Cowboy
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Darren said.
Could a villain get more cliché?
The effects of the snakebite were still running rampant through your system. You were woozy and had labored breath, among other symptoms. They’d propped you in a chair but didn’t even bother strapping you down. The venom would have you down for the count until…oh.
“Are you ready to talk?”
“I don’t see the point if I’m going to die anyways,” you said honestly. You eyed Allen and Cyrus, who leaned against the wall behind Darren. You felt ashamed of how foolish you were to relax when they were treating you nicely. Especially Cyrus, who’d painstakingly dressed you up, combed your hair, and helped serve you a delicious breakfast before luring you into a snake’s nest. You didn’t notice the other person who sat in the corner next to a small circular table until she pretended to cough.
“Doctor Leslie?” Your astonishment kept you from holding the question back as you recognized the woman who had given you the most trouble when you were still in Stark Tower. Dr. Scoursburgh, your nemesis, who wanted your job, who’d slept with Stephen. You didn’t need another reason in that list—she’d done enough with so little. She wore casual clothes aside from a pair of rubber gloves. There was a small glass vial and a couple smaller items you couldn’t quite make out set on the table.
“I was getting to that,” Darren said impatiently, though you weren’t sure if it was directed at you or the doctor. “You could die, sure, but you don’t have to die. The snake only bit about twenty minutes ago. You’ve got four hours to make the right decision before the real damage starts taking place. After that, if you’re still being a brat, it will be a slow and painful death over the next two to three days. The window to start talking is now, and the moment you give us what we want, Doc will patch you up with that antivenom there and you’ll get to go home like the strong little cowboy you are. How’s that sound, kiddo?”
You didn’t answer. He knew how it sounded. It sounded great. Obviously. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of the antivenom, now that you knew what that little glass vial was. And now, you realized, the other items on the table was an injection kit. Doctor Leslie was prepared to heal you the moment you submitted to them.
“So she must be the girlfriend, then, right?” you asked.
“Her? No, no. You can guess better than that. Who else in the world could have given me your identical security clearance until I was caught? Who could have disabled the cameras and alarms so we could raid your apartment? Who could have helped me slip undetected through Stark Tower with the body of its champion hanging in a duffle bag off of my shoulder? I’ll give you three tries.”
You didn’t need a second guess. You realized the moment he started talking. There was only one woman who let people in the front door, one person who gave security clearances, one head of security masquerading as a receptionist. Your very best friend in the world, Margot. You suddenly remembered when Tony called her a ‘seat warmer’ when she was caught duplicating your keycard for Darren. You knew now that it hadn’t been a mistake like she swore it was. The only question now was how far back did her treachery stem?
“Margot,” you breathed. Darren nodded, beaming with pride.
“Have you made your choice, then?” he said.
“I think so.”
“Let’s hear it,” he said, waiting for you to recite the codes for the flash drive.
You shrugged.
“Nah, I’ll just die.”