Echoes

"This is exactly what they want." Scarlett whispered as she leaned against the wall near the café. S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents were still moving around left and right but no one paid her any mind. Scarlett walked into the café and grabbed a dark hat from the supply table and pulled it on, tucking her braid into the back of her jacket. Quickly she wiped any blood away from her face and checked her reflection quickly in the mirror.

MedCo was counting on her being afraid, counting on her acting to protect the people she cared about. They had counted on her being there that night even when S.H.I.E.L.D. had suspected they would think just the opposite. She'd gone into the building knowing she was bait, trusting S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence to think that she would be unexpected.

Instead MedCo had known she'd come, they had known she'd come and they had set a trap for her with Scott. They'd set a trap for her with Natasha. And then when finally they'd overcome both of those obstacles, they'd killed Marcia, their only lead. If MedCo was willing to kill those who ran the damn company, then what lengths wouldn't they go to? They were going to die playing by the rules. Every one of them and Scarlett would have to watch helpless until finally that stupid poison killed her too. Either way, Scott seemed to be winning.

They wanted Scarlett to lose control of her emotions, to feel broken, to blame herself. Every word they'd said tonight had been designed to play on her guilt. Was it so obvious to everyone how guilty she truly felt for dragging them down with her? She thought she'd hid it pretty well to everyone except for Jinx but god she must have stunk of it. Scarlett shoved her hands into her pockets for a moment and stared through the window of the café.

She had to do something.

It had to be something MedCo didn't expect, something S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't dictate. She knew if she stuck around too long here in the safe zone someone from S.H.I.E.L.D. would force her to go see Dr. Ganter. He was nice enough, he meant well, but Scarlett didn't need a doctor, not now. She needed to blow off some steam and she needed to let MedCo know that they were messing with the wrong woman.

They expected her to feel guilty, to be sick and shrink into herself. MedCo expected Scarlett to drive herself mad and eventually forfeit her free will to save her friends.

They didn't, however, expect her to get so damn angry.

For someone who had been living with Scarlett for years, Scott sure had forgotten about her relentless temper.

She wouldn't linger in the safe zone long enough for S.H.I.E.L.D. to send her to a doctor but she wouldn’t give up the fight yet either. The night was still young, there was time still yet to kill. She could catch a flight home to Malibu and by the time anyone figured out what she had done they wouldn't be able to pin it on her.

Scarlett pulled the thumb drive out of her pocket and turned it over in her hands. She had planned to give it back to Natasha. But now Natasha was quarantined and possibly on her way to death's door. Scarlett would do this for Natasha instead.

She walked behind the counter of the café to the laptop that Natasha had earlier abandoned. Placing her hands on the side of it she caressed the screen and then allowed it to come to life. Password protected, yeah like that would stop her. Scarlett didn't want S.H.I.E.L.D. records anyway, she simply wanted the USB port so she could read the drive. Snatching a wire from beneath the counter, Scarlett plugged her phone into computer and then easily, from the screen of her phone, overrode whatever encryption they had on the device so that she could use her phone as the primary input. Then she slipped the thumb drive in place and waited for it to load.

The data very quickly and easily copied onto her phone. Scarlett at once disconnected any link to S.H.I.E.L.D. that she may have had with Jinx or anyone else at that point. They wouldn't need to know what she was doing. So far listening to S.H.I.E.L.D. had done nothing but cause her aggravation and put Nathan in harm's way. Hands shaking, Scarlett disconnected her phone, pulled free the thumb drive and then left the computer as she had found it. Then she returned to the supply table, nodded to another S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent before taking a combat knife and some more ammunition for then gun Mickey had given her.

Then she left the safe zone, hat pulled low to block her face. Slowly she walked the streets of Manhattan, blending in at street corners, ignoring conversation of the chaos that was blocking off the entire theater district. It was surprisingly crowded for a place that had just suffered a terrorist attack.

Scarlett browsed the files on her phone. The encryption had been easy enough to get through, at least for her. Scarlett deftly weaved through groups of pedestrians, through crowds and stopped near a hot dog stand already crowded by people, ignoring the offer for food from the man behind the stand, holding her hand up to deny him.

