Chapter 10
The final plans for our big break were laid just as night added even more shadows to our cell.
"I still think we need comms." Steve grumbles as he crawls back into his waiting spot.
"You could have had some," I hiss, "if our ever so pleasant captors had given a few wires and some tinfoil!"
"I mean, seriously." My dad agrees from next to Bruce. "I built the first Iron Man-"
"Shhh!" Natasha shushes us from her spot in the front of the cell. "Places, the guard is coming!"
I scurry into position next to her as the cell falls silent enough for me to hear the guard's raspy breaths.
Good. I smile to myself. Easier to take him down, then.
The positions are simple, really. Natasha and I the most unassuming and we're both light on our feet; Natasha will be grabbing the guard, knocking him out, and stealing his keys. The keys are then thrown to me, where I will quickly use my nimble mechanic's fingers to reach and unlock the cell door. Clint is crouched directly behind me in a runner's crouch, ready to both guard me and boost me into the vents, then jump in himself. My dad will come next with a still drugged Bruce thrown over his shoulder, Thor guarding him. Steve will come out last, at his insistence — 'haven't you heard that the captain's always the last one out?'. I told him that was for shipwrecks, not jailbreaks, but team loyalty, I guess.
Anyways, I tensed in my crouch as the guard neared. I fought to even my breathing as Natasha, nothing but a black blur streaked with red, grabbed the guards legs and pulled them towards her and to the side, the surprise and fear just barely registering on the old guard's face before his head hit the ground with a crack that resounded through the hall. The keys barely jingle as I catch them and spring up to reach around the bars to twist the key in the lock. I silently nudge the door open about six inches and freeze, waiting and listening for any approaching footsteps.
I don't hear any yet, so I quickly dart out into the hall, getting into the right position directly below the vent cover, not even flinching as movement explodes behind me as several dark shapes join me in the corridor. One of the dark shapes comes up behind me, reaching up to tug down the vent cover and linking his hands to give me a leg up and into the vents. I crawl on my stomach for a foot or so to give Clint some room, still not making a sound while I focus on the whispers below us.
Footsteps pad to the left, so I wave over my shoulder to Clint and begin shimmying through the vents, the only sound being our breathing echoing against the smooth metal walls.
That is, until the alarms began screeching and shattered our bubble of serenity.
A~A~A
All silence was forgotten as we all ran like our tails were on fire, Clint and I following Steve's orders almost blindly. Screams and shout ring out from below, and I scoot to the nearest vent cover and peek out to see Natasha and Steve battling with a battalion of black clothed soldiers as Thor hustled my dad and Bruce down the hall and away from the commotion. Behind me, I could feel Clint's arm twitching for a weapon — not even his bow, just any weapon — and I knew how much he wanted to jump down and help our teammates. I send a sympathetic glance over my shoulder, letting him know that this pained me just as much, but we both knew nothing could be done to help without causing more harm.
Natasha and Steve struck down the last of their foes and we're off again, running down the hallways and taking corners at breakneck speeds.
After Natasha takes out her thirtieth guard of the night, even the untrained eye can tell she's feeling the strain of fighting without a weapon after so many years of being armed. I frown and consider signaling one of the others to cover her just as she gasps quietly, seeing something ahead that I don't. My boyfriend also sucks in a breath behind me and I mutter curses at my average, non-bird like eyesight.
I crawl in the direction of the room anyways, positioning myself just above the vent entrance. I hold my breath and blood roars in my ears as everything falls silent for a second.
Then half a minute.
Forty five seconds.
And then finally, Steve shouts for us to come down, telling us it's safe.
I release the breath I'd been holding as I quickly unhinge the cover and swing my feet down, landing in complete darkness for a moment, hearing Clint land beside me and a few curses and thumps.
"Jackpot!" Clint sings as the lights above us hum to life, causing us to blink a few times before we look around the room.
And we definitely did not squeal like little girls as we saw all the weapons in the room. Pistols, rifles, staffs, swords, guns, and was that-
"My shield!" Steve cries as he rushes forward to drag his iconic shield from behind a huge rifle. He quickly checks it over for dents and scratches as we all scatter and hunt for our own weapons. I snatch two familiar glowing blue wrist tasers off the wall, handing them to Natasha and then diving back into the pile of stuff I had been elbow deep in. I can hear guns clicking and being loaded as I pull out my holster set Thor gave me for my birthday last year, black with embroidered pearl designs to match my archery set.
I smile as I strap them on over the ratty grey sweats they put us in here, accepting two nine millimeter pistols, a throwing knife, and a serrated hunting knife. I begin to dig around again, actually cheering as I lift a bow from a pile with Hawk engraved on the side. I give it to Clint and take my quiver in return, strapping it securely over my back and checking all the arrows.
"Taylor, catch!"
