Chapter 7
Natasha stood with her back up against the wall, rifle pressed to her chest. Footsteps echoed around the corner, approaching her. She checked her ammunition. Shit. Only four rounds left. Plus, she was exhausted. She had successfully reached the stairs, and now, according to Karen, was on the same floor as Ross’s office. But there was still a lot more work to do.
The footsteps were getting closer, and her trained ear estimated about ten troops coming her way. She had to use her remaining bullets wisely.
She took a deep breath, then turned the corner. The group halted in surprise as she fired her first bullet. Through the right hand of one, and straight into the neck of a second. Her first target dropped the pistol he had been holding in his hand, which now had a smoking hole in it. The second crumpled to the ground without a sound.
The soldiers shouted, caught completely by surprise, and Natasha took advantage of the confusion by firing two more bullets straight into the foreheads of two of them. Shots flew around her, and she ran for cover around the corner once again. Three men were down for good, and one disarmed. Six armed opponents left. One bullet.
She somersaulted back into the open, changing directions on them as shots rang out. She fired her last bullet, and two more fell, groaning in agony as their rifles dropped from their hands. Both had bullet holes clean through their wrists.
Her rifle was now empty of ammunition. She threw it with all her might, straight at one soldier’s face. He stumbled back, accidentally tripping one of his comrades. They both crashed to the floor in a series of yells and curses.
But Natasha barely noticed. She was too busy charging at the last two opponents. She practically flew through the air, landing on the shoulders of one of them. She twisted his neck, and as he fell she jumped into the next soldier, kicking his rifle away. Unfortunately, it skittered away across the floor, far out of her reach. She punched him in the knee, then headbutted his forehead.
The two men who had tripped each other were getting to their feet, and had recovered their pistols. She dodged the rapid fire, cleanly except for one bullet, which caught the sleeve of her jacket. She shrugged it off, and quickly grabbed a pistol still in the hands of one of them. The sound of shots being fired filled her ears as they both struggled for control. Finally, she grabbed his shoulder, and simply thrust him face-first into the floor.
With his pistol now in her possession, she fired it quickly at the four men left standing.
Natasha stood in the circle of downed soldiers, wiping the sweat from her brow. She examined her shiny new pistol. Ten rounds left. Not much. She picked up another from the hands of a fallen opponent. Another ten rounds. She grabbed another. Twelve rounds. It would do, for now. She tucked the two ten-round pistols into her jacket, keeping the twelve-round clutched in her hand.
She put her finger to her ear. “Peter?”
“Nice of you to check in,” came the voice of the teenager. He sounded tired.
“How’s it going?”
“Not bad. Should I come help you?”
“Are you on the highest level?”
“Yep.”
“I’m on the third-lowest.”
“Okay, I’ll come down. Even if you don’t need my help fighting, I can still swing you back up instead of making you run all the way up the stairs.”
“Sounds good. Can I talk to Karen?” Natasha inquired.
“Sure.” Peter appeared to mute for a few moments, and soon enough Natasha was greeted by the A.I.’s metallic voice.
“Hello, Ms. Romanoff. How can I help you?”
“Can you see me on the map?”
“Yes.”
“Great. How close am I to Ross’s office?”
“You are very close. Just run down the hallway the way you were going, and I can tell you when you reach the door.”
Natasha jogged in one direction. “This way?”
“That is correct. Ross’s office is seventy-four feet from your position.”
“Awesome. I’m guessing it’s locked.”
Peter’s voice came on the line again. “Don’t worry, as soon as we separated I asked Ned to hack the lock to Ross’s office. There might still be a lock that’s not, like, connected to the online system, like just a bolt or something, but that’s it.”
“Tell Ned he’s helpful.” Natasha had found his office. A small nameplate was stuck to the door, reading Personal Office of Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross. She tried the handle, but sure enough, it was locked manually. Without hesitation, she fired two concise shots from her pistol at the handle, and the door opened ajar. She marched in.
“Karen, where’s Ross right now?”
“He is approaching your position,” Karen responded immediately. “At his pace, you have only two minutes and forty-five seconds until he intercepts you.”
“Got it.”
Natasha jogged over to a table, on which sat a pistol, her pistol, sleek and shiny. Next to it was her knife, the silver blade stained with blood. She realized with a start that some of it must be her blood, from the fight when they had captured her.
As she tucked both weapons into her jacket, she realized that she really hadn’t had that much stuff on her when she was captured. Her eyes swept the room, looking for any other gear in sight. Then she raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Two black and silver batons were sitting side-by-side on the table. Those were her batons. The ones Tony had made her years ago. Except those had been left at the compound when she had left… Where had Ross gotten them?