It was a list of contacts. Simple enough until she read further on underneath each contact. It was a web of contacts, an extensive web listed by country and then city. Each contact had a number and a location and the supposed connection they had with MedCo. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of organizations, dangerous organizations that had gotten into bed with MedCo one way or another. For what felt like forever Scarlett read name after name of company, gang, terrorist cell, that had worked with MedCo and to what capacity, whether it was confirmed or suspected. This had to be a list obtained by Clint under cover.

Scarlett felt queasy, for a moment she thought she could collapse so she leaned against the stone wall of the building behind her and took slow deep breaths, holding her phone still in front of her face to divert curious passersby. The cough was building up again in her chest, it hadn't bothered her as much as she had thought it would that night. This was a different cling though, this was anxiety. Did MedCo really have roots that ran this deeply? How would anything she did ever make a dent in such an organization? Still it would be a failure if she didn't try. If she could at least collapse the corporation at its core then that would be the end.

She wanted to send a message, that was right. It was all she needed to do. MedCo needed to know that they hadn't won that night. If they took away the only source they'd obtained that night, Scarlett would find another. She'd thought about it. MedCo wouldn't want to be detected until they were already underway with their attacks. She could only imagine what the news media was reporting about the attacks. Scarlett flipped through the list again until she got to Manhattan.

Someone had to have supplied them with guns, with knives, with the means to create the bombs that had distracted S.H.I.E.L.D. and the one that posed the worst threat in the attic. Someone had to supply them with body armor. There were a number of names in Manhattan, to which Scarlett wasn't surprised. The city was relatively safe but it was so populated that these groups could easily hide within the abundance of people.

She would go to the closest contact. There would be no hesitation. It didn't matter whether or not they were involved, Scarlett didn't care. They worked with MedCo, the likelihood that they had supplied them with weapons and explosives was pretty great. It would send a message, that was for damn sure. Someone was going to pay for what had happened tonight and every time they did something like that someone else would continue to pay.

Finally able to take deep breaths, she released the tension in her shoulders, in her neck. This was what she did best, she had to remind herself of that. For awhile she'd gotten comfortable being Scarlett, CEO of Refuge, leader of the technological community. But tonight she would go back to her roots and she would finally mark a win in her corner. The last thing Scarlett did was check the map of the subway system before she put her phone on mute and shoved it in her pocket.

Then she walked down the street and into the subway station. The ride in the subway car was a big blur for Scarlett. Before she knew it she was walking down the streets of Manhattan, then standing in front of the building known to be a hideout for a terrorist cell. She'd done some of the reading on the files she'd stolen from Natasha on the ride over, or she thought she did. Either way she knew now that they were notorious for weapons smuggling and apparently had some kind of deal with people who worked in US Customs so they could smuggle weapons in freighters.

She circled the old warehouse. It looked abandoned from the front steps but as she walked around the sides she could hear voices, maybe a handful of them through the window. That was all she needed to know. There were people in there, they wanted it to look like there wasn't. If she walked inside and no one knew what she was talking about she would march right back out like she'd never been there.

But deep down Scarlett knew they were in there. These men, these women had supplied Scott with weapons, had helped him get to her, to chase her, to hurt innocent people. Never again. They'd made the calculated choice to help those who had no other intention than to cause harm and they would pay the price.

Never once before had Scarlett had to justify what she was about to do. It went to show what a changed woman she'd become. The job had been her reason, whoever had hired her had been the reason. Today there was a different reason.

She could have crept in silently, she could spend the next hour listening and deciphering how many people were inside the warehouse. But she didn't want to.

"Fuck it." She walked to the front door of the building and knocked. It was all or nothing now.

The door creaked open and a man's face appeared. He took one look at her and decided she was harmless and opened the door wider. His mistake.

With a swift punch Scarlett broke the man's nose and he stumbled backwards in alarm, cursing under his breath. He reached for a radio on his belt but Scarlett had a gun at once aimed at his chest.

"What is it you want?" His Russian accent was light but was still there. Scarlett clenched her jaw and kept her hat low.

