Chapter FourBucky

Sam pulled up next to the small plane, the engine humming quietly as it idled. I stepped out of the car, scanning the area for Fiona. It didn't take long—her sleek, black form emerged from the trees, moving with an effortless grace, like something wild and untamed. Her head was held low, the pupils in her eyes slitted as she focused on us, and her tail swayed gently behind her, a soft rhythm that spoke volumes.

I made my way over to her cautiously, every step measured. I knew better than to rush toward her like a regular person would approach a dog. She wasn't a dog. Not anymore.

"Hey, hey," I said softly, lifting my hand slightly as if to calm her, but she froze, her head snapping up to meet my gaze. Her eyes—those red eyes—locked onto mine, and she bared her teeth, a low snarl rising from her chest.

I stopped in my tracks, holding my ground but keeping my voice calm. "Take it easy, Fiona," I said, stepping back slightly, trying to show her I wasn't a threat.

She growled again, a low, vibrating sound that sent a ripple of tension through the air. But I stayed patient, watching her carefully, knowing she had no reason to trust me fully just yet. I wouldn't rush her. Not with what she'd been through.

I could almost feel Sam's gaze on us, waiting for the moment when Fiona would decide whether or not she'd let us in—let us truly help her.

Sam stepped out of the car, his eyes flicking to the new guy who had just appeared—short brown hair, a rugged look about him. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Fiona, who was circling us, her hackles raised, her snarls sharp in the air.

"Oh shit," he muttered, eyes wide as he took in the sight of her, her predatory stance unmistakable.

Fiona's movements were tense, her body low to the ground as she kept her gaze locked on him, her tail flicking in agitation. She growled again, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed between us.

"Hey, easy," I barked at her, my voice stern, but trying to calm the situation before it got out of hand. She stopped mid-step, her head snapping toward me, the growl still vibrating in her throat. Her pupils dilated, but she lowered her head a bit, tail flicking uncertainly.

I took a slow step forward, speaking in that calm, steady tone I knew she needed to hear. "It's a friend, Fiona. It's fine. Trust me."

The tension lingered for a moment, but Fiona seemed to sense something in my voice, and she reluctantly lowered her stance, though she kept her tail stiff. She was still wary, but the snarl faded. Her eyes darted between the new guy and me, still sizing him up.

Sam smiled, watching the interaction with a knowing look in his eyes. "His name's Joaquin Torres," he said, nodding toward the man. "American Forces, Special Ops. A kind man. Don't worry."

Joaquin gave a slight, cautious smile, though his gaze never left Fiona, clearly trying to assess the situation without making any sudden moves. "I'm not exactly used to... this," he said, voice a mix of caution and curiosity, his eyes scanning Fiona, but his tone respectful. "But I'll take Sam's word for it."

Fiona gave a low, almost questioning flick of her tail before turning her head slightly to the side, as if deciding whether or not this "strange human" was worth her trust. It was a slow process, but I could see she was starting to settle.

Fiona turned, standing up on her hind legs, her silhouette now towering over me. She looked down at me with a mix of annoyance and reluctant acceptance, her eyes narrowing before she blinked slowly.

"Fine," she said at length, her voice still a bit growly but with an unmistakable edge of agreement.

She flicked her tail with a sharp, decisive motion, and then padded toward the open door of the plane, her movements fluid, almost graceful despite the tension that still lingered around her.

I watched her for a moment, making sure she was comfortable enough with the plane. Her form was still so wild, so untamed, yet there was something about her that made me believe she was starting to trust us—even if just a little.

"We're flying," Sam said, giving me a quick, reassuring smile as he gestured toward the plane. "Yeah, we're going to Munich."

Munich. The word hung in the air for a moment, and I felt a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. I hadn't been anywhere outside this place for a long time—certainly never on a plane. But I was starting to see that maybe, just maybe, there was something more waiting for me out there.

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We arrived in Munich sooner than I expected, the plane touching down with a smooth thud that made the tension in my shoulders relax just a little. As we taxied to the hangar, I glanced down at Fiona, who had settled near me, her spine resting against my leg. She was calm now, her wildness dulled by the steady hum of the plane's engines coming to a stop.

