Chapter 59

Faster Than Bullets

Tension choked the group packed into the quinjet like winter snot. Everyone knew it was there, could feel it dripping down their lips and chin, but couldn't wipe it away fast enough. Emily wanted to call Lizzie, her brothers, to warn them, to talk and distract herself, to chase away the dread of Natasha's absence. She couldn't. Ultron would be listening. He knew they were coming, but he didn't need all the details.

If only they could tell Natasha they were coming. To ask if she was okay, if their little bean was fine, to just fucking hear her voice! Her leg jangled, and her fingers dug into her palms. The sting of pain had her flinching and frowning at the gauze on her hands. All that padding had her relegated to the back. She was the weakest of the group, and now she couldn't hold even a gun properly.

As before, when they'd attacked the HYDRA base in Sokovia, they expected Emily to stay on the quinjet unless someone came to get her. Stay here, while they went in to evacuate the city? While they went to rescue Natasha? While they put their lives on the line? Her stubby nails tried their best to cut through the gauze and rip her palms apart.

"Em, we'll find her." Clint was kneeling in front of her.

The monster inside her screamed. She jumped from her seat, grabbing at his face and ears, clutching tight, taking them both to the quin's floorplates. He tried to fight. He was too late; she already had control of his body. His back on the floor, one of her hands stayed on his face, the other went for her knife.

"This is your fault!"

Stab.

"You should have gone back for her!"

Stab.

"How could you betray us like this?"

Stab.

"You were supposed to be our friend!"

Stab. Stab! STAB!

Blood spurted from his open chest, painted her face, soaked her layers of gauze. "You were supposed to protect her," came her furious whisper.

Horror danced in his eyes. A howl tore from his throat as she started to heal him. "Em," was a wet gurgle. "Please."

Her knife drew lines across his lips, opened them like butter. She smashed the top and bottom together and told them to heal. "Lies won't pass your lips again." His mouth began to seal shut.

"Emily?" There was a hand on her shoulder.

Chest heaving, she blinked out of her murderous daydream. Clint was there, his mouth open, brows furrowed, face clean of blood. She threw herself at him.

Tears exploded as she glomped tight. How could she imagine doing those things to Clint? He was hurting over Natasha almost as much as she was. He did the right thing, leaving like he did. They had to protect the cradle and escape the superior numbers of Ultron. The narcissist murderbot would keep Natasha alive as a witness to whatever he was doing. And/or meatshield. Nat was fine for now.

He was slow to return her hug.

"It's okay, Clint." She whispered. "I'm over being angry."

His body tensed.

"That's a lie. I'm still super pissed, but I don't need to rip your head off anymore. I know you did the right thing."

There was a slight chuckle, and he eased into the embrace. "Thanks."

Over his shoulder, she saw the bulging eyes of Wanda. Pietro nudged her and gestured at the Avengers. Wanda's lips moved. Both their eyes darted to Emily. There was fear in their faces. Fear and something else. Emily couldn't place it. She was too busy feeling guilty that the kid had to endure more horror from Emily herself. No one should be subjected to the monsters in other people all the time, especially not a kid.

Wanda's lips kept moving. Emily closed her eyes, pulled back from the hug, turned to Steve. "What's our attack plan, Cap?"

Steve rose from his seat to address them all. Before they announced their presence by evacuating civilians from the city, they needed to secure Natasha. He suggested Clint.

Emily suggested Pietro. The kid was was the obvious choice for the job. He knew the territory, was the fastest, stealthiest of them all. Even Ultron would have trouble tracking or stopping him.

The team exchanged looks. As one voice, they disagreed. They had the map from their previous attack, fleshed out further by SHIELD's work. The ancient dungeon was where Natasha was likely being kept, a small area that had once been the deepest part of the castle. Long before HYDRA had discovered the massive natural cavern just feet beyond the dungeon and turned it into an alien-weaponry research lab. Wanda also pointed out a back entrance that wasn't on the map.

