Natasha's face, if possible, got even darker. It took all of her will power to not punch a hole in the wall. She knew just from looking in Coulson's eyes what had happened; the red room was on the bus, and they were taking over.
"Tell me everything sir."
Coulson nodded, then plunged right in.
"The pilots I asked to fly were apparently of red room origin. When they changed direction on us, I asked around to see what the others were doing, thinking May had gone and relieved the agents of their duties. Every single person was confused, rambling about 'some thing' called the red room. I didn't understand until Barton came pelting towards me and nearly tackled me. I knew then we were in trouble. I sent Ward to the cockpit to confront the pilots, but he found Ivan and a bunch of his buddies guarding the cockpit door."
Natasha flinched at the name Ivan, and Coulson paused. Natasha shook her head.
"Continue"
"Ward just got away; they didn't follow him, leading me to believe that they're pretty sure of themselves. And if Ivan is confident enough that he doesn't need to have every single one of us in his sight, especially you, well, I hate to say it, but it's time to drop everything and run."
Natasha swallowed, then folded her arms across her chest.
"What actions are going to be, or are being taken? And how's Clint?"
"Well, Clint was just as shaken as you are, but he doesn't have that much restraint; when I signed off just a few minutes ago, Fitz was huddled in a corner while Clint let off a few rounds of ammunition and arrows into the wall. So far, we're trying to find out how this could have happened. We think Ivan and his comrades were smuggled in when I left to get you. I had left the bus wide open, and I'm pretty sure everyone went out for a walk. Ivan hid in the cargo hold, right below the cockpit. We traced the new route the bus has been placed on; we're heading for an airport in Moscow. Said to be picking up a few people. Do you recall a blonde female? Nearly killed you two years ago?"
Natasha's eyes grew huge. "They wouldn't, would they? Is that even possible? I mean, it's perfectly possible, but they wouldn't... Or would they?" Natasha sounded like a broken record as she argued with herself, trying to come to some conclusion in her mind. Coulson didn't seem perturbed by his Agent's delirious state of mind. He watched with mild interest, then suddenly reached up and touched his ear.
"Ok, listen up Romanoff. I've just gotten feedback from the guys. Thor, Ward, May, and Steve are attempting to overthrow the pilots, while Bruce, Tony, and Skye are trying to do something techie to mechanically shut off the power to the bus, but leave on the generator, giving us just a small amount of power, so that the only thing they can do is land, or if the red room decides to, crash."
Simmons, who had been listening attentively from behind Natasha, spoke up. "Sir, what about Fitz, and this Agent Barton?"
Coulson smiled and tapped his earpiece. "You'll see soon enough. Romanoff, here's what I need from you. I need you to promise me that you are going to keep Jemma, and anyone else that I place into your care, safe. Don't give me that look. You're too involved, and we can't risk them triggering any old memories that will make you turn against us. Unfortunately, I feel that their grand plan is to either force you back into the red room program, or kill you. I'm not going to let that happen. Stay here, unless you hear otherwise. I will keep you updated, but until then, Stay. In. The. Room. We'll get this settled, Natasha. We always do."
Coulson signed off. Natasha breathed out slowly, fighting to stay calm. Simmons look up at her as she moved to her homework still laying out on her bed.
"Natasha, are you okay?"
Natasha paused, her back turned toward Simmons.
"I'm fine. Just really want to kill a few people that's all. Listen, it's almost night, so if Stark is able to cut power to the plane, it's going to get pretty dark. Plus, you don't have anything to sleep on. Give me ten minutes, then count to ten. If I'm not back by then, call Coulson, okay?"
Before Simmons could say another word, Natasha had strode across the room, pulled open the door, and slid out into the hallway, not making a single noise. Simmons sighed, then glanced at her watch, checking the time.
With two minutes left to spare, Simmons heard a squeaking in the hallway. Her immediate reaction was fear, but then she heard someone whisper "It's me!" Simmons walked to the door and eased it open. Natasha filed in, pulling two bed cots, four flashlights, a gallon of water, a liter of soda, a couple bags of chips, and a container of Oreos.
The first thing she said was "Man, you guys eat good here!"
Simmons laughed; Coulson always made sure they had what he called 'edible' food around to eat. Natasha pulled the two beds over to the corner, where she unfolded them and laid them out. She dumped the other supplies onto her bed, then tossed a bag of chips at Simmons.
"Realized we might need food. I can go back and get more if we need it. Sounded to me like we were going to have visitors, so I might want to. If Clint shows up, we're screwed. The only time I've ever seen him stop eating was when he cleaned out every drawer in Coulson's apartment."
Simmons laughed again, but her mind wasn't focused on the conversation at hand; it was on her partner and best friend. Where was he?
Just as Simmons was forming that question to ask, she heard a dull thud from overhead. Natasha did to; she picked up knife, slid it into her pocket, then grabbed her pistol. Simmons was vaguely aware that Natasha pushed her into the corner where she was protected by the cots. More sounds came from above, and Natasha positioned herself on the opposite side of the room from the air vent.
As the noises grew closer to the vent, the sounds got quieter. Eventually they faded all together, making Natasha's hairs on the back of her neck stand up; it was the calm before the storm. Suddenly there was a loud bang, and someone yelled 'shh!' Natasha watched as the grate to the air vent toggled slightly, then disappear into the vent. She tensed, ready to pounce. Simmons ducked her head. Time seemed to stop.
A dark figure lowered himself from the vent and into the room. Natasha was on him before he hit the ground.