Bring the Winter Soldier back into the fold. Easier said than done. And that was, in itself, not an easy thing to suggest. Robert was a senior graduate of the Red Room, now. With a long and entirely unspoken record. A ghost. Many of the known Widows were presumed dead, but Robert had never been known at all. He was sanitary in his approach. No trace left.
Which is part of why he had been selected for this task. The other, of course, being that he was the Red Room’s favorite type of spy. The psychic kind. He’d been living next door to Bucky for a few weeks now, but had remained out of sight. This man had trained him, once upon a time. He would be instantly recognized, and Robert knew damn well he couldn’t defeat the Soldier. Even this watered down, weak, version of him.
He had been surgical, spending his nights entering Bucky’s thoughts and unravelling threads. He wouldn’t risk changing memories; too risky to do without being discovered. Instead he altered perception of them. Changed ‘this is the man I trained to be a killer’ to ‘this man looks like someone who’s life I ruined’.
Today he would test his success and move on to stage two. Robert was coming back at the time he knew Bucky would also be entering the building. Robert had a rather vicious black eye as he made contact with the subject. They were both at the door, eyes locked. Were he untrained, Robert might have held his breath in anticipation. Instead he just offered a sheepish smile, motioning to let the larger man in ahead of him.