Natalia Romanova slid into Sadiv Derevensky's back seat. The rain that had been beating down on Volgograd for the whole afternoon didn't put a damper on Derecensky's assignment for Natalia. She had taken the whole of the dreary afternoon to gather intel on her target that Sadiv had given her. The target was named Aleksandr Breshnev, a playboy thug from a family of Russian Intelligence Officers inside the government. With his recent defection to an unknown country, it had garnered his death warrant from Sadiv.
Natasha met Sadiv on the outskirts of Volgograd in a abandoned cluster of warehouses. Sadiv had all the treatments of a well-manicured man of money. The dark slick hair, well tailored suit, and the IWC watch to all fit into a specific profile. The man had many means of money, so it irked Natasha that he would need to hire an assassin to finish a job that one of his own henchmen could easily solve. Nevertheless, when Sadiv initially offered the job, she didn't refuse.
The heat in the back of the car was on full blast, which made her wet, dripping red hair cling to the sides of her face and neck. Natasha clenched her teeth as Sadiv droned on about the target, "He's a traitor to our country little girl."
"I'm perfectly aware of the target's allegiances Mr. Derevensky."
Sadiv stopped speaking and stared at Natasha as his eyes lazily scanned up and down her seated body. The more he looked at her, the more cramped and humid the back of the car seemed.
"You seem quite young for an assassin," Sadiv said as he grabbed Natasha's knee. "Too pretty, in fact. The young and pretty Black Widow. You would be a pretty little girl for my club. "
Natasha clenched her teeth harder together in order to fight the impulse of beating the man unconscious. Instead, she grabbed his cubby hand off her knee and gave it a quick twist. He let out a yelp, but she continued, "Mr. Derevensky, don't ever confuse my skill set with your cheap entertainment. You've hired me and you'll get your money worth." She persisted with twisting his wrist slowly hearing the small cracks.
She quickly let go of his over-inflated hand and got out of the car. The cool air from the rainy night was refreshing. She turned back to the open door of the car and ducked her head back in, "Goodnight Mr. Derevensky."
Sadiv Derevensky gingerly held his broken wrist as he looked back at Natasha. The look of pain and flashing anger was plain in his eyes. "You stupid bitch. I can't believe you did this to me. Me! You will die for this. I can assure you—" Before he could continue his rant, Natasha slammed the door shut and gave the back of the car a couple of thuds to tell the driver to move along. With the strict timetable of this assignment she knew that Sadiv Derevensky wouldn't turn the car around.
Natasha weaved through the alleys between the numerous warehouses searching for the target's hideout. When she reached Warehouse 4, a man guarded a small door on the side of the building. Natasha quickly walked up to the man, before he could ask her what she was doing here, and twisted him to the ground. With one swift punch to the head he was unconscious. Natasha took the key card from the man's pocket and swiped herself into the warehouse. Behind a cover a shipping crates, she looked into the center of the room and saw the target, Aleksandr, with two men as guards. She scanned the rest of the room and saw that there weren't any possible locations for other reinforcements. If the timetable that Sadiv had given her was correct, she had exactly two hours before anyone else would show up. So, it was just Aleksandr, the two men, and Natalia Romanova.
She walked out into the middle of the warehouse and wasted no time attacking the two men who surrounded Aleksandr Breshnev. She curled her thighs around one of the men's necks when she had gained momentum and broke his neck. He immediately crumpled to the floor, while the other man tried to stand himself up. Natasha took the opportunity and quickly ended him. During the fight, Aleksandr had fallen to the ground and was whimpering in fear. He slowly scooted away from Natasha when her eyes bore into his. She took the gun from her holster and aimed it towards his chest. Before she had clicked the safety off, an arrow from high above sailed down into her right thigh. The pain was searing, but the adrenaline from the fight kept it from becoming debilitating.
"Don't step any closer to him," a low voice said from high above on her right side. An American. Natasha's green eyes savagely flicked in the direction of the echoing voice.
"And if I do," Natasha questioned back, hoping for the man to speak again.
"It won't be a warning shot this—"
That is all Natasha needed from the man's voice. She pinpointed a vague area where the voice was coming from and clicked her gun's safety off. She fired five shots into the dark air above her towards the right side of the warehouse. A loud groan cut into the ringing silence after the gunshots and a man began to fall from the high place he had been perched. On the way down to the floor of the warehouse one of the many shipping crates cradled the man's fall. The crate broke and the man rolled ungracefully to the hard cement floor.
She walked over to the man lying on the ground. She would wait for him to get up to stand up to have an even chance, but she was still very curious why one American was here in Volgograd guarding three Russians. Without hesitation she asked, "Who are you?"
The man looked up with a slight smirk on his face that quickly grimaced in pain, "Agent Barton," he said through heavy breaths, "And who the hell are you?"