OUTSKIRTS OF BOGOTA, COLUMBIA

There was a women, and in her hands she held a human life.

Her heavy boots brushed loudly against the metal under her toes as she dragged his barely conscious body. His weight was like that of a feather, barely bothered by the chaos that went around her as she checked the time on her watch.

"Ma'am—"

The soldier that stepped next to her was interrupted as she dropped his body, forcing him to kneel in front of her. She didn't look his way, treating him like the disposable garbage he deserved to be. "I want a count of those injured, if they're critical I want them to be stabilized and on the first flight home. Tell O'Connell he needs to send me the best trainees to my office in 15 minutes so I can start to set them up for training. For every person we are sending back I want a trainee in my office, is that understood?"

"Yes ma'am," the soldier quickly wrote it all down. The scrap of his pen against the board he wrote on was last heard as he dashed away.

"Marks," her next call out was barely above her normal speaking voice but even so the soldier under her command stepped close to her. Eyes now on the person struggling to gain his breathing as he surely had a few broken ribs, his bloody hand gently touched the bruising area. "I want you to personally be there while he's processed and extradited. If he makes one wrong move you shoot him twice, once in the balls and the other in the head; make sure to wait five minutes between each shot. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am," he nodded and walked behind the kneeling captive.

"Perfect," she replied, giving her capture one last disgusted look before turning away. "I've got to start prepping for the next one."

The sense of relief that overtook her was not demonstrated but it was short lived within her own system as her feet stopped short of release.

"How long did it take?" The kneeling man, also known as Wilmer Francis, wanted murderer and arms smuggler, finally looked her way. "How long did it take for him to die Santa Muerte?"

The group surrounding them froze, shifting uncomfortably after a moment. She was never caught off guard like today, and her being nervous made them wary.

Her shoulders shifted, body turning back around as her face had gone from impassive to amusement. Their orders were not to kill him, but at this point she was willing to jeopardize her life to slice his throat.

The brunette squatted, about a foot away from the bastard as she ripped away the Velcro that held the black gloves to her hands. Her blood was boiling underneath, fingers itching to grab for the gun at her waist and empty the barrel into his face. Still, despite all her rage she merely kept silent and waited for him to continue on because this had been coming for over a year now.

"I tried to make it last long, hit him enough times to ensure he'd die but not before you got there. It took Cal a full ten minutes until he'd stopped, I hope your little boy lasted longer then mine... then again you shot a bullet through him so who knows."

There was no emotion when he spoke, no vulnerability just a simple exchange of vengeance. He was a cold man, hence the reason it took this long and cost so many lives to catch him but she could tell that even so it hurt him to lose a son, in this she took pleasure.

Her lips lifted into a smile, leaning closer as she was confident he no longer posed a threat to them. When they were only inches apart and the copper scent of the blood drying on his lips passed her nose she stilled. Her eyes widened for a fraction, "it took him 5 minutes to be fully gone, I made sure he didn't suffer as much as your son. I promised him as he went away that you would suffer a day for every minute you cost him before I blow your brains you out unfortunately my supervisors ordered against it. I do not care, you killed one of my soldiers, one of their friends." Her gaze turned back towards the squadron of trained killers acting as a wall behind them, each with their own glint of murder in their eyes demonstrating to him just how far into the lions den was. Her hand snapped up, unexpectedly catching his open neck, grasping with a firm grip. A choked cough escaped Wilmer's lips but the suffocation did not concern him or anyone near, it was the growing grey skin and black veins that transmitted from her palms to his skin. It spread rapidly, covering the length of his neck before she spoke again as his pulse began to slow. "He was only 19 years old boy, your son was a rabid dog I had no choice but to put him down you were just too stupid to recognize the difference. You took a part of this team away so trust me when I say they would not protest if I went against every order given to me and killed you right now."

"Morales! Let him go!" Kernel Green barked aloud, stepping closer. His eyes were narrowed, watching her as she didn't even flinch at his loud tone. Her eyes stayed glued to Francis who's own were going dim. "Miriam!"

She dropped him, and he physically slapped against the black pavement as all the grey that had overcome his skin snapped back inside her veins. "Like I said, they want you alive but I should warn you if you try and escape they've given me the go ahead to kill you. Get him processed, I want him on the first plane back to the states."

She turned away just as he was lifted and dragged away from the airplane tarmac. Green stepped forward, a look of slight dissatisfaction on his face but it was wiped away as he cleared his throat. "You've got an important call waiting for you. It's urgent."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she pulled a face. "I don't get calls. Who is it?"

"Phil Coulson from SHIELD."

|•|•|•|•|

"Phil, Fury better be dying or dead. You know I'm busy." Miriam didn't bother with a hello as she sat down in his recliner, taking the wireless landline to the small place she had converted into her apartment. Her eyes closed when she spoke, still attempting to understand just why this call was necessary. Usually people didn't call her, they came to visit considering that was the only way to fully get her attention.

"Fury needs you, it's important." Phil Coulson was direct.

"No."

"He said you'd say that, he then asked me to remind you that you owe him." The SHIELD agent wasn't at all pulling his punches— or rather Fury's—and yet still the brunette could not find an ounce of her interested.

Her lips clicked together in a very dissatisfied manner, "I'm here as a favor for him."

"Said you'd say that too, you've been there for 10 years." At this point Coulson sounded like he was reading off a script and if she listened close enough she swore she could hear him flipping pages on a pen pad.

A groan escaped her lips, an inaudible oh my god leaving next as she sucked up her pride and dreaded her next words. "What's going on?"

"Do you remember Captain America, Steve Rogers."

"Yes, how could I forget your idol Coulson." She mumbled back, "and before you ask yes I remember the Tesseract, Fury wouldn't shut up about it for a week."

"It's been taken." This gained her attention, she went from lazily staring at the ceiling to standing in less then a second. Her brain acted like a computer as it pulled open every memory of what she had heard spoken over the object. "We still don't have everything about what happened yet but the priority is to get it back with as little casualties as possible."

She swallowed thickly, pacing her quarters, "my team and I can be there before the suns up."

"That won't work, your teams not like you and besides they haven't been cleared nor trusted for this type of mission." Coulson neglected her response with a short reply.

"Then I'll do it myself, I can't promise the casualties part but I will say they won't be from us."

"There's a problem there. Barton and Selvig have been compromised."

"Now that's what I call a problem." The dullness in her tone did not compare to the disaster she could see unfolding in her mind. The Tesseract was going to bring nothing but mayhem to her life for the next few weeks and the inkling in her bones told her the death toll was gonna be a spectacle heard across the globe.

"Look I just need you to get back to New York. I'll explain everything else but for now Fury wants you to help me convince the big guy."

Miriam balanced the phone between her ear and shoulder as she stuffed handfuls of clothes into a large black duffel. "I thought Banner would be out of the question."

"Natasha is handling him, you've got to help me with the other one. Fury thinks you can reason with him." Coulson detailed.

"When I signed up for this job I thought not dealing with playboy billionaires was in the job description." She scoffed thinking of the one and only Tony Stark turned Iron Man. Even down south he was more legend then man and Miriam wanted to gag at just thinking of him. She'd never actually met Stark but considering all the destruction he'd caused in the last few years she wasn't very fond of his work.

"You'll find that he's a humbled man now... I think you'll change your mind."

|•|•|•|•|

Miriam is the walking definition of unbothered af. This is so short and slow but it's gonna get better I swear.