Calculated Risks
Whatever AIDA had done to modify Anton Ivanov’s artificial body, it was effective.
When May caught up to Coulson, he had cornered the Superior in a back-alley. May watched as Ivanov put the box containing his brain carefully to the side before attacking Coulson with an overhanded strike that he only barely managed to block. By the time she entered the fight, Coulson was on his knees from the effort of fending off Ivanov’s successive blows.
May struck at Ivanov with a kick to the stomach. It was like hitting a brick wall with her foot. Ivanov let out a grunt and made a wild swipe at her head. As she leaned back to avoid the punch, Coulson used the distraction to land a jab to his gut with his prosthetic hand.
Ivanov stumbled back a few inches, but quickly recovered with an arrogant smirk.
May and Coulson exchanged a look.
The Superior was not going to go down easily.
They charged Ivanov from opposite sides. If they stayed on the periphery of his sight, he could not focus all of his attention on either one of them.
While Ivanov concentrated on dodging Coulson’s fists, May struck him in the kidneys with a force that would have had most people screaming in pain. Ivanov merely moaned and twisted toward her with a backhanded slap that she had to duck to avoid. Coulson tried to use Ivanov’s lack of balance to swipe his feet out from under him, but he remained rooted to the spot.
He turned his attention back to Coulson. Ivanov’s first blow to Coulson’s abdomen was blocked by his elbow, but the second hit him directly chest, sending Coulson tumbling across the alley into a brick wall.
“Phil!” May yelled.
The Russian turned to face May, obscuring her view of her fallen partner.
“I haven’t forgotten about you, mishka,” he snarled at her. “I remember what you did to me and my men all of those years ago.”
May narrowed her eyes. Her knuckles cracked as her hands tightened into fists.
“Then you should remember what I do to people who attack Phil Coulson.”
She held nothing back. For every swipe and lunge Ivanov made at her, May hit back with two kicks and a punch. Nothing seemed to shake him. He was slow and clumsy compared to her, but his skin seemed to be impenetrable. Two minutes in, her knuckles were bruised and one of her fingers was broken.
When she leaned back to avoid a wide feint to her left, Ivanov hooked her around her neck with his right arm, spinning her around and lifting her off her feet.
For the first time since the mission began, panic rose in her throat and almost choked her.
Acting on instinct, she bit down hard on the arm that pinned her against Ivanov’s chest. He howled and his grip weakened. May slammed her head back into his nose and he dropped her to the concrete, where she fell to her hands and knees.
“Get up!” A voice inside of her screamed.
May lifted her head and saw Coulson sprawled on the ground.
His eyes were open, but he seemed to be having trouble focusing. He looked at her, then his eyes travelled to the object beside him.
Ivanov’s head.
It was unguarded. If Coulson destroyed it, this would all be over.
He reached for the box.
Ivanov acted quickly. Before May could get to her feet, he kicked her squarely in the gut, knocking her to the ground.
May heard a howl echo through the alley that made her break out in a sweat. The guttural moan was so thick with despair and anguish that it ripped the air from her body. When Ivanov reached down and pulled her to her knees by her hair, the cries stopped. May realized the sound had come from her.
She could barely register what was happening.
Something cold and metallic was being pressed to her throat. Ivanov held her firmly by the roots of her hair, forcing her to face Coulson. May wrapped her arms around her waist, desperate to shield the child inside of her, even though she feared she was already too late.
“You won’t destroy it, Phil Coulson,” Ivanov was saying. “You went through all of this effort to deceive me, to catch my men unawares. We both know that the information I know is invaluable.”
Coulson’s eyes darted between May and the box. Through the fog in her brain, May realized something was wrong. She had never seen him like this.
He was afraid.
“You and I both know that you need me alive,” Ivanov said. “And for that, you need the body and the mind. One without the other is useless to you. You can take me down and those thugs back there, but there are hundreds of us. Without the information in my head, you’ll never take us all.”
May swallowed and her eyes overflowed.
In the past, she accepted death as an inevitability in her line of work. One day, she would be a fraction too slow or duck too late, and there would be no magical portal to bring her back. She did not mind dying for a good cause.
But that was before she became a mother.
If there was a chance in hell that her baby was still alive, she could not die. Not now.
Coulson caught her eye and his fear seemed to disappear. His mouth became a hard line as he looked up at the Superior.
“You won’t destroy it, Coulson,” Ivanov repeated. “Not even to save this little bitch.”
Coulson smiled at him.
“You’ve spent your entire life learning everything there is to know about me,” he said. “And you still have no idea who I am.”
He levelled his gun at the box.
“Dosvedanya tovarisch.”
The box exploded into shards and viscera as the bullet from his gun shredded the brain that controlled the monster.
The pressure on May’s scalp abated and the knife fell from her throat. She felt the ground tremor as the Superior crumpled behind her. She doubled over, feeling the cold, wet concrete against her forehead.
“May?”
She closed her eyes. Coulson’s voice sounded far away.
In spite of everything that had happened over the last two months, she never once wished to be back in the Framework that had held her prison before this moment. Now, she hoped that this was the fantasy. That there was a way to make this all fade away.
He hand rested on her back. It was warm and heavy, anchoring her to the present.
“Melinda, please look at me.”
She picked her head off the pavement and looked up into Coulson’s eyes.
“What did he do to you?” He asked.
He did not understand. His tough-as-nails partner had been reduced to a trembling wreck by a blow that should have just made her angrier than hell.
“Phil, I—I need to go to the hospital,” she told him.
“Okay,” he hedged. “Did he break something?”
The Melinda May he knew did not seek out medical attention unless she was at death’s door.
“Please don’t ask. Not now,” she muttered. “Just get me to a doctor.”
“Alright,” he said.
Coulson lifted her to her feet and they stumbled out of the alley together.