1819/I Want to Break Free

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I Want to Break Free
Date of Scene: 04 August 2017
Location: New Croton Dam, New York
Synopsis: Mercy Thompson, Fred Burkle, Dean Winchester, The Black Widow, Melinda May and two werewolves team up to retrieve Sam Winchester from Hydra's clutches. The Winter Soldier shows up to stop them, as does a special guest hydra (emitted by Claire Temple).
Cast of Characters: Sam Winchester, Mercy Thompson, Winifred Burkle, Dean Winchester, Black Widow (Romanoff), Melinda May, Winter Soldier, Claire Temple
Tinyplot: Tayaniye


Sam Winchester has posed:
August 4, 2025

Croton, New York

As the search for Claire Temple and Sam Winchester has unfolded a couple things have become obvious.

First, magical tracking is absolutely useless. Sam is careful enough to avoid leaving so much as a hair in a hairbrush in the apartment he and Dean share, so that was out anyway, but Fred did have an item that was important to him...his very first and best set of lockpicks, gifted to her on the very night of his abduction. Sadly, any spell attempts just set the case spinning in slow circles like a compass needle that never manages to find "north."

Fortunately, there was information on Sam's phone. It pointed to the New Croton Dam Spillway. Some surveillance would make it obvious as to why tracking spells are bust...water of course cascades over most of the structure, and it would only take planting Sammy somewhere beneath that water to render that magic fairly moot. It's a wonder Fred's dreamwalking spell even worked, but things like astral trips into other people's brain get a little fuzzy on that angle: /she/ wasn't burdened with running water at the time, and has stumbled upon the trick of calling Sam's True Name, two advantages which allowed her to find his spirit on the astral plane where dreams exist. One could argue that there, Sam wasn't particularly burdened by running water either...for all the good it's done him.

Surveillance on the dam would indicate kind of a hard row to hoe. Long-term surveillance would reveal a secret keypad-- available when one touches a specific brick-- and a secret entrance right on the grassy part of the spillway supporting the dam, partially hidden behind a very large tree. There may be surveillance cameras in the dark recesses just above the entrance, but of course it's nearly impossible to tell without cheating somehow. There is definitely a secret facility dug right into the dam, but the layout of that facility, the size, or even the number of people inside is impossible to determine. The traffic is kept low and light; entry and exit is restricted to times when civillian traffic isn't milling around watching the water cascade into the river, and the trucks and cars that do pull up for said entries and exits are non-military usually, and tend to spill their people out and drive off rather than parking and allowing themselves to be counted. Sometimes they bring supplies, and at least one supply run has made it clear that an indefinite number of people can probably hang out in there for an indefinite number of days without stirring themselves.

Good thing a group of Big Damn Heroes has come together to figure out how to do this, right?

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The call to arms went out and today is the day.

The day the group is off to investigate the information that was found upon Sam Winchester's phone. For this little escapade Mercy Thompson had just enough lead-up time to call in a few favors. Favors with a heavy price, but they were still called in. And so, with arsenal of bombs, grenades, mines and bullets and two very large and nasty werewolves, Mercy is here. The bombs, grenades and other gear is packed neatly and carefully into a large canvas bag. That bag is currently being carried by Mercy, the strap upon one shoulder and criss-crossing over her chest and ending upon opposite hip. The bag looks quite heavy and is, but Mercy seems to be carrying it with relative ease. A black smart-phone armband sits on the coyote's forearm, her smartphone housed within it. The screen is dark just this moment, but with a single touch it'll light up. Several apps are already running in the background of the phone, but the one that truly matters is the remote control app for several of the mines. They can be either toss and go, or placed and armed remotely and then boom with a single touch of her finger.

The werewolves themselves are already shifted to their four-footed wolf forms. One wolf is a brindled russet in color, while the other is the typical gray and brown pattern one usually envisions when they think of wolves. The only possibly startling thing about them is their size. Both wolves hit hip-level for a man reaching six feet in height, anyone shorter and they seem even taller. Truly the pair almost look like the wolf mounts from a popular MMORPG that the kids are playing, only without any goofy lope. It's all predator smoothness and silence when they move.

Either way, the golden-eyed wolves stay close to Mercy making the woman look smaller than she actually is. For Mercy Thompson she made her way here on her own; because wolves, they don't travel well with strangers. Her mode of dress is geared towards messy and outdoors-y, with dark jeans, black shirt and her steel-toed boots.

She's making an effort to blend in even as she (and the wolves) move toward the rendezvous point for the Rescue Team.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
It's been an intense couple of days/weeks/month for Winifred Burkle. Is it plausible that she imagined she would be prepping to storm a impenetrable fortress of a dam in the company of a mechanic, a professional spy, a pack of wolves and a hunter with backpacks of homemade weapons and explosives, determined to get inside no matter what? It's hard to say. This is Fred, after all. She might have thought that this was something she might be doing on a random humid August night. Chaos theory and all that.

There was the general nervousness that tingles down Fred's spine as facts are laid bare and information is shared to make a plan. How are they going to get in there? It feels like the past few weeks have been leading up to this moment, but now that its here, she's positive they are not all properly prepared for what awaits them. That's not about to stop her, though.

Fred is dressed for the occasion - or as dressed as she gets for this sort of thing. She's wearing dark jeans, a black shirt and a jacket. Her long brown hair is braided and coiled on top of her head, though a few strands already fall about her face and she nervously shifts on her feet at the arranged meeting place. "Well, it certainly has the lair of a Bond villain vibe," she mutters.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Not far from the rendezvous point, the dark coloured Impala rolls to a gentle stop and its sole occupant puts it in park. With a vague frown on his face, Dean twists around his seat to reach a large black canvas bag already prepped for the occasion... while still belted into the seat. He clears his throat, glances towards the passenger seat as if telling the not-present-Sam not to laugh--a glance that only causes his lips to tighten further--and //click//, undoes the belt.

He inhales a long breath and then releases it slowly. He tugs on the bag again and slides it over his shoulder before giving it a once over. Dean reviews his mental list, checking off the items one at a time before zipping it up again.

The door opens and he treads to the meeting spot, just in time to catch Fred's assessment. His eyes squint and he sucks on the inside of his cheek. His grey shirt, dark jacket, and dark wash jeans make him look more like a college student than a hunter. An eyebrow quirks at the observation and his lips twist to the side, "At least it doesn't look like there's a crocodile moat."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Did someone mention Bond villains?

Another ally works to the rendezvous, having left her bike a good distance away. Natasha is dressed in her work clothes, except there is no SHIELD insignia on the bodysuit. This time, she is off-the-clock so to speak. She has her Glock 26s in their holsters and her gauntlets with their myriad of toys in place. She has an extra belt around her waist with several small pouches, holding a few electronic toys, extra magazines already loaded and additional ammo for her gauntlets.

Her observations of the dam have not made her any more comfortable. Too many variables, too little information. This makes the usually dire Natasha even worse. There is a dark frown on her face as she arrives.

Her gaze shifts around the group, finding each person in turn and giving a brief nod of acknowledgement. There are three unfamiliar faces: two are canine in appearance and one is Fred. "How are we playing this?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Fred. Natasha. Totally new and unknown guy - which causes Mercy to give Dean a look, but clearly he wouldn't be here without someone telling him where to meet. So, for the most part, Mercy's look is only questioning and curious in nature. The wolves themselves are ever alert and turn their yellowed eyes to each person as they arrive, before they arrive really, thanks to their ever so sensitive ears. For introductions Mercy says, "This is Aaron -" The gray, "- and Darryl." The brindled russet wolf. "They're /friendly/ werewolves and here to help." Just don't mind those baleful looks both seem to give everyone. Including Mercy.

Price to be paid, yes.

To Fred, Mercy adds, "Fred, I was able to add some remote control detonators to half of the mines we've built. When we get back -" Optimistic Mercy is, "- I'll arm the rest the same way."

And now it's to Natasha when she asks that relevant question. "It's either go in straight away or bring them out. I vote for bringing them out with some well-timed explosions, since we've no clue what we're heading into. Or maybe half of us are distraction, pull them out, while the other half goes in and sees what they can find. Caveat being here I am /not/ a tactician and splitting our group up makes me nervous."

With that said Mercy's gaze turns to the group as a whole to see what their reactions are.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Mercy earns a quirk of Dean's eyebrow at the notion of friendly werewolves. He does, however, manage to give them an up-nod and an introduction, "Dean." His eyes flit towards Natasha following Mercy's assertion of the plan, "I think we need a distraction if we want a hope of infiltrating this," he motions towards the large building behind him. "And we don't even know how many people are inside. If we can get them looking at something out here, it'll be easier for someone to sneak in. Maybe. Probably."

He frowns slightly, "We don't have many of us, but maybe we can make it seem like we're more." His gaze focuses on the dam only to sour seconds later. Whatever his thought, it's left unspoken. "If we want to stay together, but want a distraction, we could set a series of charges--weak ones along the dam--and ambush anyone that comes to investigate. If they come to investigate." He frowns at that.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Friendly werewolves. The inner child in Fred wants to pet the wolves, but she also knows they're actually people and that's probably rude. Instead, she crosses her arms in front of her to try and contain some of that nervous energy and steps aside as Dean and Natasha arrive. "Fred," she introduces herself with a nod of her head toward the wolves and then to Natasha, as they are the people she does not yet know.

