Jessica couldn't make that promise. Not to the young woman in her arms. She was losing her, with each passing second her heart grew weaker, its rhythm barely able to reach a flutter against her chest. It could no longer compete with the helpless cries and screams already residing in her mind and she had known, before the last tear fell on the girl's dirtied cheek, before her last, whimpering breath, before her body fell limp against her own that she'd already lost her.
The woman in red stood, cradling the lifeless victim, and cut through the thick sheet of smoke and debris blanketing them. Behind her mask was solemness. She couldn't allow herself to feel anything, to feel guilty about her failure. Detachment worked for her, kept her from cracking. Whether that was also a mark of a true hero or not, Spider-Woman wasn't sure.
She took her to the nearest helicopters to be identified and hurried back to search for more survivors. In her line of vision she saw the Invisible Woman. Weaving through stone and broken structure, she approached the woman. "That area's been cleared," she reported, pointing to the newly marked off section to the side of them. "We've still got a lot of the region to cover and--" at this she paused and let a small sigh pass her lips, "I've just been told that the President is still yet to be found."