Blood of the Covenant |1| The Dark Waters Series (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)

Chapter Seven: The Hub

In a damp, dark underground base, two Russian soldiers marched a captive down a hallway, a bag over their head. They dragged the captive into a room and shoved them into a chair, yanking the bag off their head.

Genevieve stretched her neck lazily. "Hey, boys." She was wearing an all-black combat uniform, her hair tied back, her hands cuffed behind her, but she still wore an easy smile. "I don't mean to alarm you, but I think you may have a mould problem." She jerked her head to the side, her eyes never leaving her captors' faces. "That sink with the standing water seems especially concerning."

One of the soldiers punched her in the face, splitting her lip. He turned to his compatriot, smirking, and spoke in Russian. "Just wait until the interrogator gets here. She won't be smiling then." The soldiers laughed viciously.

"Да?" As the soldiers turned to her, stunned, she continued in Russian, their eyes growing wider as they realised the extent of her fluency. "Well, if I'd've known the interrogator was coming, I'd've worn something more comfortable."

Just then, the door swung open again, admitting a tall, muscular man. The other soldiers, who had been about to threaten their captive, closed their mouths abruptly, adopting respectful positions to watch as he walked over to the tray of torture devices. He took his time, picking up each and every single one of them and inspecting it. Then he made his choice: a small, thin, three-edged blade. Genevieve knew it well, recognised the design that had been banned by the Geneva Convention for being too cruel, too lethal even for war. And now it was in the hands of her interrogator as he strode towards her, nothing but hatred in his eyes.

She met his gaze levelly, resisting the urge to jut out her chin defensively. Instead, she just raised an eyebrow. "You got the intel on you?" she asked quietly in English. The man stopped in his tracks, surprise evident in his narrowing eyes. "They know."

"They know?" he echoed.

A nod confirmed it. "We have three minutes, Agent Shaw."

As if on cue, May burst into the room with a loud yell, knocking out one of the soldiers with a well-placed kick. Genevieve's handcuffs sparked, unlocking thanks to one of Fitz's many devices, and she wasted no time in throwing herself past Shaw at the soldier who'd punched her earlier, taking him down. Shaw took another soldier down in a headlock and, as Ward entered the room to find the final assailant running at him, threw his triple-edged dagger deep into the man's heart.

Ward raised an eyebrow, but didn't allow himself to be distracted. "Time to go, Agents."

"Exit?" Genevieve asked, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. Blood smeared on her cheek, but she didn't seem to care.

May headed for the door. "Follow me." She led the way down the corridor, stepping over unconscious soldiers as if they were little more than speed bumps.

Genevieve's lips twitched. "I wondered what was taking you so long."

Without warning, May leapt up and grabbed a hatch in the ceiling. It opened downwards, dropping her to the floor as a rope ladder tumbled down after her. "Go."

Ward went up first, followed by Shaw, then Genevieve and May. Once out, they headed to a nearby sled. "Um, where are the dogs?" Shaw asked, making a face.

Genevieve scoffed, adjusting her ponytail. "Don't be ridiculous." A cable snapped taut attached to the sled, dragging them along the snow towards the Bus.

***

To the team on the Bus, FitzSimmons' lab was a place of safety, of healing, sometimes, and of excitement most other times. Agent Shaw, though, was looking around it like it was some kind of torture chamber, which was possibly a side effect of the vaguely threatening tool Simmons was wielding.