The Eternal Avenger

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Not All of Us Are Getting Out of Here

(Claray's POV):

I sat in the old, dark blue, VW Bug outside of the Joint Counter Terrorist Center in Berlin doing my best to look inconspicuous, wondering how the hell we were going to fit a mind-controlled assassin, a super soldier and a bird man into this car if they all managed to escape. I watched anxiously as the traffic signals around me began to blink out. A few moments later, I heard screaming as people flooded out of the building. Something was going down, and without coms connected, I had no idea what it was. It killed me knowing that not only were Steve and Sam in there, potentially facing trouble, but that Natasha was in there as well. I smashed my hand onto the steering wheel out of frustration. I was so close, but unable to do anything to help anybody except monitor the front of the building for escaping allies. I looked up as Sam ran out of the building, grabbing something off of the ground before sprinting towards the car.

"Drive down to the water," he ordered, piling into the back seat. I grunted in affirmation before slamming my foot down on the gas, taking the corner roughly to the sound of screeching tires. I circled the building just in time to see a very wet Steve and an unconscious man with a metal arm. Steve got him into the backseat beside a disgruntled Sam and I gratefully turned over the driving to him.

"We're going to need a place to lay low," Steve murmured, glancing around at the chaos.

"Head out of town, I spotted an old factory that looks run down," I said. He nodded and started driving. Once we reached the abandoned warehouse and secured the metal-armed man, still unconscious, to the vice grip, I turned to the two men. "I want to have a word with him when he wakes up," I muttered gruffly. Sam just smiled at me.

"Payback is a bitch, isn't it?" He grinned, knowingly. Steve rolled his eyes.

"I need you to go grab Clint and Wanda," Steve turned to me, knowingly. I nodded, slinging my bag over my shoulder. I knew what this meant. We were gearing up for a fight and we needed allies. This is going to end well.

(Wanda's POV):

An explosion outside the compound deep in the woods knocked me out of my daydreaming. Vision left immediately to go see what was wrong. Thankfully my instincts were still on par enough to not send the knife blade through Clint's head, stopping just short of his nose. "Claray set up the diversion, lets go," he muttered to me, leaving traps around the room to try and slow down the android who was no-doubt going to attempt to stop us. I paused, torn between two different worlds. When Vision returned, however, recognizing that Clint couldn't overpower him, I pulled my magic together, a red, glowing orb around my fingers.

"Let him go. I'm leaving." It wasn't a question or a request. When Vision refused, I had little choice. Clint led me outside the compound to a waiting van. I grinned at the hybrid inside who was sitting at the steering wheel.

"Good to see you, Red," Claray smiled over her shoulder at me, her eyes glancing me over. "Are you going for an emo-cheerleader look?" She raised her eyebrows at me, noting my skirt and high boots, making me laugh despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Keep your eyes on the road, princess," I retorted. Claray smirked to herself, taking a final look at me before turning her attention to the road in front of us.

"We've got one more stop to make," she said. "Settle in, it's going to be a long ride." I settled into the backseat, laying over the row, trying to get some rest. If the underlying tension was any indication of what was to come, we would all need as much rest as we could get. After picking up Scott, we headed towards the jet, ready to go.

(Claray's POV):

When we arrived at Leipzig-Halle Airport the next afternoon, we were greeted by Steve, Sam and the now-conscious Winter Solder. I glared at him as we piled out of the van. He looked between me and Steve hesitantly. "I'm Bucky, it's nice to meet you," he said, extending his hand. I couldn't help the low growl forming in the back of my throat. I shook his hand, reluctantly.