Chapter Two

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{Chapter Two}

Side note: Any feedback or advice you have is greatly appreciated and encouraged.

(Natasha Romanoff's Perspective)

Unclipping from our harnesses, Clint and I slipped out of our parachutes, laying them carefully underneath snow-covered branches that hung close to the ground. Briefly scanning the perimeter, I signal to Clint that there were no strange appearances.

The sound of his breathing was barely heard over the howling winds that swarmed around us.

Rotating angles, I scanned each direction warily. The wafts of ashen smoke drifting into the air, merely a quarter mile from where we were situated, stuck out like a red flag to a bull. Noticing my hesitation, Clint nudged my shoulder gently, snapping me into gear. We began trudging roughly through the knee-high piles of fallen snow, towards the smoke.

--
(Rose's Perspective)

Specks of light shone through the tiny holes in the planks of wood that wrap around the room. They were a golden colour, signalling to me that the sun was setting on another chilly winter day. My aching limbs carried me to my mattress that lay against the back wall, my heavy eyelids sinking as I struggle to remain awake.

I didn't want to sleep, but sleep was long overdue. After countless sleep-deprived nights, fatigue finally caught up with me, weighing me down. The recently received cut on my bottom lip throbbed painfully as I shuffled onto the mattress and lay down. Back resting on the stone cold mattress, I closed my eyes and let the sounds of my breathing and the thrum of my heart sing me to sleep.

--

It felt like only a few minutes later that I was awoken to loud banging and heavy-footed movements. The room was dark as I sat up from my bed, but the sounds echoed through the doorway. Quietly and cautiously, I crouch up from my bed and tip toe towards the door. Gripping the handle tightly, I hear the familiar click of its hinges as I squeeze through the doorframe.

Floating down the hallway, the wooden floorboard felt ice cold against my bare feet which were turning purple. Edging closer towards the scurrying noises, I held my breath in fear of being caught. My heart sped up as I reached the door, my hand trembling as it reaches for the handle.

CRASH!

The sudden deafening crash made me jerk my hand back and retreat back to my room with wide eyes and shallow breathes. Shutting the door as quietly as I possibly could, I leap onto my mattress and squeeze my eyes shut tightly. The bangs grew louder, and they continued on for several minutes until I heard a new sound.
The sound of someone twisting the handle to the room in which I am inside.

--
(Clint Barton's Perspective)

As we neared the sight of the billowing smoke, a few things became quite obvious. One: the smoke wasn't coming from any sort of fire. And two: it was coming from a small boarded house that appeared destroyed at worst and abandoned at best. Reaching the edge of the clearing, Natasha and I began preparing our weapons.

Counting the arrows in my quiver that slung over my shoulder, I adjusted the grip on my bow and turned to face Natasha, as she concealed her many knives and guns within her suit. Eyes meeting, I gave her a curt nod and we shifted our attention back towards the house.

"After you." She murmurs to me, but I have already begun creeping forward towards the front of the house. Checking the door handle, I found it unlocked, letting Natasha and I inside with ease. As we rounded the first corner, the sound of incoherent shouts began intensifying, keeping us on edge.
Guns raised, Natasha slips through the open door, into what appears to be a laboratory of some sort. Tools and wires are littered in every corner, but our eyes were directed to something much larger.

Sharpening my gaze, I crept forward towards the large object stationed in the centre of the room. As I observed intently, I whispered to Natasha who stood ready beside me.

"It looks like some sort of explosive device. Home-made no doubt."
Natasha curses under her breath and stalks forward, and then begins tracing the wires with her fingers.

"It's definitely a bomb. But the question is who would make such a thing out here?"
She turns to look at me, searching for answers. We stood in silence, pondering the question.

Both of us too deep in thought, we hadn't heard the shuffling of feet behind us. Snapping our heads suddenly to the sound of a loaded gun, I pull the string of my loaded bow towards my chin and release it into the burly man who had stood behind me. Falling to the ground immediately, the man was quickly replaced by another figure, a woman with an extraordinarily pointed face.

Before I could react, Natasha had launched herself onto the woman, throwing sequenced punches and blows towards the woman.

As the woman receives a final blow to the temple, I raise my next arrow and scan the room for more attackers, but when I turn to face the bomb once again, I find another man pressing its buttons and cocking a gun towards my chest.

As he pulls the trigger, I dive towards the ground and prepare to strike. Natasha shoots at him, but he manages the dodge it swiftly and he begins to sprint out another exit. Jumping to our feet instantly, we hurry towards the explosive and observe the readings.

1:57

"Nat, we've got to get out of here. Now." I warn her.

"We can't let him get away." She mutters as she begins racing towards the exit the unknown man earlier escaped from.
Over her shoulder she calls "we'll count to 60 then get out of here okay?"

"Let's go!" I yell and launch out the other door, checking for any signs of the man. After checking several rooms, I find no traces of the man. Almost ready to give up and get out, I reach the last room in the hallway. Jiggling the handle, I find its unlocked. As it swings open I come face to face with not the man I had intended.

But a small girl, who stared wide-eyed and frozen from across the room. I freeze where I am.

The little girl looks at me fearfully and timidly pleads, her body cradled against her chest as she sits curled up into the corner.

"Please don't hurt me."

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