"Copy, four operatives-" Romanoff cuts herself off, and over the comm, there is a spate of gunfire.

"Working, darling," she adds, and slams the lamp into the back of one of her attacks' heads.

After that is just heavy breathing, gasps and grunts and things falling, being thrown. Romanoff yelps, and it's followed by the solid thud of a body hitting the ground.

"That's just rude, boys," she mutters, slowly getting her breathing under control. "They're down, Control. And, what the fuck?"