Ghost Protocol
Activating this protocol will leave you without support, or back-up.
Activating this protocol is considered suicide, especially if you're caught.
Disclaimer: I own nothing that is claimed by Marvel.
I do own a couple of later characters and this plot.
"Yo, A.C?" Skye called over comms. "Three inbound on your six!"
"Copy!" came the reply as she watched him duck into a vacant room. She trained her eyes on the three figures as they made their way through the corridors, following Coulson's path. When they slowed to a stop outside the room where her boss was, she felt her heart leap into her throat, "A.C!"
The last thing she saw was the smallest of the three, female, reach for the door before her feeds went down. She screamed through comms hoping for a response, tried accessing the cameras, audio, anything. Nothing worked. Less than a minute later, Fitzsimmons and May rushed in, "Skye? What happe..." Noticing the blank screens, they trailed off and she saw all three pale, May slightly. "He shouldn't have gone in alone! He shouldn't have gone in alone!" Skye launched her headset at the central screen and all but sprinted to the armoury, the older agent hot on her heels.
Arming themselves to the eyeballs in record time, they grabbed extra ammunition just in case. Combat knives sheathed and in boots. Sidearm's, Glock 17's at their hips. Assault rifles in hand, the M4A1 Carbine. Fitzsimmons having caught up produced custom made grenade belts which both women slung overhead, looping one arm through.
They'd parked the 'bus' in a small-ish field about a mile from the compound. So, with Skye on point and May bringing up the rear, they headed to the compound through a large patch of mildly dense trees, gunfire getting louder with every step. May hated guns, preferring hand-to-hand combat instead, but they'd found this compound practically oozing HYDRA agents so she had no other choice. She wasn't going to unleash 'The Cavalry,' it wasn't her anymore.
As the building came into view, both women sped up and stopped at a small cluster of trees, adequate shelter. Coulson and two others were sandwiched between two MDX's, brandishing the HYDRA signature. Shells were raining down on them from all directions.
The women stood, knees slightly bent, weapons raised and turned to look at each other. Calming themselves, they wore their war faces, void of emotion and nodded. Skye moving to the left, May to the right, stepping forward in unison and opening fire.
HYDRA agents scattered or dropped. A few seconds later, May found herself dodging a rogue arrow and opened fire again. Coulson and co turned, recognition claiming their faces as the women stepped out of the shadows of the trees raining a hail of gunfire down on the enemy. Coulson's heart swelled with pride but he didn't let it show. He watched as the women, creeping forward still, hit the magazine release, reloaded and opened fire for the third time.
May caught Coulson's eyes and gestured with her head for them to move out. As she lay down the necessary cover fire, she caught Skye pulling the belt off in her periphery and followed suit. Seconds apart, buttons were pushed and belts were launched.
The women retreated to the trees, covering the group, scanning their surroundings for stragglers until the almost perfectly timed explosions. They ran to catch up, dodging trees, still observing, covering, focused.
Finally making it to the 'bus,' they relaxed slightly and May took off for the cockpit immediately after depositing her weaponry in the lab. Thinking they were safe, Skye scanned the area and turned as the shot rang out. Delayed reaction caught her as still as a statue until the darkness broke out.
The wind picked up around them, her hair flailing wildly and her eyes. God, her eyes were blood red with feline-like pupils as black as the darkest shadows. Skin, a sickly shade of white, showing black veins. Palms facing forward, stalk still, she hovered a few inches above the solidity that was the hold floor.
The wind had gotten worse with every passing second. "Skye?!" Coulson and Fitzsimmons enquired. One of their guests stood, jaw on the floor, eyes wide. The other, smirked and stood in front of her.
"Hey, Angel! Get your pretty little ass down here or I'll have your precious birdie hit you with a tranq!" The woman waited, watching, looking bored. When it finally seemed like she was calming down, a lack of almost hurricane-like winds, Coulson told their guests to meet him in the briefing room and continued to watch as his girl reined her emotions in. If he didn't view her as the closest thing to a daughter that he had, she'd have gone on the Index and would have a different commanding officer. But she was family and you don't turn your back on family, no matter what!
When she'd finally gone back to her usual self, she could barely breathe, the air coming and going in short, fast puffs. She shuffled towards the lab, removing her t-shirt as quickly and as painlessly as possible. Coulson let out a long breath when he saw that she'd worn the skin-tight bullet proof vest shirt but turned away as she proceeded to remove it. When he turned back, she was lifting one side of a bright purple sports bra, sitting awkwardly on the examination table. That's when he noticed the black bruise working its way up her rib cage, round her back, across her front and down towards her hips. She'd be in pain for a while.
The vests were designed to stop the bullets from penetrating the skin but that didn't stop the damage done from the force. Yes, she had heightened healing capabilities but it'd still take a few days for the pain to subside.
"Orders, Skye. Orders are to be followed! It's not that I'm not grateful, but you could have gotten yourselves killed and I'd need to find a new number two! What the hell were you thinking?!" Coulson was almost shouting and Skye, glaring at him.
Slowly gaining the ability to breathe normally, she replied, "Director Coulson, sir, I don't give a damn about orders! Do you expect me to step up when you've been cut down? Do you expect me to just take on all that responsibility? Do you expect me to leave the only father I've ever known to die in enemy hands? No, I'm not just an Agent of SHIELD. No, I'm not some ops robot. No, I'm not gonna stand back and let the only father figure I've ever known commit suicide by hostiles. If you wanted someone like that, you should've made May or Hill your second, but you're welcome, sir!" She'd let her feelings known to all, and she watched as the silent blush spread like wildfire up his face. Smirking, she stalked off to her bunk and collapsed on her bed. She'd never been this exhausted in a while. In all fairness, it'd been a while since she'd let her origins out. Her 0-8-4 status was only known to those closest to her and she'd never let herself unleash it in front of someone other than family before.
For once in her life, her dreams were peaceful. No biological father being a completely manipulative moron. No bodies littering the walkway she'd casually strolled along. No Grant threatening to take her out. No Jemma jumping from the cargo hold. No Fitz being in a coma. No Coulson shouting, begging for death. No May, silent tears staining her cheeks. Honestly, the last one frightened her more than anything else. She'd never seen May so emotional and the people person in her didn't know what to do. She wanted to hug, to comfort the older woman but the fear of having her head virtually torn off held her back. She'd never seen her mother, for all intents and purposes, look so vulnerable and yet, so strong. She'd studied May, the way her shoulders shook, sobs threatening to tear through her chest. Studying the way the strongest woman she'd known fell apart. At that point in time, she didn't care. She didn't care if the woman rejected her comfort, didn't care if the woman physically removed the arm from her body, and didn't care if anyone saw what was going on because she needed the woman to know that she was there. That she would always be there, any time, any place, as long as it didn't blow her cover!
She slept the entire night, through dinner, through Tai Chi, breakfast and lunch. Using that side of her, the side she loved to hate, drained her energy because she didn't use it often enough. She'd pushed it away for too long and it was starting to show more and more and if she didn't get it under control, she knew they'd have to put her down eventually.