Cold water splashing on her face made Scarlett jump awake. Instinct had her jumping to defend herself but she couldn't move freely. Shackles bound her wrists and ankles, forcing her to remain upright in the uncomfortable metal chair. Muttering curse words, her left eye stung, swollen and sore. She winced and braced herself for what came next.

At least her nose wasn't broken. She could breathe just fine.

Forcing her swollen eye open, she found herself in a small room with no windows and one flickering overhead light. The door stood behind the impressive hulking figure of the Russian. One of the leaders of MedCo. He crouched in front of her, his gray blue eyes meeting hers. There were two men standing behind her, she could feel their presence.

"You put five of my soldiers in the hospital." His voice was cold. He was definitely more menacing in a tiny interrogation room where she was helplessly strapped to a chair. Because she was. There were straps around her calves, chest, and stomach. That was an awful lot of precaution for little ol' her.

She was flattered.

"I've done better." Scarlett leaned over to wipe her dripping wet nose on her shoulder. Blood smeared on her shirt. Mental note: see a doctor when she got free. "What can I do for you, Mr. Ivanov?" Sarcastic as always.

Standing once more, the Russian stared at her, emotionless, stoic. It was never good when the guy who tied her up was apathetic. Her head was pounding from whatever they'd used to knock her unconscious or maybe the blow to the head. Scarlett braced herself for pain. She'd always been good with it.

"Call me Mikhail, Miss Damien. I think we're far past formalities."

"I'll pass." Scarlett leaned her head back with a heavy sigh. "Is this whole bit to teach me a lesson because it's a waste of time. I'm afraid I stubbornly resist this stuff. Really, I'm saving you time and effort. This is an uphill battle. Trust me."

"Oh? You misunderstand my intentions, little thing. Was it the cold water that gave you mixed signals?" This was not his first rodeo either. Great.

"That and the shackles. Usually a bad sign. Insulated walls to mute the screaming. I guess this could be a kink of yours but I'm afraid you're not my type and trust is a big part of BDSM…" Scarlett talked a big game for someone with no leeway.

"I prefer my women more submissive than you, Miss Damien." Mikhail dragged another chair over and sat down, watching her curiously. She curled her lip at the sound it made dragging on the concrete. "I confess I am fond of you. You've proven yourself to be quite exciting. The others insist you be punished. They even wanted to kill that boyfriend of yours. Scott, yes?"

Scarlett said nothing. They wouldn't get rid of the only leverage they had against her. Not if they wanted her to keep working for them.

Mikhail knew that. He was harder to read than the other two. They were clearly in this for the money. But not Mikhail. No, he was in it for something else. She had the distinct feeling that this was the part that drove him. Scarlett kept herself calm and didn't react. If she didn't act like prey then she wouldn't become it.

"But we both know that wouldn't keep you here. Instead I am left wondering what you hoped to accomplish. You weren't trying to escape because if that were the case, you would have." Mikhail leaned with his elbows on his knees, trying to read her.

"You're right."

"So what were you doing? Why on earth would you sneak further into our facility rather than seek escape?"

"I was bored." Scarlett shrugged. "I'm not good at being told what to do and quite frankly your orders are boring." Much to her surprise, Mikhail laughed. It was a cold, empty laugh.

"Clever." Standing again he turned away from her, folding his arms over his chest.

"I've been told that before." Scarlett didn't see the point in being on the defensive. She was too tired and there was no hope of leverage with the way she was bound. The only plan was to wait for what came next. They needed her and they needed her functional.

"You think that because of your face you can fool us into not seeing the gears turning behind those eyes, hmm? You're brilliant. So you had a motive beyond boredom and you will tell me one way or another, Miss Damien, before your contract is complete."

"Oh, we're still doing that, huh?" The threats were boring too. "I wasn't sure given it's kind of hard to work in these particular conditions…"

"You cannot be trusted."

"That's fair."

"But we still need you to do your work and quickly at that. After all, Mr. Stark is not available to finish it for us."

"Yeah, like he'd be caught dead associating with the likes of you. I imagine it wouldn't really fit in with the Iron Man thing and all the pool parties and bimbos." Scarlett rolled her eyes but then snapped alert when Mikhail got too close. He unshackled her wrists with a small silver key. One by one the bonds were freed. Mikhail gestured to the guards and they coaxed her to her feet, securing her wrists behind her back with handcuffs.

"You're right. This is wasting our time. But don't underestimate me, Miss Damien. I will figure out what you were up to. You are playing a dangerous game. Don't forget what piece you are on the board." He narrowed his eyes. "You have one week to finish your work."

