Chapter Nineteen

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{Chapter Nineteen}

Side note: any feedback or advice you have is greatly appreciated and encouraged.

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(Natasha's Perspective)

So our plan didn't go quite as expected.
When Clint and I made it through the entrance to the tank, we were greeted to the shower of bullets firing from around the corner.

Firing back, we forced our way forward into the eye of the storm.

As the last of my bullets emptied themselves over our enemies, I duck to grab the pistol strapped to my leg and in one fluid motion I manage to switch guns without my finger leaving the trigger.

The men in front of us fall one by one until there is a break where we are able to push ahead and down another hallway.

God, how big IS this place?

As the hall stretched on, side halls erupted more and more frequently. The cement stone that lined the walls was cracked and rough around the edges.

The further we crept the more tense the atmosphere grew.

Reaching the end of the hallway, we both slowed to a halt. The end split off into two directions.

"I'll take right." I tell Clint.

"Something's off about this, Nat. I don't like it." Clint breathes as he fiddles with the two guns in his palms.

"Barton" I move over to him, "We don't have the time. It's just in and out, okay? All we need to do is identify the group as HYDRA and steal a weapon. Let's get it done."

Turning back to face the right exit, I narrow my eyes to check for signs of movement.

"Be careful Nat." Clint speaks softly as we head to the left.

Looking back at him, I give him a small nod, letting our eyes lock for a moment longer before we both saunter off down the two separate paths.

"You too, Clint." I murmur under my breath as I shake away the doubt from my mind.

It's time to focus. Remain on high alert.
This hall was not unlike any other hall in this place. The same stone lined walls, the same unexpected passages jutting out from along the walls on either side.

I keep a steady rhythm as I walked. One foot in front of the other.

I continued forward checking each passage as I go.

Until I reach one passage on my left where the fluorescent lighting bars that hung along the ceiling throughout the area was suddenly replaced with larger lighting panels that shone a little brighter than the other passages.

It could be a trap.

But my gut told me it was more than that.

Either way, I couldn't stop now. So I swallowed a large breath of air and steadily made my way down the passage.

"Please don't be a trap."

I whisper under my breath as I go.


(Rose's Perspective)

Tip toeing through the halls, I dart my eyes constantly, watching for danger.

My heart thumps rapidly and my breathing hitches every time I find trails of blood or every so often even unconscious bodies strewn along the floor.

No matter how afraid I am, I have to look at their faces, just to make sure it's not Clint or Natasha.

Stepping over another lifeless body, I squeeze my eyes shut and refocus myself.

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