"Oh, that's great!" she tells Mercy with a bit of a smile - as much as she can muster. "I worked a bit on the MSB aerosol. It's got a timer, but not a remote one." The proper questions as to how they are doing this is met with a nod as she agrees both with Mercy and with Dean. "Kicking an ant's nest seems like a good way to start things off."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Distraction to get them coming out might help. I have another associate who should be here any moment. The two of us may be able to get inside before you start the distractions but it would take a little bit of time. Not sure if we would have a chance after explosions go off. If there are people sleeping at the facility, they'll all be awake after that and it'll be more going in with guns blazing for the entry team." Natasha isn't sure any of the options are good ones. She doesn't have any better. "There is also the possibility that if explosions go off, they simply lock down. Too many variables."

Then she realizes she hasn't thrown her name out there for the unknowns. She nods to each in turn. "Natalia." Her lips twist in a smirk. "For today."

Melinda May has posed:
Arriving last and nearly as silently as Natasha -- the werewolves likely caught her approach -- May looks at the others and then without a word and without bothering to introduce herself she pulls something from her pocket and opens it to reveal what looks like a bunch of tiny, wireless earbuds. Luckily she brought more than enough to go around. Unluckily, she's pretty sure they weren't designed to fit lupine ear canals.

"Quinjet's set down about a half mile away," is her only contribution to the current conversation. Her black-on-black attire could pass for slightly unusual street clothes, but anyone who knows her knows that the jacket she's sporting is both armored and concealing a vast array of weapons. No, none are silver, but most of them are VERY sharp.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"Mercy." Is the last introduction and chime-in for names, before the coyote nods to Fred's remark about the MSB. That will definitely be something to go over, though later, much later.

The mention of another associate causes Mercy to look at Natalia, but for now the mechanic simply says. "Distraction it is then." But, before much more can be said by Mercy, May shows up. The wolves and Mercy do hear the other woman's approach, with the wolves a few second quicker than Mercy. Something close to relief might be seen from the mechanic when she spies who the late addition is. More to their group is better.

When an earbud is offered, Mercy will take it. Then fit it to her ear. "Let's get the bombs set then and see what reaction we get." States Mercy, even as she turns her gaze towards the 'castle'. Or rather where the entrance and secret panels were noted by the stealthy observation from the reconnaissance done earlier.

And just like that Mercy moves -

For all that Mercy has no real super-spy craft training her movements are pretty quiet and stealthy. The darkness around her hardly seems to cause her too many problems; the ambient light easily being magnified by her sensitive eyes. The wolves likewise move with ease though they're far more silent than Mercy. Their coats easily blend in with the darkness and they lope far enough ahead and to the side to disappear from view every now and then.

A handful of explosives will be pulled from the bag Mercy has and then set around the entrance that was so used. Then it's boom time -

"Okay, fire in the hole." States the woman, "Ready or not here we come."

3-2-1 - The face of Mercy's cellphone will be lit-up with a touch and once the screen is active Mercy ruthlessly stabs the detonate button upon the touch-screen.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Bombing the entrance will /definitely/ create a response.

A shower of brick and debris comes blasting outward, slamming into the tree, sending chunks of rock into the water, and creating a dustcloud that fills the dark space. There were apparently no security cameras after all-- perhaps they were hard to wire or deal with in the wet-- because the whole time people were setting charges nobody did a thing. But now, as the dust clears, they'll see the beginnings of the compound.

What looks like a very badly damaged security checkpoint lies beyond the blown door. What once may have been a bullet-proof glass window has been shattered by the explosion, as have the scanners and other equipment meant to check keycards and access and all that good jazz.

What remains are four guys wearing armor, which is about all that can fit into the bottleneck that's there even now. They are packing AR-15s and they begin shooting out into the group almost immediately. A chorus of bap! Rat-tats! fills the night.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Fred takes an earbud from May and slips it into her ear. While she may not exactly know what the Quinjet is, but it seems as if this is the woman that Natalia mentioned would be joining them. Two spies are better than one!

With a plan of action agreed upon, Fred waits for the wolves to place and set the explosives. Nervously, eagerly, she waits by the coyote woman as she hits the button on her phone. There's no going back now, they have hit and then stomped on a wasp's nest. Something almost approaching a sense of calm crosses Fred and she readies herself.

While she had hoped that they had cover, it seems that is not exactly the case. Grabbing Mercy - the person nearest to her - she ducks down with a gasp as AR-15s start to shoot at them. Reaching into her bag, she picks up one of the weapons she and Mercy have been working on in the past few weeks: a magnet pulse bomb.

There's a muttering under her breath as she starts to make a few calculations, "The distance...wind speed...arc..." It sounds as if she is calculating a formula in her head. In a moment, though, she peeks up and hits a button on the side of the trap. It careens through the air toward the four guys before a sudden wave of magnetic energy emanates from the small projectile, dragging metal within 5 yards toward it.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean offers May a curt nod--a combination of greeting and thanks--as his eyes trail to his jacket and the little bit of flannel peeking underneath. The fabric will be recognizable to the Agent as something that she'd given to Sam to pass on to Dean. He puts the earbud in place and lingers nearby to watch the set-up.

His green eyes remain trained on the doorway when the explosion first goes off, but the array of bullets sees him hitting the ground until Fred releases the magnet bomb.

The effect of the bomb happens in phases. First, it sees the weapons trembling in the assailants' hands. They try to hold onto them and maintain control, yet the control becomes warped and bullets begin to fly in a varied and ineffable pattern as they lose control. The effort is futile as they're quickly pulled to the bomb's core, effectively disarming the four assailants in front in an incredible display of ingenuity.

Dean rolls on the ground and presses himself to a sprint. His hands ball into a tight fist to deliver a crosscut punch to one of the assailant's faces.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Natasha had to dive to the side to avoid the spurt of bullets. As the device is employed, she is already moving in time with May. They've done this before and work in tandem. It isn't often they've gotten to work together it's something they fall into easily. Singly, they are dangerous. Together, someone is about to wish they weren't working in a super secret lab in what should be a nice dam.

A pair of tonfas drop out of her gauntlets, expanding to full length and glowing with a blue light warning there is some sort of power being utilized. She starts moving even as May strikes with her ICER, firing directly into the face of one of the men and giving an opening. Her job is the up close, much as Dean is doing. He has his own dance partner. She goes for the another. As she closes, she hits her knees and slides under the guard's swing at her, striking him in the kneecap with the tonfa and breaking the joint in the process. He screams as he goes down onto his other knee. She is already regaining her feet and takes him out with a Widow's Bite to the neck, sending him convulsing as he falls unconscious to the floor.

Melinda May has posed:
May took cover the moment the charges were done being deployed, and as soon as the guards in the doorway start opening fire, she fires while Natalia charges in close. And from the looks of the first one that falls to one of her shots, she was aiming for their heads. Natalia would instantly recognize the ICER in action, but anyone unfamiliar with the technology might think she's being particularly brutal. Oh, and a bonus? That magnetic pulse doens't seem to affect the projectiles her pistol-like thing is using.

The instant that pulse is gone, though, she's sprinting after Dean. Because she'll be damned if ANOTHER Winchester gets in trouble here. Not to mention she is NOT about to let them get stuck at this bottleneck. They're going into this base, and they're getting their people back. Even if she has to reenact Bahrain to do it.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Dean's fist to the man's jaw puts him right down; an effective KO punch. SHIELD's most dangerous dames put down the other three in a beautiful dance.

This allows the team to see a hallway that continues north before veering sharply to the west in a tight L-shape. There is a door just past the security center on the eastern side of the L, right at that hall turn-off, that seems to hold more soldiers. These aren't as armored; they're in jeans and t-shirts, like they were off duty, but they've picked up weapons. Two pop into the doorway, fire, and then pop back behind the door to take cover. Disciplined, despite their state of undress. One more does the same at the bend of the hallway. They're basically not wasting a lot of time either; they pop out of cover in patterns to try to halt the advance, to try to put some of their assailants down before they can deploy more of their tricks.

Winter Soldier has posed:
In the woods, there is another wolf. This one is two-legged, and it wears a muzzle-mask.

He is accompanied by a small unit of Russian Spetsnaz, all of them also deep Hydra plants. They bunch up together in front of the IMV that brought them out there, doing last-minute weapon checks, and avoiding the eyes of the masked man sitting on the vehicle's hood, finishing a last smoke. They are far enough away that they think it's safe to talk in low voices, about a creature they have heard of but not really -seen- until now. Is it properly controlled? Can we trust a rabid wolf? One of them turns and offers some words of friendship, perhaps thinking that's the best approach. Comrade, how does it feel to walk free? he says.

The man's blue eyes gleam. "Tambovskii volk tebe tovarisch."

He laughs it off, a moment later. "Relax, my friends," he says, in his perfect English. They shift their weapons at the sound of it. "Tovarisch volk znaet kogo kushat'."

--

The little group disables the guards at the bombed-out entrance handily enough. A short silence descends afterwards, a silence which is only interrupted by the soft, sudden crack of a branch breaking as it is disturbed. Even if the humans don't pick it up, the wolves certainly will.

Everyone will pick up the sharp gunshot that follows, however -- the smoking gun held by the Winter Soldier, the body on the ground belonging to his own man who stepped wrong. He and his remaining men are behind, about twenty yards distant, still outside. Pincering them in from behind, while men fire at them from ahead. "Now you've done it. Well-- no room on the cart for fools," he says, lowering his gun. "How about the rest of you?"