The realization hit her like a brick. Ross had been at the compound, according to Peter. He must have stolen them. “That bastard,” she mumbled under her breath. She grabbed her batons, twirling them in her hands, enjoying the familiar grip. She lined them into her jacket, tossing a pistol on the floor to make space. Then she turned to the many computers. There had to be something on here that could be of some use.
She rested her hand on the keyboard, typing commands furiously into the system. She saw pictures of her, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Bruce, and Thor, all with descriptions of them underneath. The missing Avengers. No one knew where any of them were.
After a moment’s hesitation, curiosity won her over. She clicked on Steve’s file, and started reading. If Ross knew anything about Steve’s whereabouts, she wanted to know.
Steven Grant Rogers, AKA Captain America. Male. Born July 4, 1918. Denied enlistment due to poor health, Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare…
Yeah, yeah, yeah. She knew all of this. In fact, she had read this, almost word-for-word, back when the Avengers had first been formed. Damn, that felt like another lifetime.
She skimmed the next few lines, which were simply a brief summary of his exploits during World War II, his defeat of Red Skull, and crashing into the ice. She skimmed all the way through 2016, when the Civil War took place.
Captain Rogers refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, while Tony Stark, AKA Iron Man, agreed to. James Buchanan Barnes, AKA the Winter Soldier, bombed the United Nations at the signing of the Accords in Vienna. Captain Rogers led the effort to bring Barnes to justice, but later aided in the escape from custody having been convinced of his innocence. Roger’s loyalty to Barnes, coupled with his refusal to sign the Accords, created a rift between the Avengers and drove the Captain into hiding with other like-minded Avengers such as Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, and Sam Wilson. The current whereabouts of the Captain remains unknown, having been labeled a fugitive following Barnes’s escape from custody.
Nothing. Natasha clenched her jaw in disbelief. Ross knew nothing. Goddammit, this was such a waste of time. She clicked away from Steve’s file.
She kept going, looking for anything that she could save. She stopped, and squinted at a file called G. Stacy: Spider-Man Rebirth. Spider-Man Rebirth? Whatever that meant, it couldn’t be good.
She clicked on the file, sticking Peter’s hard drive into the computer simultaneously. She downloaded the file, barely looking at it. All she caught was a picture of a blonde girl who looked to be around Peter’s age. “What are you up to, Thaddeus?” she whispered.
“Hey, Natasha?”
The spy very nearly jumped as Peter spoke suddenly in her ear. “Yeah?” she replied quickly.
“Karen says that Ross is only forty-five seconds away from you, so you should probably get out of there… Do you have your stuff?”
“Yeah, I’ve got what I need.” At least she hoped. This Spider-Man Rebirth thing sure seemed suspicious. “Where are you?”
“Almost there. Meet me at the staircase?”
“Fine with me.” With that, Natasha quickly pulled out the hard drive, and sprinted out of the office. She looked both ways down the hallway.
“Karen says to go left, then turn left again at the corner,” Peter directed.
“Copy that,” she acknowledged. Then she ran.
Peter shot his web at the handrail of the staircase, then used his momentum to swing up. He landed gracefully on the ground in a lunge position, his right fist to the ground and his left hand in the air behind him. Classic superhero pose, he thought, feeling pretty epic if he did say so himself.
“Oh please, get over yourself,” came Natasha’s exasperated voice on the comms.
“What?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
Peter stood up straight. He could see the red headed spy jogging towards him down the empty hallway. He leaned comfortably against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’ve never done an epic superhero landing.”
Natasha slowed down as she reached Peter, looking him up and down sternly. “Never.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I, unlike you, and basically every other Avenger, do not have an inflated ego.”
Peter spread his hands. “Oh, you are so lying. Not even once?”
“This discussion is over. Let’s go.”
“Those are the words of someone who is lying.”
“No. Those are the words of someone who wants to get the hell out of here before we’re killed.”
Peter shrugged. “Fair point.” He hesitated, then stepped tentatively towards her, arms outstretched. “Do you want me to…?”
Natasha tilted her head to the side. “Come on. We don’t have all day.”
“So, should I…”
“Carry me? No, just leave me here, beaten up and basically about to pass out, it’s okay,” she responded sarcastically.
“Oh- okay, I’m going to assume that was sarcastic- um…” Peter, clearly uncomfortable, stepped towards her and wrapped his arms lightly around her waist.
