Plan C (fka Plan A)
“I need backup!” you yelled into your comms for what felt like the hundredth time. This mission had gone from bad to worse and no matter how many guards and soldiers you took out, it seemed like there were a dozen more charging around every corner.
You slammed one guard against the wall just as another came at you with a knife. Instinctively, you raised your hand and felt the edge slice across your palm. The stinging was immediate and even with your adrenaline at its peak, you couldn’t help but let out a pained, “fuck,” through gritted teeth.
You plowed through another guard with your shoulder, bracing yourself for Steve’s inevitable admonishment for using “language.” But the comms were silent. On any other mission, you would’ve been hurt that no one asked if you were okay –– hell, you could be bleeding out for all they knew –– but you figured each of your teammates were in a similarly impossible position.
You finally managed to take out the last guard of the bunch with a painful knee to the chest that definitely cracked a few ribs. You weren’t as strong as Steve, but the benefits of the watered-down serum you did receive sure came in useful. You used the thirty seconds of quiet to wrap your hand as tight as you could. It was bleeding more than you liked and you’d need stitches once you got back to the compound. Not to mention, since it was your dominant hand, you’d have to endure the teasing of your teammates as you struggled to eat or do just about anything that required any coordination.
Maybe I can bribe Wanda to use her magic to help me out, you thought as you crept towards the next hallway. The mission, on paper, was straightforward. The building was part of an old industrial complex that used to make something that had since been outsourced to another country. So, in classic bad guy style, it had been taken over by a local crime syndicate who used it as a warehouse to stockpile their weapons cache. They mostly traded in small arms; weapons that fell under the jurisdiction of either the local police or the FBI. Whoever won the coin toss, you’d thought as Nat had led the briefing in the conference room. You were sure it was more complicated than that, but your opinions of most local police forces or the FBI weren’t particularly high. The problem was, the syndicate had recently gotten ahold of some of Tony Stark’s old weapons and, though they didn’t know what to do with them, had been approached by some high-powered criminals who did. The criminals, if Nat’s intel was accurate (and when wasn’t it?), planned on deconstructing the weapons and then mass-producing knockoffs, essentially reflooding the black market with Tony’s deadly weaponry. And that’s how a small potatoes syndicate became a problem for Earth’s mightiest heroes.
Except it wasn’t supposed to be a problem. The entire week leading up to the mission, the facility only ever had six guards at a time. Tony hadn’t even come, citing some previous “speaking engagement” in Aspen, which everyone knew was just another excuse for the uber-wealthy to get together, drink, and brag about the custom interiors on their private jets. Or, in Tony’s case, his private team of superheroes. And now, that team was on the brink of extinction.
“Uh, guys?” your voice sounded small as you stared down the hallway at another dozen guards with bigger guns. “I mean it this time. An extra pair of hands would really come in handy.”
"Get out of there, Y/N!" Steve's voice finally crackled through the comms, betraying a level of anxiety you didn't think him capable of. At least something on this mission was still working. But just as you went to turn around, a second set of guards appeared, pinning you in on either side.
"Shit."
The first set of guards opened fire and you did the only thing you could think of, launch yourself at the only door in the hallway. You were surprised to find it unlocked and instinctively locked it behind you, regardless of how comical that was given the firepower you were up against. But it gave you a second to gaze around the room, and you were surprised to find it full of boxes and boxes of... Tony's weapons.
You could hear heavy footfalls outside and grabbed the nearest crate, pushing it up against the door. It was heavy, even for you, and should hold the guards for a few minutes. You added a few more just to be safe as you talked into your comms.
"I found the stash. No wonder this hallway was so heavily guarded."
From her perch on the roof, Natasha studied her smartwatch, locating your position in the building. She glanced across the roof at Steve. "Two more vehicles incoming," he said, eyes locked on the ground below. At the base of the building, a small militia had taken up residence, offloading dozens more of the scary-looking guards with big guns that had cornered you in the hallway.
