Who Am I? » [Stucky]

182. Outwards

Carol’s squad picked apart the pad that granted them access to the next cavernous segment. With a sizzle, crackle and a scrape, sparks soared from the electric circuit and the door drew back like a stage curtain. What was revealed was a wreckage of a room: smashed glass matting the floor, fluids sloshed about onto surfaces and files flung in a hurry.

On a higher platform that surveyed the laboratory space – which had been abandoned as the alarms sounded – was a team full of elite Hydra agents, one armed with a bazooka. As his attention was gleaned by the second emerging wave of SHIELD operatives, he sent another tubular grenade hurtling towards her team.

“Clear it!” Drew yelled; hearing the whoosh and seeing the misty tendrils of spoke appear. The room scattered and people crammed themselves out of range. The blast hit the doorway, flames licking around the rim of the metal border between rooms. Smoke formed a barrage, choking many unsuspecting agents in the room.

Jess hobbled from the corner and surreptitiously peeked around the door frame. “There’s no way to get him,” she growled, seeing how his team mates had already reloaded his super-weapon.

As she was noticed, the fleet that flanked his loosed a torrent of bullets that narrowly missed her.

“Jessie! Have some sense of self preservation,” Carol contemptuously hissed, dragging her out of view.

The Captain’s ears perked up. “Danvers?!”

“That’s Major to you, Captain!” Carol shouted back, reloading her pistol with a fresh round.

“Think you can cause me a distraction?” He asked, Bucky’s arm thrown around his shoulders, his other half making mewling sounds of agony into his shoulder.

“You’ve got ten seconds cap!” She shouted back. “Everyone, move back!” Carol ordered, flapping her arms like a crow and squawking to scare them off. She rushed into the doorway and clicked the trigger, taking out two of the Hydra agents in the split second before the man behind the RPG fired.

She sprinted out the way, ducking to safety. Steve frisbee’d his shield at the reloading Hydra agent, fumbling with the oversized shooter perched on his shoulder. The shield made harsh contact with the man’s face. From his sweaty grasp, the shooter fell over the balcony and cracked.

“Charge!” Steve bellowed, rushing in to capture his rebounding disc of freedom.

The entire troupe that had managed to survive the horrendous gunfights that far rushed into the room. Outgunned, the Hydra agents dropped like dead birds, flipping over the banister on the raised platform. A new squadron emerged from side doors in the laboratory, flooding in from either side and running head on into gunfire.

A couple gas canisters were hurled, bringing up a curtain of smoke, two obstructing clouds that vanished the enemy. Bullets were sprayed through in the hope of hitting moving targets unseen. By chance, some were shot down, their howls drowned out the by sound of shelling and obliteration.

Many agents dived to the floor, ducking down behind lab benches and bookcases; out of view and shooting around the corner. The asphyxiating substance seeped into the nostrils of agents, making their eyes water and filling their lungs. Men peeped around corners and emptied their bullet packs.

Bucky and Steve were squatted low, their conquest unseen as they crept through the mist that blinding both sides. A dismembered hand protruded from the smoke, pulling the pin from a grenade.

“I don’t think so, son...” Bucky snarked, pinching it from the gloved grasp and tossing it back where it belonged. He yanked the anonymous Hydra agent by the wrist and pulled them forwards onto his sharpened silver blade: burying it in the abdomen and twisting it like a screwdriver, before ripping it sideways to tear the vital organs. He kicked them back off again, un-brochette-ing their masked menace, leaving the blade dripping ruby, the mirror-like surface coated with a gloopy layer.