Notes:
This is the actual beginning of the story.
Remember in CACW after the airport fight scene, there was a scene showing Natasha and Tony having a conversation at the compound? Yeah. This chapter picks up from there.
"Fly, you fools!" – Gandalf Greyhame, Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R Tolkien.
If she was anywhere near the brink of falling apart, she didn't show it.
Not yet.
Not when there were still things that needed to be done.
Not when it was up to her to pick up the broken pieces; to clean up the spilt milk.
She would not fall, she thus willed herself.
Natasha Romanoff defined control.
She breathed composure and poise.
She was the Black Widow. And people could only see what she allowed them to see.
The Black Widow was a mask. A veil. A cloak that concealed her heart from prying eyes. A heart which was, right then, a seething cauldron; a brew of fear, trepidation, unease, and desperation.
Vulnerable. Her heart was vulnerable. It was at the brink of breaking, of pulverization. A volcano awaiting eruption.
But it mattered not.
As long as she was the Black Widow, she figured no one would know better.
And just like that, she'd don her mask. Her cloak of indifference. Her safety blanket.
Behind her alter-ego, she would be safe. Behind her alter-ego, she could hide. Behind her alter-ego, she could pretend that she was okay.
Like as if her world hadn't just flipped on its axis. Like as if she hadn't just a few hours ago witnessed her friends, her family, tearing at each other's throats like a pack of blood-lusting cannibals.
Her mask was up, for it was the only shield she had left that remained unbroken.
Everything else was broken.
The two Avengers stood at the veranda. Staring out into the green paddock which encircled the compound. Each engrossed in their own thoughts and reflections.
Birds chirped.
Recruits marched.
Doctors bustled.
The Earth continued its rotation, seemingly unperturbed by the weight of recent events.
It appeared routine. Just like another ordinary day at the New Avengers' Facility. Calm. Familiar. Normal.
Except that it wasn't.
Because everything had changed. Normal didn't exist anymore, at least for the Earth's Mightiest Heroes.
And right then, 'normal', was nothing but an illusion.
The Captain's denouncement marked the final stages of the endgame.
It was the end of the Avengers' Initiative.
The end, of an era.
What remained, was an empty shell of a compound, a ghost of its past. And a half-crippled teammate.
Her mouth opened, in a way that exuded aloofness.
She spoke.
"Steve's not gonna stop."
There was an unsettling calmness in her voice. A flat cadence.
Indifferent. Calm. Detached. Idiosyncratic Black Widow.
To the untrained ear, her words sounded more like a mere statement of fact. Cold. And uncaring.
But then again, they both knew better.
They both knew the exact tenor behind her words.
No. It wasn't a mere statement of fact.
It was a plea.
Birds twittered over the heads of the two Avengers, saturating the air with an illusion of normalcy.
The silence of her companion was unnerving, she realized, even more so than her own raging emotions.
His unresponsiveness appalled her. Almost as if he didn't care.
She tried again.
"If you don't rein in, then Rhodey's only gonna to be the best case scenario."
This time, however, her words found their mark, and her companion reacted.
But a sharp accusation was all she got in return.
"You let them go, Nat."
It was right then that the first crack formed on her Black Widow mask.
God, can't he see that this is beyond who's right and who's wrong anymore?
"We played this wrong."
Tony bristled, "We?! Boy. It must be hard to shake the whole double agent thing, huh? Sticks in the DNA."
The Black Widow mask splintered.
Wow. She had to admit, that stung. Even coming from Tony, that was a fucking low blow.
For a moment, Natasha Romanoff was stunned into silence. Stupefied by the incredulity of the situation, and by the behavior of her companion.
Another winged creature chirped above them.
"Are you incapable of letting go of your ego for one GODDAMN second?" she seethed, finally realizing what a complete waste of time the conversation was.
Perhaps she should've seen this coming all along. After all, it wasn't like there'd be a day where Tony could stop being, well, Tony.
Natasha's initial plan had been pretty straight forward. In her mind, she would approach Tony calmly, and then try to smooth things out. And perhaps (hopefully) talk some sense into him. After all, she pretty much had nothing to lose at that point anyway, so she figured she'd at least try. And hell, the best case scenario? She figured she might even be able to persuade Tony into helping Steve. What with the way things played out, she was pretty sure that Steve was heading straight into the jaws of death. As great as Captain America was, simultaneously taking on 5 physically enhanced super soldiers with Barnes as his only backup was way too risky. It was simply too much, even for someone with Steve Rogers' capabilities.
What if Barnes transformed into the Winter Soldier again? What then?
Could Steve survive a battle against six Winter Soldiers?
She knew how strong Steve was, but still. Could he survive?
Why hadn't she thought of that at the hangar before she let Steve go?
Goddamnit. She shouldn't even be here. She should've gone along with Steve, wherever the hell he was off to. She should've been alongside Steve, watching his back, keeping him safe; not standing here, listening to Tony's relentless rants about double agents and DNAs.
