Echoes

High pitched whirring in Scarlett's ears made her toss and turn.

Louder and louder it grew until it was a persistent, irritating ring. No matter how she tried to ignore it, it wouldn't stop. Finally Scarlett gave in and opened her eyes to greet the day. Still, the ringing continued, over and over, dying down then starting up again. It made her head spinning. Her whole head felt like it was pulsing. This had to be the worst hangover she'd had in years.

Still, there was that infernal ringing.

Turning sideways she saw the screen on her phone alight.

"Ah, that would do it." She grumbled. No wonder the ringing wouldn't go away. Lazily she grasped for her phone, prepared to tell Tony that if this wasn't an emergency he was in some serious trouble, especially since he'd kept her up most of the night texting. Natasha had been there when she'd last closed her eyes but from the look and feel of things, Scarlett was finally alone.

Except for the damn ringing phone. Sloppily she smacked the screen, shoved the phone to her ear and muttered a nearly incoherent series of greetings.

"Uh…" Michelangela Pierce's voice spoke with some concern on the other end of the line. "Are you all right? Romanoff told me you were well enough to take this. Was she wrong?"

"Nope, I'm fine. Was sleeping." Scarlett sat up and inhaled sharply, forcing herself to shake off the grog of sleep. What was Mickey going to ask her to do? Why would S.H.I.E.L.D. offer her fieldwork now of all times? Not that she wasn't up for the challenge but she had been positive that her health scare the other day was going to keep her off of the field for awhile and far away from guns. There was a very tiny part of Scarlett that was nervous to put herself in harm's way again. She knew she would be fine but she was having trouble shaking that feeling of encroaching death that still haunted her innermost thoughts. Natasha's voice telling her she was dying was sort of repeating over and over in there. It was very annoying.

The scare may have been just that but it had definitely left Scarlett rattled. That same tiny part of Scarlett that was apprehensive was also very tired of fighting in general and didn't want to go into the field at all. If she had so little time left to live, as little as everyone else seemed to think, then she wanted to spend that time trying to find a cure or with Tony.

Both those things felt very selfish but Scarlett was finally willing to be a little selfish.

"Are you sure?" Mickey sounded less than convinced.

"Yep, just surprised. You're giving me something S.H.I.E.L.D. related to do? Really?"

"Don't get too excited, it's nothing particularly interesting."

"Well, considering when I was healthy no one gave me fieldwork, it comes as a surprise after last week."

"You see, about that…" Mickey cleared her throat awkwardly and Scarlett could vaguely hear her tapping her fingers against her desk nervously.

"Oh, okay. I see." Scarlett blinked the weariness away. It felt like she'd spent the whole night partying but she hadn't touched a drop of liquor in days. Lord did she want to but she hadn't. Natasha had warned her that the amount of medication Fitz and Simmons had to give her would interact very poorly with alcohol.

Natasha.

She'd been why Scarlett wasn't allowed to do any fieldwork. Scarlett couldn't be mad about that now, she'd decided everything before this was water under the bridge. Besides, Tasha had only been trying to protect her in her own little way. Maybe giving her this assignment was the woman's way of saying she was sorry for not trusting her. Or something.

As the room spun around her Scarlett wished that Natasha had kept up with that instead. There was no reason, no excuse, for Scarlett to keep her hands clean now. Someone really did need to be the voice of reason, because these days it certainly wasn't Scarlett. Hell, she'd spent more time thinking about Tony in the last 48 hours than she had about her own health and she'd nearly died. She was a little ashamed that most of those thoughts had been of a more carnal nature, but only a little. That was what she thought about after having nearly died. Talk about priorities.

"It's nothing important, just some recon stuff. One of our teams that monitors satellite images all over the globe caught something nearby. There's this pier with an old factory on it? Looks like it was a loading dock at some point. Shut down nearly a decade ago after being fined for unsafe practices. Since then the property has passed from owner to owner without any success or renovation. Last week there's been some consistent suspicious activity on the satellite imagery so we thought we should send someone to check it out."

