On The Run

Breaking Out

Chapter 3: Breaking out

The straitjacket was digging into her back again. Wanda shifted her position slightly on the hard metal cot she was supposed to call a bed and tried to loosen it slightly-but of course, it wouldn't budge. She let out a breath in a soft huff, hoping that would ease the pain.

It was Day Four, by her count. Day Four, and they had still had no word on how long they would be here. Perhaps for another few hours, perhaps forever. No one would tell her anything. No one would let her talk between cells. She was trapped in her own little prison, stranded in her own little world-and she was completely alone.

Well, not alone exactly. Not when she could still wonder if Vision was even now trying to make another attempt to communicate with her.

Suddenly, a rustle of movement outside caught her eye-and as she watched disbelievingly, someone very familiar stepped out of the elevator and surveyed them all critically. "Well, aren't you all a sight for sore eyes," the man joked, the man who looked like Steve Rogers but couldn't possibly be him because Steve had been missing for days.

Everyone else in their cell block was on their feet, eyes sparkling with excitement but apprehension. Was anyone listening? Were they going to escape?

Steve strode over to Sam's cell first, slid a key card through a slot in the door, and then shook his hand as Sam walked out. "I didn't think you were coming back," Sam grinned as they moved on to Clint and then to Scott.

Steve grinned, "I'd never abandon my team. Can everyone stand? We only have seven minutes to get out of here before they realize what happened to us."

The door to her cell clicked open and Clint walked in, holding a knife Steve had tossed him, "Hold still. I'm going to do this as carefully as I can." Taking a seat next to her on the bed he cut through her straitjacket as quickly yet carefully as he possibly could, breathing a sigh of relief as it fell to the ground at their feet with a neat slice down the middle. "You okay, kid?"

She couldn't help grinning as she got to her feet, legs shaking for a few seconds from lack of use before she finally got them to cooperate, "Never better."

They joined the others outside, where Steve was leading them towards another door in the wall that Wanda hadn't seen before. He moved with confidence; obviously, he knew exactly what he was doing. "I'm guessing you have a plan," Sam asked. "And that's why this place isn't full of alarms yet?"

"Yup," Steve replied. "Everything's going to be taken care of-I'm going to get you out of here. And yes, there's someone on the inside scrambling the Raft's cameras right now so we can sneak out of here undetected."

"Who'd you hire?"

He just smiled as they headed up a steep metal staircase that angled up and up and up towards what Wanda could only assume was the top of the building where their getaway vehicle would hopefully be waiting. "Someone you know. Wanda, he wanted me to give you a message."

"What kind of message," she asked, as they trooped up the stairs and emerged onto the tarmac-where they headed towards a sleek black helicopter parked at the edge of the roof.

It was a stormy day; she almost didn't hear him over the pounding of the waves and the way the rain seemed to lash down at her almost horizontally-their last trial as they all piled into the helicopter and Steve got it airborne in a matter of seconds. "Maybe you can make more sense of it than I can. He said to tell you to remember the Sokovian Lullaby."

With that they gained altitude, letting the prison fade into the distance until it was just a tiny black dot in the middle of a slate grey sea.