13 vs The Winter Soldier

April 28, 2016:

The Winter Soldier attacks his newest target — Agent 13 of SHIELD. She manages to get away with the assistance of a speedy masked man.

Midtown Manhattan

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

7 pm. It's a reasonable hour for most people to be going home from work, but Sharon wasn't really the sort of person who *went* home. Home was boring, work was her life, and she really only left the office to find some food. Because, the other thing that was boring? The SHIELD cafeteria food. She's in her business grays, complete work outfit finished with flat shoes suited for both running and the office. She looks like any other of a hundred business women who have stayed too late and are now rushing to find some food.

Her steps are slow, unguarded for the moment, trailing down a side street that has a few little eateries, pizza places, and a high end wine store. The street itself is fairly empty, diners either inside or business people already on trains home. Sharon pauses in front of one of the eateries, her nose wrinkling as she considers the menu. "…Shoulda stuck with the cafeteria." She mutters to herself.

Ford Benett comes into Midtown Manhattan from Lower Manhattan.

Sometimes, hits need to take some time to come together. Maybe this assignment is new, maybe it's been held until the time is right. Part of the beauty of New York is that things happen and most people just keep on going about their business. It might be the most selfish city in the world. Certainly it's the most selfish in the US.

It's something that Winter Soldier uses to his advantage.

Dressed casually in jeans, a leather jacket, and a baseball hat that shadows most of his face, he looks like almost anyone walking the streets of the city. There is a surety as he walks right up to Sharon Carter when she pauses in front of the eateries. He slides up next to her, as if a lover meeting his paramour after work for a date…but it's very obviously a gun pressed up against her from the hidden depths of his leather jacket.

"You will come with me to the alley over there." There's an unspoken 'or else you'll be bleeding right here, right now'.

The moment someone comes anywhere *near* her personal bubble, Sharon is on edge. She's a highly trained agent, she's been paranoid most of her life and she knows how to sniff out things which simply Aren't Right. This is one of those things. The man is given a flickering look, eyes lingering on his face for just a heartbeat, studying him in a way that will let her recreate that face if she ever needs to for a report. That's when she feels the gun in her side. Her pale eyes go a tight wide, body stiffening, but the only response that escapes her is a flat little laugh.

"… I am the wrong person to mug, young man. Walk away before I hurt you." There is not actually, yet, fear in her voice. He looks like a street mugger, in jeans and a ball cap hiding his face. The profile would put him not nearly so dangerous as he is. But her hands are subtly moving, too, ready to break his wrist in a judo hold a second later if he turns out not to be so willing to shove off.

"I'm not after your money, Agent Carter," is spoken quietly, so that immediate passerby wouldn't notice anything awry. "But if you want to do this here, we can. There will, however, most likely be a lot of collateral damage and possible civilian casualty." Winter Soldier seems completely non-plussed by that possibility.

"So, your choice. I'll give you that much while you still live."

The moment he says her *name*, not her code name, but her actual name, the game dramatically changes. Sharon narrows pale eyes upon his face, drinking in every last detail she can get under the shadow of that hat. Her hand slowly eases away from his wrist, really not caring to get others shot. She needed to buy time, anyway. So, instead, she feigns nerves, fingertips reaching up to her ear to smooth her hair back, like someone who has just gotten very twitchy, when in reality she's brushing the broadcast button of her comm. Hopefully SHIELD will pick some of this up, and get his voice, if nothing else.

"Fine. Alleyway. No one else needs to get hurt. And I don't know who you are but… Whatever your issue is, I'm certain we can talk it out." She moves, though slowly. Each step is stiff, trying to find a good weakness on him, the perfect moment to actually try and disarm him.

Winter Soldier doesn't relax when she acquiesces. This isn't some random ambassador or political figure…this is a trained agent and he knows that. There's almost an expectation that she'll try to fight back. He moves to wrap an arm about her shoulder…again, as if there's nothing wrong to be seen here, as they move towards the aforementioned alleyway.

