Chapter Forty-Four

We tracked Cybertek to a mansion and, wouldn't you know it, Ian Quinn himself. Fitz started the tracker to tell the rest of the team where to find us, but I wasn't about to wait. If I waited, Ian Quinn might be able to get away from us again.

"I'm going in," I announced.

"My thoughts exactly," agreed Skye.

"No. No way. I'll be more effective on my own, since I won't have to worry about watching your back, too."

"You go in with Ward all the time! Why is this different? Is it the training thing again?"

"No. Well, I mean, you do have less training than us, but that's just something you'll have to deal with for now. You'll get past it, and you'll catch up. But Grant and I have been working together for years, so we know each other well enough that it's effortless to work together. You and I just haven't gotten to that point yet, and we might end up in each other's way. Seriously, it's nothing personal."

"I don't want to sit here and do nothing while you go in there and risk your life," she argued.

"Yeah, neither do I," agreed Fitz.

"You won't. If I fail, you still can't let them get away. It's up to you, Fitz, to disable their cars, and it's up to you, Skye, to watch Fitz's back and be our last line of defense. If I'm in the house, I can't do anything out here, which means it's all on you. You're the only backup since we don't know when or if the team is coming."

"Alright, fine," Skye caved, still not looking entirely happy.

"Be careful," warned Fitz.

"Back at you."

I left Fitz and Skye to do their thing snuck around the back of the house, only running into one guard that I was able to take down without using ammunition.

The house was like a maze. There were walls that kept me from seeing more than a few feet in front of me, and it seemed like they went on forever. Finally, I heard voices in the hallway ahead of me.

"Find Mr. Quinn," ordered a woman in a heavily accented voice, "Tell him his purchase is downstairs."

They kept walking, which gave me the perfect opportunity to sneak downstairs before Mr. Quinn. I made my way downstairs and threw open the basement door, wanting the element of surprise if anyone else was in the room. Thankfully, they weren't.

I cleared the shadows of the room first, just in case I'd missed something, but found no one. The room was mostly full of boxes, but a tube in the back corner looked like it might warrant some further investigation.

I moved forward, keeping my gun out just in case something jumped at me. When I got to the glass, though, it was all I could do to keep the gun from falling out of my hand.

It was Mike Peterson.

The man I'd watched get blown up on the bridge, the man whose son I had to help break the news to, was here and alive. Horribly burned and unconscious, yes, but alive.

"Hello." Before I could try to help Mike, I heard Ian Quinn's voice behind me, and felt someone ripping my gun out of my hand. I spun around to find the enforcer from the train trying to level it at my head. Obviously, I wasn't about to let that happen.

I blocked his arm, which had been reaching for my neck, then grabbed the gun and started trying to wrestle it out of his hands. To my satisfaction, I noticed Quinn took a nervous step back as I managed to throw the gun across the room and promptly punched his enforcer in the face.

Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to enjoy the reaction since Mancini the Enforcer immediately returned my punch.

I dodged several swings before backing into Mike Peterson's pod. I was out of room to run. Mancini grinned (he thought he had me beat. Amateur.) before winding up and putting all his weight behind the next punch. I ducked and tackled him, knocking us both back into one of the tables.

Our fight raged on, and I was laser-focused on not letting Mancini land a hit. I ducked and dodged like a pro (which I guess I was), and we probably destroyed half the boxes in Quinn's basement by running into them.

I was trying to keep an eye on Quinn as I fought, but it was getting harder. Mancini was getting frustrated, which made him careless, but it also made him fight like a berserker. One solid punch from him could land me in some serious trouble, so I had to make sure he didn't connect. That was taking more focus than I would've liked.

I landed a strong punch straight to Mancini's jaw, but before I could follow up, I heard a scream from the direction of Mike's pod.

I looked over and found Mike standing with a bionic leg, pointing a real gun at me from across the room.

"Mike?" I asked, dropping my fists. What the hell was he doing?

Mancini came over and slammed me into the wall, then pushed me as hard as he could toward's Mike's now-empty pod. I barely managed to catch myself.

Quinn looked me up and down, then looked at Mike's new leg.

"Mancini, thank you," he said, turning to the enforcer who was still glaring at me, "You will be receiving your payment shortly."

Mancini gave me one more threatening glare before turning and heading back upstairs. If I was sure Mike wouldn't shoot me, I would've punched Quinn right then and there, but I had no idea what was going on with Mike.

"Samantha, isn't it? I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting yet."

I snorted. "Pleasure is one word for it."

"Hm. Although this is our first face to face meeting, I've been reading up on you. You have quite the impressive list of accomplishments."

