Bucky Barnes Soldier Novels & Stories

“I like hearing that. Just make sure you’re honest with me - and yourself - about your limits. We won’t get there overnight, Tim.” “I know that. But I’ll put in as many hours as it takes.” “I figured as much. Just, no more today, all right? Back on your crutches until morning.” “You’re the boss.” Eighty-two days later, just before he completed his physical therapy regimen, Tim Fresco received official word that he was being medically discharged from the U.S. Army. For the second time, the future he’d envisioned for himself had taken an unexpected turn.

The soldier brought his knees up and kicked Nash in the injured shoulder. Nash howled, a sound of heart-stopping pain, but he didn't let go. He slammed the soldier’s head against the floor, over and over. "Kill... you..." Nash hissed, foam gathering at the corners of his mouth. "Kill... you... for... him..." Suddenly, the wall behind us—the back wall of the bunker—exploded inward. Debris rained down on us. I threw myself over Sayler, shielding him with my body. Through the dust, more soldiers poured in. Five. Six. Too many.

“What did you think was going to happen?” Mello shook his head, abandoning his bazooka sketch to start drawing what looked like a medical kit. “How dumb could you possibly be? You punched a titanium-armored robot and expected everything to go well?” From his couch, Northstar took another bite of his burger. Then, with a sigh so deep it seemed to carry the weight of centuries, he stood up. He brushed non-existent crumbs from his shirt.

, Buck said timidly, "I know you're hurt. Take one." Bill smiled and ruffled his brother's hair. "Always taking care of me little brother", the pill sent a cool wave of energy coursing through his veins and slowly healing his wounds, "good thing you're an alchemist." Buck rises to his feet and says. "How are the others?" Bill smiles and replies. "Alive!" And with that Bucky Drakens (fifty thousand perus) defeated Commander Officer Crysanta Gore (fifty thousand perus).

"Are you really soldiers? You all appear to have abruptly quit drinking your mother's breast milk and decided to fight werewolves." The soldier lost his temper at last and fired a shot at him. The bullet went right into the side of his stomach. Marcus kept his face straight despite the pain spiraling in him. "Is that all you got?" The soldier aimed at him again but the other one stopped him and began to drag him away. "I like my tea with honey," Marcus named after them.

The heavy canvas flaps of the medical tent rustled as Lieutenant Bassy strode inside, a grim expression etched onto his face. Two soldiers followed closely, half-carrying, half-dragging Luke into the space. The young man was pale, his face glistening with sweat, and his body hung limply between them, as though the mere act of standing required a strength he no longer possessed. His shallow, labored breathing filled the silence, and his eyes fluttered open and shut, his consciousness slipping in and out like the tide.

With that, Benson cackled, trying his absolute best to smile through the agonizing pain of his shattered bones. The thought of seeing Liam's limp, lifeless body sprawled before him was the only thing keeping him going at this point. "You see this, Liam? This is the difference between a soldier and an ordinary civilian; we have guns, but you don't! You're no match for us! Admit your defeat right now!" Benson declared, wagging his pistol threateningly in Liam's face.

a class one soldier who was confused by the ground war commander's sudden order, asked. Ben looked forward to where Evan De Kruk was crouching while hugging someone in soldier's clothing. "Didn't you see that? If the soldier I shot earlier wasn't King De Kruk, then why would Evan De Kruk be there and hugging that person?" Ben asked with a blank stare.

Everyone got silent as a man she saw that Matt followed behind, he climbed up on the makeshift stage and gave a speech. “Thank you, everyone for coming tonight for this occasion. As all know the evening will start with promoting ranks of soldiers who earned and were selfless and courageous in the battlefield. Soldiers who worked long and hard to earn the positions that are now to be given to them as in acknowledge and approval for all their hard work and actions they have done to protect us and our country and their brothers on the field.

It fell forward, shaking the ground beneath. Ahead was 1st Lieutenant Francis Borja with a smoking shotgun, beside was Sergeant Alice Abantay and three other 666IB soldiers. He recognized PFC Nagar among the mix. "Just in time," Lukas said thankfully. "Just in fucking time." "Get up, buddy." He offered him a hand, which he took and stood on his feet. Nurse Sala handed him her pistol and carried the man beside her. "You gave the nurse a gun? She can't even hurt a fly."