Up a tree
I turn, expecting to see Sigurd and Torburn, but instead I see three big guys holding three big guns. My hands shoot for the sky involuntarily. One of them strides forward and grabs my arm tightly. Without a word, I'm pulled along behind them as they swiftly move back, presumably to where they've left their vehicle. Where are the dogs? I hope they didn't meet these guys and that they're alive and well out there. I am probably not going to ever see them again. When I trip over a rock, I'm dragged along and cursed until I can get my feet back under me. It isn't long before we reach a clearing where a sleek black helicopter crouches. I look at it with a certain amount of interest; it's squattier than any other helicopter I've seen, looks a lot more advanced than anything the Avengers have, I'm sorry to say. One of the guards falls into a defensive posture, raising his gun and covering the area we came out of. The other two shove me toward the helicopter and one of them handcuffs me to my seat after fastening a seat harness over my torso. Shit. It's a matter of a couple minutes before we're all on board and the rotors start moving. It's not nearly as noisy as I anticipate. I'm not given a helmet or ear protection. My ribs ache from being shot and being dragged around by my arm. As we rise, Sigurd and Torburn burst into the clearing and I can see that they're barking. One man raises his weapon to shoot them and I kick his arm.
"Leave them alone, asshole!" I shout. He smiles nastily at me and takes aim again, but one of the other men tells him to focus on the job at hand and he immediately faces forward and turns on some equipment. I look around; all the men are focused on different jobs, so I think about how to get out of this mess. I see several places where I could cause electronic failure by plugging up the electrons, but not when I have both of my hands restrained. If we go down, I want to be able to get out fast. I focus my attention on the handcuffs, which are not standard police issue. (How do I know? Well, there might have been a public intoxication arrest in college while in New Orleans for Mardi Gras with some friends.) I diverted my thought from rum-based drinks to the handcuffs. They were weird, permanently attached to the seat's arms and buckled onto my wrists with straps for that really custom fit. I wasn't going to be able to be able to move those, molecule by molecule, anytime soon. I focused on the attachment to the seat arm; the strap was riveted to a connector that allowed for limited arm movement. Hah! I focused on weakening the pivot of the mechanism so that if I jerked my arms the connector would break. Then I would mess up the engine and bail out as soon as it seemed survivable. It had to be soon.
That was the plan. Just when I was satisfied with the handcuffs, the men started to chatter and a weapons system activated. The helicopter spun and spat two missiles at...a quinjet. Yay for Nick. I focused on the guidance system and the missiles targeted trees instead. The man on that system cursed long and loud, and I put my plan into action, blowing out a couple of sensors in the engine. The rotor for the main blades stalled. Whoops. As the helicopter began to tip, I pulled free and grabbed the weapon of the guy on the seat beside me, smashing the butt of the gun into his crotch hard--what? If you want to put somebody down, you have to hit them in a vulnerable area. He grabbed for the gun despite his wail of pain and he pressed the trigger, sending bullets everydamnwhere. One hit the pilot and the situation got a lot more intense as the helicopter rolled and started down. I smacked the man's nose with the side of my fist to pacify him some, wrenched away the gun, and curled up tight. I felt like a pro now at surviving air crashes.
I was awake for impact this time, though, which is not an experience I ever want again. After my ears quit ringing and I can make myself unclench, I take stock of my surroundings. The helicopter is on its side and there's a surprising amount of silence, broken only by pings from hot metal and dripping liquids. There's some smoke or vapor, and I decide to vacate. I unhook the harness keeping me in my seat and brace myself so I don't fall onto the broken glass and metal shards that used to be my side of the helicopter. I start to climb out of the helicopter. The asshole next to me is still alive but unconscious; I can't find it in me to give a shit. I make sure to step on him as I climb out and slither down to the blessed, solid earth.