"What does this have to do with Scott? With me?" Scarlett practically waddled toward the bathroom and stole a glimpse at her reflection in the mirror. She looked better than she expected considering she felt like the dirt on the bottom of someone's shoe. Still pale, still exhausted, but still surprisingly like herself.

"It's funny that you ask that because we've been researching a bunch of cases dating back decades to try and find where MedCo really gained such momentum. There's this terror group, very elusive, not your ordinary run of the mill stuff. They're called the Ten Rings and they just… every terror cell we've infiltrated in the last year has some connection to them. They're dedicated to the destruction of world peace, which sounds silly but…"

"How long is this explanation, exactly?" Scarlett ignored the new information. She'd heard of the Ten Rings before, it wasn't new information. There'd been a handful of times where she'd run into members or groups involved with them, but it was a long time ago. However, Scarlett felt as if she didn't get out the door and work on her current issues she wouldn't live long enough to help with dissolving the Ten Rings.

"Oh, right uh… sorry!" Mickey laughed sheepishly. "Task at hand, got it. You see, ever since the other day in Manhattan we've been really looking into…"

"Pierce, you're killing me. Literally, time keeps ticking. Can you focus?"

"Right! Right. Sorry, again! There's just… a ton of new information right now and I'm a little overwhelmed. Scott, MedCo, focus! Right. Okay, so I was telling you about the Ten Rings, yes?"

"I know enough to get by."

"Well, MedCo has some deep roots connected to them it seems."

"Really?"

"MedCo wasn't always known by that name. It looks like the whole thing started as Mikhail's brain child. He recruited other powerful and like minded people to his cause, mostly to keep up financing. Only the rich and intelligent could join. He was in bed with a ton of other nasty organizations, including the Ten Rings. They only performed small acts of terror and only in Russia until he met Marcia Edmonton and Erick Reno. After that it became all about viral weaponry, which he was already dabbling with beforehand. Mikhail published an article once about how germs were the future of warfare, whether they were an assistance or a hindrance, the army with the most advanced mutations and viruses would be king. It was actually very well written and well meaning. That was before he turned all super villain."

"You say published like… an actual paper."

"Turns out he used to be an esteemed surgeon in Moscow. Very smart, very decorated. Several doctorates."

"Great, Stalin with a PhD."

"You know, it's funny that you mention Stalin, we've been working with someone from that era…"

"Is this on point?"

"No, no it's not… just, you have more allies than you think you do." Mickey cleared her throat and continued. "We don't know what turned Mikhail just that about twenty years ago he founded this organization that catered to a series of people with power, money, and too much free time. They were called The Crown."

"Of course they were. What a dick."

"That's almost exactly what I said." Mickey laughed. "For years this group was invisible in Russia. Almost silently they infected cities with deadly illnesses and watched to see what their reaction would be. Sometimes they worked with pharmaceutical companies hoping to make money for distribution of a cure. Then they created cocktails to sell to groups like the Ten Rings. It was despicable, the things this group took credit for back then. Eventually they had a calling card, it was very recognizable and found at every scene after September of 1998."

"Let me guess, it was a crown? Egomaniacs are so predictable."

"You guessed it… almost. It was yellow like a crown but it was dripping with blood, or something. Either way it was dripping and the pattern left behind sort of looks like a skull."

"So, either this pier you're sending me to has this symbol of we just went down the longest tangent ever."

"You're pretty good at this."

"I know." Scarlett quickly dug out clothing appropriate for such a task, blue jeans, tank top, leather jacket. In her living room she found that Natasha had left her a present of sorts. There was a large crate and inside were weapons and ammunition of many varieties. Scarlett scoffed. Like she didn't already have her own weapons lying around. Still, the gesture was appreciated. Scarlett dragged the crate into the basement locked it away.

"Can we count on you to take a look? There's been no movement detected so there's no need for…"

"I'm bringing weapons. If Mikhail is using this dock for something here then it's going to be guarded. I'm not taking any more risks than necessary."

"Understood."