Just two crazy kids heading into the shadows for…something.

"This isn't something to be talked out," is murmured to her other ear…the one without the comm. This isn't his first rodeo, nor his first time with a SHIELD Agent. "But I'll make it quick."

As he puts that arm around her shoulders, she knows she has less time than even before. A long line of tension pulls through her back, but she walks, calm and straight forward, towards the alleyway. She lets him talk, already having memorized his face and voice. It's his scent now that she's drinking in. Part of her is still quite determined to survive this.

The moment they are beyond the lip of the alleyway, Sharon is moving. She drops fast, trying to get out of that arm, as her fingertips move for his wrist holding the gun and she starts through the expert motions of a disarming hold she can do as easy and strong as breathing, from years of training. It should work, it's worked in every fight she's had before. But then, he might not be anything like every other fight.

Winter Soldier is nondescript. That's pretty much part of his modus operandi. His scent smells…like an adult male. No sweat, no aftershave, no tell-tale soap or laundry. Not much to give him away there. Not until the 'fun' really begins.

Maybe he expected her to fight back. If he read her dossier, he knows at least some of how she was trained so he's not caught by surprise when she tries to disarm him. The gun is indeed tossed in the air as her hand moves to his flesh and bone wrist, but it's then caught by his metal arm, hidden by the sleeve of the leather jacket.

Even as he both defends himself from her attacks and tries to subdue her with his own, there seems to be no enjoyment or frustration about the movement. Almost as if he's merely going through mechanical motions.

As the gun goes up, Sharon's going down, trying to knock him unstead with a low, sweeping kick to the back of his knees. She needed to keep him off balance long enough for SOMEONE to pick up the issues on the SHIELD comm, but who knew if she was even broadcasting. The flash of metal at his wrist makes her blink, but she has no time to process that. She needed to get out of there or get him disarmed.

"Don't DO this, it's not worth it!" She huffs out, almost able to read the fact that his heart isn't behind his motions. There's still some strange hope in her that she might be able to talk him free of this. Still, things have escalated that she's reaching beneath her shoulder for her own gun.

Winter Soldier isn't really a talker. The sweep behind his knees catch him and he goes down, only to roll back to his feet almost immediately. He's not new to physical combat. In fact, he's had decades of training. Even as she reaches for her own gun, he quickly lashes out with an elbow to smack her arm away from her own gun.

All he really needs to do is make sure he can shoot her before she tries to shoot him. It shouldn't have to be this difficult yet he almost wasn't expecting anything less.

The moment he goes down, Sharon is lashing out in a violent kick to the side of his head. She's trying NOT to give him time to recover, because she knows her life is on the line, and no one fights better, stronger, or more dangerous when they see their own death in front of them. A trapped animal is the most dangerous. "You don't want to do this!" She hisses, almost positive of that feeling she has in her gut, even as he's still going through the motions.

Her right arm is smacked away, but while he's still recovering from the moment, her left comes and pulls the gun from under her right shoulder, "DROP THE WEAPON!" She orders, this time it's a shout. Hopefully that is a warning to any civilians behind them on the street to run. It might also be her downfall — because she hesitates to shoot, she gives him the chance to surrender, when he probably won't give her the same.

Winter Soldier rolls away from the kick and isn't about to surrender. Even as she pulls the gun on him, he reaches out to grab her wrist and bend it back so that she either has to drop the gun or shoot herself. He flips his own pistol in his free hand and lifts it as if to pistol-whip the woman in the head. He can shoot her unconscious as well as conscious.

Even the shouted demand/warning doesn't seem to faze him. Let more people come. He has more bullets.

"If you truly wanted to kill me, you'd have done it by now!" Sharon growls out, though her words are earnest. Every second that he holds the gun and doesn't fire drops the likelihood of him getting the courage to fire it. The one place he has her outmanned, though, is that damn arm. There is no way she can muscle her gun back from him because of that metal grip alone, so she does drop the gun, kicking it far away so neither of them will be able to use it.

