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You look over your shoulder as a vaguely familiar voice calls your name out on the street. After a moment of searching, your eyes land on the black SUV pulling up beside you. You stop walking as it brakes to a halt, and lo and behold who sits just several feet away from you.
You hadn't seen him in almost a year. Not since the last time he came by to see you at your new apartment he had helped you get. Seeing him was the last thing you were expecting on your way to the bookstore. But you'd recognize the voice anywhere. It was hard to forget. Raspy. Serious. Just like he was.
Plus he sounded like the funny guy from The Incredibles. But he was almost as illusive as the Sasquatch of legend.
"Hey, Uncle Nick." You walk over to the passenger window as he lets it all the way down.
"You on your way home?"
"I'm actually on my way to meet some friends. I'm headed that way."
"Hop in. I'll give you a ride."
"Are you sure?" You couldn't keep the surprise from your voice. You learned years ago questioning his work life was pointless, but you knew how occupied it kept him. "It's not that long a walk if you have somewhere to be." You observed his dramatic spy like clothes, but didn't say anything else.
"I'm passing that way. Won't be a problem."
"Thanks." Like usual, you just rolled with his erratic reappearances, and got in the car. You were used to Uncle Nick popping up out of nowhere after months of never hearing from him and acting like it was normal.
He watched you fasten your seatbelt before driving off. "Try not to look so surprised. I'd give a ride to any of my nieces, if I had any others. I'm nice like that."
You just give him a humorous smile and let him play off his most recent months-long absence. Even if he wasn't around, he was still there for you when you needed him.
"You can drop me off at the bookstore near my place, that's where I'm meeting them."
"How are things at the apartment?"
"Good. Rent's always paid. Landlord doesn't bother me." You explain, referring to whatever mysterious yet extremely helpful agreement he set up for you when he got you emancipated.
He only nodded. "Meeting your friends at the bookstore, huh? Your generation still read these days?"
"Some of us..." You smile at the casual old-man question. "They want to see what's new in the comic book section so that's why we're meeting there."
"Is that what sixteen year olds are doing on their Saturdays now," he remarked rhetorically.
"I'm seventeen, Uncle Nick."
Fury looked directly to you, as if believing you were trying to trick him. "Since when?"
"Since two months ago. Like always," you answer, grinning in lighthearted amusement.
"... I don't appreciate you reminding me of my age." He looked serious, but the humor was there. He shook his head and looked back ahead to the road. "Years keep getting shorter and shorter."
His lack of remorse and birthday knowledge didn't bother you. The two of you didn't see each other enough, and weren't close enough that you expected to give or get presents for each other for things like this. Heck, the man only called maybe twice a year to check in on you since living on your own. You weren't even sure how old he was. You knew his work, whatever it was, kept him busy. Well beyond the confines of your typical busy, anyway.
He was the only blood relation you had left, but knowing he was there was good enough for you.
His black car pulled up briefly at a light, stopping alongside a police car on an otherwise empty street. You pulled your phone out to send a message to your friends, tapping at the characters on the screen.
"Wanna see my lease?"
You look up at Nick when he speaks, then follow his gaze past you. Two officers sat in the squad car, nosily staring into the SUV you two sat in, as if driving down the street were cause for suspicion.
One then muttered something into their radio, and the other one sounded a whooping siren from the speaker in response, before pulling off.
You just look away and roll your eyes.
Nick pulled off after them once the light turned green, passing through the intersection as you continued to type on your phone.
Neither of you had been prepared for the second cop car that came hurtling into the side of your car at full speed. Or the third one that rammed into the back of your vehicle, boxing you in against the sidewalk.
You had felt the car lift from the ground as the cop car forced you up against a row of sidewalk pillars, making you slam into your side door and hit the side of your head on the window, phone falling to the floor.
When the second and third blow hit, you were sure there must've been a pile up in the road. Cars that couldn't brake in time before crashing into you.
You suddenly heard a distinct ringing in your head, a pain in your shoulder growing quickly. It started to waver in and out of your ears as you finally sat still for a moment. And when the car started talking, you knew you must have been imagining things.
"Multiple impact injuries detected. Anesthetic injection recommended."
A fourth undercover police car appeared while the two of you sat there like sitting ducks. Nick reached over to the glove compartment in front of you and grabbed two cylindrical injectors.
"Police dispatch shows no units in this area."
He ripped the cap off of one before methodically stabbing it into your arm. You hissed at the sharp sting, and he did the same with himself.
