Ms. Behave [The Winter Soldier Fanfiction]

9. Thank You

I always tend to put full commitment into everything I do, even if I don't want to, and even if that means sacrificing a weekend. It does irk me a little, but I have a point to prove.

Oh yeah; just so you know, I'm currently on another mission. We got some more super-enemies that the normal US black ops can't take care of, so SHIELD's strike team now has to do all of the dirty work.

Long story short, a couple of lowlifes are smuggling highly dangerous, life threatening, and extremely flammable narcotics into this country. And where else could they locate their uber secret hideout other than the outskirts of New York? I mean, what other city would let an illegal corporation get away with owning this much land and not get reported?

Lurking in the shadows of an abandoned building nearby, I look cautiously at the entrance of the series of doom filled crates. Due to the lack of lighting and the black tinted glass that cover the eye holes in my mask, I can't see all that well from a far distance. This reminds me of why I dislike being out during the night when it's dark, and the shadows are weird, and I can't see everything. It makes me nervous.

I could have been at home, sleeping.

Luckily, with me is Rumlow. I guess it has became a trend for us to shadow each other every once in awhile, for the environment seems ease when we're together. It's nothing romantic, I believe, but...

I have a mission to complete and my mind is wondering everywhere. Focus, I tell myself.

"How do we plan on finding the boss exactly?" I ask Rumlow.

"Trust me, we know where the boss is." He checks his gun. "Getting to him is going to be the hard part."

I squint at him, though not he's not able to see it. If all they had to do was dodge a bunch of bullets just to capture a 21st century downgrade of AI Capone, then why did they need me to come along?

I look once more at the guards that patrol the gates. From what I can see, they are heavily equipped with guns, grenades, and other gadgets. Plus on top of that, they're wearing SHIELD approved vests and protective clothing.

Oh goody.

"Here," Rumlow says, handing me some form of a GPS. It's black and greenish with little variations in color to show the elevations. It's of where are now, showing all of the buildings and colored dots to show the people. Shield agents are blue, enemies are green, and the big bad wolf is a blinking red. He's in the main building, which is dumb, but to be honest there are a huge amount of henchmen all around it. We just hit the jackpot...

And so the first platoon is sent out, silently and stealthy. I watch the GPS thing and see that the agents don't make direct contact with the foes, but try to take them out from a distance. Well that's smart. Go SHIELD.

The agents manage to clear a path which means it's time for the rest of us to intervene. I follow closely behind Rumlow as we snake around crates and avoid the attention of meandering pawns. We're close enough to the goal when I begin to hear gunshots headed our way. Rumlow does his thing, occasionally peeping his head out from our hiding area and blowing some shells at people. I decide to take that time to go on ahead, not bothering to stop for cover. The quicker I get this done the better.

The men guarding the door to the palace had gone to deal with the agents, so entering wasn't very difficult. I was almost surprised, since they make a process such as this so difficult in the movies. Anyway, once I enter my immediate reaction was to curse under my breath. There's no lighting in here whatsoever, telling me that it is about that time to get my mask upgraded.

Thanks to my sixth sense, my force field shows up randomly and reflects a series of bullets, scaring the shiitake mushrooms out of me. When whoever it is stops shooting, I quickly look over my shoulder. A silhouette of a man is all I can see, but his stature reveals his part in the group. "Are you the the leader?" I ask him, just to confirm my assumption.

He completely disregards my question and asks, "Yvette, is that you?"

WTF? "How do you know my name?" I inquire.

I hear a dark snicker. "Aw, you don't remember me..."

Stuck in a quizzical daze, I begin to inch towards him. Who is he? I want to know. That plan is ruined as I'm suddenly snapped out of it when I hear someone shout out my name, and then like that, I'm on the ground.

Someone had just saved me from being blown up.

I cough at the heavy smell of carbon soot and shrapnel leftovers as I lay on the ground feeling half dead. My mask is then removed from my face so I can breath easier. When I look up I see Rumlow over me, looking extremely distressed. He must have pushed me out of the way.

I wanted to tell him 'thank you', but the words wouldn't come out. I was to mad at myself for letting this happen. The enemy has probably escaped because of me.

🅰

I look down at my now cracked mask, that appears to have a lightning bolt that goes right through the right eye. On the upside of the matter, the enemy was captured, but on the down side, I still feel like crap. I no longer care about why that guy knew my name, I just feel terrible for putting lives on the line now.

No one exchanges words in this truck of silence. We all just sit side by side or across from one another not making a sound, making the air stink of awkward. Rumlow, who's seated next to me, grabs my hand. Knowing him so far, he knows exactly how I feel but doesn't know what to say, so holding my hand is his way of letting me know that he understands.

It's a little weird for the first few seconds, for I've known Rumlow to be a little hard core and offer no comfort, but then I decide to embrace it. Whatever little comfort I get goes a long way.

"Thank you," I finally manage to say.

🅰