The Soldat, The Captain and The Asset

3.8: The Story

YAWA FIDGETED IN THE METAL SEAT, her hands jerking slightly. She pressed her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes at the bright lights above her. She breathes heavily, silently cursing herself for stupidity. Heals click against the tile ground, coming into the room that she is currently locked inside. She looks forward, watching as Secretary Ross, Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff all walk into the room. Ross has a grim look on his face, not liking coming down to have to talk to her for help.

He looks over at Yawa. "I don't suppose you have any idea where they are?" He asks her in reference to Bucky and Steve. "I mean...I was told you found Bucky the first time."

"I don't know." Yawa admits. "I mean... the training we have. We could hide anywhere. I honestly don't know." Ross looks at her in displeasure, gripping his hands tightly.

"We will." Tony tells him, and the secretary looks over at the billionaire, an eyebrow raised. "GSG-9's got the borders covered. Recon's flying 24/7. They'll get a hit. We'll handle it." He tries to reassure him.

"You don't get it, Stark." Ross argues, looking over at him with harsh eyes. "It's not yours to handle. It's clear you can't be objective." He shakes his head, his hand on his hip. "I'm putting Special Ops on this." He says it firmly, trying to show that there is no room for debate in this topic.

"What happens when the shooting starts?" Natasha asks him seriously. "What, do you kill Steve Rogers?"

"If we're provoked." Ross argues, not really caring about if he came out alive or not. "Barnes would've been eliminated in Romania if it wasn't for Rogers. There are dead people who would be alive now. Feel free to check my maths."

Yawa glares at Ross. "He wasn't even fighting back, he was letting take him." She reminds him. "I don't feel like it's our fault. Or Natasha's, or Rhodeys or Tony's. You should have vetted your so-called psychologist before he came in." She argues, leaning forward as much as she could.

"All due respect, you're not going to solve this with boys in bullets, Ross." Tony interrupts Yawa without a second thought, trying to de-escalate. "You gotta let us bring them in."

"How would that end any differently from the last time?" Ross asks him dryly, looking him right in the eyes.

"Because this time, I won't be wearing loafers and a silk shirt." He remarks, hinting that he'll be wearing his iron man suit instead. "72 hours, guaranteed."

Ross huffs. "36 hours." He compromises. "Barnes. Rogers. Wilson." He quickly walks away from the room.

"Thank you, sir." He says, the words hanging in the air as the secretary quickly leaves the fortified room. Tony's shoulders slump as he exhales, stressed. "My left arm is numb, is that normal?" He jokes.

Natasha reaches over and kindly pats him on the shoulder. "You alright?" She asks him, worried.

"Always." He lies, rubbing his head where there is a massive black eye and a cut along his brow, a few drops of wet blood still left on it. "36 hours, jeez."

"We're seriously understaffed." Natasha remarks. She glances over at Yawa. "Even with a super soldier."

"Oh, yeah. It'd be great if we had a Hulk right about now." Tony replies. "Any shot?"

"No. You really think he'd be on our side?" She wonders, already knowing the answer.

"No." Tony admits, looking down with a sigh.

"I have an idea." Natasha suddenly spoke up, and Tony looked over at her.

"Me too." He confesses. "Where's yours?"