"Give me a few minutes to get ready then I'll head out."

"One thing. As a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent…"

"I'm not a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, we've been through this. I'm a consultant, technically."

"Still, while on a S.H.I.E.L.D. field mission and with a case as delicate as yours we require that all Agents have a handler."

"Why even send me then?

"Because… well, surprise, it's me! I'm your handler."

"Oh, okay. Phone stuff. I can handle that."

"Give me a buzz when you're ready to go and I'll send you coordinates. Then I can be your eyes on the satellite above and backup if things go wrong. Natasha said she left you with S.H.I.E.L.D. communicators, weapons, supplies, the works. So just plug in and we'll be ready to roll."

"Sounds like a plan." Scarlett hung up before Mickey could say more. The S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent was very sweet and usually Scarlett had much more patience for conversation but right now Scarlett's ears were still ringing. Originally she hadn't planned on showering but it had been days since she'd been able to so she had to. The wound on her side was looking much better. It was still nasty, but better.

As the warm water washed over her, her thoughts drifted to Tony.

It was selfish to want to go see him more than she wanted to go on this field mission, right? It'd been days since she'd seen him and she very much wanted to see him.

With him suddenly single things between them were so much more tempting.

Tempting enough that the warmth in the pit of her stomach was suddenly very overwhelming and uncomfortable. It'd been a very long time since she'd considered giving in to that particular feeling.

Damnit, she should not have been thinking about Tony while wet and naked. Yet, there she was daydreaming about him in the shower.

There was no time for that so she dried off, dressed, armed herself, and got into the car, practically running away from the frustration that had overwhelmed her in the shower. She'd retrieved the communication gear that Natasha left behind and once inside the car slipped it inside her ear, placing her phone as a backup in her jacket pocket.

"I've transferred the coordinates to your phone, you should have them already." Mickey spoke without prompting.

"Thanks." Scarlett was a little surprised by the silence that fell on the line after how chatty Mickey had been only moments ago. Apparently she was very serious about her work after all. Scarlett wasn't used to dealing with Mickey as her extra set of eyes, usually she had Jinx so this felt strange.

"I suggest a southern approach with caution. It's the best escape route too so…"

"Yep, leaving the car behind just in case. Not my first rodeo." Scarlett assured Mickey as she parked her car a quarter mile away, hidden on the side of the road.

"I know, but this is my job after all."

"I know that too. I'm not trying to be snippy, I swear. I just sound bitchy when I'm tired." Scarlett wasn't lying but she wasn't telling the truth either. She was very tired, but not from lack of sleep. Her head was in a fog from the damn medicine and every so often her left ear was still ringing. Whatever Simmons had given her had to have been potent. While a few weeks ago Scarlett had only thought she was experiencing side effects now she definitely knew she was.

"Give me casual updates of your progress, okay? If you get in a bind say the word and I'll be… well I have a lot of options. I can blow stuff up from here, did you know that?"

"Walking north. Definitely looks abandoned." Scarlett spoke as the building came into view. She stopped short of the loading dock and behind an old rusted chain link fence that barred off the area and stared past the gravel. There were large shipping containers lined up all along the gravel and they looked newer than what she'd expect to find there. "Maybe not so abandoned. The lights in these lamps were recently replaced, shattered glass on the ground tells me they broke one." Scarlett carefully scaled the fence and dusted herself off on the other side, crouching low. "Where'd satellite imagery pick up The Crown?"

"Shipping crate on the edge of the pier."

"That sounds like a trap." Scarlett hesitated, slowly moving through the gravel toward the shipping containers. Maybe she'd become paranoid but being led straight to the edge of a pier with nowhere to go but the ocean felt like a fucking trap. "Shouldn't have sent me. This is a trap, definitely a trap."

"What makes you say that?"

"Mostly because I've seen it before? This is a trap. Trust me."

"Miss Damien, you are so much smarter than we give you credit for." A thick Russian voice interrupted Mickey on her communicator. "I'm a big fan of your work. I've been following your career for some time.

