James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes

He'd wondered what was up when Steve had asked him to join the strategy meeting with him and Colonel Phillips that morning, just after breakfast. His best friend had tried to keep it casual, given that the guys were around, but Bucky can still read him as easy as any book.

It had taken less than three minutes for him to realize, and a solid five hours for them to plan the details of the mission. They'd worked through lunch, and by the time he leaves officers' country, Bucky's nearly vibrating with excitement.

Zola. After all this time, they've finally got a lead on the son-of-a-bitch. And it's a good one. First Zola, then Schmidt, and then--

He doesn't let himself think about that yet. He can't. Bucky reminds himself to stay focused as he moves quickly along the hallways, heading for the weapons room.

They'll all be getting the official orders at the afternoon's training session, but he can't sit still. Not now. Might as well check over his gear and make sure everything's as tuned up as it can possibly be.

[PLACEHOLDER:

* Return to the London SSR base
* Surprise, there's actual space! And rooms with doors that close! And lock!
* Stark's lab is bigger and better furnished; generally true of lots of base things
* Pub above - better than a tent, but still familiar in style (we know that because it gets hit in the Blitz later)
* Once everyone gets settled in, routines resume, including the usual lab readings ... and then after that, mail call]

Bucky wakes in the predawn darkness, long before reveille would normally be called. He spends a few minutes reviewing the mission in his head before he rolls from his cot; there's no room to think about anything else. He meets Steve and the rest of the Howling Commandos at five-fifteen. As planned, they're on the move before the hour has passed.

It's a long day, a hard day, but in the end a successful day, for the most part. The hidden facility carved into the hillside is no more when they leave, HYDRA's agents defeated, their stockpiles destroyed. But there's still no sign of Schmidt, nor of Zola, and that remains incredibly frustrating.

Still, there's reason to celebrate today's win, and the squad's more or less exuberant on their return, some fourteen or so hours later. Steve disappears into the command tent to debrief with Colonel Phillips; Bucky'll catch up with him afterward, as usual. He spends a few minutes trading quips with the others before disappearing to weapons storage to see to his own rifle - also as usual. Something about taking care of it helps him feel like he's cleaning the blood off his own hands.

After that, he finds he's too restless to settle yet, and figures it's not the best idea for him to be around others until he sorts himself out. Bucky wanders along the edge of camp in the dark, then veers from the path and off into the field where he'd spent some time watching the stars only a couple of days ago.

It should be peaceful there, more or less.