𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕔𝕒𝕥 | 𝟲 𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗚𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗

19 | Cat Fight

"One, come in, Four is down, Five is treating him," Blake said into her comms as she descended the stairs. There was no reply. "One? One, where are you? Can anyone hear me?"

"Receiving you," Seven replied. "Haven't seen or heard anyone in a while."

Blake bit her cheek as she peered around the door, checking for guards. "Nothing?" She asked quietly, and slightly dubiously. "Two? Three? Can you hear me?"

"They went quiet about ten minutes ago," Seven supplied. Out on the rooftop, he tracked Blake's movements through the building with his sniper sight.

"Okay. They're either dead or captured," she concluded. She tipped over a porcelain vase to make her presence known, but no one jumped out at her. "And I'm not sure which is better."

"What do you want to do?" He asked.

She squinted out of the window at the place she thought he was, making a face of disbelief and hoping he could see it. "You're asking my opinion?"

"Yeah. Is that a problem?"

She shook her head. This would make things simpler. "No, no problem. Can you see any guys from your vantage-point?"

"No."

"Alright. You come in the ground floor and work your way up, i'll work down to you." She turned from the window and headed for the stairs. "If you find anyone, tell me. Then we can go explore the basement."

"Alright," he agreed readily. "Watch your back."

"See you in a minute."

Blake took a cursory look into each floor as she made her way down, but she didn't bother engaging. Circe was in the basement, she knew; she just had to get there.

She nearly shot Seven when he came up the stairs, and after a brief moment where they had their guns levelled on each other's heads they lowered their weapons. Seven gave a sigh of relief.

"Seen anyone?" Blake asked.

"No." He held up a broken piece of black plastic. "But I found Two's comms."

She groaned and shook her head. "Shit. They've got them, then."

"Alive?"

"Hopefully." She gestured with the gun to the stairs. "Let's go."

There wasn't anyone on the lower floors, though the evidence that the team had left behind - in the form of strewn bodies - was everywhere.

Blake used her key card to open the lift to the basement and they stepped inside.

"Is Four okay?" Seven asked abruptly, interrupting the silence. "I heard on the comms."

Blake bit the inside of her cheek. "He's fine. He got a knife in the shoulder, but Five's hopefully got him out by now. I told her to use the maintenance lift on the other side of the building."

Seven bobbed his head thoughtfully, watching her expression turn terse. "That's good. He's better at sneaking about than gunning people down, anyways. This isn't his kind of thing."

She didn't get to answer. The lift doors slid open and a flash of white light proceeded two sparking wires shooting into Seven. He yelled and dropped to the floor as the barbs from the taser dug into his skin.

"Blake, what a nice surprise," the woman outside of the lift drawled. "Circe told me you might stop by."

Blake eyed Seven, who was howling and writhing, and cut the wires with her blade. Rogers had designed her gloves to be insulated, and she silently thanked god for it.

"Diana, always a pleasure," Blake replied curtly. She stepped out of the lift and glanced around the room; it was the monitoring room, where usually a small group of Circe's employees would digitally track targets and agents alike. Harmony had worked there before she was promoted to Blake's glorified babysitter (which Blake hadn't minded; they'd become good friends because of it). Blake had never seen the room before, but it closely resembled a normal office space, with desks and glass partitions. There were noticeable signs of a struggle, but curiously everything magnetic was dragged to the sides of the room.

Blake dragged her eyes back to Diana. "Where's Emilie?" She asked.

"In Mallorca, currently. Someone owed Circe," Diana shrugged. She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. "I won't need her to take you down. I'm stronger, bigger. And, I have a taser."

Blake resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Diana had always been jealous that Blake got the most high-profile jobs - honestly, Blake would have loved to palm them off, but she needed the money to pay the debt for her brother's medical bills.

Blake took another step forwards and Diana realised she hadn't yet reloaded the Taser with another cartridge. She blanched as Blake sprinted the five steps between them and launched her shoulder into Diana's chest, knocking her on her back. Blake struggled to pin the stronger woman down, though, and after kicking the taser away she bounced to her feet, not wanting Diana to roll them over and trap her.

Diana peeled herself off of the floor and coughed, having had the breath knocked out of her.

"Alright, bitch, you want to do this?" She growled.

Blake dodged the first punch, but she didn't see the leg that followed, sweeping her off her feet. She held her head in her hands as her back hit the ground squarely. Her eyes widened as Diana made to stamp on her belly and she rolled aside, using Diana's momentum to pull her down, making her body-slam a desk.

"You know what I'm here for," Blake snapped. "Lay off."

Diana winced as she stood. "No. You've done your job. She doesn't need you anymore. Or your stupid faggot brother!"

Blake bared her teeth and rushed her again, but this time Diana was ready. She stepped aside and shoved Blake into the glass partition. It shattered upon impact and Blake gasped as she was showered in glass, nicking cuts over the skin that wasn't covered by her suit - mostly her face.

Diana stalked forwards with a predatory grin. "Gotcha, kitty. Not so high-and-mighty now, huh?" She prodded Blake with her foot, her smile growing wider when Blake only groaned.

Meanwhile, Blake's thrown-out arm was hidden by the desk. She sorted through the glass shards with her fingertips, finding a large one and gripping it. Circe would have a field day if Blake managed to kill another agent under any circumstances, so she needed something she could stab Diana with other than her blade – something untraceable.

It was shockingly easy to trick Diana into thinking she was down for the count. The other woman was about to kick her in the side, monologuing about her victory, when Blake stabbed the shard into her thigh, right to the bone. The expression on her face was priceless. Blake watched as she hopped backwards, howling, and leaned against a nearby desk to assess the damage.

Blake got to her feet slowly, assessing damages. Her shoulder was pretty sore, and when she felt her cheek it came away sticky with blood from the gash just under her eye. It didn't matter. Circe would fix it: she always did.

"I wouldn't take that out unless you want to bleed out," Blake advised Diana, who was glaring at her spitefully. "Sit down and stay calm. And don't you ever insult my family again."

She left Diana to it, picking up the taser before heading back to the lift.

"Seven?" She crouched next to him. "Hey, how do you feel?"

He peeled open his eyes. "Like I just got electrocuted."

She quirked a smile. "Hurts like a bitch, right?"

She helped him to move out of the lift and sit against a desk, where he could watch over both Diana and the lift doors.

"Here's your rifle," she said, putting it in his lap. "And the taser. Shoot anyone who's not in uniform who walks through those doors, and make sure she doesn't move. Take it easy, okay?"

He gave a jerky two-fingered salute. "I've got it. Good luck."