Vengeance [Avengers Fanfiction]

[Chapter 7]

    I put my Phantom clothes on, not including my fingerless gloves. I put those in a pocket inside of my jacket because I would wear those for training. Scowling, I ran a hairbrush through my hair, detangling it. Why do they even bother calling it training when it's actually a test to see how good I am at fighting so they can classify if I'm a threat?

    Smirking, I walked to the door and then pulled my hood up. If I'm a threat to them, so be it. I'm not going to give it my all, but I'm certainly not going to hold back. Well, except for my energy, because I don't want to turn into another human experiment.

    I stepped into the cool metal hallway. The lighting was a bit dim since the only things that illuminated the hallway were tiny circular bulbs in the ceiling and above each door. I glanced at the bedroom door beside mine that Captain America stayed in. After a few seconds of pausing, I assumed that either he was asleep or out of his room.

    I turned and made my way down the hallway. My feet, even though I was wearing combat boots, made no noise as I walked. It's become a habit of mine to always walk with an extremely light tread, it helps when sneaking up on people or going unnoticed.

    Since I didn't want to take the elevator, I decided I would try a door beside the elevator that I hoped was a staircase. Twisting the doorknob, I discovered that it indeed led to a set of stairs. I was about to climb up them when I saw shadows creeping around the corner of the stairs, accompanied by the dull, echoing thuds of footsteps.

    "Are you sure there is enough security on this level? We still don't know what she could do."

    "Yes, sir. We installed another set of cameras further down the hallway so we can see if anyone is snooping around."

    The first voice belonged to none other than Vincent Crowe, and it sounded like he was talking to an agent. I didn't know what they were conversing about, but I had a feeling their topic of interest was me.

    The footfalls grew louder and the shadows grew as the men approached closer to where I was. Seeing as I had no where to hide, the smart thing to do would be to slip out the way I came. If they saw me, it would raise suspicions. I didn't need a whole team of agents on my tail, watching my every move.

    Soundlessly, I crept out the door and shut it as softly as I could, then made my way to the elevator and pressed the up button. The shiny, chrome doors slid open and I stepped on, then they closed just as the two men made their way out of the stairwell, not noticing me.

    Not knowing where the mess hall was (because surely they had one- how would they explain to a Chinese food takeout guy why there was a top-secret military compound outside of New York City?) I pushed the button for the main floor and watched as it lit up. A floor or two before I reached my level the elevator stopped. I scowled. Great, I'm going to have company.

    Tony Stark, wearing a casual outfit of dark jeans, a light gray-blue T-shirt, and an unbuttoned charcoal blazer, that in all probably cost more than a small car, strolled in.

    "Well, looky what we have here! It's Little Miss Dark-and-Depressing! How are you on this wonderful, sparkly morning?"

    If looks could kill, this man would've been stabbed, beaten, and hit by a bus multiple times already. Too bad he can't see my expression from under my hood.

    "I'm guessing you're going to the mess hall, correct? Floor 1, I'll accompany you."

    Since I had already chosen floor 1, the elevator continued to rise. It came to a stop, and I was the first one off, wanting to get out of the small metal deathtrap that always seemed too crowded. Stark showed me to the mess hall, which was a normal cafeteria if you excluded the fact that all of the workers who were eating and chatting wore an earpiece and a gun holster. I walked to the breakfast line and grabbed a random muffin out of the pastries and a water bottle in a station a few feet away, then made my way to an empty table in the back. To my dismay, after gathering his food, Stark smoothly slid into the chair across from me at the table, then propped his legs up.