There was an awful split second of a moment she believed the projectile would hit them. They both just seemed to stand there. Mallory started forwards, unsure of what she was going to do, maybe wrench the launcher from the Soldier's hands so he couldn't fire again or scream for them to move.

Then the Captain pushed Natasha who was standing right beside him, and she hightailed it to the right, her powerful legs carrying her as fast as they could to clear the blast radius. The Captain had no time so he raised his shield and the projectile impacted upon the metal. The shield was damn near indestructible but the energy wasn't absorbed all too well, as the Captain was thrown over the edge of the highway onto the road below. A second later, she heard the crash and shattering of glass, a truck beeping and then a collision of two vehicles. Mallory ran to the edge of the highway as the men began filing out of the green van and witnessed a bus turned on its side and injured people groaning, cries for help and screams of civilians.

Mallory was caught in the midst of it all and she wasn't even aware what was going on really. Why was the Soldier trying to kill two people who were meant to be custody? Where was Rumlow, the STRIKE agents? Why had Pierce, a government sanctioned official heading a powerful organization with teams that specialized in this type of things, using mercenaries to capture two S.H.I.E.L.D agents?

It didn't add up. It never added up. But right now there was injured people down on the floor and Mallory needed to get down there to help. She recalled Pierce mentioning that they'd be casualties but not on this scale; how could she treat all of the survivors with a simple bag? And she actually needed to get down there. She'd noticed the men had climbing equipment but until they used it there was no way she could get down there without seriously injuring herself. And if she doubled back down onto the highway, that would eat into valuable time for the survivors.

Feeling powerless, she turned back to the scene in front of her. The men lead by the Soldier were raining a storm of bullets upon the driver and the Widow, who had both ran for cover behind cars that had been abandoned by civilians. The Widow was firing back, but her gun seemed miniscule compared to the massive assault rifles the men were carrying. They quickly destroyed the vehicle the driver was hiding behind, forcing him to look for cover elsewhere.

The Soldier cocked his gun and continued walking, steadying his aim and firing another projectile towards Natasha. She jumped over the ramp onto the next lane and ran into the path of oncoming cars, which she rolled and tucked to avoid. Mallory's breath was caught in her throat as she stood behind the line of men and the Soldier. The men followed her with the barrels of her weapons, she being the priority target now that Steve was down below and immobilized and the driver not being on the list of people to exterminate. Sheets of bullets followed Nat wherever she went. She ran down the highway into the path of a silver car, and the Soldier calculated this and fired another projectile to blow it up. Mallory started forwards again, nervously peering into the fog to see if she was still there or down on the ground. When the smoke cleared, she was gone.

The Soldier, face still unreadable, lowered his weapon and walked down the line of men, accepting their gift of a smaller assault rifle. He walked over to the edge of the highway, anticipating that Natasha had been smart enough to survive and scanned through the barrel this way and that as a semi sort of silence fell across the air. Mallory peered over the edge as well, her eyes calculating survivors on the bus crash and seeing how people were helping each other free themselves from the debris. A few people were attempting to contact the authorities on their cells but found no signal. Mallory guessed Pierce had pulled his authoritative weight and gotten cell towers switched off.

A bullet came out of nowhere, shocking Mallory into pulling back from the edge. It hit the intended target, the Soldier in the face. If it weren't for the glasses and mask, he'd be seriously hurt. Mallory peered over the edge and saw Natasha had used the shadows to get herself into a prime position to shoot at the Soldier, catching him off guard. A master assassin indeed. She fired more times, but the Soldier had ducked and tossed his broken glasses across the highway. The sight of his eyes, murderous rage but also determination, scared Mallory even more. He moved quicker then she'd ever seen him, and fired a volley of bullets down below, not really aiming anywhere.

Natasha had covered herself again, and fired back as he reloaded. This time, he aimed with more proficiency and hit the car beside her hoping the bullets would ricochet. Natasha then took a moment and Mallory saw recognition in her eyes; amongst the men in black, Mallory didn't really stand out as she was wearing black and she'd tied her hair into a bun. From a distance she'd look like one of them. But now she had realized that Mallory was part of the men and Mallory saw hurt and confusion mingling across her features in the sun. Mallory approached the barrier apologetically, hoping to shout something down when the men suddenly joined in to the Soldier's assault and Natasha decided to move.

He said something to the man beside him but Mallory could only hear the language filtered through his mask. Then he hopped over the balcony and landed calmly onto the car below before swaggering across the road. The men exchanged some glances, Mallory stared.

The men began to get their own climbing equipment ready, anchoring themselves in the car behind them. Mallory found the driver who had crashed the blue vehicle, as he smoked a cigarette and readied his own climbing gear.

"I'm coming down with you." She commanded, walking forwards to grab the man on the arm. He shook her off, laughing.