"How'd the job for MedCo go down tonight?" Scarlett watched his face and saw recognition of the name at once. From the corner of her eye she caught his hand reaching toward the holster on his hip. Artfully Scarlett pulled the knife from beneath her jacket where she'd hid it and stabbed the blade as deep as it would go into his shoulder. He shouted in pain and hunched over to try and grab the blade and pull it free.

Around the corner to her left another man came, rushing. As he pulled his gun, Scarlett turned hers and shot him in the foot. He stumbled and leaned against the wall but aimed his weapon so Scarlett shot him in the head and he collapsed in a bloodied heap against the wall.

"God damnit…" The man in front of her pulled the knife free of his shoulder with a grunt and then turned the blade in his hand and rushed toward her sloppily. Scarlett dodged easily, clicked her tongue in disapproval and then smashed her fist hard against the bloodied wound on his shoulder. He howled and dropped the knife as Scarlett shoved him against the wall.

"Who was your contact for the MedCo job?" She repeated. The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know.

"You bitch…"

"You're wasting my time." Scarlett interrupted him and shoved him to the side then shot him once in the chest and once in the head. Crouching down Scarlett searched his pockets for anything, a piece of paper, any sort of clue to communication with MedCo that she could deliver to S.H.I.E.L.D. Scarlett retrieved the knife, wiping the blood on his jacket.

"Freeze!" A voice behind her startled her. "What are you doing? Who are you?" Scarlett turned and as the woman reached for the radio on her hip Scarlett shot her twice in the chest and she fell back in a heap. In the hallway to the right there was a commotion at the sight of the body falling. Scarlett stood and walked away from the body she'd been inspecting, turning the corner to the left and leaning against the wall and waited in silence. Closing her eyes, Scarlett listened to the panic in Russian.

She recognized enough to know they were going to be put on alert, but that was alright. Over the radio there were two other calls. Not many people in the facility, likely. There was a chance someone else could have been making the call, but in a panic that wasn't how people operated. Footsteps drew closer, but stopped some distance away. They didn't know where they went. A quick glance around her told her they had security cameras. Watching them, she saw that some weren't in operation. Sloppy.

If they left, she'd lose the element of surprise. Right now they were making bad decisions. She could steal a glance, they'd see her that way. Also she could find out how many there were, that would be nice. So, Scarlett peeked around the corner, waited for them to spot her. Shots were fired, at the wall, through the wall. There were three, each armed. She ducked low enough to avoid the blows then rolled backward and waited again for footsteps. There was more yelling, this time in broken English.

"Check, see if she's there."

"I do not hear."

As they drew close enough Scarlett was sure they'd be confused she turned the corner. Three men, one nearly within a foot of her, one further back by the body of their comrade, and one in the middle. Effortlessly she pulled the trigger and the man in the middle fell to the ground, his gun clattering across the ground then she shot again at the man farthest from her. He crouched to hold his wounded leg and Scarlett grabbed the man closest to her as he made to fire.

Twisting it around she slammed him face first against the wall, then she slammed his fist against the wall, repeatedly until he dropped the gun in his hand. Then she flipped him around to face her. He reached for her, sloppily, angrily, toward her neck to try and choke her. Scarlett forced her palm against his nose and he yelled in pain and anger and crouched forward, holding his now bloodied nose.

"You broke it!" He screamed, pulling his hand away and Scarlett slammed her palm back against his nose a second time.

"I sure did."

"I'll tell you nothing, you bitch!" He crouched onto the ground and held his nose in agony. If he wasn't going to give her information he was better off dead. Scarlett was never one for torture, it was too messy. Yes, it was true that when threatened with pain people often gave up their deepest and darkest secrets. Then again, they also said whatever they thought their aggressor wanted to hear to stop the pain. It was unpredictable and inhumane. Scarlett had found it never worked on her so she had only ever considered it a last resort.

Walking past him she fired two rounds into the back of his head. If he wasn't going to talk she had no use for him. People willing to talk did so almost immediately when threatened with a gun.

The third man was on the ground, holding his leg in agony. Scarlett walked over to him and as she did he cowered and fell back on the floor. Then he crawled away, and started toward the gun that he'd dropped when he'd been in such pain. Scarlett walked around him and stepped on his wrist before he could reach the gun. Still, he desperately grasped for it but failed.