She should've gone along with Steve.
She should've.
But she hadn't. And boy, was she regretting it now.
"T'Challa told Ross what you did. So, they're coming for you."
Yeah. Newsflash, there was always somebody coming after her. She was popular like that.
Enough was enough.
"I'm not the one that needs to watch their back."
Natasha Romanoff turned on her heels.
She stormed out.
She didn't look back.
Screw the law. Screw the Accords. She needed to help Steve, even if she had to do it all on her own. She owed him that much, damn it. He had saved her life once. What good was she if she couldn't even return the favor? She had once promised him, that if it were down to her to save his life then she would do it a heartbeat. And it was a promise she intended to keep. But first, she had to disappear, fast. Couldn't imagine being helpful if she was locked up in some high tech underwater prison facility.
Hang in there, Steve…
With every ounce of stealth she could muster, Natasha slipped past the facility's common room into her personal quarters. It took her merely fifteen minutes to stuff all her on-the-run essentials into a black duffel bag. Being a highly trained spy, she never really needed much anyway. She was trained to obtain whatever she needed from her surroundings, to blend in and hide in plain sight. Besides, travelling light definitely had its bonuses, especially for a fugitive. Her catsuit, her batons, her Widow's Bite, a few pieces of casual clothing, a big bundle of cash, two photo frames (each containing artworks which she treasured, Steve had drawn and given them both to her as a gift), a photostatic veil/nano mask, an electronic voice changer, a wig, a couple of fake passports and IDs, a pair of binoculars, a set of special contact lenses, a bunch of burner phones, 2 of her loaded Glock 26 handguns, her hacker's toolkit and a laptop; those were pretty much the contents of her duffel bag by the time she was done.
Dumping the bag on the bed, Natasha took a deep breath and mentally formulated a plan. She'd obviously need a vehicle. Stealing a quinjet would definitely be a no-go, since they were overly conspicuous (which kinda defeats the whole blending-in idea). Her only choice left would be her car parked in the facility's garage. Immediately, she fired up her laptop, hacked into the garage's video surveillance network and replaced the live security feeds with a dummy video (which may or may not be the garage's security footage from the day before). The dummy video provided her an approximate time window of 8 minutes to get to her car and drive off without being caught on tape. Not exactly a lot of time, but it would do. Without further delays, she grabbed her duffel bag off the bed and stormed towards the exit of her quarters. On the way out, she took out a bogus license plate which she kept hidden in her shoe drawer, and then made a dash for the garage.
Natasha's black Corvette Stingray was parked in its usual spot. A quick visual sweep found the garage to be clear of occupants. Perfect. She approached her vehicle, deftly swapped the original license plate with the bogus, destroyed her Corvette's GPS device, dumped her duffel bag onto the passenger seat and hopped onto the driver's seat. Once seated, she began working on her disguise. With practiced ease, she successfully donned her special contact lenses, her wig, and her nano mask/photostatic veil, all done in just under 1 minute. She had first obtained the nano mask years ago, when she impersonated the World Security Councilwoman in order to infiltrate the Triskelion in DC. The nano mask had since then become a necessary part of her spy kit. She did a second visual sweep of the garage to make sure that it was clear before hitting the ignition switch of her car. Shortly afterwards, she was speeding away from the New Avengers Facility at 205 miles per hour.
The nano mask altered her facial features, and with her wig on, she was just another excited blonde on a solo road trip, one who clearly didn't give a single fuck about getting a speed ticket. Not the best cover, admittedly, though that was all she could pull off given the time constraints she was placed under.
Espionage 101, hiding in plain sight. Check.
Ten minutes later, as Natasha took an exit leading from the compound into the main highway, she reached into her duffel bag and grabbed one of her burners to make a call. She needed aid. She mentally ran through her list of trusted contacts.
Nick? No. Too busy being dead. Can't risk blowing his cover.
Hill? No. She works at the Avengers' facility, with the Accords in action, the government will be watching her every move like a hawk. Can't risk it.
Natasha made a split second decision and dialed a familiar number.
The call connected on the second ring.
"About damn time, Natasha."
"Phil, how much do you know?"
"Enough to be expecting your call." Coulson replied tersely.
"Laura and the kids, are they safe?" Natasha asked without ado. There was an uncharacteristic quiver in her voice as she addressed her foremost concern.
She held her breath, awaiting Phil's response.
Apprehension chomped away at her insides, making her feel sick to her stomach. For a second there, she thought she might actually throw up all over the dashboard. By some miracle, she didn't.
Phil had the line on hold, possibly to make some calls to his agents. At the thought of that possibility, Natasha felt the tight knot in her stomach ease a little. At least Phil already had a couple of his loyal agents watching over Clint's family.
