I'm lying to you // Natasha Romanoff x OC Odindottir

Chapter 14 - Star Spangled Dinner Plate

Cyrus' pov

Sam hurtles over the flyover, hands gripped firmly to the steering wheel.

"HYDRA doesn't like leaks," Sitwell breaks the taut silence, leaning forward.

"Then why don't you try sticking a cork in it?" Sam fires back, effectively making the man back down with only a glance in the rear-view mirror.

Leaning over me to poke her head into the front, Natasha reminds us, "Insight's launching in 16 hours: we're cutting it a little bit close here."

"I know," Steve sighs, sitting up straight in the seat, "we'll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarrier directly."

"What?" Jasper interrupts indignantly, "Are you crazy? That is a terrible idea-"

A thud - shortly followed by the smashing of glass - leads to an unexpected hand gripping Sitwell tightly before sending out the window and into on coming traffic.

I feel Natasha's arm snake around my waist to keep me from meeting the same fate.

"Ouch," I mutter, looking at the HYDRA agent's now empty seat. Bullets fire and I'm able to create a temporary - but strong - shield around the car.

The crunch of the hand break and the skidding off wheels sends the owner of the mystery hand flying off the roof.

The shrieking grind of metal on tarmac. Five, shallow, finger-sized valleys are etched into the road surface like common scars.

"Cool," I smirk, as the figure stands, their face obscured by a mask and dark, overgrown hair, "and badass eyeshadow."

"No, C," Natasha scolds firmly, "very much not co-"

In our stunned, momentary shock, none of us notice the 4x4 heading straight up our boot. As we're shunned along - Sam having no control over the car - the figure leaps and lands on top of the roof with a clatter. Again, breaks squeal as I notice Natasha reaching for a gun. I help her out, using a simple spell to get it to her hand. Another crash leads to the steering wheel being completely ripped out by the figure.

"Shit!" Sam yells eloquently, before being cut of by the car jerking forwards. The figure now clings to the bonnet of the 4x4 as our poor little Chevrolet is pummelled into the mid-section wall.

"HANG ON!" Steve yells, grabbing Sam and hugging him to his shield. I do the same, a force barrier being my equivalent of his star-spangled dinner plate. Natasha lands on top of me, quickly rolling off. I groan at the impacts for both sides, but struggle up.

"You're a goddess," Natasha says teasingly, "get your ass out of the dirt-"

I shove her away from me, letting a bazooka fly straight in between us and into Steve's shield, throwing him over the side of the bridge.

"SORRY STEVE!" I call over the side, watching traffic chaos unfold below. Rapid and incessant gun fire snaps me out of my gaze, making me take cover behind an equally beat up Prius.

The figure's fire trails on Natasha, as she sprints from one side of the bridge to the other. Sending a second bazooka into the car she's hidden behind, they're both sent flying off the bridge.