"Stevie your killing me here."
Glaring up at the super soldier who places boxes of files in my lap, a small smirk appearing on his lips.
Ultron had destroyed everything we had on Struker leaving technology useless, but we have our ways.
'Our ways' being tons and tons of files that we had to sort through just to find out what Ultron didn't want us to know.
"Stop complaining." Steve grins earning a file launched at his head which of course he caught one handed sending it right back my way.
[]
It had been two hours. TWO FREAKIN HOURS of searching through boxes and boxes of files and we had nothing so far, nothing.
"Baron Struker had a lot of friends." Steve murmurs clenching his jaw in fury at yet another box full of useless files.
"Well these people are all horrible." Banner groans tossing files detailed with Strukers friends to the floor in hopes of clearing some of the mess of the desk.
"Wait I know that guy." Tony frowns glancing at the man imprinted on the sheet of paper.
Bruce's eyes widen, quickly scrambling to hand Tony the photo.
"From back in the day. He operates off the African coast." Tony explains his eyes glued to the man in the picture.
Hoisting myself of the mini couch a little curious as to who they were talking about, I manoeuvre my way through the team to beside Tony glancing at the man myself.
"Black market arms." I sigh recognising the guy in the photo.
Everyone gaze turns to me and I shrug.
"How do you think HYDRA gets their shit?"
"He was talking about finding something new, a- a game changer." I continue squeezing my eyes closed as I attempt to remember the man.
This man. Klaw. Had been the one to give me my first sword. What kind of maniac gives a five year old girl a sword. It was made of vibranuim meaning it was indestructible, or was meant to be at least.
Upon leaving HYDRA I ditched the sword into the ocean, the sight of it made my head ache.
"This?" Thor asks pointing to a mark on the back of the mans neck.
A brand, the man had been branded and by the looks of the mark he had been branded as a thief. Although I couldn't recognise where the brand originated I know what a brand is, I mean how could I not when I had one of my own.
"Ah it's a tattoo." Tony shrugs.
"No those are tattoos, this is a brand." I interrupt explaining the difference between the two.
Bruce spins in his chair, rolling towards the computer making an effort to translate the mark.
"Oh yeah. It's a word in an African dialect meaning 'thief'." The scientist explains.
"I could've told you that." I mumble crossing my arms.
"What dialect?"
YOU ARE READING
Not your Fault
RomanceSkye Romanoff is a trained killer, an assassin. She doesn't love, that's for the weak. But what will happen when a certain green eyed witch walks into her life? ON HOLD.