"Pretty sure the contract says four months and we started in June and it is now August so… unless I was unconscious for two months, I'd say someone is bad at math." Scarlett shoved at the guards manhandling her.

"You violated that contract when you put five of my men in the hospital."

"And you didn't violate it when you took me prisoner? When you kidnapped my boyfriend and used him as leverage? I read the contract, none of that was in there. I feel like I need to talk to my lawyer."

"You have one week to complete your work or I will show up in your pathetic little workspace with your precious little boyfriend and I will put a bullet in him right in front of your eyes. Then we'll see how easy it is to finish your work with his corpse rotting alongside you. One week, Miss Damien." He snarled and it was a relief to see him finally show some emotion.

"I feel like you might have a deep misunderstanding of workplace decorum. Is there an HR department?" Scarlett rolled her eyes. "One week. It won't look pretty then." And it was impossible, but she wouldn't say that to someone with no patience left. She sighed and closed her eyes as a soldier approached her with a black bag and covered her head. Like that would stop her from knowing where they were going.

She listened to the sounds and paid attention to the turns and knew exactly where they were. Scarlett had been held in one of the rooms just beyond the hallway where she'd been captured. From there it was easy to know exactly where she was being taken. Her sad excuse for a laboratory. She was handed off to a guard and it was one she recognized.

Relief flooded through her but she didn't let it show. He'd given her vodka and cigarettes. After being ushered inside her prison, the bag was removed. She kept her eyes closed then recoiled as the guard gingerly touched the wound next to her eye.

"Don't. It stings." She glared at him.

"Perhaps needs stitches." He gestured to Scarlett's workbench and when she didn't move he urged her to sit down. He freed her wrists from the handcuffs and she shook them out and rubbed them. Bruised. Naturally.

"No stitches. Just swollen." She leaned away as the guard tried to touch the wound again.

"Do not flinch."

"Don't touch it and I won't flinch."

"One moment." The guard disappeared and Scarlett watched him go. He returned moments later with a first aid kit and she softened. "Now sit still while I fix."

"I'm a dreadful patient. Either squirm too much or don't react which freaks doctors out." Scarlett closed her eyes and let the guard clean the wound. He took care of it, making sure it stayed closed. Scarlett didn't flinch or squirm.

"Thank you." He spoke during the silence of his cleaning.

"What for? You're the one taking care of me." Scarlett was silently weighing her options. She couldn't finish these robotics. They planned on killing her and Scott regardless of what she did so fuck them. So maybe she'd go out in a blaze of glory. These guards had no idea what she was building. They were just hired lackeys. She could build whatever she wanted and fool them into thinking it's what MedCo hired her to do.

It would be unlikely that she'd be able to get to Scott in the chaos she was planning. Even less likely that she'd make it out alive. But she always did like when the odds were against her. It was fun. Mikhail underestimated her even after all that. She'd show him that she knew exactly what part she played in this game.

"For not taking advantage of my kindness."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Scarlett knew what he was talking about. But there was no point in hashing through it. Now all that was left was to wrestle with the guilt of potentially letting the only man on the planet who could love her die. She knew she was a pest. They'd fought about it time and again. He was the only one who would put up with her and look where that got him. She was the worst girlfriend.

"I left you vodka. You only drank, did not use as weapon. I left door unlocked. You climbed out air vent instead."

"Oh? Did you? I didn't notice."

"You did. Thank you."

"Thanks for the vodka. And the cigarettes." Scarlett shifted after he'd finished with her eye.

"What is your name?" He smiled which was surprising. He had a kind smile on a long, haggard face of a man who had worked hard every day of his life.

"Scarlett." She leaned against the work table that was one of her only comforts. As she shifted she felt the pocket knife still in her sock. Really? They hadn't search her? Fools.

"I'm Sergei." He gestured to the door. "I would not risk that again. You are brave but do not be stupid. They have given us orders to shoot with real bullets. Not to kill, just to wound."

"Don't worry, Sergei. I'm not trying that again. I got what I needed." Scarlett knew what she had to do as she stared at the pieces of the robots she'd been procrastinating on assembling. They'd become a shell for the explosives she planned on rigging up.

"But you will be trying something, no?"

"Wouldn't you have to shoot me if I told you?"

"You are big trouble, Scarlett." Sergei stood with a smile and then bowed his head before walking back to the door to return to his post.

