Never Gonna Stop Me (Resilience Book 1) (Avengers Fan-fic) [COMPLETED]

Chapter 1

 Sam                 

‘I’ll never tell you anything.’ I spat through gritted teeth. My cheek stung and my head whipped to the side. I let my head hang over my shoulder as I breathed deeply. Stay strong. I told myself. They’ll be here soon. Blood was flowing from the bullet hole in my shoulder, and dripping from the stab wound in my side. I turned my head to glare up at my captors, only to be backhanded across the cheek.

I licked my lips and tasted blood. I craned my neck and got a quick glance at my watch. It had now been almost eight hours since the operation went spiralling downhill. They’d have given me an hour of good confidence. Then it takes one hour to put together an extraction team and get them to the site. Another hour’s surveillance before extraction, which takes ten minutes to an hour. Extraction hadn’t started, and they were almost three hours late.

Realisation hit me like a brick wall, flinging my head back. Or maybe I had just been hit again. Either way; They weren’t coming. I was on my own.

I breathed out slowly, bringing my head back to its normal position. I glared at my captors for a few seconds before I sighed, letting my head fall forward.

‘Fine.’ I whispered, watching through a veil of my hair as they came closer. ‘I’ll tell you everything I know.’ I whispered, my voice cracking. The two men edged closer again and I made my move.

I kicked upwards, between the legs of the nearest of the two men, causing him to groan and bend over. Not hesitating, I brought my knee to his face, resulting in a sickening crunch as his nose broke. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious, just as his partner came to his senses.

I stood, taking the chair with me. Without pausing to let him think, I jumped, turning and hitting his head with the flimsy wooden chair, which shattered into a hundred pieces. Pain ripped through my hurt shoulder, and I looked to see a second bullet hole beside the first.

I freed my hands from the now torn ropes, and searched them both for phones, only finding a couple of dollars and a set of car keys. Leaving the unconscious men as they were, I grabbed the keys and ran outside, thankfully not meeting any other hostiles on the way.

A black jeep sat alone outside. I quickly opened it and climbed in, shutting the door only to double over in pain as it shot through the gash in my side. I breathed deeply, getting myself under control and turned on the car, before racing away from the dingy loading bag of the abandoned warehouse.

I turned on the sat-nav and punched in the co-ordinates for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Headquarters in New York, the people who had taken me away from my behaviour analysis job at the CIA, for this very joy, promising me that I’d be protected.

I had foolishly believed them.

Due to my precarious driving, I reached S.H.I.E.L.D within an hour, just as my eyesight was intermittently beginning to cut out. I pulled into the first space I saw and cut the engine. Leaving the keys there, in the ignition, I crawled out of the car and painfully stumbled over to the main door. I stumbled inside and the bright interior lights filled my vision with white. Someone called my name as my knees gave way, and the world turned to black.

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I sat up, bolt upright in my bed, gasping for air. I looked around my dark bedroom, eyes wide, as the cloud of fear which surrounded me gradually dissipated, leaving me still slightly short of breath and very uneasy.

I chastised myself for being s scared by a nightmare and took my gun from under my pillow, placing it on the bedside table. I turned and looked out my window to see the early morning sun painting the polluted New York skyline a salmon-pink.