It seems a cue for the four remaining men to attack, AK-74Ms firing. They reduce the distance to ten yards, and closing. The Winter Soldier, though, he has himself one long amused look, standing back, before turning as if to leave.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Gunfire. Mercy Thompson is not bullet proof. Nor is she a super-secret ninja. She's an average sized woman who can turn into a slightly larger than normal coyote. As such, she isn't going to be stupid here. So, when the explosions occur and Fred grabs her, Mercy can already be moving in a similar vein. Down and a little to the side and if Fred doesn't move to the side, Mercy will pull her along. Friends help friends not die. Especially when they're doing calculations.

As the other woman prepares her magnetic bomb, Mercy turns to the wolves that are near the two somewhat mortal women. "Try not to get shot." States the mechanic seriously, "Anyone in cages or cells please don't kill." Because it would be futile on her part to tell them not to kill the shooters, wolves just don't work that way. Both wolves growl an affirmative and then like soldiers they turn in unison and move off.

While the four check-point guards were simply knocked unconscious that doesn't last long. Not when the wolves roll in. The throats of each guard are neatly ripped out with quick efficient bites from each wolf. 'Friendly' they may be, but insane they aren't. You never give the enemy the opportunity to possibly come back at you, especially from the rear.

With bloodied muzzles the wolves exchange a look between each other and then move.

By this point Mercy is moving inside the bloodied security checkpoint. Her expression is grim even as she makes herself look at the four dead men. That look doesn't last long, however, because the hallway beckons.

It likewise beckons the wolves, but when that snap of branch is heard, all three shifters stop. The crack of the gun soon following that causes more consternation to follow; mostly from the wolves. For Mercy her expression turns to something more worried, fear, a mixture of both. "Behind us." And with those two words the wolves bark at each other, before disappearing back out of the newly made hole in the wall. Then with sensitive ears, noses and eyes Darryl and Aaron begin their hunt. Their lope is quick, quiet, their claws retracted for now to keep them as silent as a cat. Once close enough to those four men, both wolves will jump simultaneously towards the ones that are shooting.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
This is new to Fred. She has been through a hell dimension, she has fought vampires. She has been in a club that has been shot to pieces, but this is actually a warzone. Though scared, the woman reaches deep and moves much like Mercy and her wolves - with the pack. That seems safest. She has gotten by with quite a bit of bravado before this, but this is much different than everything else she has ever dealt with before.

Deep breaths, remember why they are here. As Dean, Natasha and May move forward with combat ready attacks, Fred follows behind with something that is most likely described as a scurry. Mercy and the wolves are nearby as the rush forward, but they move in the opposite direction. As they do so, the grey wolf she now knows as Aaron suddenly stops and is shoved backwards with an impact of a silver round straight through the large wolf's head. He makes no sound, but there is a vicious spray of red as the wolf collapses in a lifeless pile.

Fred cannot help but pause, horrified. But, the momentum, the adrenaline...it drives her forward.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean follows the hallway until encountering more gunfire from the trained soldiers in their casual wear. The Colt handgun is drawn from the inner pocket of the jacket and aimed purposively at the off duty officers. While they pop in and out of cover, he fires when he sees them, and with little cover available, runs serpentine down the hallway, zigging and zagging to diminish predictive power as to exactly where he'll stand. And as he moves, he picks up pace, and inhales a long breath, knowing full well that their cover has already been blown. And so he yells, hoping for some direction to come if it reaches his brother's ears, "SAM!"

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Dean, fire in the hole!" Natasha yells as she raises an arm up. With a little sound of displaced air from her gauntlet, a grenade is lobbed into the hallway ahead of Dean, at the juncture. It is not enough to destroy the walls but it should take out the men at the corners effectively enough, allowing the rescue team to work further into the interior.

A sound behind has her turning, taking in that there are more targets outside. The wolves seem to be going after them but a shot has one of them falling, a spray of red going skyward. It should be getting back up in a moment. Only silver bullets can hurt them.

It doesn't get up. The rules just changed. "Hostiles outside. They took out the wolf Aaron. Silver? How did they know..." She is already turning to head back outdoors. "The rest of you find Sam, we will clear the exit route." She knows May has her back, not waiting to see if the woman falls in with her.

Melinda May has posed:
May had been moving to stick with Dean, though his bellowing earns him a split-second glare. And then Aaron goes down and doesn't get up again. Seeing May turning to head that way, she doesn't hesitate to turn and follow her fellow SHIELD agent, muttering something harsh-sounding in an Asian language. As she's following, the ICER gets put away and a small pistol comparable to a Makarov replaces it along with a blade she pulls from under the back of her jacket Crocodile Dundee style.

The kid gloves have just come off. The instant both women are within eyeshot of the Spetnaz, May again aims for their faces and opens fire before cutting to one side, knowing Nat will go to the other.

Sam Winchester has posed:
The men from behind may or may not have had advance intel. Or perhaps they simply had a moment to observe two wolves and make a deduction, switching out their ammo. SHIELD isn't the only organization with some occult knowledge, after all. One of the special forces guys continues to tangle with Darryl outside, moving in a dance of getting slashed at and firing back at him. The other three continue to fire at Nat and May as they move towards them; they are using the trees as cover. These guys are no pushovers...they're well-trained and cool under pressure.

Mercy's sensitive nose will start to pick up Sam's scent though /not Claire's/-- his personal scent, the scent of his blood, more than the soaps and shampoos that he uses, or the woodsmoke, beer, salt, flannel, salt, and gunpowder he usually smells like-- as they head into the hallway, mostly in three places. One of them is a medical lab with a single operating table inside of it, as well as standard medical equipment, syringes, and the like. It looks high-tech. It smells cold.

The second is a small, dark room with a single metal chair bolted to the floor. It has cuffs at the wrists, ankles, and at the collar. It's currently empty. It reeks of blood-scent, fear-scent, pain-scent.

And finally somewhere, faintly, at the end of the hall...

Meanwhile, Sam had heard the sounds of fighting, of chaos. How could he not? At first he'd furrowed his brow, thinking it was one of his nightmares. He'd lain there, in his cell, confused, but not really very responsive. Everything just seemed underwater to him really, not really much of a concern one way or another.

Until he heard his brother's voice.

Now, he struggles to his feet and staggers to the door of his cell with gritted teeth. There's really only an iron window grate, and a lock he can't pick because he's short on supplies. But now he's got his lungs, and he draws a deep breath of air to use them.

"Dean!"

The sound comes from the end of the hall, muffled, all the way down to the west. But he's alive, and he's there, and he's heard.

Dean's shots take out one of the gunmen, the ones blocking his zag down the hallway by popping out of some sort of mess hall; now he's able to travel west towards Sam. He can even spot some sort of security door past the very end, it's closed, he can't see Sam beyond it, but he can probably assume that his brother is being held down there. Nat's grenade effortlessly takes out the two that were firing from the eastern room that used to live behind the security station, ensuring he doesn't get shot in the back.

Two more at the end of the hall. The only places to 'zag' to are really inside of these rooms, there's the chance to dart in and dart back out, but otherwise those guys at the security door have very straight, very dangerous shots to unload at Mercy, Dean, and Fred.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Blue eyes watch the wolves run. The Winter Soldier's head tilts, as if listening.

One is put down by a silver bullet through the head. The Soldier clucks in disappointment, but in the next moment he is already in motion. He closes with the remaining wolf, the russet one, brushing the man who was engaging him previously aside... moving as quickly as the wolf, himself. The beast lunges, teeth bared, and the Soldier catches the bite with his steel left hand. Metal clashes against fangs.

His left arm whirs harshly, wrestling the werewolf to a standstill, winching upward hard enough to pull his forepaws clear of the ground-- then letting go and bringing his arm back around hard enough to shatter the beast's jaw. The wolf collapses in a sprawl, still breathing but unconscious.

Methodically, the Winter Soldier fists his left hand in the werewolf's scruff, and starts dragging him away.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Without a sound Aaron goes down.

While Darryl understands what just happened - he does - that doesn't stop his attack to the group that's coming in from behind.

It's all gone quite serious now. Serious enough that the wolf will have to mourn later. Now rage just fills those golden eyes of his.

"No." Gasps Mercy, her steps taking her to that fallen furred body, but even she knows it's too late. The particular tang of that bullet, silver, can be smelled by her, "They have silver. How -" Her echo of Natasha's question just stops upon hearing the red-head echo her same though. It's only as Nat and May leave that Mercy's finally reasserts some measure of thinking upon her part. Swiftly turning back to Fred and Dean, Mercy moves. Her expression has turned hard now, anger and fear battling for supremacy upon her features and within her eyes.

The hallway at this point is a second war zone. Some go down thanks to Dean's well-placed shots, while Natasha's grenade takes out two more. Even as the shots and the grenades cause ringing within Mercy's sensitive ears, that doesn't stop her from finally remembering her other senses. Specifically her nose. "Sam's been here!" And even as she shouts that revelation Mercy's hand is already reaching for another explosive. This one electrified. A switch will be thumbed and with a count of five within her head, Mercy lobs it with all her strength towards the two down at the end of the hallway. Then she's diving through one of the doors that Sam's scent can be found within - which happens to be the one with the obvious torture chair.

And while Mercy sees it for what it is she doesn't stop to think. Can't stop to think just yet. Too much happening. And finally out in that hallway what the coyote threw finally activates. Call it a taser grenade, if you will, as electricity arcs from the little metallic body towards the two soldiers who guard that second secured door.