"Sergei?" Scarlett started working on the robotic limbs. "Make certain that you're not here at the end of next week, okay?" Sergei didn't respond.

"I feel a tickle in my throat. Perhaps I am coming down with cold." He left her to her work and she sighed with relief. If only she could tell everyone with a conscience and moral compass the same. It would be impossible.

Thankfully she was left with more than enough resources to build what she was planning. Time, however, was not on her side. Sergei allowed her moments of rest along with water and food. But his fellow guards didn't give her same luxury. They prodded her when she slept and stepped in her food or spilled her water with a laugh. She was exhausted. She'd lost weight. Her body hurt. But still she continued with her work.

Seven days passed in a torturous blink. The clock on the wall declared she had three hours left until exactly one week had passed since her conversation with Mikhail. Mid-August she figured. Right around her birthday. Maybe a few days before. Time blurred. Scarlett hummed while she put the finishing touches on her explosive project. It was filled with nails and any other small metallic objects she could get her hands on. The shrapnel would be terrifying.

Hopefully she'd be long gone when they went off. The robotic limbs could move and they would do so after triggered but after ten minutes they'd explode not only with tremendous force but with napalm and shrapnel.

The guard at her door picked up his radio as it went off. He whispered into it and glared at her. Then with sudden urgency he left her cell and didn't even bother closing the door. What the hell? Scarlett stood and peered through the gap in the door. More guards were running toward the entrance, shouting. Something important was going on, something more important than her and her project.

Scarlett returned to her work and put the finishing touches on it. She listened for any clues as to what was happening and then braced herself as the building rocked from an explosion on the other side of it. An explosion that she hadn't set off. What was happening out there? Were they under attack? Dust fell from the ceiling and she looked up nervously.

What were the odds of an attack on the same day that her contract was up? Pretty low, right?

Nothing ever went according to plan and that had never been more apparent than when the building was rocked by a second explosion. She hurried and finished her work and set aside the limbs. The lights flickered and shut off and she was left in haunting silence. Then she heard gunfire. Faint, distant gunfire.

Then the power came back on. The backup generators had kicked in.

"Time to go." She grabbed the ancient flashlight she'd been given for her work. A flimsy plastic thing that barely illuminated the darkness. Then she grabbed the pocket knife she had hidden beneath the table. It was the only weapon she had.

And if she wasn't going to get the chance to hand these limbs over to MedCo then she'd have to find a secondary manner of triggering the explosion. She recovered the half empty bottle of vodka that Sergei left her with and set it on the table. She hummed and then shoved one of the greasy rags she'd been using that week inside far enough for it to touch the liquor. Scarlett took a breath. Molotov cocktails sucked. Yeah, they looked pretty in movies but they were unpredictable and dangerous. That and sometimes liquor didn't like to catch fire. It was wet and not all liquor was created equal. This wasn't 151, it was cheap vodka.

And all that was before it actually caught fire. Fire didn't discriminate. It just consumed. But what other choice did she have?

"Should have taken a shot for good luck. Oh well." She looked over the limbs once more. Of all the ways she thought she'd die, she never expected it to be while trapped under the thumb of a Stark Industries funded terrorist organization. She definitely hadn't predicted Scott would be caught in the crossfire either.

She pulled out the matches that she'd been given by Sergei for her cigarettes and struck one. She held the flame before her eyes. Her blueprints wouldn't help anyone after this.

"You're a disaster. Don't you ever get tired of destroying everything you touch?" She watched the flame flicker and then set her blueprints alight, watching the paper curl in on itself. "I guess not."

Just as she was preparing to light the molotov, the door flung open and she turned at once.

"Miss Damien!" Glasses entered the room holding an electric lantern. He looked her over, his usually neat brown hair a chaotic mess. He had dirt all over him. Then he saw that she was burning the blueprints and she stepped in front of what remained to block him. He set down the lantern. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Erick Reno, one of the three heads of MedCo, was furious.

"What's going on out there?" She gestured to him. Erick shoved her aside and stomped on the papers but Scarlett knocked him away, insisting they burned. She pulled the knife and made to flip it open but the sound of a gun cocking stopped her in her tracks.

"You little bitch! This is your fault! You double crossed us! What did you do? How did you do it? Who did you manage to call? How did you manage to call anyone?" Erick waved the gun at her angrily. A man holding a gun who didn't know how to use a gun was way more dangerous than one who did. He hadn't seen the blade so she concealed it in her palm. "Hands where I can see them! Come on!" He waved the gun again and she held her hands up. Now was not the time to get shot. The building shook behind them again.

