"Syria," he answers, happily defying expectations. He'd picked the two countries because they're some of the statistically most likely, with Kuwait bringing up the Trinity. Each of them had about ten thousand men at any given time, give or take, so Syria's probably an unusual answer at about seven hundred troops. Five hundred were special forces, though, and therein lies Barnes. Or lied, rather, before an honorable discharge ended his military career. Not that he's complaining, he'd been well and truly done killing people years before he actually stopped.
Maybe the career he went into after his discharge might be ironic, then, but nobody actually died learning krav maga.
The subject on their shared personal history (in a way) does wonders for breaking the ice, he guesses. They've got a foundation there, and in prison, that's sort of a necessity. People divide themselves up by certain traits - tweakers and junkies, religious nuts, gangs, skinheads, whatever. If that's the thing Steve chooses to define himself by, well, he'll fit in with the handful of guys Barnes surrounds himself with.
It makes for good protection too, not a lot of people are keen to trifle with veterans. Either because they love their country and have a misguided sense of patriotism, or because they're afraid of the thousand yard stare and the fact that they'd be challenging someone who actually killed a man - not just somebody who held up a liquor store or didn't pay the IRS the right amount for a few decades.
They're off to a decent start, so Bucky feels comfortable coming out of the gate bluntly honest, "You don't mess with my shit, I won't mess with yours. Don't start anything with anyone that you can't finish, because I'm not backing you up if you do something stupid. Don't have sex while I'm in here, and for the love of god, don't snore."
no subject
Maybe the career he went into after his discharge might be ironic, then, but nobody actually died learning krav maga.
The subject on their shared personal history (in a way) does wonders for breaking the ice, he guesses. They've got a foundation there, and in prison, that's sort of a necessity. People divide themselves up by certain traits - tweakers and junkies, religious nuts, gangs, skinheads, whatever. If that's the thing Steve chooses to define himself by, well, he'll fit in with the handful of guys Barnes surrounds himself with.
It makes for good protection too, not a lot of people are keen to trifle with veterans. Either because they love their country and have a misguided sense of patriotism, or because they're afraid of the thousand yard stare and the fact that they'd be challenging someone who actually killed a man - not just somebody who held up a liquor store or didn't pay the IRS the right amount for a few decades.
They're off to a decent start, so Bucky feels comfortable coming out of the gate bluntly honest, "You don't mess with my shit, I won't mess with yours. Don't start anything with anyone that you can't finish, because I'm not backing you up if you do something stupid. Don't have sex while I'm in here, and for the love of god, don't snore."
Deal?