The strange readings were back once again. Fear was starting to spread. Slowly, but surely.
SHIELD had been obsessing over those data changes for two weeks, every available scientist working constantly to trace the strange energy. Each result was compared to every known substance to mankind: plutonium, uranium, nuclear radiations and so on. Frustratingly enough, nothing even close to those readings were found. Stranger still, the fluctuations in energy continued. Even Banner was called in to do some research against the strange readings.
The agents were starting to panic. Nothing this close had ever been found except for...
But it was impossible. It was in Asgard, far away from Earth.
After weeks of slowly trudging through endless data numbers, SHIELD was able locate the source of that energy in the city of Paris, France.
Natasha Romanov looked through her files and papers while drinking a cup of coffee, her perfectly manicured fingers tapping against the porcelain mug. She sat in a small cafe in Paris, acting as though she was a normal civilian instead of a trained assassin waiting for her next target to walk in. Her eyes glanced up at the doorway every few minutes, watching the French people walk by.
Her eyes scanned the neatly typed leaflets in front of her. Every paper was the same bullshit she had read through the night before, the papers smudged with her fingertips and the ink blurring from the countless times she had looked over it.
How many times had she read over her damn mission papers, trying to remember every detail and objective? Every action she took could be her last, every thought and breath that she breathed would mean the end of her life. One mistake would compromise the entire mission.
And the Black Widow wasn't foolish enough to be careless.
Fury had given her specific instructions before she had left the SHIELD base: Don't get yourself killed, and come back with the source of that fucking energy, Romanov. I'm counting on you.
She really wished that Fury would go on his own missions sometimes, instead of sending her out to do it. She had better things to do in her time than to sit around and watch scumbags mope around, planning their world domination or revenge. It wasn't as though any of them could actually DO it.
Natasha put her coffee down and closed the folder, tossing it disgustedly into her bag. She looked down at her cold croissant in distaste, not hungry in the slightest.
"What do you mean you lost it?"
Natasha's ears honed in on the voice almost immediately, her attention suddenly back and sharp as ever. She took another sip of her lukewarm coffee and stared down at her table, seeming to be lost in interest rather than eavesdropping.
It was two men, walking into the cafe. The two of them took a seat in the booth near her, sliding roughly into the leather seats with a grunt and quietly ordering some coffee. From what Natasha could see out of the corner of her eye, both men were nicely dressed, their suits prim and proper. But they had a scowl on their face that meant they weren't none too pleased.
Their expressions were written so clearly on their faces that Natasha could read them like a book.
"I didn't lose it." one of the men snapped. "But the thing is out of control. I can't control it. And believe me when I say that I've tried."
"Bullshit. You lost it. Or maybe you gave it away to some scientists, you bastard."
"No, I didn't! Aren't you listening to me? The thing is bloody nuts. We shouldn't be toying with it anymore, or else we're going to end up dead."
Dead. Natasha's mind was whirring quickly, a thousand thoughts in her head. It could be a countless amount of things: ranging from nuclear weapons to mere little dirt-bombs. What were they planning? Natasha picked at her cold croissant a little, tapping her finger against her coffee mug.
"You're just being a wuss. The thing is plenty safe to toy with, and when we build that nucleotransformer ray with it, we shall be millionaires!" There was the sound of someone slurping their coffee, and then a cough. "We'll be more famous than that ignorant American, Stark."
Natasha almost scoffed at that. Good luck.
The other man paused and made a small whiny noise, fiddling with what sounded like silverware. "Then you play with it. I don't want to touch it. Besides, if the feds get a whiff of it-"
"They won't." the man said exasperatingly. Then he leaned in closer, nearly whispering his words. "Take me to it, then. I have the module for the transformer in my car, and we can start the initial project. Then the world will beg to know our secrets."
Natasha took a sip of her coffee once again as the two men got up from their booth and moved out the door, the small bell ringing as they left. She waited a few moments, waiting for the dust to settle before she picked up her own little bag and got up, moving silently towards the glass door.
Even with the blinding sun in her eyes, Natasha calmly took her sunglasses from her little bag and put them on her face. It didn't take her long to spot the two figures bobbing down the street, their heads occasionally ducking out of sight before popping back up again. Natasha followed them silently, following close enough so that she wouldn't lose them, but not so close that they would find out that the same woman had been around them since the cafe.
Before she could reach one of them though, the two men had ducked into their car, the tires squealing as they shot down the street.
You had to make this difficult, didn't you? Natasha grit her teeth as she hopped onto her own little motorcycle, one of Stark's gadgets that allowed her vehicle to come whenever she commanded it to. She appreciated Stark's gift; barely. It started with a soft grumble, and she went down the street after them, trailing behind a good-sized distance.