Natasha put her hand to her ear, blocking out the wind. "Y/N, listen to me, those aren't their guards. It looks like the buyers decided to pay a surprise visit, probably to make sure the local syndicate wasn't double-crossing them."
Just then, Wanda and Sam pushed through the hatch onto the roof, both looking a bit worse for wear. "Just one time, I'd like a mission to go as planned," Sam huffed as he joined Steve in staring at the amassing mercenaries below.
Wanda scanned the roof. "Where's Y/N?" As the two newest members of the team, Wanda was your closest friend and you were the only person she could talk to when Nat and Steve got a little too well... Nat and Steve.
"Wanda, can you take out these two trucks?" Steve nodded towards the two new vehicles speeding up the access road. Wanda eyed Natasha; she knew Steve's request was in part a distraction to get her to stop asking about you.
As red tendrils shot forth from Wanda's hands, Steve pulled Natasha aside.
"Where is she?" His brow creased with the type of concern he'd only let Natasha see.
"The basement," Natasha sighed. Steve had tasked you with working from the ground floor down while Wanda and Sam had tackled the upper levels. Natasha had agreed with the plan at the time, but now she couldn't hide the tinge of accusation in her voice.
Either Natasha was a better liar than she thought or Steve pretended not to notice. "If we retreat, we may not get another chance. We'll be tracking Tony's toys for the rest of our lives."
"I know, Steve," Natasha said, already five steps ahead of the super soldier. "That's why I'm going down there." She met Steve's gaze. "Alone."
"Not without me." Two heads popped up to find Wanda's defiant face staring back at them. "What? You thought two little trucks would keep me busy for more than a few seconds? So, what's the plan?"
Natasha didn't hide her smirk at Wanda's determination. Not to mention, if there were as many armed guards as you had said, she could use the witch's help. She pointed to another rusty hatch on the roof. "Elevator shaft."
You'd spent the last several minutes looking for any way out besides the door that you'd come through but the room was entirely encased in reinforced concrete. From what you could tell, its prior use had been as a room to run vehicle crash tests and there was a pile of equally fascinating and horrifying crash test dummies in the corner.
The problem was, the guards on the other side of the door had spent the last several minutes shooting at it and you knew it was only a matter of seconds before they'd breach your hastily made barricade.
So you'd switched to Plan C, which was really just a modified version of Plan A -- Complete the Mission. It wouldn't have been Steve-approved, of course, but given the circumstances, it would have to do.
You'd started in the back. Tearing open the crates wasn't the hard part; it was making sure you didn't accidentally discharge any of the weaponry that was tedious. Realizing you were running out of time, you switched from taking the weapons out of the crates to simply ripping off the lids and hoping the chain reaction would be strong enough to do the rest. Given the size of the stockpile, you were pretty certain it wouldn't be an issue.
"Y/N, we're on our way. Don't do anything stupid." Natasha's voice cut in and out but you couldn't pretend that her message was anything but clear.
Your eyes scanned across the room. Only a few crates left. "I found an air vent, Nat. I'm on my way to the roof."
Natasha and Wanda locked eyes as they scaled the elevator shaft, Wanda using her magic to float, a trick Natasha had simply called "cheating," before clipping herself to a repelling rope.
Natasha looked down at her watch. Your tracker hadn't moved, still pinging in the basement. "You know I can see your location, right?" Natasha shot back, fear flooding her veins. Why were you lying?
Your voice hardened as it came through the comms. "Get out of the building. Please."
Just then, the door finally gave way. The guards' initial sounds of excitement turned to confusion when they found themselves stymied by the piles of crates and weaponry.
"There she is!" You knew it was time when the first guard spotted you and tried to aim his weapon. You grabbed the nearest bomb and aimed it at the wall above his head, hoping your super strength combined with the wall's reinforced concrete would create enough of an impact to trigger an explosion.
As soon as the bomb left your fingers you dove in the opposite direction.
And then, everything went black.