Her presence was comforting—warm and solid, like a big cat who had claimed her space. She was a strange mix of kindness, protectiveness, and grumpiness. Every now and then, I could feel her stiffen, as if she were ready to defend against an invisible threat, but she never strayed far. Her tail flicked lazily behind her, the tension melting as we prepared to leave the plane.

I shifted my weight slightly, letting her lean into me without a word. Fiona had changed in the time I'd known her—she wasn't the fierce raptor I'd first encountered. Now, she was something different. Protective, but in her own way. Grumpy, but loyal. And as strange as it was, I couldn't help but appreciate that about her.

The door of the plane opened with a soft hiss, and I could hear the bustle of the hangar outside. Sam was already ahead, ready to get us on the move. I stood, brushing my hand over Fiona's back gently.

"Ready?" I asked, my voice quiet as I gazed down at her. She just snorted softly, the air puffing from her nose as if to say, I guess so, but I knew better than to push her too hard.

With a final flick of her tail, Fiona stood up, stretching with a slow, deliberate motion before following me out. Whatever came next in Munich, I knew we'd face it together—grumpy, protective, and maybe even a little strange, but that was just the way it was.

Sam grinned at me, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Let's go," he said, and before I could respond, he activated his Falcon suit, the mechanical wings snapping open with a sharp hiss. In a flash, he was airborne, soaring out of the plane with a grace that never failed to impress.

Fiona, her eyes trained on him as he flew, let out a low growl, her muscles coiled and ready. She wasn't exactly thrilled by Sam's sudden takeoff, her stance tense as she watched the wings flare.

Joaquin turned to me, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You coming, man?" he asked, the edge of amusement clear in his voice.

I nodded, though the doubt gnawed at me. What the hell am I doing? But I couldn't back down now. "Yeah, don't worry," I muttered, trying to shake off the unease.

Fiona snorted beside me. "Me too," she grumbled, clearly feeling the same way. But she didn't hesitate long. With a sudden, fluid motion, she bounded into the air, leaping like a squirrel in pursuit of Sam. Her powerful form sliced through the air, and Sam's Falcon suit swooped down to catch her mid-flight. Fiona let out a surprised screech as he snagged her, but she didn't fight it.

"Hey!" she growled, but there was an undertone of amusement in her voice.

I couldn't help but laugh, watching the chaos unfold. Then, without thinking, I leapt after them, my body following the same instinctive arc as I flung myself into the air. But instead of gliding or soaring, I found myself tumbling awkwardly through the trees, my legs flailing as branches scratched and scraped at me.

Well, that wasn't smart, I thought to myself as I crashed into the ground with a heavy thud, winded and sprawled on my back.

Above me, I heard the familiar hum of Sam's drone, Redwing, hovering over me. "Just got that on video, you know," Sam's voice piped up, a laugh barely hidden in his tone as the drone zoomed around my head.

I groaned, trying to sit up. Then, out of nowhere, Fiona landed with a soft thud right at my feet, like a cat jumping down from a ledge. She stretched out, a slight purr in her throat before turning her attention to me.

"You alright, Buck?" she asked, her voice almost tender as she sniffed at my face, checking for injuries.

I swatted at her with an exaggerated grunt. "Just fine... just... winded," I muttered, the wind knocked out of me but my pride taking the harder hit.

She laughed, a sweet, almost melodic sound that contrasted with her usual gruff demeanor. "Get up," she nudged me, her paw prodding my side, forcing me to move.

I groaned, pushing myself up. "Yeah, yeah..." I muttered, dusting myself off. She wasn't going to let me stay down for long.

"Sam says he knows where the Flag Smashers are," she added, her voice serious now, the change in tone drawing my attention.

I took a deep breath, the thrill of the moment wearing off, replaced by the weight of what came next. "Alright, then," I said, pulling myself to my feet. "Let's find them."

Fiona gave me a single, sharp nod, her gaze fierce. We were all in this together, and whatever came next, I knew we'd face it head-on.