Chapter One: Fire

Russia, The Younger Years of Romanoff

For the most of her childhood, Natasha had always encountered dealings within the Soviet Spy Unit. Her family were situated so close to its central headquarters, it was to be expected that they'd come to know about it at some point or another.

At first, the Romanoff family buried the knowledge of the Spy Camp under plain ignorance as they went about their everyday lives. Natasha was little more than an infant of almost seven at the time, completely oblivious to the secrecies within the society she lived in.

As time wore on, the Romanoffs became more aware of the Spy Unit little more than half a mile from their small, Russian manor house. They began to talk and ask questions. They spoke of it in casual conversation, to people whom shouldn't have known of the secret organisation. Of course, it was only by chance that the Romanoff family ever did come to learn about the camp. Why ever would a powerful encampment allow a generic family of three live so close to its principal base? It was in fact Natasha's uncle, Maxim, who had made it possible for the family to live there at all. Maxim, a highly respected Soviet Spy himself, had persuaded the director of the spy group to allow the Romanoffs the privilege of residing in the manor house - as it was closer to other family and the easiest option in terms of money. Maxim's request was approved but as long as he kept to his end of the bargain: The Romanoffs could only live there for a maximum two years and if they ever found out about the unit, Maxim would have to face the consequences.

However, once the rumours began to flow, they would not stop - Maxim was cautioned, his job was on the line. As things grew worse, he was forced to alert the Romanoffs of the truth and make sure all gossip ceased at once. The Romanoffs did not take the truth lightly, though. Accusing him of lies and treachery, they disowned him.

Eventually, it came to the point where Maxim was demoted to one of the lowest posts within the spy force; most titles and statuses he had gained throughout his many years as a spy were stripped from him – he was warned time and time over that would the talk of the unit grow louder, he would be forced to alter his identity and leave all remnants of his past life behind.

But the situation heightened at an alarming rate, to the point where the Romanoffs were writing threatening letters to the director of the Spy Camp. Mere weeks later, the Romanoffs received their first reply. Although it was not what they had expected:

"Mr and Mrs Romanoff,

Due to a number of circumstances concerning the security and secrecy of our encampment being severely compromised, we have had to take serious action. Your blood relative, Maxim Stanislov, had agreed to take responsibility for any mishaps caused either directly or indirectly by yourselves on the terms that we allowed you to take up residence within the manor house, which is situated on the outskirts of our unit.

At a cause of your ongoing threats and endless gossip regarding the encampment, we have decided to take the matter upon ourselves.

Please understand that we do not take kindly to people who take pleasure in causing havoc for our organisation and as a result, we had Maxim Stanislovs executed last night at 11 p.m.

An agent will be visiting you shortly with a payment that we hope will amend any ill feelings between our Unit and yourselves.

Thank you for your troubles.

Luka Marko, Director of The 117 Soviet Spy Unit."

The Romanoffs, incredibly shocked at the extensive precautions the Soviet Spy Unit had taken, sealed their gossiping mouths for the meantime. They were rewarded with a windfall of money, which kept them quiet and happy at the same time – not only that, but they were granted to stay at the manor house for as long as they pleased. The only price they had to pay was giving up their daughter to the unit with the intention of training her into what would be one of the world's greatest spies.

XXX

10 years later: Soviet Spy Unit 117, St Petersburg, Russia

"Natasha Romanoff," Luka Marko, Head of The Soviet Spy Organisation in St Petersburg, said – just as he did at the beginning of every other briefing Natasha had sat in on. Only on this occasion, he wasn't about to ask her to observe; this time, she would be the one carrying out the mission he was about to assign.

"Sir," Romanoff replied, eagerly waiting for her first genuine assignment, after having been training for so long to become the assassin she'd always dreamed she'd be.

Luka's office was a large and spacious room, with little decoration or furniture - excluding the chair he was occupying and the dark mahogany desk he was sitting at. Bright, artificial light shone down from within the ceiling panels, illuminating every nook and cranny located within the office.

"Are you prepared for your very first mission; your very first kill, Agent Romanoff?" Luka asked, a knowing smile crawling up his tanned cheeks; his green eyes not quite joining in, making his friendly act seem fake.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, "Ten years of training seems to think so."

Marko gave a quick, curt nod of the head before continuing, getting straight to the point. "Your targets are a middle-aged couple. Not too difficult for a first assignment. They've been trying to shut us down for years. We need you to stop them. And by 'stop', I mean silence them. Completely." Luka's voice mimicked that of a snake's; quiet and full of venom as he lingered on every S.

Natasha was deep in concentration, listening to each word Luka Marko had to say – drinking in every detail she could. She did not want to make a single mistake during her first operation.

"They'll be located in a small, deserted building a few hundred yards south of St Isaac's Cathedral – tonight, just before midnight. A selection of our Agents will have secured them within; you just have to finish them off. Understand?" Marko's cold, green eyes pierced into Natasha's, prompting for a response.

"Yes, Sir." She replied. "Are there any specific requirements for this particular assignment, Sir?"

Luka Marko paused for a second before speaking, "Only that you wear the appropriate attire...Oh, and fire."

Fire? What did he mean by that? Natasha voiced her question, "Fire, Sir?"

The director nodded, "Yes, Agent Romanoff, you are to burn the place clean to the ground - with the targets still inside." He put emphasis on the words, trying to make it as clear as possible. "Let nothing and no person stop you from succeeding in this mission. Are we clear?" The look Marko wore was stern, almost menacing and Natasha could virtually feel Marko's gaze cut through her like a poison-tainted knife. The director of Unit 117 certainly did not have a reputation in being nice to his working agents.

"Clear." Romanoff stated, before leaving the office and retreating to her allocated private room within the Spy Unit, digesting every piece of information she had been given.

She imagined the fiery orange of the flames that would teasingly lap at her targets' skin – burning and singeing them both until they were burnt to a crisp. She smiled sinisterly at the thought.

XXX