"Double crossed?" Scarlett furrowed her brow. "Does that make it a quadruple cross when you double cross the person who double crossed you? Like I have some loyalty or something to you. You kidnapped my boyfriend, beat me, starved me, and forced me to build something against my will. Pretty sure there wasn't any assumed loyalty in any of this. Foolish, assumption, really."

"Shut up! Shut up!" Erick's eyes flashed with rage and he looked down to the burnt smoldering remains of her blueprints. They were destroyed.

"Calm down. Jesus." Scarlett rolled her eyes and then grunted as Erick grabbed a handful of her messy hair and shoved her back against the desk. Her feet nearly slid from under her and she scrambled to regain her footing. He held the gun against her side, slipping it beneath her worn, filthy tank top.

"Don't you dare talk back to me, bitch." He hissed in her ear. His eyes darted down to her chest. She didn't like that. Nope. This was all very bad. Then he reached for one of the limbs on the table. Uh oh.

"Careful…" She hissed and grimaced as Erick shoved the gun harder against her side. Knife still in hand, Scarlett waited while the head of MedCo was distracted with her work. They looked nothing like the original plans. Even a moron like Erick Reno would realize she hadn't given them what they wanted. It was unlikely he suspected they'd become bombs though either.

"What is this?" Erick threw the arm back into the pile and something clicked in all of them. Scarlett and Erick stared at the pile.

"That was supposed to be silent." Scarlett whispered. Then she was dragged by her hair and thrown to the ground. Her body was so tired. She rolled onto her back so she could keep her eyes on the head of MedCo but he hunched over her, aiming the pistol between her eyes. She leaned on her elbows, flipping the knife open and hiding the blade with her palm. Erick's hands were shaking and he aimed the gun instead at her chest.

"What did you do? What the hell have you done? You betrayed us! What did you build? What did you do?" He was spitting with rage and crawling closer to her.

The metal of the gun touched her chest just above the cut of her shirt and she didn't back down though her heart was racing with fear. There would be no dodging a bullet with the gun this close to her. She'd end up dead. This was a very dangerous game.

"I built what you asked me to build but you didn't give me enough time." She lied.

"Who did you call?" He snarled, eyes looking her over again.

"Did you really think I'd do what you asked me to do? Did you really think that my boyfriend was worth building you technology that will kill thousands? Are you that stupid? There's nothing that would make me do such a vile thing."

"You selfish bitch, you whore!" He snarled, shaking his head in disbelief. "You'd let him die? Others die? Just so you can have the last laugh?"

The clock was ticking on those bombs. This had to end fast. She had to find a way to get the gun out of his hands without getting shot and before the building went up in flames. It was now or never.

"You're coming with me. And by the time we meet up with the others, you'll wish you were dead." He moved the gun up and away for a split second so he could grab her hair again and Scarlett struck. She headbutted him as hard as she could and he cursed and stumbled back, letting go of her hair. In a flash, she grabbed his wrist and a shot fired just to her left, whizzing past her ear.

"Should have done your research, asshole!" Scarlett hissed and shoved his arm away from her then she flipped the knife in her hand and plunged it deep into his chest, pulled her legs free, and kicked him right next to the wound. Erick howled in pain, flailing, then tried to pull the knife free. Scarlett leapt to her feet, kicked him to the ground and then stepped on his hand hard enough to force him to drop the gun. She grasped the gun but froze as Erick spoke. The static of a radio made her heart stop.

"Kill him." And that was the end of Scott. Erick pulled the blade from his chest and curled his lip at her. "You're too late, Scarlett."

She held the gun at the ready and pulled the trigger. "It's Miss Damien." She shot him between the eyes. Blood splattered and as he fell to the ground, dead, she checked his pulse. Then she took the knife, wiped the blade on his shirt, folded it, and put it in her pocket. She took the bottle of vodka, stepped over the bloodied corpse of Erick Reno and rushed out of the basement prison.

There was no resistance in the halls. The soldiers weren't inside anymore. The building shook and she crouched when she reached the stairwell. They'd evacuated. Whatever was happening was happening fast. She was running out of time. Unwilling to give up on Scott so easily, she rushed through the building and down long familiar pathways until she reached the big doors that would lead to the loading dock.

There were voices outside, shouting orders. Shoving open the door she felt resistance and watched as a soldier fell to the ground. There were other soldiers standing nearby and each of them turned toward her. They readied their weapons in a panic, not prepared for her. She quickly struck her final match, lit the greasy cloth that caught and spread fire quickly. Then she threw the bottle to the ground just in front of the soldiers. The glass shattered and alcohol sprayed along their legs and the fire chased it.

