They came from the trees with the swift strength of trained assassins. It was only moments before Clint was overwhelmed; as a foul-scented rag was stuffed over his face, forcing him to take in several breaths. He stopped immediately, ignoring the buzzing in his ears - was it Steve asking for help, or a side effect of the chloroform? - and tried to elbow his captor in the ribs. The response was a sharp kick to the back of his knee. The sudden burst of pain caused him to inhale a sharp breath; the rest was darkness.
He woke some time later in what he could only assume was a rough-walled cell; fading grey brick surrounded him, with rusting chains wrapped around his wrists. He groaned and shifted against the concrete floor, glaring into the darkness. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he wished they hadn't; Rachel was slumped in the opposite corner with blood pooled around her. His ears told him she was still breathing, a good sign at least. Clint shifted again, tugging at the chains with all the force he could. With a huff and another tug the rusted metal snapped. He crawled across the floor to his fellow agent. The wound wasn't terribly deep and seemed to have bypassed most of the major organs - or so he thought, until he tried to pull her towards him and realised it had hit an artery.
"Shit, shit, hang on Leighton," he pushed his hands against it and held still, hoping help would arrive soon. The communications unit had been ripped from his ear, hers too by the looks of it, and both had been stripped of weapons. Clint refused to believe they would leave her here to die. It was obvious they were American agents - they surely wouldn't risk it.
Then again, dead men could tell no tales.
Steve sucked in a breath and held still as another lot of guards went past. After the absolute disaster outside had been he was the only one to evade capture - Diamondback was injured, possibly critically by the looks of it, Hawkeye had been rendered unconscious, and Quake had vanished into the fray of fighting. He hadn't seen her since and could only assume she had been dragged away with the others. It was now his sole mission to free Clint, get Rachel medical attention, find Daisy and save the kidnapped girl, while still following the SHIELD mission objectives.
He had no doubt he could do it. The question was how. How could he, alone, without back up? As he pressed himself back into the dark cavity he'd hidden himself in an idea occurred to him. He raised a hand to his comms. "Agent Morales, come in."
There was a pause before replied, sounding scared as all hell. It didn't surprise him. He thought back to his days serving the army - Peggy probably would have called Morales a green-eyed twit. She'd said it to him enough times. "Yes, sir?"
"We've run into trouble. I need you to call in for back up. You have our location?"
"Both latitude and longitude, sir."
"Good. And Morales - be careful. I'm going to try and get Clint free, but there's no doubt they have men out looking for others in our party."
"Be careful yourself, Captain. Radio silence."
He gave a soft laugh and slid out from his hiding place. The hallway was clear for now, though likely not for long. Steve mentally took note of his surroundings - grey brick walls, concrete floor run through with cracks, heavy-looking doors that had been painted the same dull grey as everything else. Each had a small, dust-covered window set into it. He sidled up to one and peered in. It appeared bare at first and he nearly walked on, were it not for the small thing moving in a corner. With a glance around he went to try the doorknob but instead found a keypad. It looked out of place, something modern in such a hostile environment. He frowned down at it. Three of the numbers were more faded than the others, so with a shrug, he pressed them in reverse order.
9...5...2
To his surprise the door opened with a faint click. He crept inside.
The thing was a girl. She was all long limbs and pale skin, with a mess of black hair and spiteful green eyes that were glaring into him. He held up his hands to show her he meant no harm before dropping down to one knee. She appeared uninjured, but dry blood caked her dark clothes and was thick in her hair. "Hey, kid. You okay? Can you speak English?"
After a moment's hesitation, she nodded, and replied with an accent he couldn't place. "Yes. English. Okay."
"You're Catalina, right?"
She nodded again, unrelenting in her glare, and pulled herself up from the floor with the help of his hand. She snatched hers away quickly and stood at least a metre away from him. He gestured to the door, careful to keep his movements slow; she was almost wholly untrusting of him, it seemed.
Steve walked out with her following behind, staying close, but just out of reach. Now he had her he decided getting her out was priority - the others could wait. They walked down the halls, eyes peeled for security cameras and guards. When they heard footsteps approaching Steve grabbed her, one hand over her mouth before she could cry out in protest, and pulled her into a dark corridor that branched off the hall. "I'm sorry," he murmured in her ear. "We can't get caught."
In response she bit his hand, glaring up at him. He hissed and glared back, biting his tongue as the approaching footsteps grew louder. Two armed men walked past, conferring roughly in a language he didn't understand. He glanced down at the girl again. She was frowning.
"They say - they say American...I do not know how this word in English - it is a bad word. They say the Americans will be killed in return for the death of their...father?"
Steve breathed in slowly, helping Catalina out to the main hall again. Don't think about it. They'll be fine. They kept walking until they came to a window large enough to get them both through, and a quick look out of it told him no men remained outside. They had all come into the building to observe the execution of the Americans.
He gave her a boost as he slid the window open just far enough to get her through. She turned back to give him a puzzled look when she realised he wasn't following.
"Go into the forest. Twenty miles due south from here is a woman named Ali. I know it's a long distance to walk, I'm sorry about that, but I can't come with you. Find Ali, and she'll take you home, okay sweetheart?"
The girl nodded and he went to close the window until he realised Morales was standing just in the edge of the dense green jungle, arms folded, expression smug. He pointed and told the girl to go to her; he could only trust Alisande would get her back to safety. With a frown and a nod the girl slipped from the sill and landed on the ground below, hands and feet squelching in the mud. She brushed off her hands on her shirt, and with one last look at him, took off towards the trees.
Authors Note
Generally, I don't write an author's note. But I feel one is necessary here as an explanation.
As most of you have probably noticed, I haven't updated this or any story for quite some time. There are a lot of reasons for this, most of which relate to my personal life. In between the fresh hell that is the eleventh grade, moving house, trying to get a working internet connection, weddings, funerals, a few family arguments and a lot of crying, I've had a fairly shit time the past four months. The only highlights to this have been the love and support I've received from my dear friends, both in real life and on tumblr, and reading a ton of books.
Writing used to be a creative outlet I loved doing, because it was fun and easy, and the more I wrote the more skill I developed. But as last year's nanowrimo made me realise, I have a long way to go before I can call myself a good writer. Consistently updating a fic has become really hard, and while I still love this and all my other stories, still think about them, still have feelings over the characters and the plotlines I had planned, it has been nearly impossible to sit down and actually write anything for them. Writing has started to make me miserable; the only things I feel comfortable writing are my original stories and a batman fanfiction I started with a friend, most likely because there's no pressure with either.
That being said, I have no intention of abandoning this. It will continue to be updated - I just can't promise that updates will be consistent. However, I have a chapter after this complete, and half a chapter that I plan on finishing tonight. Both should be up by the end of the week. After that there may be a break, hopefully not as long as the last, but quite possibly. I hope you all understand where I'm coming from with this, and I am really sorry it's taken this long.