The Dark Assassin | Thor: The Dark World [2]

Chapter 32

five weeks later

"Duck!" I swerved behind a tree, bullets flying past my head. I whipped back around, firing two shots, and heard another body thud to the ground.

We had been caught in the skies while flying to Wakanda for some reason or another, I couldn't remember, and our jet was shot down. Now, we were stuck in the middle of a firefight with the men who shot us down, six to one.

Sam was in the sky, soaring around on those bird wings of his. Rogers was constantly saying we should "incapacitate, not kill" though I was inclined to ignore him and kill the men trying to kill us. I hadn't a clue where Ellie or Barton were, probably fighting from a distance along with the Widow, and Barnes was hiding behind a tree.

I motioned for Barnes to distract the men, and he nodded. I jumped to one of the lower branches of the tree, scrambling up and moving quietly until I was behind the men.

Silent as death, I sprung down, driving one of my blades into a man's skull before taking another's head off. One of them started firing at me, but I pulled the katana up, the bullets bouncing off.

He clicked his gun, pointing it at me as a threat. In response, I smiled at him and watched the color drain from his face, fear bubbling into his eyes.

Smiles like loaded guns--they always paled at smiles like loaded guns.

I sensed someone behind me, and reached back, snapping the gun into the air as it fired. I turned, twisting the weapon out of his hand and firing it into his skull. I didn't bother lining up my other shots, firing twice and listening as the final two bodies thudded into the grass.

Slowly, the others emerged from the treeline. I could smell the anger radiating from Rogers a mile away.

"This was not a kill mission. You had no right to make that call," he seethed, jabbing a finger in my direction.

"The man who represents a country built on the idea of freedom and rights telling me I have no rights to my choices. The world really does have a sick sense of irony," I commented.

"Is this a joke to you? These men have lives, families to go home to!" he exclaimed.

"Pity for their families, then. Look, if you're trying to teach me empathy or honor, you're fighting a losing battle. I had those forced out of me a long time ago," I shrugged. "Need I remind you I was molded into a weapon for thirteen years?"

"That's not an excuse. You killed those men!" he shouted.

"It was us or them! I'd rather it be them."