Natasha POV
Budapest, the Pearl of the Danube. And what a pearl it was. New technology meshes with the old world charm to create the perfect atmosphere for both business and pleasure seekers alike. This was just like any other mission and yet it turned into something completely different. I'd betrayed the love of my country as well as the love of my deepest friend Ivan to become the one thing I never imagined I would: a Western hero. And for what? All for the love of an American? Apparently so.
3 Days Earlier
The mission was simple. Take down the American ambassador and retrieve the files from within his office. As for what those files contained I had no idea, but I can only assume that whatever it was, was of grave importance to the motherland, and I wouldn't dare question it.
The plane skids to a halt, and like every other passenger aboard it, I stand to grab my carry-on bag from the overhead compartment. There is no need for a suitcase, a simple duffel will do. After all, I will not be here long. Stepping out of the plane and down the passageway, copper curls bounce against my shoulders with each stiletto'd step and keen eyes sweep from side to side once I emerge into the terminal. I was expecting to be greeted by my own personal driver. I'd protested this bit, but the Red Room insisted. Who was I to argue? They'd set up this entire trip and even transferred my weapons to my hotel room to make my trip on the plan much easier.
"Ms. Romanoff," spoke a voice from behind.
I turn gracefully on the balls of my feet to face the man, a polite smile gracing my features as I take the sight of him in. He's rugged at first glance, with scars that cover one side of his face. I'm assuming a knife or something of the sort created those specific wounds, though the pepper-colored stubble does its best to conceal it. My guess is that he's in his 50's or so, possibly even seen war with his battle scars.
"I assume you are to be my ride?"
With the kind smile staying in place, I reach out a hand to shake the man's when he introduces himself as Antov Frederick. My hand silently drops back down to my side when he motions with his own for me to follow him, to which I oblige.