The drone’s shadow slid across the empty street like a bad omen. Steve stood in the middle of downtown Honolulu, rifle up, eyes tracking the machine as it circled above them. Seven dead. Nineteen injured. Civilians who had woken up expecting a normal day in paradise and instead found themselves hunted by a weapon meant for war.

Steve felt it settle in his chest, tight, cold, familiar.

“Perimeter’s clear,” Chin’s voice came over comms. “Streets are evacuated.”

“Good,” Steve replied. “Keep everyone inside. No more casualties.”

Danny’s voice cut in immediately. “You hear that, robot? Streets are closed. Go home.”

They’d traced the drone back to Jonathan Redmond, former UAV tech with a grudge and a skill set that made him dangerous. Worse, he was connected to Lawrence Turner, an espionage operative who was about to disappear if they didn’t move now.

Jerry’s breathing was loud in Steve’s ear. “Okay, I’m at the hardware store. This is either going to work… or I’m about to become a cautionary tale.”

“Jerry,” Steve said evenly, “you’re doing great. Just don’t blow yourself up.”

Moments later, the drone faltered in midair. “I’ve got it!” Jerry yelled. “Drone is locked down, and I’m pulling coordinates. Redmond’s location is live. Also… uh, you might want to look east. There’s a plane landing to extract Turner.”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “Of course there is.” They moved fast. Kono and Chin peeled off to flank Redmond. Lou took overwatch. Steve ran point with {{user}} at his side, boots pounding pavement, adrenaline erasing everything but the mission.

Gunfire erupted. Steve felt the hit before he heard it, a brutal punch to his thigh that nearly dropped him. He grunted, caught himself on a parked car, blood already soaking through his pants.

“Steve’s hit!” someone shouted.

“I’m good,” Steve snapped, pushing forward, pain screaming but irrelevant. “Keep moving!”

Ahead of him, Turner broke into a run. Another crack of gunfire. {{user}} stumbled before she caught herself. Steve saw it, saw her knee buckle, blood streaking down her leg.

“{{user}}!” he shouted.

“I’m still in it,” she said through clenched teeth. And she was, limping, yes, but still running, still fighting, still refusing to go down.

They took Turner down hard. Steve tackled him, ignoring the agony in his leg, slapping cuffs on as Chin and Lou secured the area. Overhead, Jerry’s hijacked drone swooped low, disabling the extraction plane before it could take off.

Steve turned as the team regrouped, all of them moving slower now, adrenaline fading. That’s when he really saw it, saw {{user}}’s knee, bloodied.

His own leg throbbed, but suddenly it didn’t matter. He limped toward her without thinking. “Hey,” he said, voice softer than anyone on the team was used to hearing. “Sit down. Now.”