Scarlett leaned down and looked to him very seriously.

"Who contacted you for the job in Manhattan tonight. Man? Woman? Where did the meeting go down? Here? Midtown?" She heard him curse in Russian and when he looked up at her she saw only malice.

Then he spit in her face so she stood upright, wiped her face and fired another shot that left him dead on the ground beneath her. Static came to life in the hand of the man behind her. Scarlett walked toward it and nudged the radio free. Russian, but some English.

"Knows what we did. We must run! S.H.I.E.L.D. is here for revenge!"

Huh, that was interesting. Scarlett had been sure they'd provided weapons for MedCo, had been sure they'd even built the bombs that night. Now she was almost sure that they were the hired guns who had protected MedCo and their leaders while they stormed the theater. This particular terrorist organization had been so far in bed with MedCo they were willing to kill themselves just to send a message.

At least they wouldn't hurt anyone else. Not anymore. Scarlett stomped on the radio and the plastic casing cracked and fizzled, leaving only static ringing through the hallway. She started toward the far hallway, closest to the elevator that would take her downstairs.

Humming at first brought the elevator to life. Then there was a ding as the door opened. Scarlett ducked down the nearest hallway and down a set of stairs that would lead to the floor below. Metal steps echoed beneath her every step, giving away her position but she didn't care.

Clang, crash, shots were fired and clattered against the stairway. Scarlett grabbed the railing, made to jump over it but another shot rang over her head so she ducked between the rails and jumped onto the concrete floor.

It was a warehouse. There were cargo containers stacked to and fro, shelves filled with munitions and scrap. Another shot was fired and Scarlett ducked and rolled out of the way, behind the stairs. There she waited until the closest shooter came for her. When he turned the corner he fired at her but she pushed his hand away, the shot ricocheting against the wall then kicked him backwards and fired once at his chest and once in the head. He fell to the ground and Scarlett ejected the empty magazine, letting it clatter to the ground before replacing it with another and cocking her weapon.

A woman ran toward her, knife in hand and Scarlett popped the fallen magazine into the air and then kicked it right at her. The woman dodged out of the way and Scarlett flipped her gun around, swung it hard so that the grip hit her hard in the jaw. Then she holstered her weapon, flipped out of the way as the woman swung at her with the knife and pulled out one of her own. She'd known this would come in handy again. Guns were tough in close quarters but she'd always been good with a blade.

The woman swung at her left and right. Scarlett knocked her arm back, swung again at her and then as the knife came at her, knocked her assailant against the stairs then stabbed right through the woman's wrist. She tried to pull it free but Scarlett stopped her and jabbed hard at the woman's throat. She choked and Scarlett struck again and watched as she fell to the ground, struggling to breathe. Scarlett pulled her knife from the woman's hand, wiped it on her jacket then stood and fired two shots into the back of her head.

Yelling came from behind several cargo containers. People were taking cover, trying to regroup. Scarlett counted the voices. Only a handful left from what she could tell. Scarlett hurried to the back of the cargo containers, listening through them and also keeping an eye on the staircase. A woman was yelling behind the containers. She sounded like the one in charge, giving all the orders.

They weren't going to let her leave. No, there was some kind of a bounty on her head and they were going to be the ones to retrieve it. But not before they got even for the damage she did today, oh no, not at all. There wasn't any backup coming so that was good. Scarlett knew that whoever was in the building now, that was it. She wasn't outnumbered, not this angry, not this fueled by adrenaline. For what they did to Nathan, what they did to Natasha and Mickey, for what they had done to all those innocent people in the theater, working and attending, Scarlett was going to make sure they never did anyone harm ever again. MedCo would have one less set of disposable soldiers.

There was noise on the stairs but Scarlett turned the corner around the cargo containers. The woman in charge was starting toward the back door, hoping to throw Scarlett off by making her think that there was no one left inside the building and taking her by surprise. She had a guard with her, a tough, tall woman with a scar over her eye. Scarlett recognized the face, but couldn't immediately recall why.