Scarlett stayed hidden next to the shipping container. Could they see her? Were they tracking her? Of course it was a trap, it was a big stupid trap and she'd walked right into it. S.H.I.E.L.D. had sent her right into it. Sometimes she swore that there were MedCo Agents inside S.H.I.E.L.D. pulling the damn strings.

That thought made Scarlett wince. She'd never considered that before.

"My name is Mikhail but something tells me that you already know that." He continued. Scarlett stole a glance beyond her hiding place. There was nothing out of the ordinary, no one was watching her from what she could see. What she could hear, however, was telling her very differently. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is not known for their violence, usually. But you? You are a woman of violence. How many deaths are you responsible for? A dozen? Maybe more than that?"

"I don't really keep a tally. Sort of a morbid thing to do."

"No, no a dozen is too small a number. That was before you slaughtered my men in Manhattan. Brings the number up to twenty that I know about at least."

"The blood on my hands is nothing compared to yours."

"Perhaps time will change that for us both, Miss Damien."

"What do you want?" Scarlett wasn't sure if Mickey could hear the conversation and if she was trying to help in any way. She got the distinct feeling that no, S.H.I.E.L.D. could no longer hear any of what was happening.

"Many more will die because of you."

Scarlett felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. It looked like her private device was still secure. She took out one of the earpieces she'd been given from S.H.I.E.L.D. and replaced it with her own bluetooth device. Much to her surprise, Mickey wasn't shouting direction at her, instead it was a robotic voice. Mickey instructed her that she'd hacked back into the call and was now listening silently, tracing and intercepting Mikhail's communications. The S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent was guiding her. Very smart.

Scarlett moved quietly between shipping containers.

"Nathan will likely be the first. He's weak. Thinks he can save you. He has no idea just how pointless it is. You lured him into your parlor just like the others."

Scarlett snuck past the shipping containers and around to the large factory attached to the wooden pier. The old brick was worn, white paint chipping away and covered with graffiti but Scarlett could see tracks in the gravel and dirt. This place was definitely still being used, that meant MedCo was tampering with satellite imagery. Either that or someone at S.H.I.E.L.D. had planted said imagery.

"Ah, then there's Stark. He's a bit trickier but… we're far better at this than you guess. S.H.I.E.L.D. made a deal with you and so we have aligned ourselves against them and all of their associates." Scarlett froze at long last. That was what she had feared from the very beginning. In the back of her mind she could hear Natasha reminding her that Tony knew very well how to protect himself. Of all the people she had to worry about, Tony Stark was on the very bottom of the list.

"Did you like what we did with your parents? Their blood is all over your hands. Or do you not care? I heard you weren't very fond of them."

Scarlett wanted to tell Mikhail to go eat a dick but she didn't want to give up her location if she could help it.

Still, she really wanted to.

Mickey guided her inside the factory through an already open docking bay. Scarlett texted back that there was nothing inside.

"Abort, Scarlett, abort!" Mickey hissed through the communicator but Mikhail spoke over her.

"They will all die. Even the sweet girl on the phone. Even Miss Romanoff. They will all die."

Scarlett turned to run out the door but was met with a group of four armed men. Behind her she could hear the footsteps of two more. So much for it being empty. She'd known this was an ambush, she should have just left instead of running inside! But her gut had told her she had to go, that despite the danger something important was there.

"I'm going to ask you nicely to get rid of the communicator and drop the phone." Mikhail stepped between the group of armed militants and walked toward her. He was large and stocky, older with grayed hair and cold gray eyes.

Scarlett didn't respond and simply stared at him, buying time for the next move she'd make. She'd gotten out of way tougher spots than this before. From first glance Mikhail didn't appear under the influence of any drugs that MedCo had been apparently dealing out to their superiors. Then again, Marcia had appeared normal until she'd become a biologically hazardous smear on a New York street.

"Hang up or I will make you." Mikhail's smile was twisted and it made Scarlett's stomach turn. He wanted her to resist. He was looking for an excuse to hurt her.