After a few awkward moments of Peter stammering and Natasha trying not to burst out laughing, the spy said, “Okay, you know what?” She stepped out of his arms, and Peter exhaled in relief. She stuck out her hand, instructing, “Just grab my hand, and carry me. You have super strength or some shit, yeah?”
“Um, yeah, I have super strength,” Peter mumbled. He took Natasha’s hand, just as a group of soldiers turned the corner in front of them.
“Now, get going before we get killed.”
“Yep.” Peter shot a web, and the two of them flew up the center of the staircase. Natasha swung wildly below, wincing in pain.
“You’re going to pull my arm out of my socket!”
“This was your idea!”
“Yeah, but you could at least be gentle!”
“I’m trying! It’s hard!” Peter complained. He jumped onto the topmost floor. “Karen, where’s a good exit point?”
The A.I. responded, “The easiest way is through the vents.”
“Great,” Natasha groaned.
“Ned?”
“Yeah?” Ned replied.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Natasha interrupted. “Has Ned been listening to us the whole time?”
“No, I muted myself,” Peter said confidently.
“No, you didn’t,” said Ned. “I heard everything. And for the record, superhero landings are awesome.”
Natasha sighed. “Whatever. We need to get out of here, then we can finish this little chat of ours.”
“Sounds good.” Peter turned a corner, only to find a band of soldiers charging at them, guns at the ready.
“One more bout?” Natasha asked wearily.
“I guess so,” said Peter cheerfully. He dropped to the ground, and let go of Natasha. She twirled her two batons in her hands as Peter webbed up as many troops as he could.
Natasha slid feet first into the legs of one opponent, knocking him backwards and away from the group. She jumped lightly to her feet, then punched him across the jaw, finishing with a whack upside the face with her baton.
Peter shot a web to the wall, then swung, kicking two enemies to the floor. He webbed the first, sticking him tightly to the floor, then elbowed the next in the face, followed by a punch to the gut.
Another soldier approached Natasha from behind, but she simply spun around, walloping him in the face with her batons. She moved on, using the clubs to take down two more.
One of the larger foes approached her, and she dug her knife out of her jacket, and stabbed him through the heart, then spun around, planting the blade dead-center in another’s forehead. Then, she pulled a pistol out of her jacket, and shot the rest of the soldiers to the ground.
Peter had just dodged a punch, and was preparing a counter-attack, when his opponent simply dropped to the ground. Natasha stood right behind him, pistol smoking.
“Why didn’t you lead with that?” Peter asked, gesturing to her firearm. He bounced incessantly on his toes, adrenaline still surging through his veins.
Natasha put her batons back in her jacket. “Ross stole my batons, which I haven’t used in a while. Just wanted to shake the rust off, make sure my skills were up to par.”
“But, like, you have a gun.”
“Your observation skills are off the charts.”
Peter swallowed a chuckle. “But you can just shoot them. Why do you need to practice hitting them with sticks?”
“I don’t always have a gun.”
Peter opened his mouth, then closed it again. In his opinion, this didn’t seem like a great time for practice, but he supposed if Natasha was confident enough in her ability to stay alive, he should trust her. She was still alive, after all.
“That’s what I thought,” said Natasha unabashedly, as if she could hear Peter’s thoughts. “Now, let’s go.”
Meanwhile, Thaddeus Ross turned the corner sharply, into the corridor which held his office. He sprinted towards it, but he knew the damage was done. He rushed into the room, slamming the door angrily behind him. Romanoff’s pistol and batons were gone.
He held his walkie talkie to his mouth. “Where’s Romanoff?” he barked.
“Sir, we don’t know, most of our troops are down-”
“Do you know where Spider-Man entered?”
“Yes, sir, it’s-”
“Shut up, and send every man we have left down there to stop them!” he barked.
“Yes, sir!”
“Karen, where’s the vent where I came in?” Peter asked.
“Two hundred feet to your right,” Karen replied promptly.
“So where’d Karen come from?” Natasha asked as she followed Peter to the grate.
“She came with the suit. From Mr. Stark.”
“I see. And Tony just gave a multi-billion dollar suit with one of the most advanced A.I.s in the entire world to a high schooler he found on, what, YouTube?”
“Well, it’s kinda a long story,” Peter said thoughtfully.
“That is so helpful, Spider-Man, thank you.”
Suddenly, Natasha spun around. The sound of many sets of boots echoed across the halls. She slid a second pistol out of her jacket, so that she was dual-wielding, a pistol in each hand.
“Oh boy, they’re coming for us, aren’t they?” Peter asked aloud.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Natasha muttered. “Now get to that vent grate, I’ll hold them off.”
