"Captain. Come in, Captain. What is your status?" Natasha listened as the private murmured softly into his device, a familiar thrill of apprehension jacking through her veins. When the man raised his head from the device, Natasha noticed traces of fear in his expression. "The Captain isn't responding. Something might have gone wrong. Should we...?" He gestured toward the door with his free hand. Natasha nodded.
"Yes, but proceed cautiously. We don't know what might be waiting outside."
"Of course, Agent Romanoff."
On an impulse, Natasha grabbed the metal casket containing the staff and slung it over her shoulder, adjusting the leather strap as the other solider moved soundlessly across the compartment to the door. Natasha followed him, every nerve in her body like a live wire. Here was the excitement she'd been pleading for. She pressed a finger to her lips, and wrapped her hand around the doorknob. Then, accompanied by a noise parallel to gunfire, she lashed out with her foot, kicking open the metal door. Without wasting time to look around, Natasha dropped to the ground, landing in a low crouch on the metal tracks. She swept a glance across the area. The train had stopped at the edge of a thick pine needle forest that stretched out towards the horizon, chasing the train tracks into the misty grey beyond. They were farther north than she'd realized; the air was cold and sharp, and a thin layer of frost crackled beneath her feet as she stood, muscles tense beneath her fitted black bodysuit. She squinted into the haze. The thin veil of fog provided little cover, though the mist made it difficult to see anything past the tree line, even with Natasha's enhanced vision capabilities. There was a crunch as her guard lowered himself down behind her.
"It's strange," he said in a hushed voice, "I can't get any response. Not from the soldiers, not from the captain, not from anyone. It's like someone went and axed the signal."
"I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case." Natasha gazed into the woods, ill at ease. The deliberately remote location, the communications crash, everything inch of their situation dripped with an unmistakable sense wrongness. "Go check the rest of the occupied cars." she instructed. "I don't think the soldiers know communications are down, they're probably waiting for instruction."
"Affirmative, Agent Romanoff."
The man had only just began to walk away, when Natasha froze.
"Stop."
Her guard turned, his hand slipping instinctively to his waist, towards the gun concealed beneath his coat.
Natasha glanced at him, pressing a finger to her lips. A soft buzzing sound registered at the edge of her senses. She experienced a moment of confusion, trying and failing to place the nature of the sound, before understanding stuck her with the force of a ton of bricks. She spun around, but by then it was too late. She had only just enough time to see her guard slump to the ground, a trickle of red dripping from ragged hole in the side of his head, before the first wave of attackers hit.