The Truth Behind The Myths

Shots Fired

He shouldn't do it.

"Shoot!"

He shouldn't.

"Sniper, shoot the targets."

Lying on a roof near the large tower, he knew he shouldn't shoot any of them.

Nico had shown up.

He was talking to the blondes.

The blondes from the memory.

The memories.

What were their names.

"Sniper, shoot. Or I'll shoot you."

So he shot.

The bullets missed.

No.

Nico went down.

Nico.

He shot Nico.

He didn't want to kill them.

He didn't want to.

He dropped his gun.

Sprinted for the door to the roof.

Pain erupted from his calf.

He threw the door open and ran down the stairs.

Ran.

Ran.

Running reminded him of Nico.

Of the blondes.

Of soldiers.

"Get him!"

The shouts rang in his ears.

"Stupid earpiece."

He tore it out.

Threw it to the side.

He ran.

He ran away.

Away from the men.

Away from his targets.

He ran.

Down the street.

Around corners.

Avoiding black-clad agents.

Agents of Hydra.

Hydra.

Hail Hydra?

No.

Not anymore.

He ran until his lungs gave out.

Then he hid in an alley.

An alley.

A familiar alley.

He pulled himself to his feet and began to run again.

Run.

One foot in front of the other.

Run.

Run.

Run!

A woman's voice urged him on.

"Run!"

"Run, Seaweed Brain!"

Seaweed Brain?

What was that?

Nico's voice joined in.

"Run, Kelp-Face! Don't make me carry you!"

Kelp-Face.

Seaweed Brain.