"What is that?" You watched him at first, noticing the blood on his head and arm, but then slowly looked up when you noticed the commotion he was warily observing outside. The police cars were empty now, their passengers on the street and surrounding you with guns drawn, making your eyes widen.
Giant black vans drove up, letting out around a dozen men with the word SWAT on their vests and what looked to be AR-15 rifles, same as what the policemen were already aiming plenty of towards you.
Something told you the two of you were in a lot of trouble.
"Uncle Nick, what's going on?!"
His partially bloodied face showed no sign of surprise, but maybe a dash of concern towards your situation.
"Who did you piss off?!"
Two questions that he never answered. He eyed each faux cop and SWAT agent, sizing up your odds in his brain. "Get us out of here."
A diagram of the vehicle appeared on the windshield, red flashing warningly. Red was never good. "Propulsion systems offline."
"Are you talking to the car?" All at once, every rifle in the vicinity starts firing on the car, making you jump and press your back into your seat as the glass stops each bullet from hitting you, in hopes that it would magically absorb you into a state of safety. "Why are they shooting at us?!"
"Hurry up and reboot, damn it!" Nick snapped, glancing at the windshield before looking back to the firing squad.
At some point you became aware of how badly you were shaking. Your hands clamped protectively over your head, paranoid of all the bullets rushing towards you despite the bulletproof windshield. You were being shot at by at least two dozen assault rifles right now all at once. Oh how your Saturday had taken a turn...
"Stay calm and do everything I say, got it?"
You only nod vigorously, taking bracing breaths in attempt to ease yourself.
There was so much noise. Sounds of guns firing over each other, orders being shouted, and glass cracking and threatening to forfeit what was your only form of cover right now. You didn't know how long it lasted until the glass became almost completely littered with cracks.
But suddenly it stopped. The street became silent once again, but you saw every eye and automatic still trained on you. A group of the SWAT team came into view of your uncle's window. They were setting up a battering ram.
"Warning: window integrity compromised."
"Ya think?!" Fury unlatched his seat belt and pulled himself over next to you, putting some distance between him and the window, and bracing you between himself and the car door. "Hold on."
You were already gripping onto the door handle and armrest console for dear life. But even that hadn't been enough to steady you for the sheer amount of impact the battering ram made as it slammed against the driver window, rocking the car and shaking everything inside.
"Window integrity: thirty-one percent. Deploying countermeasures."
"Hold that order."
"What?! Countermeasures sound very important right now!" You commented in terrified confusion.
"How long until propulsion is up?"
Another smash to the window makes your head hit your side window again, and you try desperately to ground yourself better, because you knew this wasn't stopping.
"Window integrity: nineteen percent. Defensive measures advised."
Another merciless hit left a widening circular crack to the window, spiking your fear up to a thousand percent. "Uncle Nick!"
"Window integrity: one percent."
You yanked your hand back when the armrest moved beneath your hand and a giant gun emerged from the inside. In horror you watched as Nick grabbed it and returned endless rounds of fire onto your assailants, taking down nearly everyone in view. Bodies dropped, and suddenly a grenade fired from the bottom slot, exploding one of the police cars in a fiery eruption. Black smoke and orange fire boomed as one car was sent flying into another.
"Propulsion systems back online."
"Full acceleration, now!"
He continued firing at every threat in sight, as several of the fake policemen were still standing and firing their guns toward him.
Fury's car rumbled below you, tires screeching against the asphalt as they unsuccessfully tried to move full force past the car smashed into its front, then intuitively switched into reverse.
You finally drove off of the scene, leaving behind a fraction of the enemy agents this had started with. The wheel twisted and turned as you sped down the street.
"Initiate vertical takeoff!"
"Flight systems damaged."
"Then activate guidance cameras!" Nick moves back over into the driver's seat, taking over steering. "Gimme the wheel! And get me Agent Hill."
Your head whipped over to him at his use of the word 'agent'. Not because any of this happening to him totally surprised you, no. Maybe more so at the fact that he finally said something so job revealing in front of you.
"Communications array damaged."
"Well what's not damaged?!"
"Air conditioning is fully operational."
"Full blast! It's hot as hell up in here."
You look back as police cars continue to chase after Fury, and he expertly weaves through the cars on the road. You were going so fast that your whole body tensed in fear that you would crash.
"Get me an alternate route!"
"All vehicles stopped on Roosevelt Bridge. 17th Avenue clear in three blocks; directly ahead."