"No, no, you stay up here-"

She was overwhelmed, with anger and a desire to save the people down there that she grabbed his forearm harder, squeezing his skinny bicep through his thick jacket and squeezed. He yelped and she nipped harder, causing him to squeal in a way that was unbecoming of a man of his size, look and stature.

"There are people down there that need my help! If you don't drop me with you, so help me God I will throw myself over that barrier to get to them."

He sized her up, trying to guess if she was bluffing or not. She wasn't crazy – of course she wouldn't jump over the freeway barrier and plunge to certain death. But apparently she was looking so wild eyed, and so earnest that he stubbed his cigarette out under his thick heels and grumbled something in Russian before anchoring his cleaver in the car and unwinding the thick black rope.

"Stay close to me and for Chrissake don't move"

He approached her quickly, attaching the rope to a hidden hook around his waist and then suddenly grabbed her. She yelped, struggling with him momentarily as a cloud of cigarette smoke and dirt enveloped her with his grip.

"I'm sure I don't have to be that close to you." Mallory groaned.

The man laughed. "Safety first."

He approached the edge then stepped up to stand on it. As he wrenched her to his level and clasped her to his chest, she realized about a millisecond before he was going to do it what he was going to do. Regret stabbed her in the heart. She had a second to judge the distance and a thought of oh my god it's so high why is it so high flashed through her mind before he grunted, circled her waist with his arm and jumped.

They were in freefall. She tightened her arms around his neck, her grip on both him and her medical bag turning her knuckles white, and burrowed her face into the cracked leather and smell of smoke so she wouldn't see the world pass by in a blur. The sensation of having nothing flat and stable supporting your feet was like going a roller coaster with your legs dangling out – a sickening feeling of impending death and pure fear covering you in a cold sweat. The rope whirred as it passed through the hook and she was afraid it would keep going to not absorb any of the impact.

Then suddenly it tightened and pulled them back up slightly, taking their weight as they hit the ground. It still hurt, but the shock was absorbed by her boots and the sturdiness of the soles allowed only the slightest discomfort to pass through her. She yanked herself away from him immediately, and took off running towards the bus to help people.

It was a bad idea, as seconds later the men came down and began firing on the bus as if they were intending to kill civilians. Mallory yelped and swore loudly, and dived for cover behind it amidst shards of glass and trails of blood, her bag filled with useful and expensive utensils abandoned in the middle of the road to become target practice for the men. Fuck. She backed up against the metal in fear and found herself debating whether to not to pull the handgun out of the cache. She swore again and kicked at the bus, venting her growing frustration at her own stupid nice nature when suddenly the whir of what sounded like a lawn mower began and some idiot fired a volley of high intensity bullets from a massive gun.

Mallory had to move otherwise she'd become mincemeat in seconds. Civilians that were still caught in the crossfire were running up the road, so Mallory swallowed fear and hesitation and took off after them.

Glass shattered and she glanced over her shoulder as she ran, seeing the blur of a man rolling on the tarmac and brandishing a shield painted with the colours of the American flag. Steve. She stopped running and turned, wondering if she could offer the Captain any useful advice to defeat the men when she realized she was with them. He wouldn't trust her. And anyway, he was adept on his own. He ran towards the man with the big lawn mower gun and flipped over his head, smashing the mans face against the windshield. Mallory found a smile dripping onto her face – the Captain could defeat anybody – but it disappeared almost immediately when she noticed a young boy around four or five years old in the middle of the road wailing for his mother with a large gash on his forehead.

Mallory ran forwards with no hesitation, still panting from her previous attempt to sprint up the road and grabbed the boy. He wailed as her arms encircled him, her arms tightening instinctively around him as she ran up the road. She felt better at the sight of a police car screeching towards her but the satisfaction was brief as someone fired a projectile at it, blowing it up.

The sky rained with debris and she put the boy down, shielding his body with her own from the heat of the flames and the smoke. As she turned, she saw the familiar sight of the Soldier swaggering up the highway reloading the grenade launcher filled her with anger. He could've killed the boy. He could've killed her.

His eyes were free to gaze at her critically. "Get out of here before you get hurt." He hissed at her, and amidst the noise of the gunfire and screams of civilians she could hear him perfectly.

"You almost killed us! Stop!"

He ignored her, passing the burning police car and her and the boy as if he hadn't seen them. Mallory's eyes burned and teared up with smoke – at least that's what she was sticking with. The boy wailed suddenly, so she knelt to his level.

"What's your name?" She kept her tone light and airy, cupping his face and turning it to her so he wouldn't look at the flames or the charred corpse of the driver.

He was a mess, hiccuping and sobbing, a dirtied face and a worrying gash across his forehead. "A-Andrew."

