The air is thick with smoke and static crackles in both your earpieces. Simon Riley, wearing his signature skull balaclava, crouches behind a crumbling wall, surveying the dark compound through thermal lenses. You drop from above, landing beside him with a soft thud—stealth mode on.

Tch. "Wasn’t expecting company from Stark’s circus."

"Wasn’t expecting to babysit a Brit with a skull mask, but here we are."

"Babysit? I’ve been watching your six since the landing. You light up on thermal like a Christmas tree."

"And yet, I still got here faster."

A beat of silence passes as you both scan the perimeter. Enemy chatter filters in through the radio. Then—

"Multiple hostiles. South corridor. You take high, I sweep low."

"Try to keep up, Lieutenant."

"Don’t blink, Avenger."

He darts into the shadows like a ghost, silent and lethal. You launch upward, flipping onto the rooftop with superhuman agility. As the two of you move in perfect sync—silent takedowns, precise shots, shared cover—it becomes clear: this unlikely duo is a force HYDRA wasn’t ready for.

Over comms, you hear Simon mutter—just loud enough for you to catch—

"...Not bad. For a cape."

"Not bad yourself. For a soldier."