"Clint is good. Great. But Pietro is better suited to this job." Emily balked. "Natasha would say the same. Experience with local terrain is a huge advantage. He has experience skulking around and with being around Ultron."

Tight lips and narrowed eyes argued otherwise. They knew she was right. She could see it. But they didn't want to trust the boy or his sister. She set her jaw and stared Clint down.

Tony took half a step toward him. "Legolas, don't give in. This is the battle of Rohan, and you need to listen to reason, not to the evil wizard in your head."

"That is a terrible twist of ideas, Tony." Clint chided. "Saruman had hold of the king's mind, not Legolas'."

"You know what I mean. Don't get wrapped up in the simile."

"But I can't help it. It's terrible."

"Birdboy, you c-"
"Besides, Legolas listened to his heart and best friend Aragorn when it mattered. He let the hobbit do the job, because he was the best choice."

Tony scowled. "Oh, come on!"

Off to the side, Bucky hissed in Steve's ear. "Do you have any idea what they're talking about?"

Steve nodded. "Yea. I actually do. I'll tell you later."

"Are you calling me a hobbit?" Pietro demanded.

Clint shrugged. "If it works."

"Frodo was a damn hero." Emily added.

"Not exactly fast, but he got the job done." Bruce shrugged when Tony and Steve sighed at him.

Thor shook off the confusion about hobbits. "The boy is fast."

"That's four to three." Clint said.

"Okay, fine!" Pietro threw his hands up after a minute of silence. "I will go in and rescue the Black Widow. You," he pointed at Emily. "Tell me something I can use to get her to trust me enough to let me do this rescue job."

It couldn't be something that had been discussed in the tower. Or anything that Tony had known or had access to. The house in Atlanta. Or the farm. "Tell her our first selfies are in the living room."

He blinked, nose wrinkling. "What?"

"Our first selfies are in the living room."

Steve was nodding.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tony asked.

"Something you don't know about, so it's something Ultron wouldn't." Steve replied.

Tony frowned. "Oh. It's something from their secret fort."
"What?" Pietro looked offended, probably because Tony spoke to him.

"Just say that." Emily said. "Nat will know I sent you."

"The rest of us will wait until we get confirmation of Natasha's safety, then we'll deploy around the city to begin evacuation."

"What if I can't get the Widow out?" Pietro asked.

"Then we'll move to plan 'B'."

"Which is what?"

"Something we'll discuss once you're on your way."

Pietro sneered. "Still don't trust me?"

Steve looked like he was struggling with the idea of lying.

"It's also in case Ultron captures you, brother." Wanda soothed. "They don't want you to have information for him."

"One thingthough." Emily put her hand up. "Where's the armor we gave you?"

Pietro looked down at his blue hoodie. "I'm faster than bullets. I don't need armor."

Emily rolled her eyes. "You can't dodge what you can't see. You're wearing armor."

"No."

She went to a cabinet and rummaged, found a vest. Hadn't Clint used to wear this one? It was scratched and stained, but otherwise serviceable. She took it to Pietro. "Put this on."

"No!"

She opened the Velcro, held the vest ready.

"What part of 'no' do you not understand?" Pietro stepped back.

She pushed it forward.

"Get away from me!" He flashed to the other side of the quin.

Emily glared at him, vest held up. "You're wearing armor."

Chuckles came from Clint. "You know, Director Fury tried to argue with Em too." He settled back into the pilot's seat. "He lost."

"I won't."

They continued to dance until Tony tripped the boy, and when he sat up to yell, Emily touched his cheek. His eyelids closed in forced sleep, and Emily got the vest on him. She let him wake up.

He groaned awake, then sat up with a shout. "What the hell? I c-"

"You weren't fast enough to evade me, Pietro." Emily spoke with a firm, calm tone. "Me. What makes you think you can avoid bullets?"

His scowl seethed with rage. A flash later, the vest was off, his blue hoodie hanging loose on his frame once more.

Sighing, Emily looked around for the vest. Was it in a cabinet? She didn't think she'd seen the blur move toward one, but…

Wanda lifted the front of the hoodie. The vest was under it. She smiled, a tiny, half-hidden thing, but it was a smile.