As for Darryl, the wolf snarls, snaps, does his best and while he has strength behind all those moves they're nothing against that augmented arm of the Winter Soldier's. With jaw cracked the wolf goes limp, the vaguest of whines leaving his shattered mouth before he's unconscious. Then with very little dignity the brindled wolf is dragged away.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Fred is far enough behind Natalia to not be in the way of her grenade. However, she is still moving with the group, hand inside of her backpack filled with random and most likely dangerous items. Any kind of bullet will stop a Fred Burkle and she has only basic knowledge on how to keep away from them. Ducking and generally staying amongst the group, she does not toss out as of yet. There is quite a bit of horrible and pain behind them, but for the moment, Fred attempts to compartmentalize.
    he response to Dean's yelled call for his brother immediately has a reaction on the physicist. Straightening, she moves forward with the rest of the crew. "Sam?" she calls out. May and Natasha Turn back to stop the very real danger behind them while Fred moves forward with Dean, single minded in her pursuit. Dean's shot takes out one guard and as they move forward Fred brings out a crossbow and shoots at the other. Old fashioned? Sure, but it's what she's used to.

The way remains clear for those moving forward toward Sam and as soon as Fred can reaches the door she heard his voice, she is immediately there trying to open the door. There's both an electronic lock as well as one that requires a key. Immediately, Fred works at the electronic one.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean ducks as Nat throws the grenade, taking out the two still firing at him. But then he hears it. His name. "SAMMY! WE ARE COMING! GET READY TO LEAVE!" he calls back as loud as he can manage, clearly giving away his position in the process. Evidently this isn't currently a point of concern, or he's really not convinced it'll make a world of difference, either way, he doesn't try to fight the urge to call out to his brother.

He pushes forward further with Mercy and Fred, actually nodding as the security is taken out with Mercy's taser grenade. Fred goes to work on the electronic lock and Dean reaches into his coat to extract his lock pick kit from his pocket. He begins to work at the mechanism. His hands twitch with the anticipation of opening the lock and getting the mechanism to release.

Claire Temple has posed:
The thing about places like these, built of brick and stone and mortar --

-- sound carries.

Shuddering forward through the foundations of the dam, walls creak and ceilings groan, and dust falls overhead in the sighing showers. The rooms grind against the supports, an inflexible frame being forced to absorb the distant, and powerful quake of something seismic.

Are there earthquakes often in upstate New York?

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Natasha goes the opposite direction from May. She dives into a roll, then manages to get behind a tree herself. She stays behind cover as bullets rip at the bark on the opposite side. Glancing up, she holsters a gun. She raises her free hand and fires upwards to a tree branch with her line. A moment later, she is in the tree instead of on the ground. She quickly works her way up the branches, getting herself to a spot she has a clear shot at one of the men. The Glcok still in her other hand fires, the explosion loud as the bullet is aimed directly for the man's head. So much for non lethal.

Immediately she is spiralling back down on that line, swinging to the next tree and hiding behind the bulk of the wood to avoid follow up shots since her own shot gave away her original position. Then she will lean out and take aim at the retreating back of the Winter Soldier, hoping to stop him before he gets too far with the wolf he is dragging.

The world begins to shift just as she pulls the trigger, fouling her aim.

Melinda May has posed:
May doesn't slow down as she races to the cover of a tree on the other side, then fires from around it at another Spetnaz trying to get a bead on Natasha. She then promptly moves again, charging the man she just nicked with the bullet and slashing at him with the pair of blades in her other hand. A perfectly parallel pair of slices appear across his neck before he can do more than turn and start to aim at her, and she doesn't wait to see him collapse as she darts to the next bit of cover.

When the seismic activity starts up, May can only be glad she's backed up against a tree. She takes advantage of it to aim around her cover and take a shot at Barnes' metal arm. She knows it'll do jack to actually hurt him, but if she can keep him from dragging Darryl off, it'll be worth it. Hopefully the earthquake doesn't mess up her aim too much. She DID promise Nat she wouldn't kill the man, after all.

Sam Winchester has posed:
At this point the interior of the compound is pretty well cleared out, so giving away position isn't a huge concern. It's almost eerily silent, in fact, as Fred and Dean work at the security door. Together, Hunter and Physicist make short work of that security door. It swings open to reveal a short hallway that provides access to two grim-looking metal doors that are obviously cell doors, with the two barred window-grates. One stands empty, wide open. The other window grate frames Sam's bruised and bloodied face as he peers anxiously out. The big deadbolt on the cell door is totally pickable via Dean's own lockpick skills.'

Sam hears Fred's call and for a moment raw fear passes over his face, even though he can see for himself that they've come bearing explosives, weapons, and friends. She is not, for example, being dragged in by Misha as they speak. He manages to get his mental shit together a moment later and says, "Boy, am I glad to see you guys." He sounds weak, tired, and pained, as one might expect, but...also eager to get the Hell out of here.



To Mercy's sensitive nose, something about Sam himself smells just a little off, but it's really, really hard to put a finger on what the problem might be. He's filthy, but it's not that. Then again, god knows what they've been doing to the man, really.

And given there is like, water suddenly pouring into the cell through a crack in the wall after all that weird rumbling, maybe not the world's biggest concern right now.

Natasha, meanwhile, drops that gunman by virtue of her Crouching Badass, Hidden Widow routine, at the very least, and then May is slicing hers to bits. That leaves two more, who will shoot at those two lovely ladies even as they try to shoot at the soldier.

Winter Soldier has posed:
The Winter Soldier staggers slightly as Natasha's bullet hits him square in the back, shattering one of the ESAPI plates of the armor he wears. The second shot hits his arm, spasming his grasp open and making him drop the unconscious werewolf. He snarls, reaching for the wolf with his other arm, and he seems to speak to someone, though it's impossible to hear what he's saying from this distance-- or to tell who he's talking to. There's certainly no one in earshot. A handler, perhaps.

Then a shadow thrown across the trunk of the tree beside him shivers, and seems to rip open. The Soldier hauls the werewolf through it, seemingly directly into the tree, and vanishes.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The electrical zat is heard and then the subsequent sound of Dean and Fred moving further down the hallway can be heard by the coyote too. It brings her out of the room she ducked into and back near the duo. While she has their backs, as they work, the woman can't help but say, "I haven't scented Claire yet. Dammit, I was hoping they'd have both of them in the same facility." Mercy says, her voice severely unhappy, "Unless they have her deeper within the complex -" Continues the mechanic, but the rest of what she was about to say is lost as the world moves.

"What?" She gasps, even as she staggers to the side, only her reflexes saving her from sprawling upon the floor.

Thankfully, the door finally opens and Mercy can't help the look of relief that flashes across her features. That relief doesn't last long, however, not when water can be seen pouring forth from the wall. Nor the groans that can be heard from the structure itself. "Oh no." The mechanic says, even as the scent of Sam reaches her; filthy, unwashed, and something else. That something else within Sam's scent is considered for a hot second, but THEN Mercy's magical senses suddenly flare hot and bright thanks to the spell that's evoked outside with Wolf, Soldier, Agent and Assassin. "Magic!"

Winifred Burkle has posed:
There is quite a bit going on around them. The building shakes, there is fighting behind them. Fred snags a ring of keys from one of the guards outside and tries them all until one opens the large iron lock at the door to reveal the battered and bloodied Sam. Immediately, she rushes forward to grab at him, unfortunately uncaring or ignoring his wounds as she wraps her arms around him. This is not a spell. They've finally come to find him.

There are a lot of things happening. It's probably best they make their way out of this place, but Fred is mostly concerned with the fact that she finally found Sam alive and she is /also/ alive as it happens. She has no idea what Mercy smells or why she feels apprehensive. All Fred feels is relief. "C'mon, lets go."

Dean Winchester has posed:
"Sammy," Dean murmurs softly as the door to Sam's cell opens. After Fred has had her greeting and moves to get Sam rolling. He reaches over to his brother and offers a shoulder as a means to move forward. "Come on. We're getting out of here. The Impala isn't too far." There's a pause. "Can you walk?" because they're getting out of here even if it means Dean needs to carry him.

Yet the question is irrelevant because he's already trying to guide Sam to the door.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Somehow despite the shift in the ground, Natasha managed to hit him but the armor held. She is cursing in Russian at the sudden disappearance and the fact he got away with the wolf. More shots come her way from the gunman. She ducks around the tree to the opposite side, a shadow amongst the shadows as she works her way closer to the man, staying behind trees or brush, moving like a wraith. He has stopped firing but is keeping wary watch on the area where she had been. The hunter is now the prey as she works closer.

He catches a hint of movement out of the corner of his eye and is about to turn, bringing the weapon to bare. A moment later he is gurgling, a line of red across his neck. He falls, squeezing the trigger and firing a few rounds before he hits the ground. Natasha grabs the gun, claiming it as her own. Then she watches the man, green eyes locked on his face as she crouches about five feet away from his fallen form. She could be merciful, finish him off, give him a clean death. Instead, she watches coldly as he suffers. Only then does she turn to be sure May got her man.

Melinda May has posed:
May wastes a precious second or two exchanging gunfire with the last Spetnaz, but Barnes having managed to get away with the injured werewolf has officially pissed her off. She fires off the last two rounds in her pistol drops it, and pulls a length of red-ended shiny chain from inside her jacket.

