𝒑𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒕 || s. rogers & b. barnes

13||; 𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏

⤷ march 29, 2014
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Escaping from HYDRA proved to be far more easier than last time, she recalled, and Irina had yet to know why. She runs the empty halls, going up many floors before finally getting somewhere semi-modern. On the fifteenth floor she climbs to, Irina is finally presented with a view of the outside.

Washington, DC.

There was little to no doubt she'd been brought straight to the Triskelion, S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. To think she was right where she needed to be.

She didn't know if Alexander Pierce was just that dumb or not.

Probably not.

Irina pants as she goes up another few floors, careful as she slips past corners, but so far, S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters was near empty, save for the occasional agent with a gun sprinting down the hall.

She turns another corner, and is presented with at least a dozen agents in black suits, all armed, shooting at a group of at least another dozen agents down the hall, who shoot back.

Oh shit, was this a S.H.I.E.L.D. vs HYDRA gun fight she was seeing right now?

Irina wracks her brain. She should help, right? Because obviously, not all of S.H.I.E.L.D. had to have been corrupted with HYDRA. She needed to help save what little S.H.I.E.L.D. agents' lives she could.

How could she tell who was who, though?

Oh.

She hears herself snort.

It was obvious.

"Hail HYDRA!" She shouts over the gunfire. An agent in the back lines of the group closest to her peer over their shoulder at her, recognizing the saying with smile, as if expecting backup.

Nope.

"Gotcha," sings Irina under her breath. She lifts both hands, puffs of energy pouring out and she lets it encase the group of HYDRA agents. With a shout, she throws her hands to the right, the energy throwing the agents with it. They all slam into the wall, before crumpling to the wall in a pile of limp bodies.

Gunfire seizes immediately.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents look at her with flabbergasted looks, mouthes dropped open. She doesn't waste time, marching towards them. Some agents immediately lower their weapons, but others hesitantly keep theirs up. She looks at the agent closest to her, a dark-skinned woman who seemed to recognize her.

"Where's Steve?" She demands immediately.

"You're — You —" a man stammers, pointing weakly at her. "Aren't you an Avenger?" He squeaks out.

"I am. I was —" she corrects. She didn't want to fight anymore, but here she was. Fury better be singing her praises to God or Satan in whatever afterlife he'd ended up in, because she was pissed she was dragged into this again because he decided to choose her and Steve's apartment of all places to get shot in. "I was an Avenger. Not important. Steve Rogers. Where is he?"

"Helping take down the helicarriers," the dark-skinned woman says immediately, staring at her confidently. "He needs all the help he can get. Take whatever you need. We're here to help."

Irina nods. "Thanks," she says, relieved. Steve was here. He was stopping HYDRA. She just had to get to him. Help him. "First things first...I need a suit." Because looking down at herself; dirty hospital gown, bare feet...she wasn't a pretty sight. Let alone suited up appropriately for a battle.