"We're gonna have to take it." You heard him mutter, switching gears. The car lurched as he pushed the accelerator harder, speeding and passing a pick up truck on your right side. But the opening wasn't wide enough and his car caught the back left of the truck, causing it to spin around and land on part of the sidewalk.
"No! What are you doing?!" You look back frantically at the discarded truck that was left blocking part of the street and sidewalk, with an injured and confused driver inside.
He only drove on and sped in between two cars, scraping the sides as he propelled forward. But the assassins' cars were relentless, and simply pulled up and weaved around other cars to take more shots at the S.H.I.E.L.D. director.
"Get down!" He ordered and reached over you to pull the lever of your seat, making you fall back with the recliner seat just as more shots fired into the car, splintering your already bullet riddled window from the other side.
Your hands flew to your head when one agent hung out of their car and fired at Fury as a city bus passed between them, with no remorse for shooting through the bus full of civilians in attempt to get to him. The bus driver slammed on the brakes at the sound of passengers screaming and glass shattering under gunfire, which allowed the assassins a clear shot after passing by.
But Nick Fury wasn't having it. He yanked his steering wheel to the side and full on collided his car up against the other, putting him right up against his attempted murderer. He wrestled him for the gun, punching and dodging unsuccessfully.
While he was distracted, the other car pulled up alongside your side of the vehicle, their gun dead set on your uncle. And at this point, you were just about tired of getting shot at. You shot up and lifted your hands, fingers clamping in towards your palms as you attempted to take hold of the weapon before they could use it. It wasn't so difficult from ten feet away, so when you could feel the metal energy rushing through your fingers, you clutched onto it and pulled the firearm out of their car, letting it take the driver with him and fall down into the street.
The passenger stared at you in inconvenienced shock, but quickly recovered, and jumped up and into the driver's seat to steer before he could crash. He grabbed his own firearm, so you gripped the bottom of his car with your magnekinesis, and yanked your arm back as hard as you could. The squad car flipped from underneath itself, and it was left it in the dust.
Nick had finally managed to grab the gun from his opponent and hit him over the head with it, then shot him in the shoulder. He turned back to you, having missed your measures of defense. "Stay down!"
"Warning: approaching intersection."
His head snapped back to the road, and just before you could drive out into traffic he slammed on the brake. However, the fake cops were too busy going for the kill to take notice, and they drove ahead into the intersection just as a huge truck was passing through. It made hard impact, t-boning your attackers and not stopping until the smaller car wrapped around it, landing in the center of the intersection. There was no question of whether they survived. Despite their malintentions getting them there, you couldn't help but grimace at the sight of them being completely obliterated by the truck.
Fury didn't wait a second to swerve left and hightail it out of there. Now that you shook the last cop car in sight it was time to disappear. For a moment, it seemed you were in the clear. But you hardly got a block or two away until you saw a car driving down the wrong side of the road and right toward you. This time another fake SWAT van, with an agent hanging out of the side window and pointing an AR towards you.
"Windshield integrity at forty-three percent."
"Damn it." Nick stopped the car and put it in reverse, backing up to turn onto the side road before your attackers could get in range, but you stopped him. Your hand reached out towards the brake, making a fist to hold it down.
"What the hell?!" Your uncle exclaimed at his car's sudden disobedience. "What's the problem?!"
The SWAT van was racing toward you at dangerous speed, but you knew even if you escaped down the side road you weren't going to lose them. So you decided you would stop them right now. Call it an adrenaline high, or powerful intuition. You'd never practiced with your powers in a real situation like this before... So you didn't even truly understand your confidence in what you were doing as you reached your other hand out and stopped the array of bullets between you and the other car. Tens of bullets flew through the air only to get caught in your magnetic field. You only waited until the mercenaries stopped firing to drop them to the ground. But they were still speeding towards you, less than a building's worth away.
You could feel the energy pulsing through your hands, feeding you intuition and protection. So you used it again, to reach out and manipulate their steering wheel. Their van jolts a hard left much too quickly, so it trips over itself and spins a couple times in the air before dropping and skidding to a stop in the middle of the intersection, only yards away from your car now. No one else was hurt. It was a clean countermove.
Panting, you watched the crash scene, and lowered your hand. All was suddenly quietly around you, and you turned your head to a very confused Nicholas.
"What... the hell!"
You grimaced. Even his surprised face didn't look all that surprised. It was more like... accusatory and displeased.
"Escape route recommended."
"Keep your eyes open, and hold on." He ordered as he put his car back in drive, but you could tell by the look and way he said it that the two of you would be having a conversation later.