Scarlett aimed and fired at the taller woman, twice in the chest. Blood sprayed across the leader and she gaped in horror as her guard fell to the ground, dead. Someone came at her from the side, probably from the stairs. They were yelling, but Scarlett didn't hear it anymore. The chaos was like music; soothing, rhythmic music guiding her which direction to go next. Armored, the man slammed into Scarlett so hard that she fell onto her side on the ground. Pain shot through her but she ignored it, rolled onto her knees and threw her knife right into the man's shoulder where it plunged into his flesh with a dull thud.

Before he could scream she fired one shot into his chest and one to the head. He fell dead on the ground. Scarlett left the knife in his shoulder, she didn't have to take it with her. It had never belonged to her in the first place. When S.H.I.E.L.D. investigated this place, it would be enough to explain what had happened. Someone had to get something done, Scarlett was done with the red tape, at least for now. Maybe this would be proof enough that she could be some use out on the field.

The sound on the stairs renewed and Scarlett ran the short distance to them and then leapt over the railing. Two men were coming down the stairs and the one closest to her stopped in surprise as she landed in front of him and nearly fell. Scarlett fired at the man behind him and it sent them both tumbling down the stairs. Scarlett grabbed each side of the railing and swung herself over them both as they fell, then turned on a dime and kicked the second man as he tried to get back up so he would fall.

Reaching, she grabbed him by his collar and looked at him seriously.

"Willing to talk?"

"No chance in hell." He spat at her and screamed before grabbing at her. Scarlett shoved him back and fired at him once in chest and once in the head. Scattering over the railing, Scarlett ducked but wasn't fast enough and was kicked hard in the chest and knocked back. She stumbled and blocked another kick and twisted the man's leg but he leapt and kicked her again instead and she fell to the ground.

"You will burn in hell for this!" He shouted as he ran at her.

"I could recite your sins and we could compare but that'd be a waste of breath." Scarlett fired two more shots and the man fell to the ground dead. She knew what she was, she always had. Scarlett got to her feet and wiped the dust off of her jacket before heading around the cargo containers again to the open area of the warehouse. There was a chemistry lab setup in the far corner, something was bubbling. She would have to be careful with whatever that was, but with any luck she could stay far away from it.

A shorter man was helping the leader across the warehouse, urging her to escape so she could plan a counterattack. He looked up and saw Scarlett and reached for his gun so Scarlett shot him right between the eyes. Gun clattering to the ground, he fell into a slump and nearly knocked the woman over. She stumbled and cowered, away from Scarlett, mouth agape. Recognition settled in her eyes. This woman knew who Scarlett was. Maybe she should have been more wary about what enemies she made.

"Don't shoot!" She shouted and held up her hands defensively. "We can make deal, you and I. You know what we did here today. We could call this draw and go our separate… ah!" She shouted as Scarlett shot at her shoulder. Hunching over she fell onto her knees and Scarlett walked around her and pulled the gun from her holster, tossed it away and then patted her down for anything else. A knife and several clips of ammunition. Scarlett then searched the body of the man next to her and knocked any other weapons out of reach, keeping her gun at the ready all the while. "God damnit! What is wrong with you?"

"You know, I tried very, very hard to keep from getting my hands dirty these past few months." Scarlett removed the empty magazine from her gun and replaced it with a new one. She exhaled deeply, for the first time since she'd walked into the building. It felt as though she'd been holding her breath the whole time. That cling returned to her throat, ever present but hell if she was going to show weakness in front of this thug. The woman scowled at her. "And so far I've been keeping my nose clean."

"Thought you'd lost your edge." The woman muttered.

"Ah, so you know more about me besides that I'm a target. Good to know you're well informed. Stupid, but informed." Scarlett scoffed. "I have sat very patiently and watched while you and your bosses killed my friends. I have to confess, it feels rather nice to score some marks on our side of the tally for once." Scarlett kicked the woman to the ground and cocked her weapon. Desperately the leader of the group crawled away, trying to get to one of the weapons that Scarlett had discarded. Casually Scarlett walked around her side and stepped on her hand to stop her from moving. She grabbed at Scarlett's boot with her other hand but Scarlett ignored her and then pointed her gun at her face.

"What do you want?"