"All right." Scarlett hung up the phone and pulled the communicator out of her ear along with the bluetooth she'd put in. She still had the other in her pocket, she'd replace them when she got the chance. Showing him the screen, she assured him the call had ended and threw the earpieces to the ground.

"That's a good girl."

Six men but three of them had moved to guard various entrances. Two loading bays and a back door. There was an old window about ten feet away from her. The glass was already broken but if she could break it a little more she could get out. Ten feet was too much however, she'd be shot before she got there… unless she did something drastic.

It wouldn't be the first time.

"Now put the phone down."

"It's kind of a really nice phone. I don't want to do that." Scarlett clicked her tongue in annoyance. Mikhail moved close and smacked the phone right out of her hand, grabbed her shoulders and threw her hard to the ground. Scarlett didn't resist. There was no point in causing herself further injury when she was in such a bad position.

On the ground her phone buzzed, not even cracked. She could see on the screen that Tony was calling her this time. Cursing, Scarlett wished more than ever that she had told him some semblance of the truth. Then again, did MedCo really want Iron Man as their enemy? She guessed not.

"How armed are you? Should I guess? Or should we do this the fun way?"

"Gross. Never really been into old creepy dudes. I mean, maybe it sounds a little judgmental but you're not really my time. I've been known to date my fair share of douchebags but this is a pretty big leap from douchebag to megalomaniacal evil asshole." Scarlett counted on Mikhail hitting her as she got to her knees.

"You will do whatever I tell you to do." Mikhail crouched close and smacked her hard across the face. Scarlett didn't even turn into the blow, instead she held her gaze and flipped him off with both hands and smiled. This time he hit her so hard that she felt the skin next to her eye split and bleed. Then he hit her again and she fell to the side. Counting to ten, Scarlett pretended to groan in pain and held the wound on her side. "I almost forgot. You're wounded. We heard! What a shame, I was hoping you'd resist. If you come willingly the pain will be… minimal. For now."

Scarlett slowly made an attempt to sit up but feigned falling back to the ground with pain. She had to appear weak to get out of this. The guards weren't even taking her seriously anymore! They actually thought she was going to go with them without a fight. Hilarious!

"We knew you would become weak and frail at some point, Scarlett. This has been mostly a waiting game for us until now."

Scarlett counted the footsteps of the men around her. Two of them were immediate threats, Mikhail was armed, the other four were too far away to make a difference. She would be out the window before they could pull away from their duties and shoot. The odds were they were protect Mikhail anyway. Scarlett wasn't running away, she just needed to gain an advantage. The nearest guard was about three feet away from her. He would server her very well.

Scarlett reached inside her jacket, still pretending to address her wound.

"Do you think that there's a magical cure waiting for you at the end? Do you think S.H.I.E.L.D. really wants you better…?"

Scarlett fired four shots. Two at the guard next to Mikhail, two at the one a few feet behind him. Mikhail ducked and immediately ran for cover. The men at the doors protected their leader. The assailant closest to Scarlett reached for her weapon but Scarlett rolled onto her stomach, grabbed her phone, leapt to her feet and then kicked the gun right out of his hand. He pulled out a knife so Scarlett grabbed his wrist, twisted it away and knocked it to the ground alongside his gun. Then she spun him around so he stood guard in front of her as her human shield. Quickly she backed up to the window.

Scarlett elbowed the already broken glass in the window until there was enough space for her to crawl through. Then she knocked the female guard in the side of the head with her gun hard so she'd fall unconscious and leapt out the window. Hurriedly she ran around the side of the factory and back toward the gravel where she jumped against the side of one of the shipping containers and grabbed the top of it where she pulled herself on it with ease and laid flat.

Then she held her breath and listened. Her ears were ringing again and so she smacked the side of her head with her palm until she could get it to stop. Her lungs were tight and she was wheezing. Now was not the damn time for this. Thank god for adrenaline.

