Falcon was quite sure, by this point, that their time was incredibly limited, if only because the elevator wasn't going to last much longer with Blood stomping around in it. Those were definitely cables snapping. This was about to go from bad to worse--for a split second, he wondered if he'd managed to make his clone too angry.

It was up to him now to keep his cool, even as Blood was literally threatening to tear his arm out of his socket. He cursed himself for being sloppy, trying to formulate a new plan through the pain that threatened to make everything completely incoherent.

In lieu of responding (Falcon was not, he'd argue, made to die, but that would have to be verbalized later), he raised his foot and stomped right on Blood's instep, following it up with a sharp jab with his elbow--hopefully right to the face.