"It was uncomfortable." Pietro snapped.

Steve tried to hide his grin, but Emily didn't. She let it beam at the boy. "Okay. And you, Wanda. Where's your armor?"

The girl unzipped the red leather jacket. There was a vest under it. Pietro grumbled something about selling their souls.

Flak vests, however designed by Tony, weren't at all what she wanted the kids to wear. It was better than nothing. This small victory would have to be enough for now. On top of convincing Pietro to take his antibiotics was a massive win. Hopefully, it'd even be enough.

Steve took the conversation back, detailing timing and communication. Ear plug comms were passed out. Wanda frowned at the one offered to her, but took it. The basic plan was gone over again, a few tweaks made.

"We're here." Clint announced.

They were hovering over a stretch of dense forest. Pietro nodded, and the bay door opened. He shouldered the backpack full of gear for Natasha and hugged his sister before jumping out and blurring away.

"Thor." Steve ordered.

The god stepped out a few miles closer to the city. Oh. He was backup in case, well, problems. Emily shuddered. A hand settled on her shoulder.

"They're fine." Tony offered. "The kid will find her, no problem, bring her back, and you can sew up any scratches she's managed to acquire."

"Take us to the city. We've got an evacuation to get started." Steve ordered.


Natasha had been watching the Ultron Minion Show for hours now. Most hovered around their assembly line, making more of them, one piece at a time. Some whisked in and out of the manufacturing area with regularity. Materials and parts were brought in, new minions went out. As she really got a grasp on the amount of material moving around, got a better look at some of the components being created, she realized that the minions weren't just reproducing. Ultron was building something else. She frowned at the components that wouldn't fit on a minion. What were they for? What was his plan?

A blur caught her attention. It zipped around the shadows and managed to avoid the hundreds of watchful eyes. She lost track of it amongst the organized confusion. Pietro Maximoff? If the boy was working for Ultron again, why was he acting like a sneak? Was that his default and the minions were merely ignoring it? Could she use that info somehow?

Air rippled through her cage, and a shadow draped over her. Long and narrow, it blocked the single bulb of light in the main corridor. She looked up at its source. The Maximoff boy glared at her through the bars of her cage. Rage boiled in his eyes as they swept over her form, and he hissed under his breath. Another blur, and he was gone. If he was going to make her escape difficult, how to slow him down?

She spent the next fifteen minutes considering ways to trap or slow the boy. Most would injure, possibly kill him. Emily wouldn't want that. Natasha didn't either. Even the simplest of traps that would slow a normal person, maybe roll an ankle or fracture wrist, could be potentially lethal with how fast Pietro moved. Sedatives were probably the safest, but weren't something she had access to.

"Can you walk?" An irritated voice demanded.

She looked up from her thoughts. In clean clothes and baggy hoodie, Pietro was scowling. "If I had crutches and somewhere to go."

His brows drew further together as he studied the rough splint on her lower leg. "What's wrong with the leg?"

"It's broken."

He danced in place, a fidgety movement that was probably normal, yet he suddenly stopped and gave an even fiercer scowl at his own legs. "Fuck this," was muttered before he blurred away again.

The noise and movements in the cavern didn't change. Whatever the boy was about, Ultron didn't know or care. Pietro returned with a gnarled, stripped tree branch in his hand that was nearly his height and slightly thick as a broom handle at its thinnest. He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and unlocked her cage, strode in, and thrust out the branch. When she didn't immediately take it, he rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath in Sokovian about how he'd gotten stuck with this bitch.

"Fortune said that your first selfies are in your living room."

Her pulse took off. Emily. Of course she'd found a way to rescue the twins and get them on her side.

He thrust the branch at her again. "It's the best I could find. Come on, we'll be slow enough as it is without you staring at me like I've grown a Stark goatee."

"Emily sent you?" She needed to ask.

"Yes." He fidgeted. "Do you need help getting up?"

