"Agent Romanov."
The red haired woman turned to her boss, a bead of sweat dropping from her brow. Six SHIELD agents lay groaning on the ground as she walked to the eyepatch wearing man, taking the file from his hands. She opened it to see a few names and pictures, one being of her next to four separate pictures of teenagers.
"Who are these people?" She asked.
"These are your potential replacements."
"Replacements?" Anthony Stark asked. "Sorry, but Iron Man isn't going to play second fiddle to children."
"You're not going to be second fiddle, Stark. You're going to train them. After all of it, you're going to choose one, and the rest are