I look up just in time to reach out and catch a four inch wide circle of metal in my prosthetic hand. I smirk as I press a button on the metal contraption, my smirk transforming into a smile as my bow unfolds. I test the quiver controls, unscrewing and changing arrowheads to make sure the mechanics in my quiver still work.
I'm about to strap on the last of my gear when my dad shouts.
"I can't find any of the suits!" he whines as I jog over to where my dad stands in the corner of the room.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, they must have scrapped them! Or not brought them at all! Or-"
I sigh and reach up to remove my dad's hands from where they are tugging at his hair. "Calm down. We'll think of something, don't worry, we always do."
I turn slowly around, letting my eyes scan the walls of metal and sharp things for anything that can help.
They land on a jet pack in the corner.
I smile slightly evilly.
"Do you think HYDRA will miss that?
A~A~A
About fifteen minutes later, my dad is outfitted in the most makeshift Iron Man suit ever: a modified jet pack attached to two weird ray guns Thor found, a motorcycle helmet, and a pair of steel toed boots. It doesn't have Jarivs, of course, and we still do not have comms, so this is a feeble attempt at best, but I secure my gear and slip on a pair of combat boots anyways.
Clint and I check each other's gear and share one last light kiss before notching our first arrows and awaiting orders.
As it turns out, we're all staring at Steve, waiting for some master plan.
"Oh, um..." he blushes and stutters for an answer. "We don't really have a plan here. Just...fight like your lives depend on it and find a way to get to the Hellicarrier. Oh, and good luck."
I smirk as pistols are clicked and we all tense as Steve prepares to spring the door.
We all rush out as the door swings open, immediately met with a ring of soldiers at least three deep.
I fire my speed arrows into the ring, hearing the thwack! of the first impact and then the two after.
Just regular arrows manage to take out a guy, and I see the guys sneaking up on my just in time to spin and use my momentum to give him a right hook across the nose. With a metal arm that's much harder than bone.
I turn and take off down the hallway as the last soldier is taken out, Clint just on my tail.
"What are we looking for?"
"Signs that say 'deck', 'hangar', 'garage', etcetera."
"What language?"
"Any."
"Oh. So like that?"
I skid to a stop to see Clint pointing up at a sign that looks distinctly German. "It says Runway." He supplies.
I nod and smile at him. "HEY GUYS!" I shout. "WE FOUND IT!"
Silence, and then footsteps. Clint and I both tense and notch arrows, but it turns out to be friend and not foe. Clint shows the sign to Natasha as I quickly check in with my dad and Bruce. Bruce is still a deadweight and my dad is sweating, but he says he's fine so I just shrug as the team takes off down the hallway the sign specified.
Miraculously, we don't meet any guards as we burst through the thick steel doors into another dark room.
Someone finds the light switch, and then we're all staring at row upon shining row of jets. Quinjets, to be precise. Clint immediately starts towards the nearest jet, but we all jump and turn as footsteps and shouts invade the hangar.
So that's where all the guards went.
I fire arrow upon arrow and make a dent in their forces, but just barely.
A yelp catches my attention and I whirl to see Steve fall to one knee, his hands wrapped around his other calf stained red.
"Steve is hurt!" I shout to my team. "We need to leave now!"
Clint glances around at the enemies surrounding us and then sends me a dubious glance.
"We need a distraction!" my dad hollers above the fray.
Clint and I glance at each other mischievously. I notch an explosive arrow as Clint readies a gas arrow. We fire them to just above the door and hover our fingers over the trigger buttons on our bows as we run towards the nearest jet.
"We have devices primed!" I shout to my dad. "Just tell us when!"
Clint and I come closer to the jet.
Closer...
Closer...
"NOW!"
We both hit the triggers, diving towards the jet. The gas fueled explosion shoves us forwards so that we're just under the belly of the jet.
Clint flips a latch about half way up the underside of the jet. "Emergency hatch. Come on."
For the second time tonight, Clint hoists me up and I crawl onto the uncomfortably cold steel floors of the jet.
I roll out of the way and stand to the side as Clint starts the jet and lowers the main ramp, helping my dad with Bruce while Clint assists Thor with Steve.
"I need a copilot." Clint announces as he straps on a headset. "Natasha?"
He looks towards the Russian ex-assassin, but she shakes her head and I notice she's favoring her right arm. "Dislocated shoulder, sorry."
Clint sighs. "Steve?"
Steve just glares at him while motioning towards his leg.
"Right." His eyes scan the rest of us, looking for anyone suitable.
I raise an eyebrow as his gaze lands on me, just smirking and walking forward from where I was leaning against the wall as his eyes light up.
I strap on the offered headset, my hands ghosting over the controls and finding it all quite simple.
"Shall we, sparrow?"
"We shall, hawk."
We grin at each other as Clint eases the aircraft out of the hangar and up, out into the starless night.