The approaching vehicles weren't just SUVs — they were rolling death machines. Heavy artillery turrets mounted on the roofs, side-mounted Gatling guns, and soldiers leaning out with RPG launchers.
Under normal circumstances, with her current strength, Natasha could have used hit-and-run tactics, closed the distance, and dismantled them one by one.
But she wasn't alone.
She had to protect Fury.
Pinned down against the wrecked SUV, she was quickly running out of room to maneuver.
"Fury!" Natasha shouted over the rising roar of engines. "If you don't get that hole open, we're both going to die here!"
Inside the wreckage, Fury's voice was tight. "Almost there! Been sitting behind a desk too long — out of practice."
In the original timeline, after being blasted over by the Winter Soldier, Fury had the fortune of landing directly above a sewer access point. A quick cut with his laser, and he'd dropped out of sight before Hydra could finish him.
But thanks to Lock's interference — the butterfly effect was everywhere — the parking lot layout was different.
The sewer entrance was deeper now, the concrete slab thicker. Fury had been cutting for far longer than expected, and if Natasha hadn't intervened, the Winter Soldier's strike would have ended him before he ever broke through.
Finally, the laser completed its circle. The slab beneath Fury gave way, and with a grunt, he dropped down into the darkness below.
Natasha emptied the rifle's remaining magazine at the Winter Soldier, forcing him back, then vaulted into the SUV and dove headfirst after Fury into the sewer.
She had barely landed when three RPG rounds slammed into the vehicles above.
BOOOOM!
The blast flipped the SUV and Natasha's car into the air, sending them tumbling end over end. The fuel tanks ignited in a chain reaction, engulfing the parking lot in fire.
A heartbeat later, the ground shuddered as another explosion echoed — Natasha had detonated a charge to collapse the tunnel entrance behind them, cutting off pursuit.
Hydra would find nothing but rubble.
The decision to take the sewers wasn't just convenient — it was necessary.
New York's surface streets were crawling with surveillance cameras, almost all of which Hydra would have access to by now. If they tried to escape above ground, every move they made would be tracked.
It was rush hour. Streets were clogged, intersections jammed. An armored convoy would have them boxed in within minutes.
And Hydra wouldn't hesitate to open fire, civilian casualties be damned.
Natasha knew she couldn't allow that.
Down here, the sewers stretched for miles — a labyrinth Hydra couldn't easily penetrate. The ground shielded them from aerial drones and satellite scans. The enemy would have no choice but to give up or wait for them to surface somewhere.
Up above, the Winter Soldier stood on the edge of the collapsed roadway, staring silently at the smoke and fire.
Then, after a long pause, he turned and walked away — clearly called off by his handler.
In the tunnels below, Natasha flicked on a tactical flashlight.
Fury was leaning against the wall, soaked in blood. The sight made her pause.
No wonder he'd been cutting so slowly earlier — he'd been shot several times and was barely holding himself upright.
"Why didn't you drink the potion?" Natasha asked sharply.
Apocalypse had given small vials of green healing serum to Fury and several other key allies. She knew he kept one on him at all times.
"Still got bullets in me," Fury grunted. "Can't just seal them inside. Need to dig them out first."
Natasha frowned. "If you wait that long, you won't make it."
She didn't argue further. Instead, she pulled her own vial from her belt and pressed it into his hand.
Fury didn't hesitate. He popped the cap, downed the glowing liquid, and moments later the light spread across his body. The wounds sealed before Natasha's eyes, leaving nothing but the bloodstains on his clothes.
He straightened, testing his ribs, then exhaled in disbelief. "Feels like cheating. Guess I don't need surgery anymore."
Natasha holstered her weapon. "Where to now?"
"Not back to HQ," Fury said grimly. "Hydra's got eyes there — and probably at your safe house, too. Show our faces anywhere in public, we'll be facing more RPGs before we can blink."
He started moving deeper into the tunnels, Natasha at his side. "There's one man I can still trust. We'll go to him."
Minutes later, they climbed out through a maintenance hatch near Brooklyn Heights and crossed quietly to a modest apartment building.
This was where Steve Rogers lived.
Fury had personally arranged the apartment after Steve was thawed from the ice. He'd even stationed Agent Kate — an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. operative — in the building across the street to watch over him.
It was a classic Fury move: part surveillance, part protection.
After all, Captain America had made a lot of enemies seventy years ago, and Hydra's surviving cells would love to finish what Red Skull started.
Even a super-soldier could be vulnerable to a sniper rifle or a car bomb.
Fury picked the lock, and they slipped inside Steve's apartment.
Only then did they allow themselves a moment to breathe.
Natasha yanked open the fridge, grabbed a bottle of cold vodka, and poured two glasses. She downed hers in one go, then growled:
"My car's gone. Next time I see those bastards, I'm making them pay for it."
Fury gave her a side-eye. The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had just survived an assassination attempt, and she was most upset about a car?
Still, he kept his tone calm. "Relax. File for reimbursement."
"I can't. That was a gift from Lock."
Fury froze for half a second, then nodded slowly.
Of course. Blowing up a gift from Apocalypse himself was… not something Hydra would live to regret for long.
Natasha swirled the last of her drink. "Should we call Lock back? Or at least ask Heimdall to relay a message?"
Lock wasn't quite like Captain Marvel, who could be paged anywhere in the galaxy at a moment's notice — but he had left a way for certain trusted allies to contact him via Heimdall if things truly got desperate.
Fury shook his head. "No. This one's on us. Lock can't help us find traitors inside S.H.I.E.L.D. — and if he shows up without proof, he'll just be labeled a loose cannon."
Natasha exhaled through her nose. She wanted Lock here — wanted his overwhelming presence to simply crush Hydra's network overnight — but Fury was right.
They needed to find the traitors first.
Kill them second.
Otherwise, Lock's reputation as the man who saved the world would flip overnight, to the boogeyman Hydra would paint him as.
Fury said quietly," Lock already warned me. Gave me names: Rumlow, Sitwell, even Alexander Pierce. But I didn't expect them to act so soon — or so boldly. Rush hour, downtown… they wanted me dead where everyone could see it."
Natasha's jaw tightened. "Then we stop them first — before they try again."
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