Dancing With Our Hands Tied- Natasha Romanoff

05- traitor

"Make sure you kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face
There are lessons to be learned
Consequences for all the stupid things I say"- Twin Size Mattress

Quinn

It was a simple mission.

Well, it was supposed to be a simple mission.

"There have been talks about a shipment of illegal goods." Steve explained as we all sat in the briefing room. "We will go in and stop the meet up. We will need to be careful, the people we are going against have some well-trained fighters."

"Well, there goes my plan of not trying." Tony mumbled his seat near the front of the table. "Can we wrap this up?" He impatiently asked.

"Right. Suit up, we will leave in 15 minutes." Steve dismissed everyone. "Quinn, can you stay a minute?" He called to me.

After everyone left, I walked towards the front of the room where he was standing.

"Do you think you are prepared to go out today? You can wait if you want." He asked hesitantly.

"Yeah. Totally." I answered nervously.

My training was going better, Natasha had finally got me to get out of my own head and focus on my opponent. She insisted we continued to train together because Bucky and Sam were going easy on me. But I wasn't exactly confidant in my skills.

"Right." He nodded; his face looked as anxious as I felt. "Try and limit the amount of... fire. We are trying to keep a low profile."

My ability to control my powers was the exact skill I was not confidant in. It always started off great, I could conjure the flames, I could build it in my palms. But the send I tried to direct it or contain it; I would lose control.

Losing control of a fire would defiantly not be low profile.

*****

Okay... so apparently, I don't know what low profile means.

I didn't think it meant rapid gunfire, ineligible screaming, and nonstop hand to hand combat.

Despite the air being cold, my entire body was hot. I was exhausted and my arms and legs hurt. I did manage to stop myself from falling back onto the flames. But that just meant I was fighting people I was much weaker than.

A gloved fist collided with my jaw. My hands and knees collided with the concrete of the warehouse. Before I could pick myself up, the scruffy man kicked my abdomen. My lungs fought to collect enough oxygen. I managed to pull myself up, throwing a punch in the center of his face. He stumbled back slightly giving me the chance to kick in square in the chest.

When he hit the ground, I rolled my head back in relief. But I could hear footsteps rounding the corner. More than one set, it sounded more like a crowd.

"I have some guys coming into the east hallway. Like a bunch of them." I said into the earpiece, I started speed walking in the opposite direction.

"How many is a bunch?" Steve asked.

"A goddamn army by the sound of it." I whispered sharply.

"Just try and get out of there." Tony recommended.

I turned down another corner, breaking into a full run based on the noise of rapid footsteps following me. I kept on running until I found the doors that I had used to enter the warehouse. It was even louder outside; the crowded dock was filled with people shooting and kicking. I could spot Steve and Thor fighting a large group of people near a large cargo ship.