RUN.

02: GRIME

I recommend listening to 212 by Azealia Banks for the feel of this chapter!

(Words in bold = Russian)
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I put on my black leather jacket - although, mine wasn't really something I could say. I stole it. And the sunglasses on top of my head? Same. I wasn't fond of thievery, but I had an excuse. There were Russian spies after me. What more could I say?

As I was walking, I made sure of how I moved. I wanted to blend in to the crowd. Standing out might get me killed. If I moved too fast? They might shoot. Too slow? They might catch up to me.

Just as I had suspected, a man in dark attire glanced my way, talking into his phone later. Oh, they're fast. I literally just blew up their building two hours ago and they were already onto me.

Now, you could say I'm paranoid, but in this case, I knew that the man wasn't a normal civilian. You're never just paranoid with Hydra. They were never keen on traitors.

The man turned his body so that his back was to me. I scoffed — as if that would make him invisible. 

I slipped the shades on, shoving my hands into my pockets. I wanted them to get to me, I wanted them to try. Let them.

As I turned a corner down to an alleyway, the same man I had eyed before appeared right behind me. I looked over my shoulder subtly, and sure enough, his weapon was at the ready.

"Lisa." He snarled, we were close enough to hear each other. "Good to see you."

I gave him a sickly sweet smile, one too wide to be friendly. "Oh, hello."

At the corner of my eye I could see one of his goons trying to sneak up to me, his gun visibly pointed to my back.

"Save your breath, bitch."

My grin dropped immediately, and I rolled my eyes like a child would. I made sure the one in front of me took notice, I wanted to annoy him. Haven't they learned their lesson?

As quick as I could manage, I turned around to land a kick on the one who planned to shoot me. He groaned and fell on his back his head hitting the ground a little too hard. His gun slid to the far side of the alley. I allowed myself to chuckle out of pure spite.

The other one let out a grunt as he ran towards me. I ducked when he attempted to throw a punch, jumping back up just in time to hit him in the throat in a chopping motion. I hit him harder in the gut with my fist. He came back at me with a growl, pouncing on me. I was trapped in his arms for a moment, his foul breath blowing at the nape of my neck. I got out of his grip and turned hit his nose with the heel of my hand. Head butting him after. Blood oozed out of his nostrils and he held it in pain. When I feared that wasn't enough, I threw a leg up and pushed him so he fell to his back.

That left him distracted, but the man I thought I left unconscious suddenly tackled me from behind. I trashed around like a fish, struggling to get out of his grip. I was in the same situation as I was before, but the moves I pulled on his friend wasn't working on this one. I was choking, gasping for air.

When I realised he had a stronger grip than me, I came to the conclusion that trashing around wasn't going to work. So, I turned around, hooked my right leg onto his shoulder and propped myself up so I was sitting with my thighs around his neck. I crushed my thighs tightly together—he would be the one choking now.

I hit his head with my elbow repeatedly until he ran out of air eventually. I felt his body go limp under me and I waited until his eyes rolled to back of his head before I jumped off of him, landing next to the gun that had slid before. That was fortunate.

I grabbed the gun, adjusting my grip to it.

The previous one with the bleeding nose was trying to get up, and I'd be lying if I said he didn't look scary with blood smeared all over his face, a sarcastic grin stretched wide on it.

I cocked the gun, aiming it directly at his head. He wasn't unconscious, but he was obviously in no shape to fight.

"You little girl, " he spat. "You're nothing. You're not as tough as you think."

That was the the most incredible thing I've heard. "Little girl? Not as tough?"

"Well, this little girl just killed approximately 103 of your friends and now," I turned, gesturing to his unconscious partner. "104."

"You're stupid enough to kill them without a good reason. Hydra will never let you off the hook for this." He seethed.

I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of his words. "Without a good reason? Oh, so Hydra has morals now or are you just weepy because your friends got to go to hell and you didn't?" I mocked a pout.

He didn't respond. He just laid there laughed like we were a part of a sitcom.

"Besides, I had a good reason." I placed the end of the gun on his temple. "He called me a bitch. Just like you did."

The shot echoed throughout the alleyway, the sound bouncing off the narrow walls. I wiped the blood—I didn't even know whose, I seemed to have a lot of problems with that —off of my face.

I was covered in grime, and blood that wasn't even a hundred percent mine. I needed to leave this place, and I needed a new name. Fast.

———

With another stolen jacket, I walked up to the first car I saw, breaking the glass with the back of the gun that was also stolen.

I reached in to open the door, ignoring the loud alarms blaring from the car. Just as I managed to successfully hot-wire it, a guy in a button down t-shirt came running out of a shop, his face contorted in anger.

"Hey! Stop!" he yelled, running.

I smirked, giving him a little wave from the rearview mirror. Then I hit the gas pedal.