29 /| errand girl

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twenty-nine

*•.*

GENEVA HAD MISSED WORKING UNDERCOVER, but she hadn't missed it that much because the worst feeling was having her cover blown. What made it even worse was the sleazy man who'd recognized her, pointing her out as an Avenger. Even in her wig, he'd been able to remember her, which meant her career as a spy was long over.

They'd pulled her from the room of the mock charity auction and they'd tied her hands behind a chair. It'd been a lousy effort. The room was far away from the actual event, and it was empty and windowless. She made note of the exits.

A group of men had appeared, flanking the first man who'd spotted her. There were five of them. The first one, with tanned skin and scarred cheeks, grabbed her chin in his rough hands.

Geneva smirked easily. "I let you tie me up and this is how I get treated? How about you tell me where Crossbones went off too. He and I have got some things to hash out."

The men laughed at her. "Did Captain America send you here? You his errand girl?" The man's teeth flashed. "The coward can't even fix his own loose ends." He held his two fingers out like a gun, placing them against her forehead. "I should shoot you and then him. Splatter his brains out on the concrete so that the world can see that he's just as human as the rest of us," the man barked.

The man was bold for thinking he'd ever get that far. Geneva clenched her teeth, her body tensing, playing the part.

They laughed at this too. "Does that make you angry?" The man smirked. "Good. Captain America is going to die soon, and I'd gladly finish the self-righteous bastard off myself, but it's above my pay grade."

"Look sweetie," another began. "We run a business here. Selling out one of our highest buyers won't go over well in this community."

"So you do know where he'll be next." It wasn't a question, she sat up straight, finally intrigued. "What's his next target?"

The blinked. "It doesn't concern you."

"So you know the answer to that too. And I wouldn't ask if it didn't concern me," Geneva chuckled. The man hit her face, and hot blood gathered in her mouth. She spit it onto the hardwood floor, but it wouldn't have been her first choice. "You've got a good left hook." She'd seen better though. "Are you afraid of Crossbones?"

"We ain't scared," someone said.

Geneva hummed. "Well then, what have you got to lose?"

"We already told you: clientele and money," a man said, he looked younger than the rest. George, one of them hissed. Geneva smiled at that. They would be losing a lot of money tonight. "Just shoot her already, Des. We've got to get back," George demanded of the first man.

The man, Des, suddenly had a gun in his hand, but it was pointed at George. "I don't take orders from you." He turned to Geneva, addressing her now. "But he's got a point."

Gen tapped her heeled foot on the ground. "I suppose he does." Geneva's hand shot out from behind the chair, easily slipping from its confines. She let the tip of her knife puncture Des's skin, and his hand released the gun and she caught it. The toxins would have him on the ground in a minute. The man writhed where he stood and she rose to her feet as the other men realized what was happening.

She hiked up the side of her dress and pulled Des toward herself. She pointed the stolen gun to the room, using his body as a shield. She shot the man nearest to her, a bullet hitting the hand holding his gun and the leg he seemed to be favoring. She pushed a limp Des onto another man, who dodged him. She slid underneath his outstretched arm, kicking his legs out from beneath him.

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