Shockwave: Avenger N.o 7

8: Good Old British Comedy

As escapes go I thought I was doing alright having just run down my seventh corridor undisturbed. I mean, yes I had no idea where I was going, but at least no alarms had gone off.

I round a corner. And quite literally skid to a halt, arms whirling forwards like a windmill the sides of my soles scraping across the lino. Halfway down the corridor jog a group of men clad in black leather each with a silver eagle depicted on the chest and all of them armed. At the sight of me they, too, halt and draw their guns, the agents towards the front kneeling so the others have a clear shot. All this is done with military speed.

"Ah.", I say nervously, my hands forming loose fists in front of me with my right index finger extended then putting them down again in a gesture of awkwardness. It suddenly occurs to me that there didn't need to be an external alarm for agents to be informed of my escape. If it weren't for the situation I would have smacked my forehead or possibly be banging it against a wall.

Deciding I'd better make myself scarce I pivot one hundred and eighty degrees and run full pelt down back down the corridor. I don't look back, but I can hear the pounding of heavy boots all the same.

There's no way I can outrun them, leaving me one option. Hide.

Hearing that I have a bit of a lead I formulate a plan and put on a burst of speed. Keeping to the wall I turn the corner as fast as I can and explode into the nearest room.

The room is simple but roomy housing just a coffee table, two sofas, and armchair and three people; two men and another that causes my heart to nearly stop in shock and anger to bubble up inside me.

"Wrong room.", I splutter and dash back into the corridor. Such is my hurry I trip over my own feet, but the most that happens is that I stroke the floor with my fingertips and launch myself back up. I've lost some ground and the agents now know my trick, but surely they wouldn't expect me to try the same trick twice. Two more corridors and I'll try again.

Avengers P.O.V

As soon as the door shuts Natasha Romanoff shoots up off the sofa and stands stock still, eyes fixated upon the door. The speed at which she stood causes a a few wisps of curly red hair to drift in front of her face, but she barely notices.

"She looked like she was in a hurry.", remarks Stark lounging on the settee, one arm draped over its side looking completely unperturbed. Were this comment to have come from somebody else you'd assume they had not quite grasped the situation. But billionaire Anthony Stark had grasped the situation quite nicely and as per usual was using it to tease his companions.

The sound of several pairs of heavy boots reverberates around the room and for a moment it appears that the very glass in the door shakes some what. "Well,", declares the third person, a tall blond man seated in the armchair regarding Natasha with slight concern, "At least we know why she was in such a hurry.". Steve Rogers had the role of leader of the Avengers Initiative, a team all three Americans belonged to.

Natasha, who was completely oblivious to the two men's comments and one's concern, muttered something which was completely inaudible to Steve but which caused Stark to actually look at her and although his position didn't change he seemed to tense a bit. His interest was peeked.

"What's impossible?", he questions.

"That girl.", murmurs Natasha in reply. Not looking at the others she approaches the door and pushes it ajar to look down the corridor.

"Let's go help.", enthuses Stark jumping off the sofa with unpredicted energy.

"The girl or the agents?", queries Rogers getting up with slightly less enthusiasm.

"I don't know.", replies the now matter-of-fact Stark.

Steve looks incredulous and says slowly, "You don't know?".

"More fun that way. And why haven't you told us to shut up yet.", asks Stark spinning round to face where Natasha should have been."Unbelievable.".

The two poke their heads around the doorframe one on top of the other to see Nat streaking down the corridor, overtaking the agents, in hot pursuit of the fleeing figure.

"Now we should go.", says Steve.

"Yeah, so long as the Benny Hill theme doesn't start playing.", mutters Stark.

They run after her.

Mysterious Figure's P.O.V

This is turning into quite an eventful evening. The arbijuary's massive fist smashes into the nearest neon flashing sign causing a veritable waterfall of sparks to rain down on to the screaming civilians and gamblers. It gives a blood-chilling roar and with ease picks up two Alpha Romeos, stacking them upon each other, and lifts them high above it's head. It then hurls them 20 feet through the air and they land with a crunch, sparks flying, tumbling over a few times before drawing to a halt, windows nonexistent roofs and bonnets caving in upon themselves.

People run and scream, much like they did on North Tesen Street except this time many of them fall to the ground eyes glazed unable to comprehend the events because of the alcohol running through their system.

Las Vegas.

What a pitiful excuse for a city. Despite the glamour and grandeur they insist on wrapping it in.

The arbijuary stomps through into the nearest casino seemingly unbothered by the brick wall it has to walk through in order to do so. The sounds of more screaming, roars and general destruction drifts out of the casino, music to my ears but which cause massive amounts of hysteria and panic in the fleeing humans. They run to their cars as if they hope to outrun the arbijuary. Such ignorance.

Freya's P.O.V

I hear a different set of footsteps, unlike those of the heavy booted agents these sound lighter...quicker. Oh 'eck. The other footsteps seem to zone out, whether that's because I'm focusing on the new ones or because they are slowing down I really don't know. But then it hits me.

It's her.

The previous rage that I had felt for her in that room, the rage I had partly been running away from, returns. Why can't the lot of them just bugger of?

Then I do something that is really against my better judgement. I turn around ( and yes it's her ) and scream at her, much like I did to the intercom man. I scream at her to 'leave my alone for goodness sake'.

She screeches to a halt, clamping both hands to her right ear, her face slightly contorted into an expression of pain. Ear piece I'm guessing. But there's no time to find out. Once again I hurtle down the corridor, slowly growing sick and tired of how identical they ar-

WHAM!

My whole world becomes horizontal, a mismatch of blurred coloured smudges. Someone has grabbed my waist and we both careen into the door my shoulder making contact with a loud bang causing a quick stab of pain to shoot into it. The door gives way and we both topple into the room.

Hellooo again, hope you liked this update. Freya's apparently starting to devolp some powers love to hear what you make of that and urh thanks for reading. Byee.