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We'd Be The Cavalry

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"We know you're not working alone. Agent 'Smith' – and really, you couldn't come up with a better name than that?" The goon asking the question backhanded her across the jaw.
stick with the plan, kid. Smith's a cliché 'cos there are so many people have the damn name, just roll with it...
"Um..."
Dammit! Eliot swore, why did SHIELD insist on sending rookies out into the field like this? Yeah, so they had back up but seriously? The girl can't even talk herself out of something like this? Where was Romanoff when you needed her?
"M?" he breathed, knowing the comm. would pick up even the smallest whisper.
"Got it," came the reply. "You go low. I got the high ground."
He snorted, "You wish."
He rolled out from under cover, wrapped his arm around the first guard's neck and tightened until his struggles ceased. It would be so easy to go that extra thirty seconds, to just twist but...
"E, we're the good guys."
He grinned. She knew him all too well.
Dropping the unconscious man to the ground he ducked instinctively and aimed a throwing knife – hilt first of course, he was a good guy after all– into the centre of their agent's interrogator forehead.
The rookie looked up at him and almost smiled right up to the point Melinda dropped from the overhead catwalk, at which point Agent Smith almost swallowed her tongue.
"Uh... who are you guys?"
Eliot glanced over at May as he sliced the girl free of her bonds. "Well, Ma'am. We'd be the cavalry."