BERLIN 2024. 9 {NEAR PRESENT}

                                    

                                          
BERLIN, GERMANY, 2024 - NINE HOURS LATER.
"Where the hell are we?" Avery whispers, her voice barely audible, as she attempts to pierce the darkness with the beam of her torchlight. This meeting point, chosen by Bucky, exudes an unsettling aura, and she scans the surroundings for any sign of him. Bucky had instructed both her and Sam to rendezvous here after he finished questioning Zemo, hoping to extract information that might prove valuable for their ongoing mission.
"I don't know, Avery... Bucky told us to meet him here," Sam responds from another corner of the dimly lit room. She pivots, guiding her torchlight in his direction, their beams intersecting in the murky air. 
"Well, how long does it take to ask an ex-scorpion a couple of questions?" she continues, her steps echoing softly as she moves toward Sam's voice. 
"Wait, you know that Zemo is ex-military?" he questions, halting his movements, a hint of surprise in his voice. 
"I'm ex-military, Wilson. Of course, I know," Avery sighs, her eyes rolling dramatically, even though she's aware he won't catch the visual cue. 
"Quit pointing that thing towards my face, Avery!" Sam suddenly exclaims, shielding his eyes from the sharpness of the torchlight. 
"Stop walking in front of it!" she hisses back, adjusting the light to a different position. 
The room's lights flicker on, one by one, accompanied by a subtle hum. Sam and Avery squint and then blink to adjust their eyes to the sudden brightness. 
"I hope you're both talking about the flashlights," Bucky calls out from across the room, the one responsible for switching on the lights. He turns off his own flashlight and looks at them unimpressed, wondering why it took them so long to find the light switch. "Couldn't either of you find the light switch?" 
"Kind of hard to find anything when you're getting blinded by Avery," Sam comments, glancing at Avery now at his side, clearly unimpressed. 
Avery switches off her torch and frowns at Sam, "Don't blame me! You walked right into that beam of light, Wilson," she argues. Bucky walks over, exhaling deeply. 
"Will you both focus? We've got things to do here, or have you both forgotten?" Bucky's tone is serious, with a hint of exasperation. 
"Hey, don't start getting all pissy with us, Bucky," Avery directs her argument to him, her frown still apparent. His jaw clenches as their eyes meet. "What the hell took you so long?" she continues, pressing for answers. 
"Yeah, I'm sure you and Zemo weren't busy discussing pleasantries," Sam quips, joining the chorus of criticism aimed squarely at Bucky. "What did you find out?" 
Bucky's eyes roll this time, clearly displeased with the sudden tag teaming. He sighs, "Not much, really." 
Avery notices an old, banged-up vintage car in the room with them, realizing they're now waiting in a garage. She wanders over to the car, slightly distracted. "So, Zemo was a waste of time..." 
"So what now, Bucky? We've wasted time and resources flying back out here to question him, and you're telling us we've got nothing?" Sam persists with the questions, his annoyance evident at the lack of intel they've managed to gather. 
"No, we haven't got nothing!" Bucky snaps, fed up with the third degree. "Look, I have an idea. Can I run you both through a hypothetical here?" He eyes them both, vexed. 
Sam's arms fold, and he tilts his head to the side. "What did you do?" 
"I didn't do anything." 
Sam looks away, exasperated, and turns on his feet, unable to keep still. Avery has lost all interest in their argument, now focused on tinkering around the engine of the car—a skill she acquired during her military service as a mechanic. She leaves the duo to fight it out.