Chapter 4

"Did Nat say anything else?" Barton asked for the fourth time.

I repressed a sigh, staring out the passenger window of his Jeep. "No."

"What's your tracker say?"

"Still in Miami."

"You didn't look at it."

I unlocked my phone and checked the tracker. "Still in Miami," I repeated, holding the device up for Barton to see.

He glanced at the screen, then turned his attention back to the road. "Let's hope she's still with her phone." He sounded worried.

I had made the decision to involve Barton in this trip for practical reasons rather than for company. I didn't know much about him, except that he was a skilled fighter, and he shared a close friendship with Natasha. I hoped at least one of those things would help us during this search and rescue mission. We'd barely spoken a word to each other in the brief time since I joined the Avengers, but I knew he'd been one of Steve's friends too, and that meant he was probably trustworthy.

And that was enough for me to go by.

A rapid tapping sound started and I glanced over to see Barton rapping his fingers on the steering wheel. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but his expression was tense with worry.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. We'd been traveling for about five and a half hours, and my muscles were protesting. Factoring in rest stops, gas, and meals, we still had at least another thirteen hours until we reached Miami. We hadn't taken a plane – though it would have been faster – because two Avengers and their arsenals on public transport really wouldn't have worked out.

Barton's tapping was getting irritating.

I turned the radio on, hoping to drown out the sound, and was almost deafened by blaring pop music. Barton's tastes were obviously very different from my own. I turned the volume down and searched through the stations until I found one that played classical pieces. It wasn't great, but it was better than nothing.

I settled back in my seat and set the alarm on my watch to go off in an hour. Then I closed my eyes, letting the gentle strains of Bach lull me into a light sleep.

Barton woke me up before my alarm got the chance. He'd stopped in the carpark of a travel plaza in the middle of nowhere and wanted to know what he should get me from the nearby fast-food restaurant.

"A coffee and something that hasn't been soaked in oil," I replied.

Barton wrinkled his nose. "It's fast-food, man, but I'll do my best. Watch the car."

I smiled quietly as he walked away, stretching his arms over his head. It wasn't the car he was concerned about. It was the sports bags full of weapons and spy gear in the trunk.

I stifled a yawn, turning off my watch alarm. It had become a habitual thing for me to set it whenever I went to sleep. I'd learnt that if I could avoid the REM stage that came after the first hour and a half or so of sleep, I could also avoid the worst of my nightmares.

It wasn't a great solution by any means, and I was pretty sure my therapist wouldn't approve, but the last thing I wanted was to wake up screaming or crying, like I sometimes did, in front of Barton.

That would be awkward.

Barton returned after a few minutes with our lunch. The smell of coffee preceded him into the vehicle. He handed me my Styrofoam cup and container of tofu salad before practically inhaling his cheeseburger and fries.

I ate more slowly, skewering cubes of tofu with a plastic fork and sipping my coffee. I glanced at Barton as I ate. He'd arrived at the Tower at midnight and hadn't gone to bed until an hour later after I'd fully explained the situation. That made two and a half days of car travel with only four hours of sleep in a real bed. It showed in the dark circles under his eyes and the way he almost fell asleep halfway through his espresso.

We finished eating and swapped seats. Barton leaned his head back against his headrest and sighed, closing his eyes. "Any change on the tracker?" he mumbled.

I checked my phone. "Still in Miami."

Barton didn't answer. He was already fast asleep.

It was about twelve hours later when we drove into Miami. I was at the wheel again, Barton snoring quietly in the passenger seat.

I didn't feel like looking for a hotel at midnight, so I pulled into the first deserted parking lot I saw and stopped the car. Barton stirred slightly but didn't wake up.

I reclined my seat, set my alarm, and tried to rest, but sleep eluded me. Old wartime practices – and more recent HYDRA training – had drilled it into me to stay alert in unfamiliar territory.

