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Natasha was silent as she didn't know how to reply. During the Budapest incident, she had felt guilty for killing this young girl, named Antonia. Liam looked at Dreykov with those eyes that seemed ready to spit fire. He felt helpless too, as his abilities didn't allow him to stop time.

It might slow it, but stopping time wasn't in his handy book, and sadly, that was what Liam needed the most now. The silence and the deadlock were soon broken when Tony and Rogers arrived.

"Natasha, what's taking you so..." Rogers stopped mid-speech as he took in the current scenario, and so did Tony, who was hovering mid-air with a ball of fire in his hand, ready to launch at Dreykov at any moment. Both of them were beyond furious as they got a glimpse of the girl.

"Dreykov, be a pal and let the kid go. You hurt her, and I swear, I'll drag you down to hell myself just to make sure you stay there." Tony declared.

"Well, well. The infamous Iron Mage. Imagine my surprise when I saw you charging in. I thought your heroics were limited to terrorizing some warlords in the Middle East. What brings you here?" Dreykov laughed.

"What can I say? I like to expand my portfolio. Thought I'd add 'taking down washed-up Soviet psychopaths' to the list," Tony replied.

"You're far beyond your jurisdiction, Stark. The Russian Federation has already dispatched their jets. They'll wipe this place off the map—with you in it." Dreykov laughed.

"Yeah, see, that's the part that doesn't add up. I mean, sure, they might not like me, but you? Pretty sure they hate you more," Tony said.

"The old guard in St. Petersburg never did like me. I wouldn't put it past them to seize this opportunity—kill two birds with one missile strike. But, of course, if you let us go, well… we walk away just fine." Dreykov negotiated.

"We don't negotiate with people like you, Dreykov. Surrender," Rogers interjected.

"Ah, Captain America. You know, we had our own version of you once. A shame he's rotting in a cell," Dreykov said.

"He will be freed from prison," Liam said.

"I recognize almost everyone here. Even that archer raising hell in the wilds. After all, he's the reason I'm in this mess to begin with. But you…You're different. Who—no, what—are you?" Dreykov questioned Liam.

In response, Liam brought out his bow and pointed a Bifrost arrow at Dreykov. As usual, Liam had been wearing a mask, taking no chances whatsoever.

Thus, Dreykov didn't recognize Liam at all.

"You'll find out soon enough. Now let the girl go. You harm her, and I promise—hell will seem like a vacation compared to what I'll do to you," Liam said.

"I don't doubt your words. I have seen what you can do. All the more reason to have my daughter close to me. Now, if you don't mind, we are leaving."

As Dreykov backed away toward the exit, keeping Antonia close with the knife still trembling at her throat, Liam clenched his fists. Rogers took a slow step forward, but Dreykov tightened his grip on his daughter, his smirk widening.

"Don't," Dreykov warned. "Move, and she dies. Your sentimentality, your weakness—it'll be your downfall."

With that, he maneuvered Antonia out of the room, stepping through the shattered doorway and into the dimly lit hallway. The others remained still as Dreykov's guards covered their exit. Everyone was restraining their fury.

"I really hate this guy," Tony muttered.

Outside, Dreykov led Antonia through a network of corridors before emerging onto a massive open-air launch pad. A sleek black helicopter awaited them, its blades already spinning, because Dreykov had the automated function on it.

Antonia's breaths were shaky, but she didn't resist. The blade still pressed against her throat, and her other hand remained clenched at her side. Dreykov guided her up the ramp, turning briefly to glance at the distant complex.

"Far enough," he muttered, satisfied that no one was following—yet. He wasn't sure if his strategy would work, as he had felt only Natasha would be affected, but his plan did work. When Dreykov saw Liam, he knew for sure that his weapons and technology wouldn't be able to stop this guy, so he needed to manipulate.

As soon as Antonia stepped inside the helicopter, it happened. A sharp twang echoed. A single arrow struck in an instant—embedding itself into Antonia's wrist, pinning her hand to the seat, and wrenching the knife from her grip. She screamed, the sudden pain forcing her body to lurch forward. What followed next was the sound of the windshield breaking. Yes, the arrow was so fast that even the sound of the windshield breaking came a bit later for distant people to hear, implying the arrow was faster than the sound.

The magical arrow was beyond what a human could ever comprehend. Dreykov spun in shock. Far away, perched on the rooftop of an old communications tower at least half a kilometer away, stood Clint Barton. He lowered his bow slightly, watching through his scope.

"Gotcha," Barton murmured.

Inside the helicopter, Antonia gasped, her free hand clutching at her wrist as blood dripped onto the seat. Dreykov's face twisted in rage. Dreykov went to hold his daughter, but before he could do so, he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.

What followed next was him being flung away from the open door of the helicopter and falling onto the launch pad. He saw a spear being shoved into his shoulder before he felt immense pain coursing through his slightly aged body. He screamed in pain and writhed.

He wanted to remove the spear that had lodged in his shoulder, but it refused to budge. In the next moment, he saw Liam standing in front of him with the same spear in his hand.

The copy effect of the Spear of Draupnir was in full force.