A/N: okay so before I start this, I want you to know that Natasha is getting replaced with brooklyn. Sorry. I needed this. Don't worry though, you will get Romanogers later! Also I have translated french in here. It might not be 100 % correct so feel free to correct me if I messed something up!
1381 words
Me and Dad were flying over the Indian Ocean with a man named Brock Rumlow. I had previously changed my clothes to my suit. I obviously kept my hair the same cause why not?
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" The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star. They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, 93 minutes ago" Brock said.
" Any demands?"
" A billion and a half."
"Why so steep?" Dad asked.
"Because it SHIELD's." Brock answered.
'So it's not off-course, it's trespassing." Dad said, trying to understand. "That doesn't sound like a good reason." I said, trying to give my advice.
"You know, I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor." dad said angrily.
"Chill , it's not that complicated." I said trying to calm him down. " How many pirates?" dad asked, completely ignoring me.
"Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc." He showed us a picture of the man. " Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He's at the top of Interpol's Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy's got a rep for maximum casualties." The man continued to explain.
" Hostages?" I asked. I didn't know there were hostages. That wasn't what my mission was. MY mission was to save SHIELD's intel.
"Uh...mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell." he said. He then showed us Sitwell's photo on the monitor. " They're in the galley."
" What's Sitwell doing on a launch ship? Alright, I'm gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Brooke, you'll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get 'em out. Let's move." I think dad likes it when he's in control.
"STRIKE, you heard the Cap. Gear up."
"Secure channel seven." Dad said talking into his wrist communicator.
"Seven secure. Are you going to anything fun this Saturday night?" I asked him. "Well, all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, so... No, not really. Unless you want to watch a movie with me." I made a disgusted face.
Every time dad picks a movie, its something dumb like Wizard of Oz or Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. But when I pick, he complains its too violent. This is why I watch horror movies on my own.
