Ghostwalker ▷ b. barnes [2]

xviii. hotheaded street performers

FURY WANTED HER ON A MISSION.

Not just her, but Steve, Natasha, and Clint. It was a SHIELD recon mission, one in pursuit of an acclaimed enhanced individual. He was known as Chan Ho Yin and was claimed to have fire powers, or something of the sort.

Sam was skeptical at first.

But the director didn't seem inclined to take no for an answer.

So when Steve agreed, she did too. They'd be working alongside the STRIKE team, one that Clint and Natasha had fought alongside before.

Following Steve out of the briefing and toward the quinjet, Sam could feel a pair of eyes burning into her back. She slowed and gazed around to see a dark-haired man watching her, an interested look in his eyes.

Rumlow.

She remembered Natasha's identification of the man.

He met her gaze with a small smile and she nodded back. But the look behind his eyes made her uncomfortable. The lack of emotion in his smile.

"Samantha?" Steve slowed. "Everything okay?"

"Just perfect."

She hurried to catch up and they boarded the quinjet with the others. It was bigger than most, accommodating to the entire STRIKE team and the four of them. Clint went to the front to help pilot and Natasha settled in one of the seats, sighing.

"Told you Fury'd have you on a mission, Clarence."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Did you see the death looks he was giving, though?

"Fury always gives off death looks."

"I think they were a little darker than usual."

"Definitely darker than usual."

She turned toward the new voice. It was the same man; Rumlow. He grinned and offered a hand, dark eyes gleaming.

"I'm Brock Rumlow, by the way. So what'd you do to piss him off?"

"S-Sam."

He arched a brow. She cursed herself internally.

"Might've been a little rude to the Worldwide Security Council."

"A little?" Natasha scoffed. "That's cute."

"They deserved it."

"Oh, hell yeah. But a little is a total underestimate."

Rumlow chuckled and she shook his hand, surprised at the number of calluses lining his palm. The man's dark eyes searched her own.

"You're the Phantom, right? Samantha Clarence."

"That's me."

He whistled. "I've heard the stories. Pretty damn impressive."

Sam shifted uncomfortably, but forced a grin. She shrugged, brushing past the man and moving over to Steve. "Not really."