She sets this new weapon to whirring in a wide vertical circle next to her, spinning itfast enough to be a blur. Then with a well-timed kick she launches the chain whip at the Spetnaz's cover. But instead of keeping a hold of the handle of the chain whip, she lets it go so that it hurtles toward the tree, the bladed weight at the non-handle end embedding into the trunk and the chain snapping around it to very soundly swat the man trying to back out of its reach.

Charging after her thrown weapon, May follows the chain whip around the tree, the butterfly swords now separated on in each hand, and with only a faint snarl of anger scissors her swords and lops the man's head clean off.

Only then does she turn to see Natasha watching her last opponent dying slowly. This earns the redhead a faint frown of concern before May puts the swords together in one hand again and moves to pull her chain whip free of the tree while speaking into the comms. "Winchester. Sitrep. Nat, snap out of it. We need to extract."

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam Winchester catches Fred tightly in his arms, stoically bearing the pain that flashes across his face even as he hugs her close and tight. His ripped, torn t-shirt and jeans shows some of the litany of bruises he bears, a dance of every bruise color whirling across pretty much every inch of exposed skin. One can well imagine the bruises continue beneath the lines of his clothing, too. Trackmarks march up and down his arms, beaded with blood; there have been injections. Lots of injections.

But for all that, Sam gives Dean a wry, grim half-smile as he gently lets Fred down and takes that proffered shoulder with every evidence of real gratitude. "I can bloody well walk out of /here/," he says, quoting /The Highlander/ in line and tone (though not accent), even as he scoops to lift a sidearm off of one of the tasered guards as they pass. He exhales in relief. Having a weapon in hand makes him feel immediately more like himself, and it shows. It's not an ICER. It's not his beloved Beretta. But. It'll do. Even though in all actuality, he needs the support and mostly just sort of holds the thing. It doesn't matter. He's not /helpless/ now, even if he clearly needs /help/. Then again, there's the question of how steady his aim will be with those shaking hands. The cry of 'magic' from Mercy does cause his features to tighten in alarm, causes his grip to tighten on that gun. Not a complication they need just when they're trying to get out...

But apparently a complication they are going to get.

Winter Soldier has posed:
The two remaining men outside are handily dispatched by the seasoned SHIELD agents. In fact, all the people who were engaging with the group seem to have either been dispatched, or are... for some reason... backing off. Maybe it's related to that tremor from earlier? Maybe something is going on that nobody knows about.

It makes it relatively easy for the group escorting Sam from his cell to retrace their steps back out, and also not too difficult for Natasha and May to come in to meet them if they should so desire. But somewhere in the middle of those two groups, there is a slight snag.

The snag appears in the shape of the Winter Soldier, blocking the last hall out for Sam and his group. His stance is loose and relaxed, blue eyes calm and amused over the mask shuttering the lower half of his face. At his side is someone very familiar, to Sam: the cold, infuriated features of Anastasiya Nikolaevna Zhuraleva stare balefully at him, angry her charge is flying the coop.

"Let me handle this," she hisses sidelong at the Soldier. Her stance is tense, recoiling as much from him as from anyone else, dislike in every line. The reason for her dislike probably becomes evident when he laughs at her.

"You're on call elsewhere, Nastka," he dismisses, and her lips pull back briefly in a snarl. "Run along."

She doesn't like it, but she obeys, leaving the Winter Soldier to draw his sidearm. "Leave him and live," he says, with the boredom of a man parroting expected phraseology.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Upon seeing Sam up and out of the cell Mercy offers a quick, relieved, "Sam, glad you're okay." Even if his scent does read a little off to her, still, he's alive. That's what matters. Now if only they could have found Claire here too, then their mission would really have been complete. Again, still quite successful.

Though that doesn't mean they haven't come away unscathed, not with the team down two werewolves and certain good 'guys' now doing questionable tactics.

With Fred and Dean helping Sam now, Mercy is off like a shot back down the hallway. Consider her a scout, as she traverses down said corridor, gaze and senses sharp. And while normally Mercy would catch the Soldier's scent, or Nastka's, tonight is another matter all together. Perhaps the blame can be placed upon the stench of detonated explosions, the worry for the group, a civilian upon a battlefield, or even the tumble of thoughts over the death of Aaron, but whatever causes it Mercy only has a second, possibly two, of forewarning that their escape route is blocked.

The mechanic skids to a halt, far enough away that she's not necessarily in arms-length of the Soldier and that's where she'll stay. Mercy will silently watch the exchange between Soldier and woman and when Nastka leaves, Mercy's attention turns to the Winter Soldier. Grimness lines her expression, wariness her body, as she watches the partially masked man. "No. He's ours, not yours."

"Where's Claire?" And while Mercy tries for an emotionless, unaffected voice, beneath that flat tone of hers is fear. This is a curve ball that they really didn't need.

And yes, that question of hers had to be asked, not that she expects an honest answer from /him/.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
As soon as she has her arms around Sam, Fred knows she shouldn't have launched herself at him. Her eyes quickly take in the torn clothing the bruises, the track marks on his arms. A shift of relief to worry crosses her face, but this isn't the time to discuss that. With Dean leading, Fred is right by Sam's side, an arm on her backpack filled with weapons and explosives.

Mercy is already off, down the hallways to scout ahead and she assumes that Natasha and May have cleared their way out of the facility. The fact that it just shook with what apparently was a magical force does not ease her fear. Sensibly, it makes her all the more eager to leave this place and get Sam to that Impala.

Of course, there is a wrinkle in that plan in the form of one Winter Soldier blocking their path. The last time she saw him, he turned her back on him after smacking her into a wall. Now, he makes a threat - promise? - that if the leave Sam here they will live. Stubbornly, she steps in front of Sam, nonverbally agreeing with Mercy's words. The question of Claire is also a good one. Why have they not found her yet?

Dean Winchester has posed:
While Mercy asks about Claire's whereabouts and Fred step in front of Sam to protect him, Dean slides his hand up into his sleeve where his fingers curl around the hunting knife he'd hidden against his body. His lips quirk. His nostrils flare. But his lips curve upwards into something more akin to a grimace than a smile, particularly with the fire alight in his eyes. "You know what they say... you can keep him." Pause. "Over my dead body." With a shrug he adds, "Wouldn't be the first time."

The flash of metal catches the light when Dean lunges forward to tackle the Soldier, aiming to put the jagged hunting knife through the man's shoulder. "Get Sam out of here!" he yells as he moves. This is definitely not his most thought-out plan.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
May's voice comes to Natasha and she frowns a bit at being called to task. Yet, she moves from the fallen man and heads She is heading back toward the blown out doorway to help watch the backs of those exiting now that the gunmen outsider are eliminated. She dashes in the direction of the blown out door. She knows May is with her, converging from the opposite side of the clearing. It's a matter of moments but as they get to the doorway, someone is coming out. An unfamiliar woman who looks completely ticked off over something. She's not part of the group thus she is the enemy. Immediately she pulls a Glock out of the holster, raising it to aim at the woman's chest. Not her head. Too easy to miss. Center mass, even if she dodges, she can likely get hit in the arm before she can get completely clear. "Stop right there."

Claire Temple has posed:
The Winter Soldier frames, in weapons and metal, the only route out --

And the structure groans again, beneath and above and all around all those unfortunate still to be inside. Dusted mortar continues to rain down in small, loosened pockets as the hall seems to briefly warp against its foundations.

Cold reservoir water feeds in from some split seams in the cement-and-stone walls, spreading along the ground, though with no threat than to wet shoes and slicken the ground in travelling wet.

More of that water beads down from hair-thin cracks webbing the ceiling.

There comes a silence, then something KNOCKS against the building in a deafening slam, and the interior of the dam shakes violently enough to even rock and stumble those inside off their feet.

Then it goes quiet.

Melinda May has posed:
May gets moving in step with Natasha when she moves away from the fallen man, detouring slightly to retrieve her dropped pistol. The paired swords are hastily cleaned and disappeared back under her jacket, the chain whip hanging bandolier-like across her torso to free her hands to reload her sidearm as they head back. Thus, the moment they see the unfamiliar woman leaving the base her pistol is up and aimed at Nastka, though unlike her fellow agent she's aiming for the woman's head.

It takes her a split second to supress the near-reflexive instinct to open fire, though she may end up regretting it later.

Sam Winchester has posed:
The way that Sam Winchester goes stark white at the sight of Nastka, the way his hazel eyes track her and the way that his fingers tighten on the gun-- held, now, in his left hand, as his right arm is over Dean's shoulder as he slumps on his brother-- might say /everything/ about which Hydra agent spent the vast majority of time hurting him while he was here. His mouth twists into an expression of rage. But then, the Winter Soldier sends her away. Threatens his brother, the woman he's in love with, and his friends. He half raises the gun, grimly.

He believes Barnes can be saved. And yet.

Part of him hesitates for other reasons, too. He knows first-hand what the Winter Soldier is capable of. Twenty days in Hydra's hands have carved certain fears into his bones. Maybe it's all over right here. Maybe he should surrender, go quietly, keep Dean alive, spare Fred from torture and violation at their hands, to say nothing of the others. There is nothing about him that is worth their fear, their pain, their deaths. The uncertain expression flits over his face, fear-tinged and a little desperate, but also strong...willing to do anything to protect those he loves.

