Her Hidden Past

- Chapter Thirty One -

"Orlova," Simmons warily greeted her as she slipped back into the storage room.

"I got some supplies," She held out the first aid kit as a sort of peace offering. "If you would?"

"I'll see what I can do," Simmons agreed.

"Any luck, Fitz?"

"Not on the safe route out," Fitz shook his head. "This guy has men on every exit. I did find this though." He showed her Clint leading Fury, Coulson and the others through the halls.

"Any luck with the comms?" Natasha asked.

"I've almost finished hacking their hack," Fitz smirked softly. "They didn't do a great job. We should have comms in about two minutes and they won't even know it."

"Good job," Natasha nodded, impressed. "Take this and get ready to move." She handed over one of the three handguns and some spare ammo. Out of the two science agents, he'd had much more training for the field than Simmons, according to their files. Moving out the door, she joined Skye at her lookout position.

"All quiet," Skye acknowledged her presence.

"Swap you," Natasha offered her one of the other handguns.

"Thanks," Skye nodded, accepting the gun she was more familiar with.

"We need to move as soon as May is ready," Natasha slipped her Glock back into its holster.

"Do you think she's going to be ok?"

"She'll be fine, May is a fighter, this is for her," Natasha held up the last of the three she'd collected.

"Orlova," Simmons called softly. Natasha moved back to the doorway without a sound.

"How are you feeling, May?" She asked softly, kneeling next to where she was now leaning on the wall.

"I'm better, Orlova," She gestured to her bound wrist.

"Can you walk?"

"Walking's easy, give me a gun. Let's go get these bastards."

"As much as I admire your will to fight, I'm going to have to stop you right there," Natasha shook her head. "Coulson would have my head, and you are still very concussed right now."

"Coulson wouldn't have your head," May slurred. "He seems to like you, though Barton will always be his favourite. Romanoff too, though he never admitted that for fear of her killing him."

"Let's get you up and moving," Natasha hushed her. "I'm giving you this, for emergencies only." She handed over the last gun. "Fitz, where are we?"

"Almost ready," Fitz nodded. "Medvedev and most of his men are still in the hangar, the blonde and a few of the men are stalking the corridors."

"Where is the blonde?"

"She's several corridors behind Coulson and the others," Fitz frowned. "She might be headed for the armoury. And comms are up." He offered her the tablet back.

"Thanks Fitz," Natasha nodded. "Ястреб (Hawk) do you copy?"

"Orlova?" Clint sounded relieved.

"Fitz got us online," Natasha hid an equally relieved smile. "Barton, Belova isn't far behind you."

"Where's she headed?"

"Looks like the armoury, but we can't be sure."

"We locked it down," Clint smirked. "And we've raided a few of Fury's staches too."

"How's May?"

"She's on her feet," Natasha answered. "Concussion, broken wrist, bruised ribs and dislocated shoulder. Get Coulson to wait at the vent for us, We'll have to take the halls too and May's going to need a hand through the vents."