After a few minutes of turning down cobblestone corners and waiting aimlessly at the stupid little stop lights, she had lost them. Their large black car had blended in with the rest of traffic.
Natasha pressed a button on the small dash of the motorcycle, and spoke into it softly. "Black Honda, two white males in the car. Trace the energy signature."
Just like that, Natasha could see the little GPS on the dash light up. There was a small arrow pointing down the street, and then it curved into a corner and disappeared from view. She revved her bike and was riding again, this time following the little red arrow as it led her to her targets. As she had hoped, the GPS had picked up on the strange energy signature that she was hunting, the signal growing invariably stronger each second that passed by.
She was close to it.
Just as she had expected, she saw the black Honda sitting on the curb in front of a large building. A large sign stood in the middle of the parking lot of the warehouse, one that was rundown with age and weather. The entire street was deserted, as though no car or person had been through the area in centuries. It was like a ghost town. Natasha squinted as she tried to read the sign that announced what the building was.
Proctor and Gamble: Biotechnology Equipment and Laboratories
With a small humph, Natasha parked her motorcycle and stalked off to the entrance. So, a science building, hm? It would be the perfect place to tinker with new-found energies, to test their weapon.
She touched the door handle and tried to turn it, but it was locked shut. With a scowl she simply went back down the steps and off to the side, where it was hidden from the road. Number one rule of the Assassin world: Never give anyone an opportunity to see you. She thought of this mantra as she scaled the crumbled wall, sliding the window open with some difficultly. The glass was broken, and it shattered a bit as she shoved the frame upward, but it was quiet enough to not draw attention. She slipped through and landed on the floor silently, like a cat jumping from a ledge.
She looked around her and saw abandoned tables, broken lab equipment, and scattered pieces of paper that littered the floor. The room was empty for the most part, although she spotted a few rats skittering across the broken glass and papers, looking for food.
Natasha crinkled her nose and crept out into the hallway, listening intently for any sounds. She knew that the two men were in the building.
There was the sound of footsteps above her head, the ceiling moving along with each steps. Little flakes of paint came floating down, and Natasha scuttled silently into the hallway as she followed the noise.
Two pairs of feet. Decidedly heavy enough to be male. There weren't any voices, but from the obvious stomping around and loud noises of tables being pushed out of the way, the two men had found themselves a quiet place to work. Here, they would be alone to play with whatever toy they had found.
Natasha slowly crept up the stairs, keeping care not to make noise, or to let her feet slip against the concrete steps. She was silent, like a shadow. Her hands didn't touch the walls or the rails, and even her breathing was quiet. The top of her head peered from the wall of the stairway, and she could see the two men bent over a table, their suitcases open and papers scattered on the lab benches.
She narrowed her eyes as one of the men dipped his hands into the open suitcase, his fingers clutched around something small and blue. The light radiated between his fingers, and even in the daylight she could see the rays shining on the concrete ground. There was a soft clunk as the man set down the object and mused to the other one softly, his voice inaudible and garbled.
Enough was enough.
Natasha slid out silently, her gun drawn. Only the soft click of her cocking the gun was heard, and the two men spun around instantly, their own pistols in their hands at the intrusion. As they glared at her and then stared in disbelief, Natasha felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. They were surprised, weren't they? No doubt they hadn't expected a woman to be behind them.
"Hello." Natasha said in a sweet voice, her fingers calm as it rested against the trigger. Her demeanor never wavered. "Get down on the ground now, boys."
One of the men scoffed, looking at the other man with complete and utter frustration. "You told me that no one knew about this, you idiot!" His gaze leveled back to Natasha, cold. "Look, lady. I don't know who you are, or what you want, but I ain't doin-"
A swift kick in the jaw ended his little speech mid-sentence. Natasha spun easily on the heel of her foot, watching as the man fell heavily to the ground and holding his jaw in pain. A little pathetic trickle of blood came from his mouth, pooling down the corner of his hand. The useless pistol that he had held so threateningly in his hand had skittered across the concrete, hitting the wall with a quiet patter. Eyes wide, he spat and glared at her, obvious hatred gleaming in those cloudy eyes.
The other man who was unharmed just stared at her with utter fear. Not as brave as his comrade, it appeared.
"Get down on the ground." Natasha said smoothly, repeating her words. She blinked slowly, as though she was bored with the entire thing. "Or I'll make sure you end up like your little friend here."
"Hey-" the man said sharply, his voice lowered down in a growl. Natasha merely kicked him in the jaw again; not a hair out of place as she resumed her eye contact on the other trembling bastard in front of her.