She had dealt with frightened children before, on her shifts in the emergency unit. Their mothers drilled into them about the dangers of talking to strange people but also that people with authority – doctors, or nurses or policemen – were good and helped fight the bad people. It was easy to soothe a child who was screaming about his broken leg but usually their mothers were right beside them for the consultation. But this was a little different. How could she soothe a child who was so worryingly injured and heartbreakingly upset who had lost his parents either because they were dead or they had ran off and accidentally abandoned him?

She smoothed back his hair and smiled. "Hi Andrew. I'm Mallory, okay? I'm a doctor. I'm gonna help you find your mom, okay?"

He could barely speak due to his choking sobs. "S-she said for me to stay there but the men were s-shooting-"

"Andrew?"

The child focused on her, and nodded once.

"Andrew, your mom is not going to be angry with you, okay? She will completely understand." The child nodded again, a half-sob breaking through his throat. "I will find your mom. I just need you to do everything I say. You have to be brave. Can you be brave for me?"

He hesitated, glancing frightened at the fire, then nodded. She swallowed tightly and attempted a smile, before standing and taking his sweaty hand to start running through the streets. She dragged him to the footpath, as civilians slip streamed past them and ran ahead. People abandoned their cars as the sight of the Soldier with his gun raised caused fear. He was in his world, on the hunt for an unsuspecting Romanoff who seemed to have vanished in midair.

As the Soldier slowed Mallory tried to keep ahead of him on the footpath, continually glancing back to see if he had changed course. He knelt by a large car – Mallory slowed on the sidewalk and peered at him. What was he doing?

A small silver ball rolled its way towards the footpath near Mallory and when she peered at the cars rims, she saw a phone playing an audio file of Romanoff speaking. She hid a smile. Natasha would have to teach her how to think like that on the spot.

Then she remembered the gadget – a David invention, a small and powerful explosion and grabbed Andrew's hand, hauling him down the footpath. Seconds as they cleared the blast, the silver ball erupted into flame and sent the leftovers of the car into the air. Heat licked the back of her neck, and she heard Andrew yelp with surprise as the ground rumbled and shook. Mallory looked back and saw Romanoff had made an appearance, grappling with the Soldier against a car, her legs locked around him.

As no cars were coming down the road, Mallory pulled Andrew into the road and they slowed to a jog as most of the shooters were still behind them. People were still panicking, racing past her in blind fear. She asked Andrew his surname, and started calling his name amongst the noise and hysteria of the crowds.

"Andrew Wright!" She hoped she was yelling loud enough for people to hear. "Andrew Wright!"

"MOM! DAD!" The boy added his own yells, clasping Mallory's hand tightly and using his free hand to wipe the blood that was dripping on his nose. Mallory stopped him and tore a cuff off his long sleeves, wiping the thick blood off and checking to see if any debris had entered the wound.

People had gathered where the highway melted into the city, and amongst the screaming others were calling out names. It seemed the best place to try and find his parents, as Mallory guessed they couldn't of gone far. In the distance, she could sirens, ambulances and police hopefully. She hoped the death toll wouldn't be too high. She hoped the little boy could find him mom.

"Andrew Wright!"

A woman approached the pair, graying hair wearing filthy white trousers and torn flowery blouse. She looked shaken but seemed relatively unharmed.

"Andy?"

At the sound of her voice, the boy looked around then freed himself from Mallory, running towards the woman and jumping. The woman caught him, starting to sob incoherently. A man in a blue polo shirt approached the pair and hugged them. Mallory smiled, pleased to have reunited the family when the father assessed their rescuer and noticed Mallory dressed like the shooters and carrying a gun. Her face fell, as he placed himself in front of his family protectively and began to yell.

"No! I'm not with them-" But she was. Just because she hadn't actually fired a round didn't mean she wasn't with them. She had come with them and knew what they were going to do and had the means to stop it. The boy was beginning to droop healthwise and it was her fault. Pierce had said that the civilian population was going to be injured and despite her reluctance to partake in such an activity she had still gone along with it.

"Stay away from my son!" The woman declared tearfully, before taking her son and rushing off through the crowd. The husband spat at her feet, and followed.

Tears stung in her eyes, a shallow phrase of sorrow curtailed on her lips. I was only trying to help. She was weighed down, with guilt and apologies that she'd never get to say. This was all her fault.

A clang of metal brought her back to her senses. Before she knew it, she had unclasped the catch on her handgun and had it in her hands, moving back the way she came and zigzagging between the cars until she spotted the Soldier, doing battle with the Captain. Gunshots filtered into her hearing, and she broke into a sprint as she headed to their battlefield.

A groan alerted her to Natasha, slumped by a car, having been shot by the Soldier. Mallory clasped the handgun back to her thigh and knelt by the redhead.