Then Mercy speaks, coldly refusing to let him fall into their hands again, asking after Claire. Fred steps in front of him without saying a word, a tiny force of nature ready to defend him to the death. His eyes go a bit watery and red-rimmed. Cold water pours into his shoe, cold sweat down his cheeks.

He raises that gun all the way up.

And he points it at his childhood hero. He points it at James Buchanan Barnes. He points it at the man's head, finger tightening on the trigger, his face settling into grim lines as he remembers how he threatned to kill Dean, as he remembers all those nightmares of him dumping Dean's dead body into his cell. He decides, for the moment, to forget the food, the Vodka. He decides to even forget that the man is a victim too.

Hunting 101: someone cornered will fight back twice as hard.

Hunting 102: You can't save everybody.

And then Dean is-- "/Dean!/" He calls his brother's nam with raw desperation, even as he loses any semblance of a clean shot.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Where's Claire?! Mercy demands. The Winter Soldier's blue eyes turn to her, bland and calm, and he affects half a smile. "She is with me," he says. "She's fine. They wanted to terminate her, but I asked to keep her. She killed the medic I was using." There is a sense that is not the only reason.

He offers no other explanation. He just glances towards the others with Sam, his gaze passing over Fred and then settling on Dean. The resemblance is noted, and the Soldier starts to say jovially, "Ah, this must be the brother. I did hear that you were better as a matched set--"

And Dean is off, running towards him, leaping in a lunge with a knife. The Soldier flips his gun in his right hand once, as if considering. The knifepoint just touches his shoulder.

Then with a whirring scream of articulating steel, he reacts, blurring faster than the eye can follow, left arm slamming forward on a crash course to hit Dean square in the chest, with enough force to send him careening straight back where he came, and into his brother. The dam ROCKS as he does, and he sways with it as if expecting it, keeping his feet. "I've heard so much about you, in fact!"

MEANWHILE, at the entrance, Stasya Zhuraleva finds her departure cut off quite suddenly by the appearance of two women who mean business. She pulls her own weapon instantly, aiming it on Natasha, though soon enough a third weapon aims at her head, forming a nice Mexican standoff. Her wide, angry blue eyes flicker between Natasha and May, before her beautiful features curl in a sneer, and she tosses back her blonde hair. "Zdravstvuyte, Natalia Alianovna. You filthy traitor," she spits. Her freezing gaze sweeps towards May. Give her this: she's either crazy, or she's got balls. Or both. Her mouth sets in a hard, wry line. "I see you brought the Cavalry."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
When Fred steps in front of Sam, Mercy allows herself to take a step closer to the other woman. A wall has been formed, a line drawn in the proverbial sand, against the Soldier and this whole situation.

Then Dean offers those words of his, bravado and a promise. And while earlier Mercy's senses were confused, this close to everyone, Mercy's senses tell her neatly of a decision made by the elder Winchester. He's going to do something and soon, as such the coyote turns a look to Fred - it screams get ready - and then just like that Mercy's own readiness stutters to a halt. Her light-brown eyes swing back to the Winter Soldier. "Terminate - you asked to keep -" Why she still feels disbelief with this whole situation is beyond her, but slowly those shocks and awes are losing the surprise factor. Soon, Mercy will be numb to all this and one has to wonder what will happen to the big-hearted coyote after that. Thankfully, before she can formulate a comeback or a plan, Dean is launching himself forward. With that attack the mechanic begins to move; her feet making small splashes within the eddies of water upon the floor. While her movements started out as quick and sure-footed that crash against the damn shudders throughout the stone chamber and Mercy goes from feet to knees as she's knocked partially to the ground. At least with that stumble and fall of hers, Mercy finds herself pressed up against the cracked and seeping walls. Mostly out of the line of fire or direct attacks for a second.

Yes, she could hop immediately to her feet, but she doesn't. Instead she wastes precious seconds upon her bag, pulling out a taser mine and with a push of her thumb, she arms it. The countdown started. When she's mostly certain upon the timing, so that he's shocked by the time he reacts to it, she'll throw it. Straight at Winter Soldier - James Buchanan Barnes - the hero to so many people - and enemy to just as many.

Claire Temple has posed:
All the lights in the base blink and flicker.

The groaning of the stressed foundation stops. The falling dust goes silent. Water laps lazily through hairline cracks.

And then, distantly, through every wall and floor of the dam, something SCREAMS.

It happens all at once, as the Soldier blocks exit out --

-- an entire wall folds inwards behind the trapped group, as punching through solid cement comes the stygian black head of a giant serpent, as long as they are tall, glowing light pouring from its eyes. It shrieks in rage, the sound of it like women crying, and with monstrous strength forces more of its serpentine body inside.

The dam breaks and shudders just to hold it. Too big. Too much. Water from the reservoir, directly outside this load-bearing wall, floods in, stopped only short from being a fatal deluge by the serpent's own body -- for now.

The beast throws back its head and ROARS. Its six, glowing eyes narrow to flaring slits. It wrenches open its mouth, three sets of jaws jutting out, its stink like the breath of flyblown meat. Venom drips off its fangs.

It swerves and tilts its head, eyes locked on the trapped people, and the giant serpent lures first on the stink of magic. It snaps forward to try to hook Mercy into its jaws.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
The facility rocks again and Fred barely keeps herself on her feet. She remains - a bit unsteadily - where she is, guarding Sam from the Winter Soldier. Dean lunges forward and the hand in her bag pulls out the gun where she's loaded a single ICER bullet. She's not a sniper, she's not even a deadshot, but she has some practice, at least. She's ready to use the distraction of the charging brother to try and stop the Winter Soldier and hopefully slow him down.

However, just as she pulls out her gun, the water deluges and a large serpent crashes forward toward them, bringing freezing water, falling rocks and terror in its wake. Dean is also flung back toward them. In a tumble, the gun drops from her hand into the water. Scrambling, she doesn't attempt to retrieve it.

Instead, she reaches for Mercy, attempting to grab anything: her shirt, her arm, her leg, a piece of clothing and YANK her with all her might backwards and away from the jaws of the six eyed monster that has suddenly awoken.

"This is bad, this is really really bad guys," she says softly. Strangely, her voice isn't panicked, but more like she is announcing the score of a match where their favorite team is losing handily.

Dean Winchester has posed:
It feels like a blur. The lunge forward and Dean's effort to make purchase with the Soldier's flesh comes to an abrupt halt as he's hit by the full force of a heavy metallic arm to his chest. His body flies backwards, and for a split second, when his eyes turn up towards the ceiling in his reenactment of the last summer Olympics, his back arches far further than his body was ever designed.

And he's sent barrelling backwards towards his brother.

The ache in his back is nothing compared to his ribs and the pounding in his chest. He gasps for breath, trying to find some air, and forces it into his lungs. His eyes blink owlishly as the shock of the blow becomes processed. He groans. It's fortunate that adrenaline is such a wonder drug.

Dean's green eyes stare upwards at the snake snapping at Mercy, not quite processing the reality of the score. He tugs the Colt from his belt and aims the weapon at the monster while still plastered on the floor. "Fuck," he mutters before opening fire... while still laying on the floor. He needs a minute.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Natasha listens to the woman, reading her body language and realizing this one hates her. Which is interesting to find out that someone she doesn't know hates her with that level of venom. "You have me at a disadvantage," she murmurs to the woman, hoping that May doesn't go ballistic over the nickname. "You know who I am yet I have absolutely no idea who you are. Which must mean," and her smile turns dark, her emerald eyes as cold as the gems they resemble. "You're nobody."

She can see May reacting, tensing. She pulls the trigger herself, aimed dead center of the blonde's chest.

Melinda May has posed:
May does tense, but her expression doesn't even shift the tiniest bit at being called The Cavalry. Nat clearly already knows that that is the worst possible sign. There's no other flicker of any warning when she fires at the woman, and yes, she's aimed for a head shot. She's also following Rule #2 of Zombieland: Doubletap. But, just in case the woman manages to be uncooperative and continue living, she moves toward the blasted entrance of the hidden facility while pulling her ICER with her free hand.

The tremors aren't as bad out here so she doesn't lose her balance, but that screeching coming from inside is more than enough for May to decide it's time to get clear. And fast. "Nat, go get the quinjet. Now."

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sammy goes flying as Dean falls into him, hitting the water hard. It's luck and tenaciousness that allows him to keep his purloined gun up and out of it, to keep it from hitting anyone else. He wraps his right arm protectively about Dean to keep him up and out of it too-- his brother has /seriously/ had some /serious/ issues with water lately for some reason, and he'd just as soon the man not drown here-- even as his brother fires at the massive snake. Fred's got Mercy, or is trying to, which kind of leaves the brothers to do their thing.

So he fires too, over Dean's shoulder. He even smiles a little. A twisted, bitter little thing, that smile, as cold as the creature's blood.

There's a giant monster. It's trying to kill them. His life makes complete and total sense for the first time in 20 days.

Some part of him spends 30 seconds trying to plumb the depths of his encyclopedic brain to figure out what this thing is and what his weakness is. Then he snaps back to reality. They'd better hope the weakness is 'takes a massive amount of damage and then dies', because if they needed to, say, find the silver-tipped spear once cradled by a virgin from Greece for 180 days under the thin sliver of silver moonlight, they are /shit out of luck./

Winter Soldier has posed:
The Winter Soldier goes silent as the taser mine flies through the air towards him. He doesn't appear to register quite what it is, but whatever it is he's contemptuous of it, judging by the way he starts to bat it away. Then it triggers, of course, delivering him a nasty shock that sends him stumbling sideways against a wall. On a regular man it might have been a knockout, but the Winter Soldier mostly looks mad. A vicious look crosses his features, the narrow-eyed rage of a predator angry to be bitten by intended prey, and his gun hand lifts--

--and pauses. He cants his head, listening to something. And Something comes through the wall a moment later. He frowns.