Though she could probably do it alone, she reached for his hand. Surprisingly gentle, he crouched and got her up and leaning on the branch. He shrugged off the small backpack he had on and rummaged inside. From it, he pulled a handgun that he handed butt-first to her, that she accepted and shoved in a holster. A small square object was held out next.

"Stark said it's a close-range EMP. It will knock out anything within three meters." He frowned at the remaining contents. "There are two sticks in here. Stark said they've got electrical charges high enough to fry a robot."

Her hands twisted around the branch. She hoped the upgrades were up to the task this time. "You should keep one out."

A charge stick in one hand, his other around her waist, they started their slow exit from the castle. Movement exploded in the cavern, had them freezing and readying for a fight. The minions were flooding from the cavern, out unseen exits, not seeing or uncaring of Natasha's escape. Pietro made a noise and tugged her forward. His skinny frame felt surprisingly sure and strong under her arm. She was fairly certain there was a flak vest under his hoodie as well. Probably Em's doing. The boy was too cocksure and arrogant to wear it voluntarily.

He ducked them into an alcove and pressed her into a wall, hand going to her mouth to stifle her squeak of pain. A minion flew past. They stood there, hearts pounding, breaths held, as three more flew in its wake.

"Ultron doesn't care about you escaping." Pietro hissed. "Or all these robots wouldn't be ignoring us."

She opened her mouth to respond, and another minion appeared. It flew right up to there alcove and peered in.

"And what do we have here?" Ultron's voice chided.

Three bullets went into its chest. The minion twitched.

"Come now. I was built to resemble you primitive monkeys. My central processo-
The minion crumpled, the bullet hole in its head sparking. Pietro rubbed at his ears. "I can't hear anything. Why can't I h-"

Natasha grabbed his face, aimed it at hers. "Gunshots are loud. We need to move."

He blinked. Fear slowly wrinkled away, replaced by his usual sour anger. He pushed them forward. The next minion to arrive got a full charge from the Stark cattle prod in his hand. As the metal body convulsed and crumpled, Natasha started mental acrobatics to come up with a better name for the weapon. After a glimpse of sunlight from an archer's window, she sighed and settled on batons.

"Where are the others?" She asked.

"Evacuating the city." He puffed. "Fuck. I didn't think you'd be this heavy. I was going to carry you out and be helping them already. Why are you this heavy?" He kept complaining.

"I have superhuman strength, kid. That comes with denser, and therefor heavier, muscle mass than a regular woman."

He stumbled and stopped to stare at her, shock dropping his jaw.

"Honest fact." She offered a wicked grin. "You can process it as we walk."


"Where are they?" Emily stopped yelling evacuation orders to worry, glancing up at the mountain castle. "They should be here by now." Pietro had sent the signal that he'd gotten her out of the castle over an hour ago. Dammit, they should've given him a radio in addition to that limited little transmitter!

Bucky looked over at her. "What?" was asked in English.

She'd been yelling in Russian. Bucky didn't speak it. His languages were bad English, spotty German, and awful French, very World War II. He was there as her muscle and bodyguard. The whole team was dispersed throughout the city, trying to get civilians out before Ultron realized they were there and the fight started. "I'm worried about Nat. Pietro should have gotten her out by now."

"I'm sure she's fine, Em. Natasha is one tough broad." He gave a reassuring smile before returning to his own shouts. English didn't seem to be in a lot of Sokovians' repertoires, but his voice traveled farther, got attention that Emily used as best she could.

It seemed to be working. People were grabbing purses, backpacks, kids, and getting in their cars. They trusted the face of Emily Fortune. On the other side of the city, she knew Tony was getting a lot of push back. No one liked the Stark name here.

"We've got incoming!" Clint's shout over comms had them shifting to battle stances, eyes darting for sign of metal attackers.

Nothing immediately shot lasers at Emily, so she took a breath and went back to ushering civilians to evacuate. She couldn't keep from casting looks at the castle every five seconds though.


A/N - Hello, friends!

What a year already, huh? I hope everyone is doing well, and if you're not, I hope this update brings you a brief respite from the darkness.