The Ghost [Marvel | Steve Rogers]

Chapter 52

And step by quick, measured step, she approached the silo.

A few minutes more and she was huffing in frustration. Sure enough, as Barnes had been fairly sure was the case, the manhole built into the edge of the silo's launch hatch was fused shut. The only way anyone was getting out that way was if they were to open the massive iron hatch itself.

It was mixed news. Reassuring in that it did as they hoped and limited potential escape routes available to the Five, but disappointing in that it also limited any potential advantage Nadine might have been able to glean from slipping in to flank them using it.

But it was what it was, and Nadine shunted her disappointment aside as she leapt lightly down from the exposed ledge of the submerged concrete structure.

She was halfway back to the base's main entrance when a prickling sensation on the back of her neck warned her she wasn't alone.

And she was already spinning, her M4 snapping up even as a familiar metallic clunk sounded behind her.

For a long, tense moment, neither she nor Tony Stark moved a muscle, her sight fixed on his faceplate and his palm repulsors aimed right back at her.

"You've got some nerve," she finally remarked coolly to break the impasse. Stark's frame eased as he straightened slightly. Wary, Nadine's eyes narrowed as his hands dropped. It was only fractionally, possibly even unconsciously, but it was enough to give her pause even as it had her focus sharpening further still.

"There I was expecting you to shoot first and scold me later," he quipped back. She fought back a huff of irritation. Oh, how part of her was tempted... But she kept the thought to herself, not even allowing a twitch to betray it. The fact that his stance had been in response to her own reaction to his appearance wasn't lost on her; he hadn't attacked, which they both knew he would've had to if he'd had any hope of taking her out quickly. In fact, he'd blatantly surrendered his advantage. It spoke volumes.

As did the way the glow of his palm repulsors dimmed. She was hard-pressed to keep her features impassive as he straightened further, his hands dropping to his side. Her eyes narrowed further and, after a moment, she let her own defensive stance relax, her aim dropping from its lock on Stark's helmet.

Though she didn't lower her gun from her shoulder completely.

Given everything that had happened in Leipzig? She was still far too mad and irritated with the man to do otherwise.

Not to mention suspicious of his motives.

"Why are you here?" She asked instead of responding to his half-hearted attempt at diffusing the tension between them. With a muffled series of clunks, his helmet retracted, revealing Tony's grim features. The already painful looking bruise on his right eye from Berlin was worse, having grown and darkened to spill over onto his cheekbone, and had been joined by a rather nasty looking contusion on his right temple. But neither of those injuries detracted from the serious light in his eyes even as his lips twitched in the semblance of his characteristic irreverent grin. With an affected nonchalance, his head tilted, his eyes narrowing slightly in deliberation.

"Would you believe it's to help?" She didn't bother answering, merely raising a skeptical, questioning brow at him. He let out a theatrical sigh.

"I get it, I screwed up," he bit out, his frustration and impatience clear.

And masking the guilt and remorse she could see shadowing his drawn features.

This time, Nadine couldn't help her wry huff, interrupting with a dry, "you think?" His nose wrinkled in indignation, but, with visible effort, he ignored the dig.