"You woke the lady up," he observes, holstering his weapon. Unnecessarily, he adds, "She won't be happy." At the least, he isn't attacking them too, but he certainly isn't helping, either.

MEANWHILE, out by the entrance, the Mexican standoff continues. Natasha completely dismisses Stasya. The insult sends her blue eyes flying wide with rage, and acting on pure fury, she pulls the trigger at the same time as she flings herself to one side. Natasha's bullet gets her in the arm, May's in the shoulder. She chokes out an agonized gasp as she hits the ground, but-- working on pure adrenaline-- manages to roll, spring up, and make a run for the helicopter that descends into the clearing, plainly arriving to pick her up to shuttle her off to wherever she's meant to go.

Natasha must guess as much, because she's on the move too in pursuit, catching hold of a skid of the chopper just as it lifts off and away. She might find out something about where it's bound. At worst, it'll at least be a quick ride over to the quinjet.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The lights flicker; surely that's not a good sign.

And then comes the unearthly scream. That sound raises the little hairs upon the back of Mercy's neck.

It causes the coyote to turn away from the Winter Soldier; which is good, because she doesn't see that gun almost raised against her. Her eyes are now trained over her shoulder, behind their little group, her hearing helpfully pinpointing where that sound is coming from. Echoes or not. When the thing punches itself through the wall Mercy can only stare horrified at it. The skin of her face loses that bronzed cast to it, instead going towards wane. Pale. Drawn. "Oh my god." Whispers the coyote and while she sees that maw of death headed her way, her reaction is too slow. Far too late. Thank god for Fred, however. The other more slender woman easily grabs the stunned Mercy by the back of her shirt and with a heft and a heave the coyote is yanked away from certain death.

And with only inches to spare. Though not without losing something. A steel-toed boot. The maw was close enough to hook that nearest boot off her foot with a harsh jerk of Mercy's leg. That movement of her leg causes the coyote to reflexively kick back at the large toothy muzzle. Towards flesh versus teeth. Perhaps it'll be like a shark and have a soft spot on its nose. Maybe. One can hope.

And even if that kick of hers connects, or not, Mercy is already twisting around to scramble further away from the beast. "Very bad." The mechanic agrees when those soft words of Fred's are heard, even as another part of Mercy's brain winces at the sight of Dean being taken down so quickly. There's a second internal wince when brother collides with brother. And to think this was going so swimmingly just minutes earlier.

"We need to get out now." States the mechanic, as she continues her mad movements away from the beast. With the struggle to get away the weight and heft of her bag suddenly pings within Mercy's brain. "Fred." The mechanic says suddenly, "Give me whatever explosives you have left." The screen of her cellphone, which has still managed to stay strapped to her forearm, is touched and while it reacts sluggishly it shines quite brightly after a heartbeat. The canvas bag is unzipped then, even as the coyote starts to tap various icons upon her screen. "If this works we're going to need to run. Or swim. Possibly both. Though perhaps we'll get lucky and it'll die quick enough and keep the hole plugged -" Someone is babbling here - nerves, fright, dear-god-this-is-beyond-crazy-please-help, it's all there.

Then once Fred has dropped /everything/ into the bag Mercy rises to her feet, her footing a little unbalanced thanks to having one boot off and one on. "MOVE!" She calls to the two shooting brothers, "NOW!" And just like that Mercy is pulling her bag of bombs from her torso and hurling it to the beast's mouth. Or somewhere sufficiently close. Then like earlier when the time is right the coyote stabs at the detonate button.

Melinda May has posed:
May can only let Natasha go as she chases after the other Russian woman -- that's their business now -- and she turns to find out what's keeping the others. And that's where she finds Barnes actually holstering his gun as the others scramble to get away from a giant lizard/snake maw thing. Okay then. First things first. She fires two shots from her ICER at the back of the Winter Soldier's head -- these are the combo taser/dendrotoxin rounds -- in the hopes of giving the others a clear path out if nothing else.

She echoes Mercy completely unintentionally as she yells at the others. "MOVE!"

Winifred Burkle has posed:
There is no hesitation from Fred as she dumps what explosives she has into the offered bag that Mercy has offered her. Pushing herself up from the awkward position she was in while pulling Mercy out of the maws of a fantastical six-eyed snake, she takes the next few moments to retrieve the gun that she dropped in the falling and the crashing. It takes her a few moments, but she finds it, holding it more tightly now.

The Winchesters are shooting at the monster from the floor, but with the bombs, they're going to need to get out of here fast. Instead of shooting, she holds out hands to try and help them to standing. "We gotta go," she tells them, because things are going to explode and it's far better for them to be as away from those things as they can be when that happens.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean rallies when his brother props him up and begins firing over his shoulder. He reaches for the rock bed beneath him, and he pushes himself to a stand. Now he begins to move towards the serpent, firing with the Colt before reaching into his jacket behind him to grab another, larger, semi-automatic weapon from his pants. The shots spray loudly //Ra-ta-tat//.

Sam lets Dean go the moment he rises, standing with him, his own expression a mirror of his brother's. He doesn't have another weapon to grab, but he keeps at it with the weapon he has, moving forward as well.

At least until two things happen: Sam's weapon begins to dry fire as he runs out of ammuntion, and...Mercy is yelling at them to move. "Dean!" Of course...move /where/ is the question, but...he supposes any direction that is /away/ from the massive explosion will do. "Fred!" Just in case Fred missed the 'move' memo too. He flings the useless gun aside and starts booking it, reaching out to try to grab her wrist so he can haul her along too, intent on /not losing her here/.

Sometimes kismet offers the best timing, and Sam's warning comes as the last of the rounds have found their way towards the beast. Dean follows his younger brother's movement--tossing his weapon to the side and sprints with both his hands pumping hard at his side, splashing up excess water as he moves. "It had to be water!" Dean calls as he moves.

"What the Hell is it with you and water anyway?" Sam demands, not that this is really more than a rhetorical question as he flings his free arm over his head. He anticipates snake guts filling this tunnel like at any minute now, and all sorts of Snake Related Debris, and he suspects its not going to be pleasant. At all.

Made a deal with the devil in my teen years!" Dean calls back with a smirk, arms still pumping furiously at his sides. "Been paying for it ever since!" The smile though, complete with dimples, follows with a quick, "At least I didn't lose the shirt! I fucking love this shirt!"

Even while running for his life, Sam can't help but make the Face.

Claire Temple has posed:
That head lashes quick as a snakestrike --

-- but Mercy is pulled away, escaping the click of those meathook jaws by hairs. The monster snarls its agitation, swinging its head, catching and punching the many barbs and horns of its angular head on the walls and ceiling of the dam. Forced into so small a place, the serpent has no agility, no dexterity to meet its hunt, and it screeches as it shakes its head, crumbling the frame of the hall, and raining down dangerous pieces of mortar.

It pushes forward, its scaled body eeling through the broken wall, helped by the sheen of water lapping in through breaks in the concrete.

That same water tides forward, almost immediately shin-deep, freshwater cold.

The monster closes deeper, pincering the captured group between its jaws and the Winter Soldier -- who does not act now, needs not to --

The serpent opens its jaws, and immediately recoils when gunfire from the Winchesters pepper into its head. One shot from Dean mulches one of its six eyes, and the thing howls in pain, swinging its too-large head as more of those well-aimed bullets punch through its scales. Unnatural, yes. Bulletproof, now. It bleeds black ichor that hits the cement and froths noxiously.

It tenses its neck as if to snap at them, jaws wide, and that bag of bombs careens into the monster's mouth.

It neither notices nor cares. It swallows it down, bares its teeth, and then --

-- Mercy's finger hits the detonate. The head explodes. It opens up in a splatter of ichor, those monstrous screams silenced, as the serpent's headless neck hits the ground in a boneless heap.

For a moment, nothing happens. Another day, another dead monster.

Until the ripped neck flesh twitches, and knots, braiding back to some macabre life, as two heads slide out into life free from that fatal trauama, opening both their six eyes, wuffing the rattling breaths of newborn life.

The first head of the hydra sees them all in flight, escaping, and memory plays in its glowing eyes. It screams. The second head lashes forward, and its tongue coils like a whip up Fred's leg, dripping venom that will burn through clothes -- even burn skin if left too long. It tries to wrench her off her feet, to drag her into its jaws.

Winter Soldier has posed:
The Winter Soldier has backed into a hall branching off from the main one in which people fight with the great serpent. He does not seem interested in joining the fray, what with his holstered weapon. He only reacts when he hears May's approach from behind, turning sharply and lifting his metal arm. One round glances off the steel shoulder, though the other digs deep into that spot between shoulder and neck, finding a little joint between the metal of his prosthetic and the plates of his armor, sending another jolt through his system.

He hisses and backs off further. It's not clear whether the toxin will significantly slow him, given his constitution, but some is better than nothing. And it seems to be contributing to keeping him out of the fray.