I sighed and pulled out my phone, checking the tracker for the umpteenth time. I zoomed in on the maze of city streets until their names started appearing. The little red dot that represented Natasha's phone was only a few blocks away.

I looked across at Barton's sleeping form. He could look after himself for thirty minutes while I scouted out the phone's location.

I got out of the car and locked it behind me, slipping the keys back through the partially open window.

Barton slept on.

I felt a twinge of guilt for leaving him behind unawares as I jogged across the carpark and down the sidewalk. But he needed the sleep and I needed to do something. Besides, it had taken long enough to get here as it was without further delays. Heaven alone knew if we were already too late.

It felt good to be on the move, breathing in the humid air and finally stretching my legs after so long in the car. The streets in this part of the city were reasonably quiet, save for the sound of palm trees swaying in the light breeze. A couple of cars drove by but there were no pedestrians.

The tracker led me to the entrance of an underground mall carpark. The lights were off and no vehicles appeared to be inside.

I sized up the dark entrance. This would be the perfect place for an ambush if there were cars to hide behind. But aside from a few trolley bays and the pillars supporting the roof, the parking garage offered no real place for an attacker to strike from.

And regardless of all that, Natasha's phone was in there. She could be miles away by now for all I knew, but the first possible clue to what was going on was here.

I glanced up and down the street and, seeing no one, entered the parking lot. My boots made no sound on the concrete floor as I crossed the empty parking spaces.

Natasha's phone was lying face down beside a crushed Coke can near the far wall of the garage, its screen cracked. I slipped it into the pocket of my jacket and looked around for anything else that might indicate what had happened here. There didn't seem to be anything.

Behind me, the tiniest scrape of a footfall sounded.

A second later I had spun around to face the sound, fists clenched, as a slim figure took a quick step back.

It was a woman, clad in a close-fitting bodysuit that shimmered dark gray. The large eyes of her mask glowed pale blue and vein-like lines of silver wire ran along the contours of the suit. She looked like someone's idea of an alien corpse.

I faced her, ready to act. "What do you want?" I asked.

She didn't reply, and suddenly I felt a pair of arms wrap around my neck. I grasped at the arms, feeling an almost slippery material under my human hand as I prepared to throw this second assailant over my head.

A sudden surge of electricity around my throat ended that idea. I sank to one knee, gasping in pain as the shock continued, stabbing through me like knife blades.

Desperately, I threw back my cybernetic arm and felt it connect with a body. The grip around my neck loosened slightly and I tore myself free, staggering to my feet.

The first woman ducked in and threw a fist at my face. I blocked it with my metal arm – and realized my mistake as another jolt of electricity disabled the limb.

The second woman kicked at my stomach. I took the blow easily enough, but the accompanying shock nearly made me double over.

Enough of this.

As the first woman darted in again, I leapt up and kicked her with both feet squarely in the ribs. She flew backwards and crashed into a trolley bay. Inwardly, I winced at the impact. I hadn't meant to kick her that hard.

I reactivated my cybernetic arm and raised it as the second woman tried to grab my face with one gloved hand. I caught her wrist in an iron grip and she gasped in pain, shocking me once more.

This time I was more prepared for the burning pain that attacked my shoulder and side. I dug my metal fingers into the fabric of the woman's suit and felt something give. Then there was a flash of spark as the wires broke and the glove tore free.

The woman shrieked as the severed wires touched her exposed wrist, then quickly shut off the current, backing away from me. There was fear in her movements now.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

She glanced back at her unconscious partner and said something too low for me to catch. I got the message though as she tapped the small control screen on her left forearm, upping the suit's voltage to the max.

She'd rather die than give up answers.

"No, don't!" I lunged forward and grabbed at her hand just as she powered up the suit.

Lightning tore through my body and the world went black.

AN: Apologies for taking so long to post this chapter! Work was hectic this week. On a brighter note, Happy Birthday to Tom Holland's Spider-Man! XD