"Disengage brake," the car helpfully advised as he tried to accelerate.
He looked at you, and you shook your head. "Oh–" you relaxed your left hand, and the brake releases. He veered a hard right and took off down the next road, hoping to get to safety before another damn police car or SWAT van showed up.
"Get us off the grid!"
"Calculating route to secure location."
"How did you just do that," he demanded.
"It's a long story."
"Well ya better start talking, cause last I knew my niece couldn't do that!" He glanced at you, staring for a moment in suspicion. "Are you really Alex?"
"What? Yes it's me!"
"Then you've got some explaining to do–"
"So do you!" You fired back as he sped down the road, wind whipping past through shattered window openings. "You just killed like twenty guys back there!"
"They were trying to kill us."
"You mean you."
"Us. You're a witness now." He swerves left as directed, making you fall back on your reclined seat again. Other drivers frantically scrambled to avoid the madman. You had to pull yourself back upright, as well as the back of your seat before you got whiplash or something of that unpleasant effect.
"Get back in your seatbelt, we're not secure."
Obediently you pulled the strap back across your chest. "Ya know, I knew it! I knew you were in the CIA or something!"
"You don't know shit!" He countered, denying the possibility of you, his teenage niece, catching on to him that easily.
"You wear an eye patch, you only dress in menacing black or leather, and you contact me like once a year! It's a little obvious!"
"We can discuss my work life when we're certain we're not dead. Now stop asking me so many damn questions and stay vigilant!"
Quickly you looked behind to see if any mercenaries were still following you, still gripping tightly onto the car as he wildly steered.
Fury kept a lead foot on the accelerator, determined to get to security. That was, until a figure appears just up the road. He squinted through the bullet punctures at the darkly cloaked man.
"Ah hell no..."
You look to him in concern, then ahead to whatever he was gawking at. And it was impossible to miss it. A man, out in broad daylight standing in the middle of the road. No costume, no imposter government car. Just him, with his grown out brown hair, black protective gearing covering him head to toe, and aiming his weapon right at you.
A gasp filled your lungs, and before you could lift a finger, a disc shot from the launcher. But it didn't fly directly towards the windshield like every other weaponry sent at you before. The disc flew underneath his SUV, and you could hear it latch onto the bottom.
Maybe a nano second later, the device detonated, and you didn't process any of what happened next.
The sheer amount of explosive pressure sent the back of the SUV into the air, and it flipped you two over with a harsh crash, landing with the top of the vehicle down to the street. The teched out car that had done such a good job of keeping the two of you alive, now slid uncontrollably down the asphalt at deadly speed, making a horrible scraping noise as it went.
The dark figure calmly side stepped the two ton car hurtling towards him, and watched as it slid to a grinding stop, meters ahead.
Civilians gawked, and recorded, and fled about as the bullet ridden car lay upside down on the ground, a cloud of black foreboding smoke leaving a trail through the street.
The black clad figure began to walk towards the scene with an unbothered, unparalleled swagger.
Slowly, you blinked once, then twice. Blur filled your vision, and you could feel your body had already gone into shock. You were so stiff that you couldn't even tell if you were breathing until you let in a forced inhale. Your hair hung towards the ground, bits of glass falling in the same direction.
Your seatbelt was keeping you hanging from your seat, but Nick was laying on the ceiling below you, trying to recover himself.
With careful and cautious movement, you went to dislodge your seatbelt, but discovered your arm was pinned against the car door. You could barely move.
Your neck twisted slightly to look around, and your eye caught movement out of the driver window. Black boots were strutting calmly towards you, taunting to your demise.
"He's coming." You only managed a whisper.
Nick finally looked up at you, having not heard. "You okay?!"
Blood was rushing to your head. Your senses were overwhelmed with the smell of smoke and bleeding. You could feel dull pain in the side of your head, and your body forced another sharp intake to your lungs. You knew there was no time to get free as the combat boots neared menacingly.
"He's coming!" It come out louder; choked, more afraid. You frantically tried to brace yourself with your free hand on the ceiling and get free; at least regain some sense of control.
Nick looked over to where your panic stricken eyes had settled, and saw the calm gait already halfway to his car. A second later he pulled a device out of his jacket, then turned back to you. "I need you to hold still."
Outside of the car, the deadly assassin finally reached his destination. He grabbed the car door, and with an easy yank, throws it across the street to the sidewalk. He knelt down to look in, and discovered an empty car, and a burning hole left in the ground.
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