, wavering glance.
Then he, as well as everyone else, brought their attention on the Iron Man suit falling from the sky and crashing in the middle of the road. Steve noticed the armor immediately, the War Machine armor.
Rhodes stood fully, arms outstretched, palms glowing a blinding white, and a sentry turret on his shoulder at the ready for good measure. His right palm was aimed for the adversary in black, and his left was aimed right for them, both Bucky and Steve. It was unnerving, but understandable considering Rhodes’ stance.
With a voice loud and commanding, Rhodes said, “Stand down now.”
He stared into the glowing, red eyes of the War Machine armor for a moment longer before breaking away. He noticed all of the German Forces with their rifles aimed for them, ready at any second to unload their magazines into them. So many men. With nothing else left, Steve reached back and placed his shield on his backside, hands slowly rising into the air.
“Congratulations, Cap,” Rhodes said, the Captain’s eyes turning to him. “You’re a criminal.”
The sirens wailed even louder, the German Special Forces moving in and subduing the Winter Soldier. They knocked him to his knees, pushed him down to his stomach, and held weapons of every kind in close proximity to him, just in case of any resistance. Steve could see several others beginning to swarm both the adversary in black and himself. He could see Sam being forced near one of the police vehicles, a rifle to his back. He could see Rainbow Dash being raised to her hooves by a pair of officers and forced to the same vehicle Sam was pushed to.
He never did see the figure appear on the overpass to his left.
No one saw Frank Castle.
Breath heavy, chest heaving, Castle once more pulled out his sniper rifle. There was his target. There was the Winter Soldier. Finally subdued, in the company of the German Special Forces and a multitude of Avengers. It was his last clear shot before they would take him away, and then things would really get hairy. Castle didn’t need that right now. He needed to finish the mission.
Pressing the rifle’s butt to his shoulder, the barrel hanging over the overpass, he centered the crosshairs right for the Winter Soldier’s head. He was still with the men keeping him down, but he wouldn’t be for long. Now or never.
Unfortunately, the Devil thought otherwise. Frank had to break away once again to block Daredevil’s forward strikes. He nearly dropped his sniper catching Daredevil’s forearm, but he replied with a strong kick into the Devil’s abdomen, sending him flat on his ass and back. No more time. Castle aimed quickly, centered the crosshairs, and pulled the trigger.
The son of a bitch didn’t quit.
He actually grabbed Castle’s rifle and yanked it back. He didn’t stop the bullet, though. They watched, both of them in shocked silence to see the bullet impact the back of the man in the black suit’s head. His entire head fell forward from the force of the shot, his body crashing into the road.
Instantaneously, the two of them were the center of attention. Captain America, the Falcon, the Winter Soldier, and War Machine all turned their heads to the overpass. The German Special Forces flinched back from the man’s body, twisting their rifles to the source of the shot. They screamed something in German, pointing to the man holding the rifle. Pointing to Castle.
Then they fired.
Both Castle and Murdock ran back from the oncoming fire. Frank wasn’t keen on holding onto his rifle much longer after that, choosing instead to make a run for it down the street, straight into traffic. Murdock, on the other hand, went in the opposite direction, straight across the road and leaping over the overpass’ concrete wall, disappearing straight into the next tunnel over.
As for Frank, he dodged and weaved through traffic, eyes looking desperately for a car to jack. In the midst of his search, he spotted the news and military chopper hovering directly over him. He raised a forearm to shield his face, stopping by the nearest vehicle he could. He pulled out his Glock 17, aimed it right at the driver, and ordered him to get out.
The driver, petrified by the confrontation, raised his hands, then instantly lowered them, his attention brought forward. Castle turned that way, cursed under his breath, then swung.
War Machine caught Castle by the wrist, looking from the pistol in his hand and back to its owner. Rhodes then proceeded to pry the pistol from Castle’s hand, break the firearm, and deliver a punch right into the man’s forehead. Frank dropped flat on his ass and back, knocked out quick and clean. Several police vehicles arrived on the scene, a few Special Forces arriving to pick up the limp body of the shooter.
Rhodes just stared as they took him away, his eyes shifting to the overpass, and where the second figure had escaped.
With the Captain, the Falcon, the Pegasus, and the Winter Soldier subdued and placed under arrest, the remainder of the German Special Forces swarmed what remained of the last adversary, the man in black. A squad of five surrounded the motionless body, rifles and pistols pointed just in case.
Before Steve was forced to his knees, before he was taken away, he watched as one of the Germans felt for a pulse near the man’s neck. He was shocked—just as well as everyone present—to see the man in black press his hands into the street and push himself up. Backing away like they just witnessed the living dead, the German Forces kept their weapons centered on the rising figure, uncertain of what exactly was happening.
But Steve knew. He made the assumption back on the rooftops. His suit, the armor the man was wearing was something he had become accustom to over the years. He, as well as everyone else, watched as the man sheathed his silver claws, cracked his neck, and pulled off his mask.
Steve took the moment to catch his breath, his mouth closing. “Your Highness,” he said, the police forcing him to his knees.
And King T’Challa only stared at the Captain, gripping the mask of the Black Panther between his palms.