Uncle Buck floored the gas pedal, and the car's engine roared louder, the vibrations rumbling through the seats as we sped toward the GRC headquarters in New York. "Get the heck out of the way!" he yelled, honking aggressively at the cars around us, weaving through traffic as we made our way. The situation was beyond tense.
The Flag Smashers, led by Karli Morgenthau, had taken the GRC leaders hostage, using their demands to push an agenda that was spiraling into something dangerous.
Negotiation seemed out of reach now—this was a drastic move on their part, and Uncle Buck and I were racing there by road to try and get these people to safety before things got worse.
Somewhere above us, I imagined Uncle Sam soaring through the sky with his new wings. He'd probably reach the headquarters first, with that high-tech suit ready for action.
As we neared the scene, I could hear the blaring alarms and sirens, and flashing lights filled the streets. The building was surrounded by police and soldiers, all waiting for orders, holding a tense perimeter around the area.
When Uncle Buck and I tried to approach, an officer stopped us, his expression rigid. "Sorry, but the Flag Smashers have made it clear—no one's allowed inside. They'll bring the GRC members out themselves."
I shot a glance at Uncle Buck. "That's a trap," I muttered, my gut twisting with unease. I knew Karli and her group wouldn't just hand the officials over—they were likely planning to relocate them somewhere secret, somewhere we wouldn't be able to reach. Uncle Buck's jaw tightened; he looked ready to bolt past the officers himself.
Suddenly, the loud rumble of a motorbike sounded over the noise, and I turned to see a sleek sports bike screech to a halt a few meters from us. A woman climbed off, her face obscured by a helmet, and walked briskly in our direction. She glanced at me before addressing Uncle Buck.
"Be ready," she said, her voice low and commanding. "We need to make a move before they disappear with the hostages."
Uncle Buck and I exchanged wary looks. She was unknown to me, a stranger stepping in during a chaotic moment. But before I could question anything, the woman raised her hand and pressed something on the back of her head.
Her face shimmered, a quick flash of light, and suddenly her appearance changed, as if by magic. A new face emerged, familiar yet unexpected—Agent Sharon Carter.
My brows knitted together, still processing the disguise. "You use these masks too?" I asked, surprised. Of course, she'd worked for S.H.I.E.L.D., so a trick like this shouldn't surprise me.
She didn't respond, keeping her attention on the building. Any answer was cut off as a huge commotion stirred above us. Looking up, I spotted Uncle Sam, now sporting his new red, blue, and white suit.
He flew over our heads, aiming for the upper floors, his wings catching the flashlights and glinting like a flag in flight. It was a breathtaking sight, watching him power forward, almost like watching Captain America himself take the lead.
Down here, though, we had to make our own moves. Two large vans burst out from the front of the building, their engines roaring as they tore through the surrounding crowd.
The police officers were already moving, frantically directing people to clear a path. Sharon tossed a set of keys toward Uncle Buck, who caught them in mid-air with a nod of thanks.
"There are two vans," Sharon said, her voice steady. "You each follow one. I'll keep things steady here."
Uncle Buck looked at me, his gaze unwavering as he handed me the keys to the motorbike Sharon had arrived on. "Take the bike and go after one of those vans. I'll take the car and get the other one."
YOU ARE READING
UNKNOWN GUEST
Fanfiction"You don't know me. Yet." He paused, " Maybe in future?" Alarmed, she asked," What do you mean?" Everybody has some fantasies from something they see or interact with. And with the experience of being a big Marvel fan, and a huge shipper of Captai...
