The Brewing Storm

Battle of New York Part I

6.

I regroup with Steve, Natasha and Clint, and make our way through the mass of agents that were attempting to rebuild the jets Banner had destroyed during the attack. Stark is suiting up in his compartment, and leaving for New York as soon as he can, giving us the chance to evacuate the city whilst Loki is distracted. If Loki's Chitauri army is as bad as Thor says they are, then we'll need to get there before they arrive.

Where was Thor? Was he safe? Did he manage to escape the cell before it hit the ground? After Max informed me that it was actually Loki that dropped Thor out of the helicarrier, I've been more determined to stop Loki from hurting anyone else than I ever have before. Although I still struggle to understand why Loki has gone to all of this trouble simply to take over Earth, not when there are more powerful sources of life out there. Earth poses no threat to him, why would he risk the power of the Tesseract simply to destroy it?

I come to a swift half as we approach the pile of weapons some of the agents had moved from the labs, I gather my metal gloves, and pull my sword out of its scabbard a little, checking the blade is sharp enough.

"You don't strike me as a girl who uses a sword." Steve approaches me from behind. I snap my weapon back into place, allowing it to transform back into a small pocket knife.

"You don't strike me as an old man." I smirk, tucking the blade into my belt, and turn towards the others.  

"Ready to go?" Clint asks, shoving his remaining arrows into his quiver.

"I'm hurt." Steve pipes up, his mouth slightly agape, a gloved hand holding his chest. "Right there, like an arrow to the heart."

"Stop being so sentimental, Rogers." Natasha rolls her eyes, "We've got a city to save."

Still a little weary of Romanoff, I stand beside Clint, on the opposite side of the assassin. I keep my head down, my gaze avoiding all of the agents that were hard at work, attempting to amend the damage created during the attack. No one seems too fussed with a group Avengers running through a spaceship, but I suppose it's a sight they're familiar with.

As we approach one of the jets that looks near enough ready to fly, the young boy looks up twice, his second glance with complete astonishment. He stands up, holding his hands out in front of him, as if to try and stop us.

"You guys aren't authorized to-" He begins, but Steve cuts him off almost immediately.

"Son?" He warns, "just don't."

The boy stands up hesitantly, but doesn't move. And for a flash of a second, I feel bad for the kid, knowing that he's probably terrified of getting into trouble with Fury. "Whose authorization do you have?"

Clint looks towards me, as though he thought I had the answer, so I look towards Romanoff, but she stares up at Rogers. When it comes to words, the team are clearly not the best at improvising "They have mine." The trio and I spin around, and watch as Max speeds towards us, holding his authorization card in the air. "Director Fury has told me to grant them access to the jets." The young boy nods, throwing his cloth onto the floor, and moves out of our way before scurrying towards another jet. "And you guys are heading where, exactly?"

"Loki's army is coming." I answer quickly, "We need to get to New York before they do."

Max nods his head quickly, and hands each of us a small earpiece. Tossing his card towards Clint, Max sighs, "If you break this jet, Barton, I swear-"

"We won't break it, I'm an excellent pilot." Clint scoffs, brushing the comment aside and following Romanoff and Rogers inside. 

I turn to Max, and whisper, "Thank you."