Code Name: Untraceable

Chapter Sixty: Thunder Reborn

The jet hummed low as it lifted off the ground, pulling away from HQ-pulling away from Val.

Inside, it was quiet.

Tension uncoiled from their shoulders like old rope being cut.

Frankie stood near the rear ramp, arms crossed, wind still pulling at the hem of her jacket before the hatch sealed shut. Her jaw was tight, her eyes unreadable. But she didn't move.

She didn't have to.

Because this time, they followed her without hesitation.

Yelena dropped into a seat, arms wide. "So... now that we've committed a very polite rebellion, what's next? Uniforms? Matching jackets?"

Alexei grinned from across the aisle. "Maybe a logo. Ooh! Thunder-themed. Boom! Dramatic."

Ava rolled her eyes, but she didn't argue. "We'll need gear. Actual gear, not Val's leftovers."

John leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Are we vigilantes now? Rogues? Rebels? Or like... emotionally damaged freelancers?"

Yelena pointed at him. "Yes."

Bob hadn't sat down yet. He was still standing near the middle of the cabin, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets, eyes flicking between them-then finally, to Frankie.

She hadn't said a word since they walked out of HQ.

Bucky noticed too. "You good?"

Frankie didn't answer at first.

She stared at the steel floor beneath her boots like it might crack open and show her what came next.

Then Bob quietly walked over. Said nothing.

Just held something out to her.

A single sour candy stick.

Frankie stared at it for a second.

Took it.

Unwrapped it.

Bit off the end.

The tiniest smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"We're not heroes," she said finally, voice low but certain.

Everyone went quiet.

"We're not soldiers. Or saviors. Or whatever fantasy Val built for public approval."

She looked at each of them, one by one. Calm. Dead serious.

"But we're not her weapons either."

"We decide what we do now."

"Where we go. Who we protect. Who we destroy."

John raised a hand. "Can I vote for a tropical mission next? I look great in swim shorts."

Yelena: "You look like a pasty corpse."

Alexei: "I also look like a corpse, and I own it."

Ava: "Can we just find a warehouse to train in first?"

Laughter broke out. Soft. Real.

And when it faded, Frankie just nodded once.

"Let's go find something that needs breaking."

Bob stood beside her, quiet but steady.

The others fell into their places-arguing, teasing, planning in low tones.

And for the first time in a long time...

Frankie wasn't leading alone.

She had a team.

Not perfect.

Not clean.

But hers.

Thunderbolts. Unleashed.

And the world had no idea what was coming next.

-

AHHH I NEED TO STOP WRITING!!!
i love this story so much
and it has so much potential for a part 2
Frankie coming out of her shell
they go on missions they never thought they could be going on
AHHHHHHHH
god i need some serious help
but thank you so much for reading! I may actually make a 2nd part
sometimes i actually write just for me (selfish i know) and then sometimes im like "are people actually gonna read it" "are they gonna think 'bloody hell shes posted another one'" but sometimes i just do it because i like something so much i need to get it out
so you may see a part 2 of this story you may not (you probably will)
oh wellll!
Thank you again!!!!