“We’re gonna have a problem,” Steve conceded. “I’m not known for following orders.” It wasn’t just a tease. He was pretty sure that if he hadn’t been helping the troops to win the war, he’d be court marshaled for the amount of times he’d gone against a directive by someone higher up the chain of command than he himself was.

After a moment, the blond did at least follow Bucky, did at least attempt to stay hidden. It would become a lot less easy to do so as the dawn broke, both because of the sunlight and because they had more or less run out of town. Hamlets dotted the Alaska coast, but there were stretches of a hundred or so miles of bleakness in between.

They’d be sitting ducks in the open. No one in Alaska walked. And God knew what the Canadian border looked like these days. Steve shielded his eyes from the sun as they headed towards the sign pointing back towards the town they had just left.

“Where are we going? I don’t think we can just walk to DC and demand a surrender.”