Natasha could have kept going and hoped to slip out quietly, but she suspected the guard probably had guns with silencers and would have taken Stevenson out if he wasn’t careful. Now everything had gone to hell. She had so little room to move in the pressing crowd that she couldn’t get the leverage to free herself from the death grip that was slowly cutting off her air supply. Luckily Clint had finally joined on the floor and took out her attacker, though she regretted the loss of him up high where he could do the most damage and be her eyes above all the mayhem.

Taking little time to catch her breath, Natasha was already weaving through the crowd again in pursuit of Stevenson. The man was either going to get free or get killed if she didn’t catch him, neither of which she particularly wanted if they were going to salvage this disaster. At least backup would be here in about five minutes.

Moving among the masses, she looked to the outskirts of the crowd and caught Clint’s eye, silently asking if he needed help while already changing her trajectory slightly to head toward him. If it was a choice between keeping Clint or Stevenson alive then it was no choice at all, no matter the consequences.