She sees the pistol whip coming a second before it does, her head jerking back so she doesn't get the FULL hit of it, but there is a crack as her nose breaks, blood splattering across the alleyway. She's still fighting. She has to, or she dies. So she'll fight to the end or until back up comes. Extended away from him as far as she can now, with him still at her wrist, she draws her legs up and shoves a violently powered sideways kick straight to his, well… nethers. She's not playing nice now. ANd it tends to be an effective way to put a guy down.

"I don't waste bullets," is answered. It's true, he hasn't shot her yet. Maybe he sees the folly of this. The hit he does get in doesn't really even seem to register even as she moves to kick him in the groin.

There is protection there — he'd be a fool not to wear something, but that was still uncomfortable. He does double over as he isn't immune to that pressure.

Winter Soldier's patience was worn out, He lifts his own gun and fires at the SHIELD Agent. He's a little low, so he's unable to take a headshot, so a chest-shot will have to serve.

A point blank shot, even into a vest, is a half debilitating thing. There's no doubt going to be a few cracked ribs as Sharon stumbles back and hits the ground. Hard. She coughs out, violently, but she's clearly not dead yet because she's half stirring, reaching for that second gun beneath her jacket and trying to go for a shot herself. She just needs to put the man down before he gets another shot in on her. Granted, now, his angle is totally shit. He might get a leg or arm shot in, on the arm she has lifted, firing in his direction.

Thank goodness for vests. But it's taking her time to recover. The shot she takes at him is messy, but it's taken. Her gun is live and this fight just got a lot more deadly on both sides.

Ford wasn't even supposed to be in New York today. But he wanted to pay a friend a visit, so he decided to jog the way there from his hotel room. It was certainly faster than driving during the day.

Which is why Ford happened to be nearby in his sweatpants and tank top when he heard the shout from down the alley. And it sounded like a woman's voice! No, no, stay restrained. He knew what happened when he played hero, and this was certainly not the time to be doing so… even so, he'd better look. Just to be sure. Peering down the alleyway, Ford leaned out to see the scene unfolding before him, jumping a little at the sudden gunshot. THAT seemed to get people's attention and tell them to scatter! 'Oh crap! Someone's been- no, no… just… just keep- wait, is that that SHIELD woman from the bank!?'

Ford inahled, before cussing under his breath. He hated when Claire was right, because it usually meant extra work for him. He couldn't let someone get shot, especially not someone who'd come to his aid before. Time for the 'Masked Meta' to make another appearance. Using the scattering crowds to his advantage, Ford slipped quietly into the alley behind a dumpster, slipping his balaclava on. Properly disguised, Ford stepped out into view, before blazing forward to deliver a mighty flying kick to the fellow shooting. That metal arm must've meant the guy was sturdy, so a little more force in his blow shouldn't hurt too much, right?

Winter Soldier knows his angle is terrible and there's a brief flicker of surprise as she's still up. So to speak. He starts to shift to a different position to get a better shot when Carter's gun goes off. He turns, trying to position himself so that his left arm would take the damage…but there is a fortuitious kick that pushes himn away from the line of fire.

Fortuitous and painful.

He takes a step back to regain his balance before straightening up, his arm slowly lifting with the gun. Now he can get in a headshot.

Well, Sharon was not expecting anyone to be intervening here — much less the masked man from the bank. Not that her mind has time to catch up with what is is going on, so she probably doesn't even recognize Ford yet. She knows she needs to move, remaining prone around a man with a gun and an assassination mission is a very easy way to be killed. So, she's stumbling forward, still catching her breath.

SHe's trying to get another shot, but now there is a civilian in the way and that makes things extra dangerous. So, her gun goes to her side, just pushing herself up to her feet when Winter Soldier will probably take his shot. But then, that probably saves her life.