He has cause to thank his decision to stay out when the serpent's head explodes. His positioning means he avoids being showered in most of the gore, though he does frown. She'll be mad NOW.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
May is here now. Natasha not?

Where's Darryl? The water's getting deeper.

Those idle thoughts flit through Mercy Thompson's head, even as her finger lifts up from the touchscreen of her phone. Grim satisfaction burns within her gaze when the beast swallows that bag of bombs and when its head explodes, that satisfaction turns to triumph. Though that triumph soon turns to sounds of disgust, as the gore and the ichor rains down. Then hisses of pain as the fluid from the beast hits exposed skin and burns. While the deeper water is totally worrisome right this moment Mercy is grateful, as she drop her arms into said water and /washes/ off the acidic blood and guts of the monster.

And while she's mentally breathing a sigh of relief that sigh soon freezes as the body moves, that headless neck twitching and suddenly reanimating. Only with two heads now, not just one. "No." Breathes the coyote, "NO!" Is that same word shouted, anger in that singular syllable as she straightens from her hurried wash-up. And while she could have said more that next attack comes, this time aimed at Fred.

"Look out!" Shouts the coyote, though that warning of hers perhaps coming a little too late to really help.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Fred is quick to move with the others. It was only fear of leaving the Winchesters behind that paused her own rush forward away from both explosions and horrible snake monsters. The fear of the Winter Soldier only makes her fear of these beast all the more intense. The man who batted her away like nothing is now stepping aside to watch this new contender. That does not bode at all well as far as she is concerned.

Fred, certainly, is right to be worried. As they run, there is noxious blood that she attempts to wipe off as she runs. The warning from Mercy is moments too late as the second head's tongue wraps its way around her ankle. The hydra yanks and Fred is easily pulled off of her feet.

It's only the hold Sam has on her wrist that keeps her from being immediately whipped backward and into the hydra's mouth. Unable to help herself, Fred shrieks - "Sam!!" - in both surprise and pain as the venom starts to burn through her jeans. The gun is again dropped and she desperately reaches her other hand out to grab at his wrist.

Dean Winchester has posed:
The spurt of acidic monster blood and guts that hits Dean's jacket (which is, thankfully armoured) doesn't immediately cause the fabric to decay. And he doesn't look back until the beast screams. He twists around to hear Mercy's warning and his jaw drops. "Oh, come on!" But there's scarcely time for brotherly snark as the Hydra wraps its tongue around Fred's leg.

"Hold on!" he urges as he reaches to the large hunting knife at his ankle. "I knew I should've brought a machete," he murmurs under his breath. His hand lifts high, weapon in hand, and attempts to bear the blade down against the beast's flesh.

Melinda May has posed:
May takes another shot at Barnes, but then dismisses him as the Hydra -- nw with two heads -- starts tearing into her allies. She reaches into her jacket again and pulls an odd little object.

"EVERYONE OUT!" Yeah, they're wearing comms but she's still yelling, but she moves to get at the very least between Sam and the creature and sets off the object in her hand.

It appears to be the world's most compact can of hairspray, with an ignition source attached. Yes, never let it be said that May doesn't have keen fashion sense.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Two heads grow where one once was. Sam feels Fred lifted up and out of his grip. He holds on hard as she screams for him, wrapping large arms around her and tugging her back, fighting with the beast to keep her from going down its gullet while his brother tries to machete the thing's tongue away for it. Adrenaline gives him strength, that, and fury, but disarmed as he is he is limited in what he can do. Even if he were armed this would probably take priority, however. He sets his feet; a slip now could be deadly for Fred, and he knows it.

He lets out a wordless, defiant snarl as he tries to pull her back, not even bothering with encouragement. He didn't exactly start this escape with all of his strength and stamina.

But he doesn't know what it means to give up, either.

Not that this really stops the more compact May from slipping under his grip to get between him with that device. He's able to sort of stretch and hold Fred right over her head, Moose that he is. Should he actually snag her, he'll yank her back fast, and then he'll just try to scoop her up and carry her out of there before she can get grabbed again, hoping that whatever SHIELD toys the Agent brought with her can do for this thing.

Winter Soldier has posed:
The little group, beleaguered, struggles to keep Fred from the hydra's jaws. Shouting, screams, the growls of the serpent, the rush of water and the groan of the structure around them... all form a cacophony that echoes and amplifies in the tight space.

Those fangs flash within inches of Sam Winchester, as he wrenches Fred over his head.

A sharp whistle cuts through it all. The source is the Winter Soldier, walking along the right wall, his right hand lifted in display. His own blood weeps down the palm, from a slash across it. The red drops fall and dissolve into the now ankle-deep water.

"Bayushki bayu," he says. "Idi spat'."

Claire Temple has posed:
Slowly, leisurely, that tongue retracts, its tether dragging Fred back along the ground -- pooling now dangerously with that freezing water -- toward those widening triple-set of jaws. Its rows of fangs layer over each other like beds of needles. Its venom drips.

It drips down its tongue, and within seconds of touching, it already burns through her jeans -- it lays burning agony straight onto the skin.

It may do worse, and possibly wood -- save not for Dean's intervention, daring close enough to hack straight through the meat of its tongue. The hydra shrieks and lets go, its tongue severed: in hunger and pain it snaps its jaws forward to retrieve the bite of meat it so deserves.

Those teeth close, with a whuff of its nauseous breath, a heartbeat away as Sam helps pull Fred to safety.

Denied its meal, the hydra lunges forward, pulling more of its massive body inside -- its full length thus unseen, but easily too big to fit all in here -- as the walls begin to collapse to hold it. The distant roof warps to hold its intrusion, and the reservoir lake pours threateningly in.

The beast seems to hit a spot that traps it, hard to fit two heads in the narrow confines of the hall, and one head bits its jaws into one wall to try to worry and tear it down -- shaking cement down from the ceiling -- as the other head, ichor bleeding from its missing tongue, lifts high to stare down at the escaping group.

It recoils --

-- and the Soldier splits his palm. The monster goes still, two pairs of nostrils scenting the blood, and turns twelve glowing eyes his way. Those two heads still into silence.

And then, fury forgotten, the hydra recedes, heads bowed in quiet deference, the monster heeled to harmlessless at his feet.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Stay. Run. Go.

That shout from May is heard, but Mercy doesn't budge. Not yet. Not until she knows Fred and everyone is safe. When the beast recoils from its tongue being severed Mercy begins to move. The appearance of the Winter Soldier is noted and while she would love to just skid over to him and bodily slam him into the wall, she doesn't. One, cause he'd likely just stop her, and two, it's time to run. Especially as the room shakes and disintegrates around them.

Truly, the group is now at that point that it's run away so they can come back and fight another day, sort of situation.

The only thing Mercy Thompson does do is stop at that mangled checkpoint, to Aaron's fallen wolfen body, and from his neck she retrieves a collar. Upon the collar is a small matte dog collar, which holds his name and an out-of-state phone number. "I'm so sorry." She whispers to his mangled head, then Mercy is back up with collar in hand, and running more. "Has anyone seen Darryl?"

Winifred Burkle has posed:
The venom of the hydra soaks through her jeans, burning away parts of it and leaving behind bubbling and angry red marks on Fred's ankle even as Dean cuts through and it releases her. With a gasp, she drops to the ground, using the connective point of Sam to pull herself upward. Though her ankle shrieks in pain, she winces and bites back any other cry at it. May's intervention and yell is right. They need to get out of here. Now.

On any other occasion, she would fight with Sam's attempt to pick her up to carry her out of there - especially in his condition - but, fighting only wastes time and they have very little of it. Once Dean cuts through the tongue and the beast recoils, she is scooped up and carried.

Given this chance, she watches The Winter Soldier slash at his palm and the hydra obey his whim. Fred's eyes narrow at that.

Melinda May has posed:
Okay, so much for D&D lore. Coulson will be extremely disappointed. But, she doesn't like that the creature just simmers down at whatever Barnes just said, and her ICER immediately snaps toward him again. She moves to keep herself between the Soldier and Sam as he and the others start moving to get out and away.

If she can figure out a way to subdue... no. Nat took off after that other Russian woman, May's job is now solely to get Sam and the others away from here as intact as possible. So she just keeps a bead on him to fire the instant he tries anything, and will keep proverbially herding the others clear.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam Winchester's head snaps around when he realizes someone /died/ rescuing him...and someone else has gone missing. A look of profound guilt and shame creases over his face, even as he holds Fred closer, trying to protect her from any further trouble with his own, broader body, bends his head down, and keeps running, happy to let May cover them. More than happy.

He'd have to keep running anyway. Dean Winchester is all but bodily dragging both of them to the car. Dean all but flings the back seat door open and shoves them both inside, slamming the door before taking the driver's seat. Winchester the Elder doesn't even bother to buckle his seatbelt before he starts that Impala.

It goes racing down the highway fast and sharp. Sam opens his mouth to protest-- there were /others involved in his rescue after all/, and it might be nice to make sure they get out alive too-- but he has a feeling Dean isn't going to be hearing any of it. But then May likely has some good SHIELD transport that can take everyone else back out of there if need be, and as it is...

As it is, Sammy is dizzy. So dizzy. He puts a hand to his head and sways. But he's done. Sammy batteries now at 0. Too much exertion on too little food, too little sleep, too much pain. Soaking wet or not, he just collapses in an ungainly heap there in the back seat. He tries not to press Fred into involuntary service as his pillow. He really tries. But...

It probably happens anyway.