Scarlett heard footsteps in the gravel around her. Mikhail was shouting from inside the building but she couldn't make out what he was saying. Pulling her phone from her pocket she tapped on the screen and opened an application that interpreted surrounding sound waves. On the screen she could read every word of every conversation it picked up but she only needed to hear the one.

"Hunt her down! Now!" Mikhail then spoke in Russian and Scarlett's brain wasn't allowing her to translate. The letters were jumping around in front of her and she pinched her eyes closed for a second.

"Damnit." She whispered. "Focus, focus." Scarlett managed to translate a few words. He was going to wait for something on the pier. That's where Scarlett would go then. Scarlett was not done with Mikhail, not by a long shot. He'd picked a very bad day to taunt her.

Scarlett listened again for the footsteps of those who were hunting her. There were plenty, more than she'd counted inside the building. Two were dead and one was incapacitated so there were only three left with Mikhail. But since then she'd heard at least six pairs of boots running past her, enough for her to think that there were others waiting in the perimeter for her to come running.

Scarlett sent a message to Mickey Pierce quickly, telling her that she needed help, to watch her from the satellites for a good time to strike. She didn't wait for a response and shoved her phone back into her pocket, zipping it closed.

Once she'd counted to ten without hearing any other footsteps Scarlett dared to peek over the shipping container. She spotted three guards, all pretty decent lengths away. If she was quiet, she could get off the container and sneak past them.

Carefully she hung over the side of the container and dropped onto the gravel. None of the guards turned toward her so she crouched low and ran back to the building. Still, no one was alerted. They thought she was running for her life. Silently Scarlett crept toward the guard walking along the far end of the factory. Scarlett grabbed him and threw her arm around his throat and placed her hand over his nose and mouth then waited for him to fall unconscious before gently laying him on the ground.

Scarlett searched his pockets for anything of note, found nothing of note, then dismantled his gun. Then she continued around the side of the building, checking behind her and in front of her frequently just in case. There was very little cover here, if anyone spotted her she'd be a sitting duck.

Scarlett could hear Mikhail talking just around the side of the factory. He was standing beneath an overhang just outside of the wooden dock. Currently there were no ships but the crate that had lured S.H.I.E.L.D. there in the first place was waiting at the very end of the pier. Scarlett guessed there was nothing inside of it, nothing of note. The whole thing had been a trap and it had always been a trap. If Scarlett hadn't come they would have used whoever had shown up against her.

Scarlett felt her phone buzz but ignored it. She could deal with S.H.I.E.L.D. when she wasn't in danger. Right now, Scarlett had to take action. Mikhail would hear her approaching, Scarlett had to come up with a better plan rather than just jumping out and shouting 'surprise motherfucker!'

Mikhail was pacing back and forth, keeping his wits about him, gun in one hand and radio in another.

Scarlett checked the far side of the building again and when she was sure it was clear, stood on the window ledge and jumped up, grabbing the side of the roof before climbing on top of it. No one was waiting for her and thankfully no one was looking up there either. They likely suspected she wasn't climbing anything after what had happened the week before. How had they known she was injured?

Scarlett cursed. Her side pinched in pain. She better not have popped a stitch. Scarlett would deal with it later. She wasn't going to limit herself because of a few stitches. Face inside her jacket, Scarlett stopped to cough, hoping the leather stifled the sound enough to remain unnoticed. She held it back as much as she could.

Thankfully, Scarlett had accomplished more than one mission in the past while she'd been sick. It hadn't seemed so wonderful back then but right now it was pretty handy.

Carefully Scarlett crawled along the roof of the building, wary of its old age until she reached the edge near the ocean. The breeze was surprisingly cold and she shivered. Mikhail was quiet now. Every so often she heard a click from the radio, presumably his men checking in but nothing more. Then she would hear his footsteps on the ground. Scarlett had to count right, she had to be exact otherwise she'd lose the upper hand.

Closing her eyes she forced herself to count. This mission had become unexpectedly back to basics. Once she was sure of his position, Scarlett grabbed the edge of the roof and dropped down right behind Mikhail. He heard her but he had no time to react before she'd placed the barrel of her gun to the back of his neck. He stiffened up immediately.

