|With Great Powers||Help Search Members Calendar|
|Welcome Guest ( Log In | Register )||Resend Validation Email|
|ADD REPLY. NEW TOPIC. NEW POLL.|
"So, I don't want to say 'I told you so', but..."
Steve wrestled with his straps again. It wasn't that he couldn't break them, but that doing so would only bring them both closer to the unpleasant fate their captors had devised for them. He and Nat were back-to-back, bound together and dangling upside-down by a metal chain that steadily was lowering them towards the open hearth furnace. Steve could feel his cheeks burning from the heat rising from the molten metal, and could only imagine what it must have felt for Nat, who did not get blasted with Vita Rays in the 1940s and, as a result, was not blessed with SPF1000 skin.
"... I did say the underground entrance was a bad idea."
Not the most helpful thing to say when one was about to fall headfirst into liquid hell, but if they were going to die, Steve didn't want to go with regrets.
They'd gathered quite the crowd; most of the weapons dealers they'd been trying to bring to justice had showed up, probably so they could personally witness the public execution of Captain America and the Black Widow. One lucky dog had the honour of manning the control panel, and was handling the lever that was responsible for lengthening the chain and driving the two ex-Avengers to their doom.
"You're gonna look damn pretty as my newest rocket launcher, jackasses!"
Steve gave a small frown. He really didn't think human flesh, even melted down flesh, would make for good quality firearms. What if a chunk of bone got in and compromised the integrity of the weapon? Even if they were trying to make a statement, that was just sloppy workmanship.
"I hope you've got a plan, Romanoff," he told his partner calmly, as though discussing lunch options. He eyed the glowing vat of orange and red with growing wariness. "'Cause in about twenty seconds, we're both gonna need new noses."
@NATASHA ROMANOFF | Let me know if anything needs changing!
If you asked Natasha just how they got into this situation, she would have probably just shrugged a shoulder and glanced at Steve... because, that was exactly what she was doing as he finally spoke. Why? Because as much as their shared experiences and the sheer number of missions they'd been on could help... sometimes? It was a drawback.
She was just glad he didn't make a 'wrong turn at Albuquerque' joke.
With her arms tucked behind her back and bound, along with being held upside down... she couldn't say that this was her favourite position to be in, but one that wasn't unfamiliar. It just sucked that one of her closest friends was tied up with her, and was pointing out the flaw in her previously bulletproof plan.
Frowning a little for the slightly sarcastic tone, she just leaned her head up and back, looking down and into the molten metal that they were slowly being lowered into... before letting her eyes slide to Steve. "Noted," she tossed back at him, her lips set in a faintly playful line before it settled out again, all the while her brain was buzzing at a thousand miles an hour. Sure, she could bust out, but that would leave Steve free to fall... and that wasn't an option. They were both getting out of this... no ifs, ands or buts.
Having tied her hair tied into a tidy knot at the back of her head, lest it get in her way during the mission, she was glad enough that she'd had some forethought, though she did wish that Steve didn't move the chain so much. It was making her spin just a little, which wasn't helpful for potentially aiming with the Bites that she was still wearing. Still, she was patient, more than most, and it was why she was simply watching their captors with the intention of moving when the time was right... and all the while, working one hand out of the knot that she'd been tied into.
As Steve spoke up again, though, Nat just narrowed her eyes on the man controlling the lever, knowing that unless he was stopped, and the machine was too, they would be in a world of pain. Already, her face was turning red from the heat, and she knew she wouldn't last nearly so long as Rogers. Sweat was already dripping faintly into her eyes... and making them sting.
"Of course I have a plan, but you're not gonna like it," she told him quietly, eyes going from the leader who'd spoken up... back to the lever controller. "When I give the signal, start swinging the chain. I'll do the rest." And honestly, she knew that the timing needed to be perfect, but she'd been using those Bites almost all her life. It was a good thing that these goons didn't realize they were a weapon, or they'd all be screwed, she thought, even as she wiggled her wrist a little, loosening the rest of the way. Yep, call her many things, but this wasn't the first time Nat had been tied up... because men usually stuck to the tried and true.
With that, she waited until the chain circled back around again and closer to where she needed to aim... before she suddenly yanked her arm free. "NOW!" she yelled, one bolt hitting the machine that held the chain, causing it to lock up. At least now they weren't falling... but now they needed to get out of that chain... which was why she started rocking it too.. with the intention of having the top slide out of the hook.
And that was why she was starting to work at the rope holding his hands. They needed to get out of this. "I wish we had your shield right about now," she muttered low, because... well, the bullets were about to start flying.
"Do I ever like your plans?" Steve quipped back. That didn't stop him from listening to her though, as she told him to start swinging the chain at her signal. That seemed easy enough, especially the part where she'd handle the rest. He was curious to know what she planned to do, but he'd known Natasha long enough not to ask.
Because she was right; he probably wouldn't like it.
Getting the chain to swing was just like the swings on a playground; after lifting his torso a few inches, Steve then let himself fall. The movement was subtle enough to escape everyone's notice, but he'd created just enough momentum to exploit the moment Natasha gave the signal.
When she did, Steve drew himself to a crunch position and released at the right time, propelling the bound pair forward and back. As Natasha worked on getting them out, Steve kept swinging, to the point where the chain would almost become parallel with the ground.
"I did have one, but then Sam broke it, remember?" said Steve lightly. "Granted, it was a trash can lid, but--" Just then, the top chain link slid out of the hook, and instead of falling back towards the earth, inertia carried the pair high into the air as their spectators looked on in shock.
Thanks to whatever Natasha had done to his bounds, the next time Steve tried to free his arms, the ropes came free. "Hang on!" he called, wriggling his arms from under the ropes that held him and Natasha together so he could reach for the metal trusses fixed on the ceiling. His fingers made contact with steel and he soon managed to wrap his whole arm around one beam, and then his legs followed.