"Scott. Scott is what I want."

"I do not know anyone by that name." The woman stuttered on her words and slammed her free hand against the ground in frustration.

"Fine, I want to know about MedCo."

"I do not know of this MedCo!"

"If you don't know about MedCo then you don't live." Scarlett placed her finger on the trigger and tightened.

"Alright! Alright!" The woman shrieked and winced in preparation of the shot that would end her life. "I work for them! We work for them! I built… I built a bomb this last week, and imported weapons for a man but I do not know his name."

"You're a liar." Scarlett scoffed. "You wouldn't know who I was if that was the case."

"I told you I do not know of a Scott!"

"Who was this man you made the bomb for?"

"We never exchanged names! He asked for help and MedCo has funded our operation in the city for years! We gave them what they were owed!"

"What does he look like?"

"Big, hulking man… looks like skin stretched too fast. Blue eyes, dirty blond shaggy hair. Thought he looked rather odd for his size but you don't mess with the bosses." She spat in irritation.

That was Scott. It had to be. Scarlett would have described him the same way had she not known who he once was.

"I want you to get in touch with him. Tell him your men didn't make it back."

"My men?"

"Woman with the scar over her eye. Caught it under a set of goggles earlier escorting him. Don't lie to me again." Scarlett threatened.

"I don't know how to contact him!"

"Bullshit." Scarlett pulled her foot away and walked a little bit away from the woman on the ground.

"Even if I wanted to, what's to say you wouldn't…"

"This isn't a negotiation." Scarlett shot at the woman, twice in the head and she fell to the ground. She was never going to give Scarlett anything of use. Her story had changed with every question, every confrontation. There was nothing of use to her there, nothing. It would send a message to MedCo, but that was it.

Scarlett held her gun aimed at the woman on the ground, expecting the cavalry to arrive at any second, for MedCo guards to storm in and string her up. But no one did, nothing happened and she sat in silence. Her heart was pounding in her ears, so hard she swore someone was smashing something in the room nearby. She knew it was all in her head. Her hand was clutched so tightly around the gun that she felt the grip imprinting onto the gloves she wore.

It was time to clean up. Finally she took the gun and placed it in the hands of the woman with the scar over her eye. Then Scarlett looked around her at the aftermath. The chemistry lab in the corner still had something bubbling. She walked over to the table and stared at what was available to her. They were making some kind of drug, mixing something horrible. Scarlett pulled up bottles of ingredients and stared at the labels. Flammable.

That was good. There were bottles of fuel at the far end of the warehouse basement, Scarlett had spotted them while hiding under the stairs. Before long she'd strategically laid out fuel throughout the building. By the time the building caught fire she would be long gone. The fire would start in the basement, collapse would likely happen before anyone noticed the blaze. On her way out, Scarlett stopped to cut the lines to the building for everything but power. No one would be sending out any alerts or calling into the building.

Scarlett walked the streets of Manhattan, calm, collected, more so than she expected she would be. Her hands were trembling. They were shaking like a leaf after the adrenaline. It had been so long since she'd done that kind of damage, committed that kind of sin. What was there left to do? Scarlett felt the subway cars rattle beneath her feet and looked up at the line again. She knew where she was going, or at least where she was heading.

The airport. She'd go back to Malibu as she had promised she would. There she'd get cleaned up and sleep off the shaky feeling. The trip back to the airport was a blur, even getting onto the plane would be something that Scarlett would barely be able to recall in the days to come.

As the plane climbed into the air, Scarlett stayed in the bathroom and cleaned herself of any lead from her weapon, any blood that may have sprayed. Once in the air she quickly changed her clothes, absentmindedly going through the motions. Leaning against the sink, Scarlett stared at her hands on either side. Not a mark had been left on them, despite all the combat she'd gone through. Her body was exhausted, she could feel it in her bones, her lungs, her heart. Never had she felt this kind of stress on her body.

It was worse than feeling ill. Glancing up in the mirror, Scarlett made to fix her hair, to clean it up. As she undid her braid, she stopped.

For the first time in a very long time, Scarlett saw someone she recognized in the mirror. She saw her old self and she wasn't sure she liked it.