From the camera in the lift, I could hear the Guardians clamouring confusedly. Shots pounded into the metal floor, showing up as only flashes of heat on the camera before the electric hiss of the taser grenade pierced the air.

“Go!” Aquila urged into the comms.

Our fighters burst into action.

Team Two and Three threw the staircase open and raced into the smoky corridor, snapping shields into place and ducking behind them. I watched, my heart hammering in time with the bullets flying, as they popped up from the shields and skilfully began taking down Guardians. It was nearly impossible to see through the thick white smoke that was still billowing along the corridor but the heat and motion sensors built into our fighters’ helmets made up for that.

With a small smile, I managed to tear my eyes away from them and scanned the other screens. The team of three from Team Two who’d set the bombs in the elevators were racing up the stairs now, heavy panting sounding over the speakers.

Team One seemed to have everything under control in the Information Centre. They’d fanned out so that each fighter was standing in front of a terminal and appeared to all be typing intensely.

The rest of Team One panicked me though. They were still in the main elevator. They seemed anxious. Whoever had the camera in their helmet kept moving between the screen checking what floor they were on, the other fighters and then blinking their cameras over to heat sensors and scanning the floors through the elevators. It was normal to feel anxious going into a fight but there was a limit. If you’re too anxious then it paralyses you and stops you from being able to make good decisions.

“What’s going on here, Captain? Why are we moving so slowly?” they asked, their voice tight with worry.

Aquila spoke to the others before looking back up at the screen.

“We’re not sure. It seems like someone else is fighting with us and trying to stop you from getting up there,” she said finally.

“I thought we were told they could only control things in the building from the Information Centre?” Fornax said, her eyes narrowed on her screen.

“We were. That apparently was not true.”

“Ah, that explains why this place was so empty. You’d think if this is the only way to control the building then there would have been Guardians in here!” the Guardian in the Information Centre called cheerfully over the clatter of gunshots from Team Two and Three’s stream.

Aquila didn’t answer, instead she glanced at the other teams.

“How’s it going, Cent?”

The fighter on the screen grunted and ducked back behind the shields before speaking.

“Good. We’ve downed a bunch of those buggers. Oh shit, grenade!” they shouted as a ball of metal soared towards them, clunking loudly off the wall and landing just behind the fighters’ shields.

One of the fighters leapt forwards, tugging a metal hexagon object out from their belt and throwing it down on top of the gently beeping grenade. The hexagon unfurled, creating interlocking surfaces that encased the grenade completely before beginning to sink into the floor.

The light on the top blinked red twice before a small flash of brightness came from underneath followed by a thin trail of smoke that spiralled up towards the ceiling.

“Fornax, did you see that! It worked great!” came the hushed yet victorious cry from the fighter that had thrown the hexagon down.

“You invented that?” I asked, finally managing to turn away from the fight and staring at Fornax in awe.

She nodded, not letting her eyes leave the screen but the corner of her mouth twitched upwards as if she wanted to smile.

“Awesome,” I hear Gem whisper.

“Keep taking them down, Teams,” Aquila commanded.

She sounded happier than before, I noted. It did seem like things were going well for us. All of our fighters were still standing and, through the smoke, I could see a lot of Guardians sprawled on the ground unmoving. The gunshots coming from the Guardians were less frequent now too. Before it had been a constant wall of noise drowning out everything else but now the shots were staccato. They still came, obviously, but they sounded more manageable.

We might be able to win this.

Hope wiggled uncomfortably in my chest. I wanted to believe. I wanted to cling on to that feeling and let myself trust that by the end of the day we’d have Peggy back but I couldn’t. I knew the pain that would come if I allowed myself to hope and then we failed would ruin me.

I couldn’t do that. I had to be strong for my crew. I was their Captain, I needed to act like it.

“Coming up to the target floor now,” the small lead team in the main elevators said, stealing my focus.

I felt my breath start to quicken as they slowly approached the floor we’d been held on. The floor Peggy was most likely being held on.

How’s everyone feeling about seeing this again? I asked my crew.

I wasn’t feeling good. My wrists stung with the cold phantom pinch of handcuffs and my hands came up to rub my upper arms, trying to convince myself that the tight grip I was feeling wasn’t actually the Guardians but was just my mind messing with me.

Not great, to be honest, Cas’ reply was sharp and his eyebrows were pinched.

I could see that he was struggling. I just wanted to go to him and… I don’t even know, hug him? That didn’t feel like enough. Promise him everything would be okay? That would be a lie.

I don’t know. I just wanted to help.

Yeah, I didn’t think seeing the headquarters would be so… traumatic, Cory thought quietly.

I met Gem’s eyes before glancing at Cory.

I knew what we were all thinking and avoiding saying. If it was that hard for us to see on stream, it must have been horrible for Peggy to actually be there.

This is tough but the mission is going well. We’ll get her back, I thought, trying to force conviction into my voice even though I wasn’t sure.

We will, Gem thought as she watched Cory, concern written on her face.

The fighters in the elevators tucked into the sides, pressing themselves against the walls so that they’d have some protection once the doors opened. One dropped a camera into the back of the lift, pointing at the doors so that we’d be able to see everything.

I saw one of them pull a grenade from their belt and clench it in their hands, ready to throw.

The lift came to a halt sending an ear-splittingly high pitched squeal through the comms. I winced, resisting the urge to cover my ears and stared at the screen. The doors opened, revealing that familiar corridor that often haunted my dreams.

But in my dreams, it generally wasn’t filled with Guardians.