This guy just would not let up! Ford took up a kickboxing stance as the Winter Soldier took another attempt at a headshot, moving in quickly to try and knock him off balance. He was fast, but not fast enough to outrun bullets. Luckily, he didn't have to beat the bullet… just the finger pulling the trigger! "Didn't your mom teach you not to hit girls!?" Ford quipped, before bringing up a leg to try and knock the gun loose from that metal grip. Which would take some doing, given it's… well, metal.

The gun is fired just before the kick is aimed at his arm. The arm itself is actually built to block attacks like that, but it does distract Winter Soldier enough that he doesn't get to see where the bullet landed in his target. Winter Soldier just gives a cold stare at Ford, perhaps for interfering, and his right hand whips out and goes to jab a knife at the man's leg that was raised to kick at him.

He may not be supernaturally fast, but he's incredibly precise in his movement.

No, the shot doesn't jar too much out of the way, but Sharon is moving. He'll hear pain from her this time, as the bullet lodges just over her collar bone, right where the vest ends. It's not going to be an easy wound, but it's not a one shot kill either. A few more inches, if she hadn't been standing up? She'd be dead. The blonde stumbles back, her hand jerking up to that area between shoulder and throat which is suddenly blossoming with blood.

Out of the alley. She needs out, desperately. Sharon's sinking against the wall, tasting her own blood as she tries to keep a gun up in her free hand, in self defense. But that shot has put her down to the point that she's purely defensive now, and that probably won't last long. She and Ford need out of there. Fast.

Ford winced as he felt the blade of the knife slice into his leg, just barely dodging a much more serious injury. His speed helps him enough, but it hardly makes up for his lack of skill in a real fight. He was a playboy, not a true boxer. He backpedaled quickly, before looking over to see Sharon in serious need of medical aid. That wound looked really bad.

Moving quickly to her side, Ford's arms immediately moved to sweep Sharon off her feet (literally), before racing quickly back out of the alleyway. She needed an ER, badly… and luckily, Ford knew of one fairly close by. The benefits of having a friend in medical work! But the further away they were from this guy, the better.

Winter Soldier pauses, one hand bracing on the floor of the alley and another still holding the knife as Ford speeds his way towards his target. They're moving too fast now for him to get a true bead but he fires a couple of shots as they speed off. Just in case. "Damn." is muttered flatly before he gets to his feet and quickly assesses his own situation.

Nothing that won't heal up easily.

More than can be said for his target. He'll have to keep an eye out so he can eventually finish the job.

It's only another moment, even as police are arriving to the scene, but there is nothing there except spent cartridges and spilled blood.

Black Adam comes into Midtown Manhattan from Lower Manhattan.

Black Adam heads out to Upper Manhattan.

Before Sharon entirely knows what is happening, she's being scooped up by the man who escaped her just this way the time they met before. She's clinging to consciousness — mostly. One hand pressed tight against her shoulder, trying to hold in blood and stifle a wound that is *not* going to stop bleeding without surgery. Her other hand presses her comms again, "SHIELD, I need an extraction *now*. Delta-4 point." She growls out, drowsily, on her comms.

Then she's looking up to her saviour, blinking wearily as she tries to figure out just how fast they are moving…"62nd… and 11th. The bridge… get me there. They'll get me out. I got back up… no hospitals, not with that mad man out there…" And, apparently, looking to kill her.

"You sure? That wound is pretty… fine. 62nd and 11th. On the way. Just stay with me, alright? No talking, just… keep those pretty blue eyes open, alright?" Yeah, it was definitely the guy from the bank. But at least he was being considerate. Making his way to the point Sharon indicated, Ford will stick with Sharon until SHIELD get on the scene and get her some medical help. One he's certain she's alright (or they start asking too many questions about him), he'll jet back to his original destination, hoping his friend will be willing to fabricate another cover story for him.

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