The soldiers screamed and that was her chance. Scarlett ran through the loading dock until she reached the maintenance room with the secret door. She was prepared to break the door down but found it was wide open. Hurrying down the sterile hall, she kicked open doors to her left and right. There was the interrogation room. Then there were computer rooms, weapons storage, and then at the end of the hall there was a door labeled 'Biohazard'.

Then there was heat and she was thrown backwards by an explosion. Scarlett held up her arms and braced herself as she crashed to the floor and was slid backwards. Shrapnel then flew overhead and much of the building collapsed around her. She wasn't pinned but she didn't have long. She hurried onto her hands and knees and rushed from beneath the little roof that remained.

The startlingly bright sky of the African desert was blinding and combined with the dirt that had been kicked up with the explosions it was impossible to see. Her eyes were burning.

On her feet, she stumbled and her right leg nearly gave out underneath her. She cursed and looked down at a six inch piece of shrapnel sticking out of her thigh. She didn't feel it but she couldn't put much weight on it either. That and her jeans were steaming? Something had splashed on her. Something bad. Biohazard. Great.

Her ears were ringing and her head was swimming but she forced herself forward through the dirt and tried to put distance between her and the explosions.

"Can't give up now." Scarlett had to keep going. She'd made it this far. She could do this. But the pain in her leg was only muted by adrenaline for a moment before it was so bad that she could barely walk. Her leg finally gave out and she collapsed in the sand. Cringing, she winced as the sand stung at the wound. Rolling onto her back she leaned up to look at how bad it was. But then an eerie silence fell over the desert.

"Fuck." She knew what was coming next. Scarlett turned onto her stomach and covered her ears. It'd been ten minutes. The blast was deafening and far more devastating than she'd planned it to be. Somewhere in that building Scott's body remained, a bullet in his head. She hoped he hadn't felt any pain. All he'd done was protect and love her just to be destroyed by a woman he knew was destructive.

Remaining on the ground until the world stopped shaking, Scarlett rolled onto her back only to find herself face to face with a bloodied MedCo soldier. He was badly burned but held a gun in his shaking hand. Scarlett reached for her own gun but she'd lost it in one of the explosions. "Come on." She whined. Behind the soldier she could see the outline of the skeleton of the destroyed MedCo building through the dust and smoke.

There was more gunfire and shouting in the distance. A battle raged on and it seemed awfully one-sided. Scarlett sat up and reached for the knife in her pocket but the soldier pointed the gun at her more aggressively. "Hands up!" He shouted and she barely heard it over the ringing in her ears and the chaos. Her head was splitting. It felt like there was an ax in her skull. Throwing her hands up in frustration, she realized now was the moment. This was the end. If MedCo took her alive she'd be a slave. There was no chance of escape now. Not so badly wounded.

"You'll have to kill me." Her voice reverberated in her ears and darkness crept in on her vision. She got to her feet and he shouted a warning again.

"Stay where you are!"

"Kill me! Shoot me! Do it! Now!" She ordered.

The soldier considered it, then tilted his head as if listening to an order through an earpiece.

"You have a contract to fulfill. You will beg for death again before it is over."

Scarlett felt suddenly hopeless. She'd rather be dead than a prisoner of a terrorist organization. Withering until there was nothing left of her. If he wouldn't kill her, then she'd do it herself.

But before she could get the knife out of her pocket there was a brilliant blast of blue and white light that blinded her. The guard in front of her rocketed backwards and Scarlett stared in awe. She searched for the source, limping on her bad leg. And in the chaos she hadn't heard the gunshot.

But the pain? That she felt.

A bullet had torn through her side and she looked down at her tank top and watched as blood saturated it quickly. She grasped her side to try and stem the bleeding and hurried over to where the guard lay dead. Prying the gun from his hand, she started away from the building again, stumbling all over herself.

It was too much.

Blood loss, pain, this burn on her leg, the malnourishment, the exhaustion. Scarlett didn't stand a chance. Adrenaline could only do so much. At least it'd gotten her this far. With a shout, she fell to the ground as her right leg collapsed beneath her again. There was a great rushing overhead like a low flying plane. She pushed herself up with a struggle from the sand but collapsed again from the weight of her wounds.

Barely, she caught sight of something red and gold before unconsciousness took her, leaving her lying bleeding in the desert sand.