"Who- what-" She was confused, dazed, shocked. Mallory swore and sweeped her hair away from her face, assessing the wound. The bullet had plugged the majority of the blood in limiting the blood loss but a trickle was still staining her skin red.

"It's Mallory." She attempted a weak smile. "I won't be able to do much but I can keep you awake till the ambulance arrives."

Natasha shook her head with determination, then groaned. "I need to – oh fuck it didn't hurt like this last time – get him."

Then with the mention of the Soldier, Natasha suddenly tried to get up then suddenly groaned again.

"Nat, you're gonna make it worse-"

"You were with him." She said suddenly. "On the bridge. I saw you."

Mallory's mouth opened and closed, and she tried to help Natasha to sit down again.

"I- uh… Pierce said he was only going to arrest you. He didn't say anything about -" Mallory gestured around, to the burning cars, the smoldering ruins of the road and the crying of civilians. "- this."

Natasha looked at her, her green eyes ablaze with absolute fury then said with a sudden realization, "You're HYDRA. You belong to HYDRA, don't you? That's why you have direct contact with Pierce, and why I couldn't find you on the database. You're one of them."

"There is no them and us, Nat. HYDRA is part of S.H.I.E.L.D-"
"Are you stupid? Are you seriously that stupid? God." Natasha laughed harshly, then glared at her. "Did no one tell you? HYDRA are the enemy. You are the enemy."

Tears stung her once again, and Mallory found herself with a sinking dread agreeing with her.

"I don't- I didn't know, I- Nat please let me help you-"

"Get the hell out of here, before I kill you."

"Nat-"
"I mean it Mallory!"

She believed it. She believed it intensely, that Natasha would kill her for being a part of HYDRA. And although she had sworn an oath to stay with those who needed help, and although she was intensely frightened Natasha's wound would become septic and she'd die, she got up and left her.

She saw the Soldier and the Captain having an evenly matched and high paced fight. She was useless. This was useless. She backed away, following the fight with intensity wondering who had the upper hand if anyone had the upper hand when Steve flipped the Soldier onto the ground.

Of course he landed on his feet. But a small black thing lay on the ground; his mask. His mask had fallen. Mallory stepped forward, squinting. Steve could've easily had the Soldier dead as he steadied himself but it seemed the Captain was eager to finally face his adversary in the eyes. The Soldier turned to face the Captain.

And instead of charging for him, the Captain turned on his side and utter shock laced his genetically enhanced features. Shock that she had never seen. He had turned white, as if he'd seen a ghost. His mouth moved, saying something to the Soldier.

And the Soldier said something back, stepping forwards to attack when out of nowhere something put him on his ass.

A man, the driver from the bridge who now adorned giant mechanical wings – Mallory was too tired and too confused to react with shock – landed and surveyed the area around them. The Soldier got to his feet and hesitated. What? He didn't hesitate with Kohl nor Oswick nor Fury. Hesitation didn't fit his bill – before firing a round. The Captain stood like an idiot, his face whiter then paper and raised his shield at the last second before the shot bounced. Mallory lowered her head as if she was being fired at, and ducked for cover near a van.

And then out of nowhere, a projectile was fired that exploded the car the Soldier was standing near. Mallory curved her body further into the van, and looked over the top when the smoke had cleared. The Soldier was gone, Natasha looked dead on her feet with a grenade launcher, the man with the wings was eyeing the Captain uneasily.

And the Captain stood like a statue staring at the spot the Soldier had been in as if he had lost something that was dear to him. Mallory circled the van and began to hear sirens approach steadily in the distance, blue lights flashing indicating the STRIKE team. Finally.

Mallory watched as the cars encircled the hunted two and their winged friend, and various STRIKE members brandishing rifles approached the three.

"Drop the shield, Cap. Get on your knees!" A familiar voice distinguished itself from the rest and a STRIKE agent approached the Captain with a handgun. A man with tanned skin, hazel eyes in STRIKE fatigues surveyed the area and went to arrest the Captain.

Rumlow. Her fists tightened, sheer rage turning her vision red and resetting all evolutionary links since the dawn of man to primal instincts. She unclasped the catch on her handgun and raised it with every intent to shoot at his feet and call him out on his bullshit in front of his entire crew despite her earlier in the day begging her dad not to mention that she knew. Then a STRIKE agent kicked her calf from behind and she fell on her knees, her gun clattering to the floor uselessly as her hands were pinned behind her back.

This battle was over. But the war was ongoing.

A/N: As you all know, the original chapter 14 was way too long. In my documents, it was 20 pages long. That is far too long for me to edit, and probably far too long for you to read in one sitting. So, I've broken it up in two parts. I should've done this at publication, but to be honest I just didn't think