The Captain's Daughter - The First Child Avenger

~ Chapter 21 ~

~Behold: part 21! The image is not my art and I couldn't find the artist so umm, credit to whoever made it because it looks awesome!!~

Brooke's p.o.v

Peter has been introducing me to a lot of popular culture. Part of my education has been on Disney and their princesses. Right now, I feel like Cinderella - running away from a perfect night. Except she left a shoe her prince ended up finding her.

I have left everything in my room. Only wearing my old Hydra combat outfit and carrying my essential weapons.

The roaring sound of the motorbike engine is filling my ears as I speed away from the compound. But I don't mind, I'm almost at the airport.

Hijacking a plane will be a piece of cake I've had practise...

*Flashback to when Brooke is 13*

This was just a test, like everything else I've done in my life. They wanted to be sure I could sneak onto a plane and be the only one who survived the descent. Hydra hadn't had many assassins at this point and they were thirsty for them - especially ones who could hijack transportation.

"So I'm going to enter through the top, the steel isn't too strong there," I explain while pointing at a blueprint of the SHIELD plane.

"I'll clean out the area then take the vent down to where the pilot is," I explain.

"And if anything goes wrong just remember to click this button," Harvey says, holding up a small, rounded black box with a red button.

"Yes I know, father," I joke, "but nothing will go wrong."

I leap out of a small doorway in the rickety plane and lock my knife into the metal of the soon-to-be Hydra plane. The screech reminds me of how McCaucan would run his nails down a chalkboard - only this sounded worse.

The knife eventually halted in the metal and prevented me from falling the thousands of feet into the ocean. I'm so glad Harvey made me wear a helmet or else my hair would be flying everywhere.

I scale the side of the plane and slither like a snake to the roof. From there, I jab my knife into the plane and slice it open.

I grab the cut metal from the roof and throw it into the sky. I put my knife in my pocket and land with a thud into the plane, unfortunately, SHIELD agents are surrounding me.

"Hello, ladies," I grin and start kicking them in shins.

The ones who got back up had their jaw punched into their brain. They were all unconscious in a matter of seconds.

I creep down the corridor to where the pilot is and listen in on the conversation.

"Mr Stark, there is still nothing. No trace of Captain Rogers or the plane, I must be coming back."

Where have I heard that name, Stark, before? The radio screeches a response.

"Okay but come back through the north of Canada, he might have crashed there."

"Copy that."

Hah, no sweetie, I have other plans for this plane.

I use my knife to unlock the secure, metal door, a tap on it. The door creaks obnoxiously loud. Some doors just have no respect for the people trying to sneak through them.

The pilot reached for a gun that is sitting in his belt and points it up at me. I usually work with knifes but one of the first things I learned from Hydra was to never bring a knife to a gun fight.

I grab my gun from my belt and grip it hard in my hand. We stare off for a few seconds. The fun is ruined when he starts talking.

"Drop you weapon!"

"Or what?" I question, sassfully.

"Or I'll shoot," he says lingering his fingers dangerously close to the trigger.

"Okay, fine," I say flipping my gun around so it sits upside down in my fingers.

However, I can still pull my trigger.

Bang. Dead. I'm the only conscious soul in the plane.

"The bird is mine, Harvey," I say into my ear piece full of pride.

"I knew you could do it."

"Sure you I did."

*End of Flashback*

As much as I hated that life, it was far less complicated than the life I got given after waking up.

"WOAH!" A voice screams.

I skid on my bike and slide to a halt before the man.

"Uhh, miss, this is an unauthorised area."

"Well I obviously wouldn't be here if people were swarming this area," I say before zipping past him.

The darkness of the night makes the illuminated plane lights even more stunning. I scan the airport in search for a decent carrier. I soon lay eyes on an old shed. There's no one standing watch so I dump the motor bike where I first came in and sneak over.

The doors are rusty and iron and there's an outdated padlock that is securing the doors in place.

"Ancient, just like me," I whisper brushing my fingers lightly against the doors.

I take the same slim knife I used on the plane, all those years ago, from my shin pocket and start unpicking the lock.

After twisting it around a couple of times, the lock clicks open and I rip it from the hook. I softly swing open the doors and I'm there rests an old army aircraft. Just one. Sitting on its own. A forgotten war hero.

"Quaint. Alone. You and I are going to be good friends," I say, walking into the shed.

I put my hands on the wing and push myself up. An old pair of goggles are hanging on the pilot's wheel. My hands linger over the leather goggles before I snatch them and wrap them around my eyes.

"Okay. I'm just going to hope you have fuel in you."

My muttering must have been heard by some miracle god because the plane turns on. It's lights flicker as my eyes did when I first woke up, wondering where I was and who found me.

Neither the plane or I had a good schedule from when we woke up from our nap.

"At least we're both getting the long procrastinated vengeance."

As the words left my lips I let my body take over control my actions.

My new found family, father and best friend lied to me. I don't have a heart to make my choices with any more.