DAYWALKER | n.romanoff

FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR
'YOU'RE THE ONES WHO'RE TRYING TO KILL ME ALL THE TIME.'

Slowly, the Blade walked down the ramp to step on the Helicarrier. Her arms were loose by her side, hands momentarily flexing beside the hilts of her daggers when she stepped into the open and the onslaught of wind her. There were armed guards, but no more than what seemed usual for a planet on the brink of war. A procession of them caught her gaze as they exited from the main building, machine guns at the ready.

She adjusted her stance, chin lifting even when Thor escorted Loki to meet them halfway, Rogers and Stark trailing behind. Even through her helmet and balaclava, the bitter wind managed to snap at her neck, but instead, the Blade almost leaned into it.

Romanoff appeared at her side, nodding to a small group of technicians who quickly boarded the Quinjet. The helmeted woman didn't acknowledge her. Instead, her gaze locked on Loki as the guards escorted him into the main building and then his cell.

I don't like this.

The Blade's eyes darted to a shadow which shifted under the ship's wing.

He looks too comfortable. Something's not right.

While she didn't voice it, the unease settled smoothly in her chest. She nodded once, but it played off as a twitch.

Another strong gust of wind shot past them, throwing Romanoff's red hair around her face. "Fury's gonna grill Loki. Wants us all to be there."

She followed after her. "He's not gonna give anything up."

"That's why we have to figure out his weak spots."

"Obviously," she paused. It was almost an undetectable hitch in her words as they entered the main building, and her eyes quickly flickered over the surroundings. There were many computers and operators and a few armed guards. They straightened almost perceptibly when she entered, and her gloved fingers flexed in response.

The shadows slithered around her feet.

They're going to shoot you or throw you into a cage like Loki.

They don't trust you. This is all a ploy.

They're all conspiring against you. Even-

"But he'll see through any attempt to manipulate him." The Blades continued, no other readable reaction as she walked beside Romanoff.

"I'm better than you think."

Slowly, the Blade turned her helmeted head to look at her, her grey eyes unreadable. "Of course, we could always do it my way."

"You think Thor wouldn't argue about his brother's torture?"

"You consult your victims' family members often?"

"Only if the family members look like that."

The two women approached a secluded table. Rogers was slumped in his seat, a far-off look in his gaze, and another man, his name producing itself faintly in the back of her head as Bruce Banner. He looked nervous and avoided looking in the Blade's direction. Thor stood off to the side, hand resting over his chin and a far-off look on his face.

Before she took her seat, the Blade looked over her surroundings again, her movements slow but confident. She relaxed into the chair, feet stretched out in front of her and arms resting on the supports. One side of her black coat fell open, revealing myriads of weapons strapped to her person.

Romanoff crossed her arms over her chest but remained standing.

Movement on the screen caught her eye, and the Blade moved her gaze to it.