'She wears strength and darkness
equally well,
the girl has always been half goddess,
half hell'
Nikita Gill
~
"Lewis?"
"Yes?"
"Cue the music."
'Bad Reputation' by Joan Jett is blasted out of every speaker in the building, thanks to my little British scientist. He may not be a whiz at computers, but the tablet held in his hand belongs to none other than Nicholas J. Fury himself, bestowing Dr Thompson the ability to lock and open almost any door, override the PA system, give clearance to nearly any computer, and so on and so forth. Every bit (ha, computer puns) of data and information we're supposed to obtain from the labs will be downloaded onto that tablet, likely making it the most knowledgeable tablet of all tablets.
Me, personally? I'm just glad Fury kept my Spotify playlist on it.
HYDRA agents left, right and centre. Lewis is constantly locking and opening doors to trap them in rooms, or dropping elevators forty stories high full of the bastards. We've started heading further and further up the building, hot on Brock's tail. Even if he doesn't have the sceptre now, I will get its whereabouts out of him. HYDRA cannot get their hands on an infinity stone.
"Alpha lock."
Steve announces his success over the first helicarrier, prompting a sigh of relief from me. So far, so good. No screw ups yet, but now that everyone knows how this plays out – Pierce and Rumlow included – there may be a few mishaps along the way.
"Falcon, Swallow, Hemmings, where are you now?" Hill inquires their position, just as I freeze over another agent and watch their body fall and shatter on the floor like a fine porcelain plate.
"I had to take a detour – man, this déjà vu crap is messing with my head." Audible gunshots boom in the background as Wilson responds, and not just normal guns either. Those had to belong to a fighter jet.
"Trying to get these guys off Falcon's back." My baby sister scowls, hissing as more gunshots are also detectable from her end.
"Still on the ground, lot of HYDRA guys down here." Sam Hemmings informs us, the deafening cracks and sizzles of electricity sending static through the earpiece for a few moments, drawing a cringe out of me.
"Do we have eyes on Rumlow?" I ask Lewis, blood bending the gun in another man's hand and watching as he fires it at his tyrannical comrades.
The Brit only smiles apologetically, shoulders rising as he shrinks into himself. "Unfortunately no, I-I seem to have lost sight of him."
"Dammit!"
Growling in outrage, I ignore the piercing pain of my stab wound as well as the bruises all over demanding my attention, viciously stomping my right foot to the ground and raising my corresponding hand up, stalagmites spurting from the floor and impaling the remaining agents once again.
Two more HYDRA are there when we finally arrive at the hall that leads to the labs, and yet, when they turn to face us, guns at the ready, two bullets find their homes expertly in their skulls. Pausing, with my hand out protectively in front of Lewis, my narrowed eyes and tense frame dissipate into alleviation when my new blonde bestie casually waltzes over their corpses, lowering her gun when she recognises us in return.
"Lillian?"
"Sup Sharon, nice shot – you've met Lewis right?" My words are in rapid quick fire mode, or as I like to call it, Tony Stark's word vomit pace. "Sharon, this is Dr Lewis Thompson – Lewis, this is Sharon Carter, Agent 13," I politely introduce, mildly panting from my exertion through the pain. That still doesn't stop me from snapping my fingers and watching the neck of an incoming agent crack at an unnatural angle, however.
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Played by the Enemy || Captain America || Book 2
Fanfiction"My hands are stained with dirt. And they always will be." ~ Lillian Nightshade; assassin, Captain America's girlfriend, and number one magnet for bullsh*t and bad luck. For her entire life, she's been told what to, who to kill, who she is, and what...
