Fourth in the Timeline series |
Clara Lewis never expected to be back in the 1940s and Howard Stark never expected to have to help her get back...again. But with Howard branded a traitor Clara knows of only one person who can help her: Peggy Carter...
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Heather was flying blind. After all the hits the quinjet took, the navigation system was all but shot out. Steve had given her some very vague directions: 'go west'. How was she to know which way was west?! After struggling to remember back to her kindergarten days, Heather remembered the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, she finally found her barings.
The others were unnervingly quiet as Heather flew them to where Steve had instructed. To her, it was just a random patch of sea. However, flying to such a strange place had given Heather the ideal opportunity to evade their pursuers. No one would have expected them to go there. Heather didn't even expect to go there!
Every now and again, Heather would glance back to check on what the others were doing. It was mainly to feed her curiosity in the hopes that they'd reveal why she was currently hovering over the ocean. But they had kept mostly to themselves. Bucky and Steve were talking quietly to each other and Emma was patiently waiting on the sidelines, staring intently at the men, no doubt listening in on their conversation.
Several buttons were flashing at her from the dashboard, all warning lights of some kind. She reached down to find her collection of manuals and instruction guides from where she'd stashed them underneath the seat. She'd have to flick through them to work out just what she needed to do to make repairs. It shouldn't be too hard, right?
The next time Heather glanced over her shoulder, the guys had gone. Emma was left alone, pacing slowly around the quinjet, her head hung and staring at the floor. She was an odd one, Heather thought as she returned her attention back to the manuals, skim reading over the paragraphs she had already read. Emma was a tough person to read, she always had an air about her that reminded Heather of an oyster. Her face was always hard and fixed then she'd smile or relax just as you said something completely random. Emma had smiled at Heather when she asked a question Emma refused to answer.
There was something strange about her but Heather felt oddly comfortable with her. She wasn't worried about being left alone with Emma on the quinjet, despite knowing nothing about her. Beneath her hard shell, there was something familiar about her. Something that Heather remembered from somewhere, but couldn't quite put her finger on.
Heather flicked her head back to glance at Emma again, for reasons she couldn't quite identify. Perhaps she had remembered who Emma reminded her of and was looking to check. Or maybe she just wanted to know if she was still pacing, still had that tough look on her face. But Heather would never remember, there was nothing there to jog her memory. Emma had disappeared.
*
Emma jumped down into the corridor, flicking up the grate in the air vent she'd crawled threw and hastily securing the screws to cover her tracks. She glanced left and right, looking all the way down the corridor, searching for cameras or any sign of movement. There was none. She was safe.
