Captive - Loki Fanfiction

Chapter 4

S.H.I.E.L.D's British base was a large, drab concrete building with several wings and a helipad on each roof, concealed behind an industrial zone area and surrounded by fifteen-metre cast-iron gates. It was located in the outskirts of Oxford, in a suburban area called Osney, about fifteen minutes away from Leeds by aircraft.

The helicopter swiftly dropped onto the helipad, causing my stomach to turn. My grip on the armrests tightened and sweat formed on the webs between my fingers.

Beside me, several soldiers conversed in their muffled voices as they waited for the cabin doors to open. They had tethered me to a black polyester strap that fastened under my armpits, over my shoulders and on the small of my back, buckling me tightly to the bench I was sitting on.

I winced as the helicopter gave a sharp jolt and my heel knocked against the bench.

My cuts still stung from the strong disinfectant they had used on all my injuries from the chase and my self-mutilation by ripping out the medical tubes. The small medical staff that had worked on me for most of the journey, carefully manoeuvring the shards of glass out of my skin and disinfecting the wounds on my entire body, particularly my head and legs where the glass had cut the deepest. I had just sat there; drained of all energy and my limbs lank, simply letting them.

From what I had deducted from the past few hours, S.H.I.E.L.D was some kind of counter-terrorism and intelligence agency that dealt with atypical national disasters and criminals. I had heard of them once before, in 2012, when there had been an incident of some sort in New York. I hadn't known anything about them at the time, just that they had been involved in some way. But yet here I was, a dangerous captive in their hands.

Finally, the doors opened and the deafening reverberation of the helicopter's rotors filled the small space. The soldiers piled out onto the helipad and the two guards seated beside me, got up and unbuckled me from the seat. I hastily rubbed the areas where the strap had dug in and restored the blood circulation before they grabbed my wrists and dragged me out of the helicopter into the tumultuous night.

The cold air hit me sharply in the face. The wind was violent and tore at my hair with its icy fingers. Above me the sky was completely black and cold lustreless stars were slowly appearing, pinpricks of stillness against the eternal darkness. Shivering violently, I looked out onto the large profusion of buildings around me, faint yellow lights blinking erratically in the distance.

The black man with the eye patch appeared beside me, his face lit up with lengthening shadows that gave him an eerie, morbid look.

"Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D, Miss Credor," he shouted over the roar of the helicopter's main rotor. "This is where you'll be staying for the time being."

He glanced at the two soldiers who were holding me.

"Take her to Hall 23Z. I'll be in my office with Commander Hill."

Although his words weren't particularly malevolent, they sounded threatening and almost domineering to me and I shivered as the soldiers grabbed my arm and hoisted me forward. I kept sending out the extrasensory waves in a desperate attempt to try and escape but yet again I could not reach anybody's mind; I was barred immediately.

I felt humiliated and pathetic, robbed of all my strength. I had found myself a quivering wreck with no defence and completely helpless in the hands of powerful mercenaries. They probably saw me as a complete laughing stock: I was assumed to be a fierce power-wielding aggressor but yet there I was, a small child, tied up like a dog, cowering in the hands of these powerful figures. The mere thought was entirely demeaning.

They took me across the helipad, to a small outlet in the heavy concrete floor with a long brightly lit stairwell leading down into the building. I stumbled down unceremoniously, completely wringed of all energy. I kept slipping and the guards had to keep catching me and haul me back to my feet before I fell.