"Wish I could say the same about you."

"You've gotten quite close with everyone on your team. And Coulson was the one to bring you to SHIELD, wasn't he?"

This time, I didn't answer. Everyone wanted revenge on Coulson, and I had a bad feeling I knew how Quinn was planning to do that.

"I know you get your orders from the Clairvoyant," continued Quinn, now talking to Mike. I got the impression he was monologuing more for my benefit. "So that means you're not allowed to hurt me, and you can't stop me if I try to hurt you. But what I'm curious about is what would happen if I ordered you to shoot her?"

Mike stared at me, the hand holding the gun shaking. I stared right back, not saying a word. I was pretty freaking sure Mike wasn't voluntarily working for the Clairvoyant, but I was still extremely angry about it.

I didn't want to stand still and let myself get shot, but if I charged Mike might shoot. If I didn't move, he had a better opportunity to refuse.

"Those aren't my orders. She's not who I'm supposed to kill," Mike said finally, dropping the gun and looking back at Quinn. I took my opportunity and rushed forward, but Quinn had taken the gun and pointed it at me again before I could get to him. I'd closed about half the distance, which made my job a lot easier if things came to a head.

Mike turned and walked out the door, and Quinn turned to watch him go. It was barely an opening, but it was also probably the only one I was going to get.

I surged forward and lunged for the gun, but Quinn was faster.

He shot me in the stomach.

I fell forward, straight onto Quinn. It hurt like hell. I'd been shot before, but this wasn't a glancing blow or a shot in the arm. This was a direct hit, and it felt like fire was burning through my body. I tried to push myself away from Quinn, to fight back, to do anything, but I couldn't. I felt him bury his gun in my gut again and take another shot, point blank.

I collapsed to the floor. Holy crap this hurt. Obvious, I know, but I couldn't form another coherent thought.

Quinn looked down at me, bleeding out on the floor of his basement.

"I'm sorry. I have my orders, too," he said, then turned and walked out the door.

I heard him start up the stairs, but it sounded like he stopped halfway up. I heard another two gunshots, then his footsteps continued and faded. Silence for a few seconds, and then I heard something else.

"Help..." A weak, strained voice came from the stairs. It sounded like Skye.

"Dammit," I muttered. She'd come in after me.

I had to get up. I had to move. Not just for me, but for Skye. I had someone else counting on me, which gave me the best motivation possible.

Unfortunately, the door was on the opposite side of the room from me. I could feel the blood seeping out of me, and I knew that I was going to be in serious trouble if I couldn't get it to stop.

Nonetheless, I started pulling myself across the floor. Every time I moved my wound burned, but I tried to ignore it. My vision started swimming, but I was not about to give up. I kept pushing, until my muscles literally gave out on me. I'd only made it about halfway across the room.

I was trying to get ready to make another push, when I heard more footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Ohh. No," I heard a voice that sounded like Coulson's say, probably after seeing Skye.

"Where's Samantha? Samantha!" This time it was Grant. I relaxed. Our team was here, they could take care of everything. I could hear Grant coming towards me, so I didn't bother responding to him.

"Samantha!" He rushed over and knelt next to me, looking over my gunshot wounds. I heard someone yell for Simmons, but I couldn't tell who. My head was really spinning now.

"Oh my God, Samantha, hang on," Grant continued, pulling me closer to him. I looked up at him, but he seemed blurry, like an out of focus photograph.

Memories started flooding my brain, from my first day at SHIELD Academy to collapsing in Siberia. The mountain goat came to mind, and our code words.

I remembered the last time I'd seen Grant, before now, on the train.

I punched him in the arm as hard as I could, which probably wasn't that hard at this point.

"That's for all the cracks you made on the train," I said weakly, giving him the best smile I could manage.

I thought Grant looked like he was about to break, but he tried to match my smile.

"That was one of the wimpiest punches I've ever felt. You better stay with me, because that can't be your SHIELD legacy," he whispered.

"Don't you worry," I slurred. I was trying to speak clearly, but it was getting harder and harder. "I'll be better in no time, and then I'll really punch you. I guess that would mean you probably should worry though, wouldn't it?"

"No. I deserve it. I deserve the hardest punch in the face you can deliver."

"Noooo you don't. You're great. You're Grant. I don't know what I would do without you."

"I don't know what I'd do without you either, so you better stay with me. Samantha. Samantha."

It sounded like he was drifting farther and farther away. My eyes closed, and the world disappeared.

Maybe I'm the one drifting farther away, I thought, before everything went dark.