Hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything…yet. Heh heh heh.
A silent, deadly looking plane carrying a more silent and even more deadly female assassin inside touched down in a field just outside the city limits of a small town in Spain. A lithe figure slipped from the plane, shrouded in darkness. She turned, nodded in the general direction of the plane, and continued on her way, a small, black backpack slung over her shoulder. She found herself outside a seedy looking motel, and grimaced. But compared to some of the places she had slept, this wasn't too bad. She strolled into the empty lobby, and seeing no one, she took the liberty of taking one of the room keys behind the desk. It took some effort to wiggle the key into the lock, and the doorknob was slightly sticky as she pushed the door open. With a practiced eye, she glanced over the room and found it was surprisingly clean. She tossed the bag onto the bed and locked the door.
The quiet Spanish murmurings that came from the opposite walls almost lulled her to sleep. She shook her head, trying to shake herself out of her jet-lagged state. The bathroom was small and the shower was emitting a faint musty smell. She stripped out of her black attire and turned on the shower. After a few minutes of hopping from foot to foot as the temperatures went from cold, to colder, to scalding hot, she gave up and returned the other room, slightly more awake than she had been before. She pulled on a silk cobalt colored top and pulled on a pair of black high-waisted shorts. She slid her gun into its holster, which was kept covered by the breezy top. Lastly, she reached into the small side pocket in the bag and retrieved a grainy image. It showed a man holding a bow, an arrow pointing directly at the camera that had taken the picture. "So this is the fabled Hawkeye," she cooed softly, a lilting Russian accent gracing her lips. She ran her fingers along the edge of the photo, almost dreading having to take down such a formidable foe. She sighed, tucked the picture away, pulled on a pair a short, black boots, and slipped into the shadows once more.
The night air of southern Spain was hot and sticky. The slight breeze offered little compensation for the unbearably hot night. In a some-what questionable night club, the same Russian spy sat idly in a secluded corner, eyeing the hundred-some people milling about the place. She stood, and joined the people who were mingling at the bar. People stopped and stared, but this was nothing new to her. Their wide eyes and open mouths begged for her attention. She waved away anyone who approached her; she was hunting bigger game tonight. She sat herself down at the bar and ordered a single shot of vodka. She turned to the man sitting next to her. She put on her best American accent, and said to one of her most hated foes, "Funny that you're the only one here that didn't ask me to dance, when you're probably the only one who I would've said yes to." He half-smiled at her, and said with a small laugh, "Couldn't dance to save my life, wouldn't want to humiliate myself." She laughed and crinkled her nose. Damn those American girls and their idiotic laughs. "Well, I have other business I have to get to, but, ah, if you ever feel like tracking me down… here." She handed him a small piece of paper to him, smiled, then left. A puzzled, then angered, look crossed his face. He faced his partner that sat slouched next to him. "Maria? We've got a problem.
Let's dance bird-boy. –The Black Widow
Natalia Romanova hated many things in life, but alleyways had to be in the top five. So of course, because of her hatred of them, she usually found herself trapped in one. So when she stepped outside the side door of the club and found herself in an alley, she let out an almost inaudible sigh, and started to make her way through the rat infested passage. She sensed their movement sooner than they had probably hoped. Her heart sped up, though she appeared to remain calm. The adrenalin that kept her alive in so many other situations began to pump ion her veins. She turned abruptly and faced two missing KGB Agents that had disappeared shortly before she had left for her mission. "Dolohov, Kovo, what brings you here, I thought you were still supposed to be pretending to be missing?" She said innocently. "The Black Widow program was terminated after they failed to reproduce the serum you were given. So we were sent to terminate you" snarled Dolohov. With that she assumed a defensive position, rolled out of the way as a bullet whizzed past her left ear. She gazed into Kovo's eyes, using her best "I'm-just-a-scared-little-girl-please-help-me" look. She stood as if in a trance, now having the attention of Dolohov. She traced one finger on a scar on Kovo's cheek. She looked back at Dolohov, who seemed puzzled at the sudden turn of events. That was when she took her knee and rammed it into Kovo's stomach. As he doubled over, she gripped Dolohov's arm, flipped herself over it, and sent herself flying into his chest. She leapt up, pulled her gun, but fell back as Kovo's fist came hurtling through the air. These men were massive, born in northern Russia, and bred to be mindless brutes for the KGB. And there were two of them. And they were in alley. The universe was just not in her favor this evening. But when had it ever been in her favor? She ducked another punch, and twisted up behind Dolohov. She pressed down on a nerve near the base near his neck. This would normally kill most people in seconds, but it was just merely uncomfortable for him. She aimed a kick at his head, and he crashed into Kovo, who shoved him away. He reached with a trash can sized hand and reached around her neck. She jerked her leg back into his stomach and was about to send a bullet flying into his thick skull when she saw a grenade fall in front of her. So he had found her. She sprang away, and her two assailants were blasted into the back of the alley. She leaned against the alley wall, and tried to see where her new attacker might be coming from. She shook her head vigorously to rid her head of the ringing that threatened to overtake her, before she could move out into the open, a slivery arrow pierced her shoulder, and pinned her to moist bricks behind her. She narrowed her eyes and focused on her attacker instead of the pain shooting through her shoulder. He dropped from above, and she met his icy blue stare, already calculating how well she could fight pinned to a wall. "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into." She spoke with her rolling Russian accent, not bothering to hide it any more. "I don't? I'm pretty sure there's just a little girl who is in way over her head." At that moment, she delicately plucked the arrow from her shoulder and plunged in into its owner. "Duck" was all she had time to say before dropping to the ground, away from Dolohov's colossal fist now occupying the space she and Barton had been seconds before. She rolled up, and pulled her gun again. She sent one bullet into Dolohov's head. He dropped to the ground. A second bullet was sent into Kovo's jugular vein, and he joined his friend on the cold cobblestone ground. The great Black Widow slumped against the wall that was already stained with her own blood. She knew what was coming, a violent, bloody death. Those agents, from that…what organization were they from? Did it matter? All she knew is that ever since then, she had been running from them. How long had it been? A few weeks at least. He loomed above her, and he caught her gaze. He pulled back. Her eyes looked younger than the rest of her did…much younger. They looked hunted, she was tired. They reminded him of how he looked…before someone had intervened and offered him a better alternative. He put his arrow back in its quiver, and slung his bow back on his shoulder. "Hey Maria, how pissed do you think Fury would be if I brought her in?" He rolled his eyes as Maria started to chew him out. He cut her short with a "We'll be there in five. Have a medic waiting." He held out his hand. She glared at it and pushed herself up. She pressed her hand onto her shoulder, attempting to stem the blood. "Why?" She still seemed wary of him as they made their way through the city. "Somebody once gave me a second chance. Figured you deserved one too." He looked at her, but she didn't reply. "You're not someone else's puppet. Take it from someone who knows," He continued. This time, she gave a slight nod. She made him stop outside the motel where she picked up her backpack. He gave her a questioning look, but didn't say anything. She soon found herself in the same field that she had been dropped off a few hours before. He led her aboard a private jet, and she saw the terrified look on the pilot's face. Maria shot Barton a look, and then ducked into the cockpit. The Black Widow sat back in her seat, and a terrified medic approached her. She waved him off, feeling the effects of the serum working their way through her. She settled back in the chair and watched the ground melt way. Soon after the lights far below vanished and all she could see then was the endless night sky. She fell asleep into a doze to the calming roar of the engines somewhere over the seemingly endless Atlantic Ocean.
Will there be another chapter? Do you want another chapter? R&R and receive a free, invisible Captain America!