Natasha wasn't sure she'd be able to convince herself to sleep until she made some headway toward freeing the Widows. Not that she'd be much good if she ground herself down to nothing. But getting them to freedom and safety was more important than her feeling well rested, or a few injuries. Thanks to the Red Room, there wasn't much she couldn't fight her way through. She waited impatiently at the foot of the fire escape, poised to move the second he hit the ground next to her. Her head was tipped back to watch the window of the apartment they'd been in.

"Lead the way," she said, without missing a beat. A motorcycle was good - it was easier to get lost in the flow of traffic on a bike. Or to leave it idling between cars to make a run for it. Instinct made her glance back over her shoulder as they hastened down the alleyway, just in time to catch the brief glitter of a scope through the window. "Get down," she instructed sharply as she grabbed his arm and yanked him around the corner just in time for the shot to shatter the bricks where their heads had been.

"Shit," she muttered, letting him go as she hastened their way around the corner to his bike. As she moved, she unholstered her guns and took the safety off. The pain from her injuries surged through her in waves. "Hope you don't mind me returning fire from behind you."