He looked as though he was going to piss himself. The pistol in his hand was shaking so hard that if he shot, it would go anywhere but her. Natasha quirked her eyebrow.
"W-what do you want?" The man stuttered. His eyes looked at Natasha and then down at his defeated comrade, then back up to Natasha once more. "This don't concern ya! I p-promise!"
"Actually, this does. You have property that doesn't belong to you, and I'm here to get it back." Natasha put down her gun and merely walked towards the table and the man, her eyes cold. Her heels clicked loudly against the floor now, echoing around the room. She was merely inches from the scared man now, and the other one on the floor didn't dare move. The glowing on the table got her attention.
It looked suspiciously like..
An arm came flying towards her face.
Natasha ducked with lightning reflexes, barely missing the limb by an inch. Her own arm came up behind the man to push him forwards, her legs sliding out underneath his own and knocking him to the ground chest-first. The man let out a pained shriek for help, but Natasha merely slammed the heel of her foot into the base of his neck. The screams stopped.
The man with the broken jaw stared at her with renewed fear. Then, anger took it's place as he realized what she had done. Pain forgotten, he got to his feet and rushed forwards, his hands outreached to strangle her little throat.
Natasha merely felt her gun slip into her nimble fingers. The trigger went off with a small little bang, and the man slumped to his knees, blood moving down his forehead. His eyes rolled up as if to see the wound, and then he fell to the floor with a loud and wet thump. There was no sound anymore; just two bodies lying on the ground, utterly lifeless.
Tucking her gun back into her belt, Natasha turned to the table. Amiss the scattered laboratory papers and the scribbly handwriting was the object she had been searching for. She could barely believe her eyes as she stared at it. It hadn't been that long since she had last seen it, but she remembered how desperately she had hoped she would never see it again.
The last time SHIELD had it in their grasp, it nearly caused the end of the world. Captain America himself had recovered the thing from the ocean, and the God of Thunder had taken it away to his realm, where it was out of reach. Thousands of people died; all because of a God with a ferocious temper and a stupid helmet.
The Tesseract. It lay in front of her, looking harmless. But it was pulsing with power, the blue glowing dangerously against the white papers.
With slightly shaking hands, Natasha picked up the Tesseract and placed it back into it's suitcase, the object latching securely against the grey foam. The lid was pushed on the top and the suitcase was firmly gripped together. She held onto the handle and moved away from the table. It was surprisingly heavy for a little blue cube.
She moved around the bodies with careful steps, taking care not to step into the pools of blood. Her heels clicked down the stairs seamlessly, and she pushed her way out of the building, the doors creaking open from months of unuse. Her motorcycle was still perched on the curb.
With a small little smile, Natasha perched her new suitcase on the side of her cycle and hopped onto it, turning the key in the ignition. As the machine roared to life and she rode away, she couldn't help but watch the Proctor and Gamble building slowly disappear from view. With the two scumbags that she had just offed.
Natasha sighed as soon as she couldn't see the building anymore. A heavy feeling of dread replaced the feeling of elation at the success of her mission. She was currently carrying the most dangerous item in the entire universe; one that would decide the future of SHIELD and possibly Earth itself. She slowly took her finger and pressed it to the little Bluetooth device attached to her ear.
She was almost relieved to hear Fury's voice, nearly immediately after the dial tone. "Romanov. Report?"
"Mission successful, sir." Natasha said curtly, gazing at the French view and the hazy caramel sky. "Although, we have a little problem. It seems as though those readings were worse than we had thought. The Tesseract, Fury. It's back."
There was a long, nearly pregnant pause. "You've gotta be kidding me. Tell me this isn't a joke, Romanov."
"I wish." Natasha turned the corner and sped down the nearly abandoned road. She knew that a SHIELD jet would be awaiting her shortly. "I tracked down these two idiots who thought they would be the next Tony Stark. They planned to make a nucleotransformer ray."
"Idiots are everywhere. Regardless, the Tesseract is safe with you?"
"Affirmative." Natasha confirmed. She slowed the motorcycle down and stopped at the end of the abandoned road. "It's safe. For now, anyway."
There was another long pause, and then a sigh. Natasha felt like returning the gesture.
"For now isn't good enough. Come back to base. We'll discuss it then."
Natasha crooked her head as though he could see her. "Who's we?"
"The Avengers Initiative, of course. I haven't forgotten about it. I'll see you soon."
There was a dial-tone, an indication that Fury had hung up. With a soft sigh, Natasha looked at the suitcase hanging on the side of her motorcycle with distaste. She couldn't help but envision the horrible war they had in New York; one complete with the Chitauri and a certain God, standing on top of the Stark Tower with a look of utter triumph on his face.
Natasha scowled. No: Not again.
This time, they would be prepared.