One moment Hawkeye was peering down onto the factory floor with her; the next, there was an almighty clang very close by. She ducked on pure instinct, rolling upright with stilleto in hand – and froze.
Dieter and Hawkeye faced each other, huge swords drawn, slowly circling.
“My dear younger brother, once again you find yourself out of your depth.” Dieter was smiling pleasantly. Hawkeye watched him like his raptorial namesake.
“Only this time – and I really cannot express the irony of the situation – you have brought me an audience! Incredible. And who could possibly be more fitting but the meddling, petty little -”
In that moment, Hawkeye and Elletra moved at once. She threw the stiletto, a spinning sideways slice at the ribs. Hawkeye thrust to draw Dieter’s sword out of line.
There was a blur of motion punctuated by several, lightning-fast exchanges between the two swordsmen. Her knife proceeded through the middle of it, was struck mid-flight by the flat of a blade, and met the opposite wall harmlessly.