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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ sᴇᴠᴇɴ: ɢᴏ ɢᴏ ɢᴏ

❝ ʀᴏɢᴜᴇ ǫᴜɪɴᴊᴇᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴇᴅ ɴᴏʀᴛʜ. ❞

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                          HIJACKING A QUINJET WAS NO EASY TASK. There were many risks involved, but despite it all, it proved to be less challenging than you'd previously expected.

Sneaking into the control chamber was simple enough, since you were still in possession of Agent Corvey's ID card. It enabled you to gain access to the room without any issue, and the universe seemed to be cutting you some slack for once, allowing the chamber to be entirely void of all S.H.I.E.L.D agents. When it registered in your brain that the room was empty, you cheered silently; you had been more than prepared to take out another group of agents, but you were thankful that it proved unnecessary for you to do so.

Once you were inside, you pulled the hood of your black hoodie even snugger around your face, taking the time to readjust your gloves as well. When you had seated yourself behind a desk with a large screen housing it, the trickiest part of the hijacking begun. In order for a quinjet to make it into the air, a launch sequence was needed. You'd only had the experience of riding in one a handful of times, and your knowledge on them was limited. Your teeth hacked at your bottom lip in a nervous frenzy as your fingers skimmed over the keyboard, unsure of which keys to press.

You were aware that you were acting within a limited time frame, and this awareness drove your urgency even higher. You needed to get out of this place and you needed to get out now.

Shutting your eyes tightly, you willed your mind to think back to the last time you had been on one of the jets. Brendon had been piloting, and you were riding shotgun. You squeezed them shut even more stringently as you tried to recall the pattern of his fingers over the control panel. A few numbers and letters flashed in your memory, prompting you to eagerly type them in on the board in front of you.

The system gave a short, low beep in response as the word 'DENIED' flashed across the screen in red block letters. Cursing under your breath, you hastily entered the digits in a different sequence, nervously casting a glance over your shoulder in case the alarm had alerted any personnel. The machine's second response was identical to its first one, and it was only after the fourth succession that your attempts proved successful.

With a large grin etched onto your face, you initiated the launch sequence, and soon enough, the engines of the foremost quinjet on the upstairs tarmac started up with a low whirr, elevating the vehicle above the launch pad before you pressed a few keys and sent it soaring off into the haze of blue ahead.

You stayed in the room just long enough to catch a glimpse at the monitor and make sure that the quinjet had actually started out on its journey away from HQ and once you were satisfied, you hurried out of the chamber, ensuring that you left Corvey's key card in plain sight.

As you rushed through the side hallways parallel to HQ's main one, you felt a pang of guilt over setting the pitiable agent up as your scapegoat. He wasn't your first choice as an unsuspecting victim but unfortunately for him, he trusted much too much, and it was almost too easy for you to use him.

The muffled sounds of agents running around and barking orders at one another ricocheted off of the walls in the empty hallway, prompting you to pick up your pace. Every single person on location was probably aware of the rogue quinjet by now, and you knew that along with that knowledge came the order for you to be located and detained immediately.

Your safety was the highest priority, after all.

The trail you were following led you past the area where The Asset was being held captive, and you slowed down substantially in case there were agents nearby. You treaded lightly as you snuck past the outside room that separated the prison area from the rest of the building, risking a glance inside. To your surprise, there was no one inside.

You furrowed your eyes at the fact and – going against your better judgement – you stepped halfway over the threshold. There was no one in sight, except for the prisoner on the other side of the glass, of course. He must've sensed your presence, since his head snapped up. His gaze settled on you and you fixed yours on him. Even from this distance – a good one hundred feet away from one another – the intensity of his eye contact caused goosebumps to erupt on your skin, and you frowned.

Yet, you didn't look away.

From the way he was staring at you, you knew that he was aware that the entire commotion happening was definitely not a result of someone attempting an attack, and was instead due to your work. As if to convey his approval, he gave a small nod and followed it up with a sly smirk. No words were spoken, but you could hear his voice congratulating you – Well done, (Y/N). You've finally seen the light.

You felt sick all of a sudden; a wave of nausea coursed through you and you tore your gaze away from the assassin, not giving him a second thought as you proceeded to scramble down the hallway. You shook your head to get your mind back on track to what your next move was supposed to be.

Your master plan was almost entirely amateurish and destined to fail, but you continued on in the hope that the simplicity of it would guarantee its success. You needed to get out.

That being said, you took the entrance through the back stairwell down to the parking garage. There were a trio of agents gathered not too far from you and you backpedalled, choosing to use the wall as a place to hide behind until they disappeared. You didn't have to wait long; the three of them shared curt nods of understanding and made their way to SUVs not too long after.

Once you were certain that they were far enough that they wouldn't spot you, you rushed through the door and into the bathroom you had used to change outfits on your birthday. Stepping inside, you took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror; you couldn't suppress the laugh that followed.

The last time this happened, you had been wearing a lovely little black dress, mentally preparing yourself for a wonderful night. Now, you were clad in a black hoodie and black gloves, about to sacrifice your security for...

For what?

Vulnerability? Loneliness? Potential death?

All of the above?

Inhaling deeply, you leaned forward and gripped the edge of the countertop tightly. This was it – your last chance to give up on your silly scheme and walk back into the safety and protection you had become accustomed to.

But was being protected in exchange for being made unaware of everything really a fair trade?

"I think the fuck not," you grumbled to yourself in the mirror. You took this opportunity to look at your reflection. This was the last time you would be seeing this version of yourself – the one who trusted so easily. The one who allowed everyone to run her life. The weak one. When you walk out of this bathroom, you would leave her behind.

And you would find yourself as you were meant to be.

You opened the tap and splashed some water on your face to freshen up a bit before drying off and grabbing the duffel bag you had stashed away earlier. It contained a few changes of clothing, a S.H.I.E.L.D credit card and your phone and charger. You sifted through the bag until you found the latter objects, holding the power button and shutting your cell off. You were certain that S.H.I.E.L.D had uploaded some secret GPS tracking system onto it.

Re-entering the parking garage, you did a quick survey of the area to make sure that there weren't any physical eyes on you before rushing over to the admin hut across the way, paying careful attention to shelter your face. There were cameras flanking the entire building, and while you had been able to successfully take-over a quinjet, hijacking surveillance cameras were a bit beyond your capabilities.

You entered the hut and grab the keys to one of the SUVs of which you were now sitting in the driving seat. You turned the built-in communication system on before settling into your seat, pushing the key into the ignition and starting the engine. Black-gloved hands gripped the steering wheel as you waited with attentive ears for the order you were certain would come. Sure enough, not even a minute later, Coulson's voice sounded over the comm system.

"Rogue quinjet headed north. Intended destination and occupants unknown. Assumed hostile. All obtainable agents to be in the air or on road and in pursuit immediately."

There it was. You waited until you caught a few agents filtering into the garage in your peripheral vision, and it was only then that you pulled out of the bay and sped up the ramp, into the dark of the night and most importantly: away from S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters.

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Thank you for reading x

Note: Don't forget to comment which chapters you want to see from Brendon's POV in the chapter titled
'A/N - Vote Here: Brendon's POV'