"Drop your weapons."

Mikhail put down his gun and Scarlett patted him down and threw aside another gun and a knife hidden in his belt. Once sure there was nothing else there, Scarlett nodded toward the gun that reminded close by.

"Kick them into the water."

Mikhail did as he was told.

"Now give me one good reason why I shouldn't paint this building with your brains."

"Very good, Miss Damien." Mikhail laughed coldly so Scarlett pressed the barrel of her gun more resolutely against the back of his neck.

"This is not a good argument."

"There is no cure for you."

"That's not what I asked."

"The poison that's running through your veins was designed to mutate your genetics, to make you stronger and more pliable. It did not do as intended like it did to your ex. No, that drug was a failure, a failure of his and yet it has become a beautiful weapon in the right hands. I imagine you are not very fond of it."

"Can't say I'm a fan."

"You know what will happen, don't you?'

"Right now, I'm going to kill you. So yeah."

"One by one your organs will shut down. Your lungs first. It will be slow, the lungs but also the worst. Your liver function is probably already very low. Just wait until the pancreas goes, oh the pain you'll be in. You're a strong woman, Scarlett… I imagine you'll be awake until the very end when you asphyxiate. How painful it will be. Even for someone so tolerant of it."

Scarlett felt that tightness in her lungs, not because of the illness, but because she knew he told the truth. She had long known the reality of what was happening to her but she'd pushed it pretty far back in her mind. These things would only happen if they couldn't manufacture a cure and Scarlett had faith that someone would do just that, that she would do just that.

But what if they couldn't? Right now was not the time to think about the eventuality of her illness and she wouldn't allow Mikhail to distract her with it either, despite how it frightened her.

"There's another option, Miss Damien."

"I'm listening. Not intently though. I'm deciding if I should shoot you in the stomach first to watch you suffer for a bit… or… just get it over with so you'll shut up."

"We possess the most brilliant minds in the world, Scarlett."

"No, you really don't."

"There's a difference between your brilliance and theirs. Some consider them mad. There are placed that people like you refuse to delve because of morality. Not our doctors. If you come with me, make a deal with me then you can have them at your disposal. You can lead them. If you join The Crown then we can cure you together. You belong with us, you've more than proven your worth."

"Decided MedCo wasn't the way to go, then?"

"MedCo is quickly dying, Miss Damien. You're killing it. The Crown, however, can't die."

"Because of the Ten Rings?"

"You're so close… you have no idea how close."

"It doesn't matter. I'd rather choke to death on my vomit than join your super secret club of pompous dickbags."

"That can be arranged." Mikhail chuckled under his breath. Scarlett heard footsteps behind her and grabbed Mikhail by the arm and turned them both toward the sound.

Scott.

It was Scott. Of course it was.

He looked more like himself than he had in Manhattan, less like a monster. He was dressed properly, in a button up and slacks. Even worse his glasses and had his hair slicked back. Still, he was bulkier than he'd ever been in the past.

Mikhail had been buying time to allow Scott to join them and Scarlett had let it happen because she had also been buying time for Mickey to send in back up. One of them was moving faster than the other and it hadn't been Mickey. Scarlett was going to have a nice chat with S.H.I.E.L.D. If she survived this bullshit she was going to move so far on from them. Hell, she'd start her own better organization, an organization that took no one's shit, got shit done, and didn't throw their people into situations like this.

"Put the gun down, sweetie."

"Not until you're both dead." Scarlett hissed. She knew how to kill Mikhail but killing Scott was a different animal altogether. Her thoughts were currently a long string of obscenities but she wasn't going to let them see her sweat.

Until Scott snapped his fingers.

Two armed men approached, dragging a third, weak man between them.

The third was a bloody mess of blond hair, at least until he lifted his head.

Clint Barton was thrown to the ground alongside Scott, beaten and bloody. Scott grabbed Clint by his now shaggy hair and forced him to his knees.

"I said, put down the gun."