The Trial of Bruce Banner

The Spy

Natasha clears the entrance to the facility in minutes and walks over the eight men lying on the ground.

Clint steps over the two whom she electrocuted while Alexei fumbles forward and falls into one of Natasha's unconscious victims.

Barton navigates the threesome beyond the entrance and through echoing empty hallways. The scrappy lights are flickering above them. They make their way toward the office intel has told them will belong to the cyborg Damon Dran when Clint steps back and shields his eyes with a groan.

"Shit! Shit."

Natasha does her inspection to sense the chemicals in the air. She grabs Barton's shoulder to guide him in a reformation, with Alexei taking the lead.

"Damon?" Natasha yells, tired of the games.

Two women drop from the ceiling in their all-black uniforms. Natasha once again takes the lead in clearing their path. Despite Alexei preparing to square up, she's beat him to it.

"Damon Dran!" Natasha announces fiercely.

She pants angrily, with her chest rising and falling rapidly. She rubs her wrists together and recharges her Widow's bite, reaching for a baton on her back.

Romanoff feels a foot hit the back of her knees and swings her feet around to knock her next attacker to the ground, pinning him there.

"Dran. Where is Dran?" her voice strains with gritted teeth as if she were prepared to torture the woman in her hold.

"Natasha," Alexei's voice calls her back from her rage.

Her eyes lift, and she follows the direction he points in.

She shoves her victim into the ground and heads for the containment. Within the transparent glass, she can see her ultimate target. He gloats in Russian, sending Clint's fist into the unbreakable glass.

Dran stands laughing, features cold and covered in metal scrap over his forehead and chin. He claps over Barton's failed attempt.

Natasha swallows and quickly regulates her emotions. Barton has already done what her heart wanted to do: pound the glass and strangle what's left of the man in the self-imprisoned cell.

"Come on out, Dran,' she nods calmly, 'Let's settle this."

"With you, Natasha?" He points, "Or your goon?"

With that, Alexei's fist takes a swing into the glass.

"Call off yours, and I'll call off mine," Natasha spats, aware of the woman behind them, ready to tackle Barton.

Dran snaps his fingers, seemingly to do as she asks.

"I am not goon," Alexei frowns.

Natasha secures her baton.

Damon calls softly to her and gestures to the floor with a disapproving tsk. Natasha reluctantly obeys his silent order and lays her baton in front of her.

Dran's head tilt suggests she drop her cuffs as well. Natasha grinds her molars.

Clint, frowning, sneakily heads for the control panel at the side of the containment.

"Do watch your Hawkeye, Natasha," Dran scolds.

"Clint," she addresses her friend softly, shaking her head no.

Barton angrily complies while Alexei grabs the woman behind them.

"Don't!" Dran's panic causes Natasha's head to whip.

"I will snap neck," Alexei spews.

"Alexei,' Natasha swallows her pride, 'Dad. Trust me."

Alexei reluctantly complies.