Once he was confident of his gripping, Steve hoisted both himself and Natasha onto the truss and surveyed the situation. About thirty feet below, he could see the weapons dealers scrambling to get organised, with the intent of shooting their prisoners from the sky. That was their cue to get moving.
"You did set up the bombs, right?" Steve asked his partner. "Are they ready detonate?"
"I still say that it wasn't a shield... not really. That thing wouldn't have stopped a snowball," Natasha said offhand as she looked up along the chain as Steve began to swing, knowing as she did that this plan of hers could fail spectacularly, but... considering she and Steve worked well together and seemed to have a way about them that made luck be on their side... her fingers were crossed. With the way that they were swinging, they would easily have the momentum they'd need to get out of this jam... but the timing had to be right.
She was going to hope for their string of mostly-good luck to continue, when it came to getting out of snags such as this. She didn't want to die in a boiling vat of liquid metal - and Steve wouldn't die in it, either... not if she could help it. Besides, there was the idea that their reputation was on the line... and she had a feeling that with anyone else, this would be a foolish enterprise. With Steve? They had a chance to get out of this with their skins intact.
But having undone the bonds that held them both in place, she wasn't surprised to see Steve's hands suddenly loose.. and so she just let the momentum of his swing carry them up and over... and through the air, almost straight, one hand gripping the chain as she aimed her Bites at a few of the thugs on the ground, thinning out the numbers of men who could potentially grab their weapons and shoot. For the moment, they looked too surprised by what was happening to reach for a gun at all.... which was part of the plan.
As he called out for her to hold on, her hand tightened on the chain, her eyes lifting to look up as he caught hold of the truss over their heads. As he pulled up on the chain, all the while Nat climbed upwards along it too... until her hand went to the underside of it and she began to pull herself up and over it, shielded somewhat by the steel she was resting on.
Falling back against one truss affixed to the wall, she leaned her head slightly over to look down upon the room... in time to hear a ping as a gunshot ricocheted nearby, causing Nat to jerk back and into cover once more. "Well, that's just great," she muttered, only to glance over at her partner for the mission, her expression calm as the sound of bullets began pelting around them, but missing by a mile. they were too far up and the men below couldn't aim.
That, or they were trying to scare them.
"Yes, I did... you have to ask?" she asked him and held up the detonator that she'd hard-wired to the bombs below, and leaned over, offering him the little remote control. "Flick the switch and press the red button... and it'll be a lot quieter in here... you know, after a while."
Once the screams died down, that is.
If they hadn't been swinging for their lives in that particular moment, Steve would have argued that it could have stopped more than a snowball--maybe two. It was also a pity their backs were to each other, otherwise Natasha would have actually been able to see the mock-disappointed look Steve was giving her.
From the trusses, Steve shrugged. "Never hurts to ask," he replied as Natasha took out the detonator. She handed to him and he turned it over a few times. It was pretty basic-looking, as detonators went--just a small, black box with a silver switch and a big red button. Couldn't get more obvious than that.
"Alright, I'm ready," said Steve, eyeing the dealers below. "I'm flicking the switch, and..." He pressed the button. "Boom."
Back in the days of the Howling Commandos, Jacques Dernier, a Frenchman, had been their explosives expert. He took enormous pleasure in his craft, describing his bombs as a sort of symphony of fire, and he was their conductor. Steve was reminded of that as he watched Natasha's numerous bombs detonate one by one below, and he thought that Dernier might've been onto something, after all.
"Smoke's gonna starting rising, so we'd better move unless we want to suffocate," said Steve quickly. Turning away, he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and busied himself with the remaining length of chain that had made its way with them. He tied one end around the truss and let the rest fall. The chain would let them down about ten feet, and they'd be responsible for the other twenty.
Steve nodded to the chain. "You first."
Natasha just eyed Steve amusedly across the short distance between them as she handed off the detonator, knowing as she did that this was Steve's way of keeping some semblance of control in a situation that could easily go sideways. They were still in danger, with armed thugs shooting at them from the floor below... but there on that truss, she was prepared to take and all of their enemies out, so they could make a hasty exit.
Besides, she'd set the explosives to go off in a sequence, and considering it was one of the things she'd been long-trained in, she didn't have any worry that it would go off without a hitch. After all, it was one of the reasons why it was she and Steve on this mission, and not one of the others: it needed to be quick, dirty and a little stealthy, though sometimes drastic measures were called for.
Those bombs? Definitely drastic.
Settling a hand on the truss beside her, Nat just moved down and into a crouch, still shielded from flying bullets by the iron on three sides of her. Hands in their fingerless gloves gripping onto the metal under her feet, she just listened to Steve, silently letting her eyes fall to the ground below, watching the symphony of sound and fire as the bombs began to go off. One after another, they burst with heat and light, her eyes reflected with the colours of them... before she turned her head and got up from that crouch, Steve's mention of smoke making her move just that much faster.
"Alright. We might have some stragglers alive down there. Be prepared," she told him, even as she watched him prepare a way back down to the ground. It was only when he motioned for her to go first did she scoot around him, shaking her head a little as she did so. "Well, if you insist," she murmured, and then grabbed the chain, beginning to climb down. It was after that first ten feet did she realize that she still had a way to go... but... she could see a pole nearby... and sliding down that? Well, it would be fun. "Try and keep up," she called up to Steve, and then pushed herself off the chain to grab at the pole... and then began to slide down.
Unfortunately, the sound of her skidding along the metal, its squeak and hiss... caused one of the dealers from the ground to rise up, groaning... but still armed.
|TOPIC OPTIONS.||ADD REPLY. NEW TOPIC. NEW POLL.|