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" Anyways, you in? "

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" Anyways, you in? "

"I don't suppose you have any idea where they are?" Secretary Ross eyes Rowan warily, his dark eyes fixated on the girl's clear complexion.

"Actually, I don't." She lies, her thick brows raised challengingly. She knew exactly where Steve, Sam and Bucky were but since she was sworn to secrecy, she would tell a soul; not even Natasha or her father.

Steve and Sam were holding Bucky captive in a warehouse back in Berlin. There were people searching for Barnes, out for blood, and Steve said having Rowan along for the interrogation would attract too much attention. So, for the better good, Rowan decided to go back home with her father and Natasha to relieve some tension from the already-stressed Steve; but not before he got her to promise him she wouldn't tell anyone they're there.

"We will. GSG-9's got the borders covered. Recon's flying 24/7. They'll get a hit. We'll handle it." Tony reassures, drawing the attention away from his daughter.

"You don't get it, Stark. It's not yours to handle. It's clear you can't be objective. I'm putting Special Ops on this." Fumes Ross.

"What happens when the shooting starts? What, do you kill Steve Rogers?" Natasha cocks a brow.

"If we're provoked." Starts the Secretary, "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 math."

"All due respect, you're not going to solve this with boys in bullets, Ross. You gotta let us bring them in." Tony tries to reason.

"How would that end any differently from the last time?"

"Because this time, I won't be wearing loafers and a silk shirt. 72 hours, guaranteed." Tony replies with a small smirk.

"36 hours. Barnes. Rogers. Wilson. Even if it means using your little brat to reel em' in." Ross narrows his eyes on the teenager who remained quiet, her face set stone throughout this entire dispute.

"Thank you, sir." Tony rubs his hand on his chest and slumps, exhaling, "My left arm is numb, is that normal?"

Natasha pats him on the shoulder, "You alright?"

"Always." He has a massive black eye and a cut on his brow, "36 hours, jeez."

"We're seriously understaffed." The red-head grumbles.

"Oh, yeah. It'd be great if we had a Hulk right about now. Any shot?" Tony looks up at the woman expectantly.

"No. You really think he'd be on our side?" Nat queries.

"No."

"I have an idea."

"Me too. Where's yours?"

"Downstairs. Where's yours?"

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