Emma Joan Tallis

chapter thirty-seven: Not Blown-Up

"Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead."
~ Benjamin Franklin

~*~

"The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star. They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, ninety-three minutes ago," Rumlow said.

"Any demands?" I questioned as Steve got his gloves on.

"A billion and a half," Rumlow answered, and I whistled.

"Why so steep?" Steve asked.

"Because it SHIELD's."

"So it's not off-course, it's trespassing," Steve concluded.

"I'm sure they have a good reason," Natasha offered.

"You know, I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor," Steve grumbled.

"Relax, it's not that complicated," Nat said reassuringly.

"I missed a coffee date for this," I added.

"Oh, with who?" Natasha asked, and I gave her a look. Steve and I aren't telling anyone that we're courting, or whatever it is called nowadays. However, you can't hide those kinds from spies.

"How many pirates?" Steve asked as he changed the topic.

"Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc," Rumlow said.

"Handsome," I said, and Steve sighed heavily.

"Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He's at the top of Interpol's Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions," Rumlow added.

"And deadly, even better," I quipped

"This guy's got a rep for maximum casualties."

"Hostages?" Steve asked.

"Uh, mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell," Rumlow said as he looked at the list. "They're in the galley."

"What's Sitwell doing on a launch ship?" I asked.

"Alright, I'm gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you'll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get 'em out. Let's move," Steve said.

"STRIKE, you heard the Cap. Gear up," Rumlow barked.

"Secure channel seven," Steve said.

"Seven secure," I answered. "Just like old times."

"Did you do anything fun Saturday night?" Natasha asked us.

"Slept," I answered easily. I technically fell asleep while Steve and I were watching that strange movie, War Games.

"Well, all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, so," Steve said lightly. "No, not really."

"Coming up by the drop zone, Cap," the pilot said.

"You know, if you ask Kristen out, from Statistics, she'd probably say yes," Natasha told Steve, and I gave her an exasperated look.

"That's why I don't ask," Steve said as he strapped his shield to his back and held out his hand.

"Too shy or too scared?" Nat asked.

"Too busy!" Steve exclaimed, and then we both jumped out of the plane.

"The water is going to be cold!" I shouted at Steve. He just laughed, and then we dived into the ocean.

"Cold?" Steve asked as he helped me up.