Bluebird

Chapter Four: It Begins

Author's Note: I made a minor adjustment to the last chapter of Bluebird. Instead of the message stating the target was "wounded", I changed it to "has been tranquilized" in order to better fit the story. It's just a minor change. Thank you! Enjoy the story!

Meanwhile, 2 Hours Ago

Elizabeth looked at the agent, her mouth turning down slightly.

"Really?"

He gave her a feral grin. "Really really. Get the sedative ready."

The last part he directed to one of his fellow agents, who pulled a syringe from his suit pocket.

"Time for the birdie to go night-night." He sneered.

Elizabeth looked at the syringe, then glanced at the gun.

"No... I don't think so." She murmured.

Ducking away from the gun barrel, she moved outside of the way of the bullet, grabbing his arm with both hands, one above and one below the elbow.

She kicked him in the kneecap before he could react, knocking him down onto the ground, but the other three men jumped into action before she could eliminate the leader.

One of them grabbed her right wrist, aiming the needle for a vein in her forearm. Slamming her heel into his shin soon loosened his grip, and an elbow to his nose released it entirely.

Whirling, she hit the third man in the chest with her fist, sending him sprawling across her front lawn.

The fourth guy was smarter. He kicked in the back of her knee, causing her to drop down a few inches. Making a hasty recovery, she used the weakened leg to her advantage, spinning it around and delivering a roundhouse kick to his stomach.

Sprawling backwards, he hit the ground and stayed down.

Elizabeth staggered backwards, letting out a breath she had been holding.

Suddenly, a hand wrapped around her ankle and tugged, pulling a stunned Elizabeth down to the ground.

The blond agent was suddenly on top of her, wielding the needle in his hand.

"You made a mistake." He spat.

"No I didn't." She replied, before landing a knee in between his legs, and bucking him off of her with hips.

Quickly, before he recovered, she slammed her elbow into his gut, before slamming her knuckles into his nose.

Pulling her feet into the air, she thrust them down and pulled herself up.

Looking down at him, she reflexively wiped her hands on her dress. "Never send a boy to do a man's job."

Running into her bedroom, she carelessly pulled a shirt and pair of pants from the luggage bag, shedding the dress and pulling on the "more suitable" clothes.

Grabbing a backpack she kept nearby and packed with essentials, she ran back down the stairs and out the back door.

Pulling out of her garage, she drove out into the road, refraining from tearing out of there and risking being detained by police for speeding. If she was right, those guys weren't alone, and if that were true, she had less time than she could afford.

Not even looking at the road, she typed a series of digits into the digital keypad installed in her dashboard.

The dial tone only buzzed once, before a someone picked up. "Hello, you've reached Stark Tower. How may I help you?"

She sighed in relief. "Hi, I'm looking for a Nico Joss. He works in the building. Could I speak with him please?" She asked politely, resisting any urges to appear as anything more than a polite citizen.

"I'll check. Can you hold please?"

Elizabeth agreed, then looked up at the road and almost let a curse slip from her mouth as she spotted the lineup of black sedans across the highway.

Swerving to the side of the road, she backed up and tried to go back the way she came,but a bullet through her back windshield and into the back of her headrest changed that idea.

Slamming on the brakes, she ducked down, hastily undoing her seatbelt and grabbing a handgun from under the dashboard, along with a drawstring pouch full of rounds.

Lifting her head slightly, she dropped it back down when a tranquilizer dart embedded itself in the backseat.

Sliding over to the door, she opened it, dropping out the car and onto the ground.

In one bold movement, she rose up and emptied the gun, before ducking back down.

The other Zephyr agents openly returned fire, but only with identical tranquilizers as the one stuck in her backseat.  

"You can't win, Dickens!" One of them yelled.

"I'd beg to differ, sir! I've been through worse and I'm still here!" She hollered back, reloading the gun.

"Yes, but we have the advantage."

"How so?" She replied.

In response, a dart flew from behind, sinking into her shoulder with a speed that even she couldn't react to in time.

She gasped, more in shock than in pain, yanking the dart out and tossing it to the ground. But as her head began to grow lighter, she knew she didn't have many options.

She had to move, while she still could.

Inhaling sharply, she mustered her will and took off, relying on adrenaline to keep her on her feet. Sprinting across the road, she somehow -for reasons unclear to her slowly fading consciousness- managed to avoid any more darts before she made it to the cover of a nearby convenience store, which read "CLOSED", but Elizabeth had never let that stop her.

Breaking the glass door, ignoring the blood dripping down her hand, she slipped inside and ran though, knocking down aisles and stands in her haste.

Going to the back door, she ran into the alleyway and leaned against the rough brick wall. Heaving up her gun, she cocked it, then pointed it at the alleyway entrance.

If she was going down to the likes of Zephyr, she was going down kicking and screaming.