Mockingbird wanted the high ground: morally and literally.
The HUD in her goggles had a full wireframe schematic of the interior of the warehouse and although she didn’t have x-ray or anything she had enough info to generally track Castle’s movements. He was moving with cover, over by the table and she had to keep his attention focused on her or there was a non -zero chance he was going to execute those jerks.
Castle was an enemy right now, even if he had been a reluctant ally in the past—she couldn’t condone his methods…any more. She’d made a promise, to Clint, to Steve, to herself. She might sympathize with the stark simplicity of the trigger pull as a solution but it was as far from her as being named Princess of Asgard now.
She needed a plan and probably she should call the team. Or at least Black Widow. Nat and Castle had worked together in the past and they had very similar out looks on life but, well, Mockingbird didn’t want to put her in that position. All of them on the team, the spies and killers in the dark, were trying so hard to be more than their pasts.
First things first though. She needed to go up.
There were stairs to the suspended walkways at either end of the warehouse but she just didn’t have time to sprint for them, and anyway she wanted to draw Castle’s attention.
Muzzle flash. The bullet went wide, but at head height not screwing around are we Frank?
She used the sarcastic mutter in her head to bury the fact Punisher had literally just shot to kill her.
There was a crash — he must have knocked over some equipment in an attempted distraction.
She used the sound to mask her going straight up one of the metal pillar so thick with hooks and eye bolts it might as well have been a staircase.
The walkways were rusty and rickety and precarious. Mockingbird stood very still, finding her center, the balance point of the metal, testing the give and spring of the aged support struts.
When she moved along the walkway, she did it at a light fast pace. Metal can be placed on metal soundlessly, if done firmly enough. Her combat boots looked thick and heavy-looking but they were high tech resin and leather, molded her to feet by Tony Stark’s technology. She could do full parkour in them, so responsive and light were they.
Up here, in the air, she was a silent as any bird of prey.
In a few moments Mockingbird was off to one side of the open space with the lights, searching for Castle.
And there he was on the walkway with her.
She readied her weapons to fight..
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