Smoke hung thick in the air. Fury was trapped inside the overturned car, pinned down and unable to move.
The crumpled front end squeezed what little room he had left to survive. No matter how desperately Fury struggled, it was no use.
His face, twisted with pain, was reflected in the shattered window.
"Damn it."
Fury cursed under his breath. The pain in his ribs and the dizziness from the impact left him capable of nothing but ragged gasps.
As his vision gradually cleared, he saw the man in black who had attacked him striding through the smoke and dust toward him.
The man in black reached the car, planted his left hand on the door, and pulled hard.
With a bang, the bulletproof door flew off, torn away with shocking ease by the man's brute strength.
The car's sudden shudder caught Fury off guard, slamming his head against the window.
The violent impact left his ears ringing. He shook his head hard, then looked up again.
Nick Fury's heart began to pound.
A dark gun muzzle was already aimed at his forehead.
His pupils contracted in alarm, but his wealth of experience forced him to stay composed. He had faced life-or-death crises like this many times before. The worse the situation, the more crucial it was to remain absolutely calm.
Various ways to survive flashed through his mind.
The man in black's deep, dark eyes were as still as a shadowed pool, as though taking the life of the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. would not stir even the slightest emotion in him.
Those were the eyes of a professional killer.
A killer this professional left Fury very little room to maneuver, but he was not entirely out of options. Just a moment ago, his hand had found a metal device