“You got it, Nat.”
Natasha faltered. Only Clint and Steve had ever used that nickname…
Peter hadn’t seemed to notice the significance of what he had just said. He was swinging off, away from her. After one more moment of hesitation, Natasha remembered that she had work to do. She rested her fingers on the triggers of her two stolen pistols, and jogged after Peter, just as Ross’s troops came into view.
She fired in both directions, and troops fell on either side of her. It took a great deal of self-control to stop herself from firing to the beat of the music Ned was still blasting over the PA system. Peter helped out by throwing a web bomb at one side, the meshy substance flinging soldiers all over the place, or simply webbing their arms to their chest or sticking their legs together.
“Why don’t you ever lead with that?” Natasha shouted.
“I only have two!” Peter yelled back. “None left!”
“Of course he only has two.” Natasha shook her head dramatically.
“You’re bullying me. I feel unsafe in this environment!” complained Peter.
“Me too, bitch!” Natasha yelled just as she dodged a bullet headed straight between her eyes. She was exhausted, bleeding, had a pounding headache, and was very ready to be done with this particular prison escape. But she kept fighting.
Finally Peter jumped up to the ceiling, and ripped the grate from the opening. “Grab my hand!” he yelled.
Natasha reached up, her firearm waving dangerously in Peter’s direction. Spider-Man took hold of her wrist, and launched her into the vents.
Natasha had been in many a vent in her years as a spy. So she could say from personal experience that it never got any less gross.
Peter followed up behind her, the zipping of his webs echoing in the empty duct. “Go, go, go!”
“I’m going!” Natasha crawled on her hands and knees through the passage, wrinkling her nose at the slime and dirt around her.
“Karen, can you turn on my eye lights?” Peter asked.
“Your what?” Natasha asked.
“The suit’s eyes light up,” Peter explained. “Should I go in front?”
“Uh, sure.” Natasha scooted as far as she could to the side, allowing Peter to squeeze past her.
“Ugh!” Peter exclaimed. “Can we talk about why you’re soaking wet?”
“I’m sorry,” Natasha said, in a not very apologetic tone, “Ross had some fun games for me and they involved dumping water that’s probably from the toilet on my head!”
“Ew, it’s toilet water?”
“I’m the one soaked in it, dumbass!”
Natasha heard yelling behind her, and turned around to find that one soldier was being pushed into the vents by the other. She fired one shot, straight to the head, and he fell without a sound.
Peter winced at the gunshot. “Geez, those are really loud!”
“You really are Captain Obvious, aren’t you?”
“Well, better that than to be really vague and mysterious, right?”
“Dummy, your whole shebang is that you’re super mysterious and nobody knows who you are.”
“She’s got a point,” Ned chimed in.
“Hi, Ned. Nice of you to join in,” Natasha said sarcastically. “Are you doing anything besides listening to our conversations?”
“Hey! In case you didn’t realize, I hacked everything in this building, and basically made this whole thing possible!”
Natasha fired again at another soldier who had managed to make his way into the vents. She and Peter were making progress, and the light at the end of the passage was getting fainter and fainter. “Well,” she continued. “You’re not doing anything now, are you?”
“I’m playing the background music!”
“Believe it or not, I don’t care to hear Never Gonna Give You Up on repeat!”
“I’m rickrolling them!” Ned retaliated.
“And I fully support that, they deserve it, but it’s not exactly helping us at this point!”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Something helpful, maybe.”
“Here’s something helpful.” Ned cleared his throat. “You guys are really close to the last exit. This prison break was a success!”
“That is a fact, Ned. Not something helpful. A good fact, and something I am happy about, but not helpful,” Natasha replied.
“You guys are impossible!” Peter announced.
“No, you,” Natasha countered wittily.
“I am not impossible. I am… possible.”
“Congrats, Peter. You’re possible.”
“Thank you. It means a lot to- Ow!” He stopped crawling abruptly.
“Did you just hit your head on the grate?” Natasha asked him with a grin.
“No!”
“He did,” Karen confirmed.
“As you do,” came Ned’s voice.
“Oh, shut up.” Peter kicked the grate out, and hopped out into the Subway, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a train whizzing by. “By the way, Natasha, don’t get hit by a train,” he added helpfully.
“Really? Shit, you just ruined my plan. I really felt like getting hit by a train today, but I guess since you said that, I won’t.” Natasha pushed herself out of the duct, and dropped to the ground. “Let’s get back to your apartment.”
“Right away,” Peter agreed.