Fuck any more of this kidnapping shit. I spot a nice tall tree a little ways off and climb it fast, stopping about midway up where the pine boughs are still thick enough to conceal me. The sun is going down, which will help hide me too, and I am staying put. I lean against the trunk and take stock. I think that bullet might have cracked some ribs; the bullet didn't go in, but the projectile force was unaffected and it hurt like a son of a gun. My head really hurt as well, and I realized that perhaps I should not push any more electrons until the concussion healed. I felt like I'd been beaten over almost every square inch of my body, and I wondered with a little alarm how I was going to get out of the tree once I started stiffening up. When I swallowed, my throat hurt too. I must have done some screaming on the way down. Dammit. I shifted and felt something in my skirt pocket; turned out to be my knife. Good that I wasn't completely defenseless. I clutched the tree, feeling nauseated as well now that the adrenaline rush was leaving, and rested my head a bit. Everything was nice and quiet.
The sun was almost down when movement caught my eye, and I focused with difficulty. Sigurd ghosted out of the trees and barked once. Torburn pranced excitedly beside him. I wanted to get down, but I was stuck. My vision was blurry and I was so stiff that I didn't think my arms could lower me down to the next branch, let alone get me down. And my ribs were flaming with pain when I breathed. The dogs came closer, tails wagging, Torburn's wagging his whole little body. He'd be adorable if not for the dried blood on his chest. I explained the situation to them and asked that they hide in case more bad people showed up, but they plopped down under my tree. I gave up and closed my eyes to help control the nausea.
It was dark when I opened my eyes again, but there was plenty of light from the almost-full moon. I squinted toward the wreck of the helicopter and saw somebody exiting, very slowly. Sigurd stood, very slowly, and I could see his hackles rise. I realized that I had to do something and told him to put him down but not kill him, and that I'd come down. Sigurd was off like a shot, knocking the man down on his belly and sitting on him, growling all the while. Meanwhile, I turned my attention to my own problem. And where were the damned Avengers, anyway? I tried to stretch carefully; I was still as stiff as a board, my whole midsection was providing a world of hurt, and my head still hurt, although not as much as before. So there was that. But now I also needed to pee, so there was another negative. I looked down and mapped my first few moves. There was a stub where a branch had broken off a long time ago, which would be very helpful. The more I could keep my weight on my feet, the better off my torso would be. It was going to be hard to move my arms. I gritted my teeth and managed to descend to the stub, then to the next branch without bursting into tears. Then the next branch. Under that one, though, there was more sizeable gap. After some manuevering, I did manage to get down there, but I almost fell off. I don't like to think of the immediate aftermath, but after I wiped my cheeks and I got a grip on myself again, I looked down to judge the remaining descent. Torburn yipped encouragingly, but it was still about twenty feet to the ground. How the hell had I gotten so far up? Adrenaline is crazy stuff. Just then I heard voices. Torburn turned to face the new threat, but then he relaxed, so I figured he knew who was coming.
FINALLY, they arrived.
"Emma?" Natasha called, and they all looked around. Cap went over to Sigurd and dealt with his prisoner. Hawkeye, Natasha, and Thor came over, and I croaked a greeting, but they apparently didn't hear. I rustled my branch, and they looked up.
"What are you doing up there?" Clint asked, baffled, and I rolled my eyes.
"You can come down now," Natasha said, and this time I managed to say "stuck" loudly enough. They studied me and Sigurd came back now that he was off-duty. They floated some ideas for getting me out of the tree, and finally Thor climbed the tree to help. I was a little concerned about the strength of the tree, but I hit the injury highlights and he nodded. He held my legs and lowered me to the next branch; when my feet found a place to stand, he went down a branch and this is how I finally got out of the tree. Steve and the prisoner had rejoined the group by then and shook his head.
"The quinjet is a good twenty minute walk from here, so we'll have to carry you. We'll take you back to Seattle; that's closest." Sigurd licked my hand reassuringly.
Thor disagreed. "I can take her to Asgard. They can treat her more effectively there."
"That's a good idea," Clint said, nodding. "She's got that skin condition." It was quickly agreed to; the others would take the prisoner to Nick so he could sweat information out of him, and I found that I didn't care about what methods he'd use. The others backed away, I put my hand on Sigurd's head and Torburn sat adoringly on Thor's foot. Thor looked down, befuddled, as Heimdall answered Thor's bellow and opened the Bifrost.