Thing was, Natasha had absolutely zero doubt that the government would be zealously digging up everything about Clint as of then, just because they had then a legit excuse to do so, what with Clint being labeled a 'criminal' and all. Yes, Natasha knew all about the humongous efforts Fury had made in order to keep Laura and the kids hidden from the rest of the world, and, well, since it was the work of Nick Fury, then the Barton Homestead was surely the safest place on planet Earth for any of them.
But still…
She couldn't rest until she'd known for sure. She just had to know.
Please be safe. Please be safe. Please be safe.
The line reconnected, and Coulson's voice drew her attention back into their conversation.
"They're fine. My agents have visuals on them." said Coulson through the line.
Natasha released the breath she had been holding. Time seemed to unfreeze and tick away at a normal rate once again.
She exhaled, "Thank God."
"Don't worry, the farm isn't compromised, Natasha. At the moment, I've got Lance and Morse watching the farm 24-7. At least until the fallout dies down. Look at it this way, as far as the world is concerned, the Barton household is pretty much non-existent, so it shouldn't be a problem. But I'll keep a lookout just in case." Coulson reassured.
"Thanks, Phil." Natasha sighed in relief. The last thing Natasha wanted was to see Clint's family – which she had come to see as her own over the years – dragged into this whole fiasco.
"Cap?" Coulson asked, his voice laced with an uncanny mixture of awe and concern. Big surprise there.
"He's alive, but I don't know Phil…"
"Is he in danger?"
Natasha snorted.
"Yeah well, he wasn't when I last saw him. But he might as well be, considering the guys that he's going after. He's outgunned AND outnumbered, Phil."
"Who's he after?" Coulson inquired, undoubtedly beginning to sense the onset of a dreadful situation, one that could possibly lead to the loss of America's champion.
"If Barnes is right, five other Winter Soldiers. All serum enhanced physiologies. Highly trained killers." Natasha responded.
"Wait, what?"
"I said Cap's tracking down 5 Winter Soldiers." Natasha snapped.
"What the hell? Two years ago, one of them wreaked enough havoc to nearly destroy DC… and now you're tellin' me that there're five more of them?"
"Yeah…looks like HYDRA had been busy right under our noses, Phil." said Natasha gravely.
"Jesus."
Natasha scoffed, "Are you really that surprised? It's HYDRA we're talkin' about here."
"Okay… So, you're saying that Cap is off somewhere to take on these guys…"
"Yep."
"As in right now… or? How long ago was this?"
"He took off in a quinjet when Tony and I confronted him at the airport. I'd say that was about 3 hours ago."
"Damn it." Coulson swore under his breath.
Natasha remained silent.
"And? Who's with him? Tell me that he'd at least brought a team with him…"
"Only Barnes." Natasha answered grimly.
"Shit."
The atrociousness of the situation finally dawned in on Coulson.
"What about Stark?" Coulson asked after taking a calming breath.
"Shell-head still thinks that Steve's wrong. Doesn't believe Steve's story either. He thinks that Barnes had manipulated Steve. Look, we can't count on Stark or any of the others in the compound right now. The only people that we can count on are either, (A) underwater, or apparently, (B) on the run." Natasha replied wryly.
"Think Barnes can be trusted?" Coulson asked, though his tone held not a single shred of optimism.
"Cap seemed to trust him." Natasha sighed into the speaker, "And frankly, given HYDRA's history, I think those leads that Barnes gave him are worth following through. But I still don't like it, Phil. It's too goddamn risky. You know, that fake UN psychiatrist? He was the real reason Barnes was able to break free from the containment cell in Berlin. I know 'cause I was there. This guy knows how to activate the Winter Soldier. All he needs to do is to get a few words into Barnes head, and Barnes would be a goner. Worse, if Steve's right about the psychiatrist being the one behind all of this, then the bastard's probably gonna be there, wherever Steve's headed to, just waiting for Cap and Barnes to show up. What if he tries to turn Barnes into the Winter Soldier again? If that happens, Cap will be up against six supersoldiers all on his own, Phil… Six. It's suicide." Natasha explained, not even bothering to hide the dread in her voice.
Coulson sighed gravely.
"Well, it's too late to worry about that now. We're gonna have to bank on the fact that Rogers knows what he's doing, Natasha. After all, he's Captain America." Coulson said, and with no less amount of pride too at the end.
Natasha rolled her eyes.
Ever the President of the Captain America fan club.
"God, I sure hope you're right this time, Phil."
"What about Cap's location? Can you trace it?" Coulson asked hopefully.
"I know a way, but I need to get to a safe-house first, and fast. I can't just stop anywhere. The government's got their eyes trained on me and their eyes are everywhere. Plus, I'd need that old tracking software that I had written for SHIELD ages ago, oh, and a secure laptop. Actually, I was kinda hoping you could provide me with the tools." Natasha answered.
"Got a safe-house in mind?"
"Clint's farm. That's safe enough for me, since you said it isn't compromised. Plus, I gotta deliver a message to Laura." Natasha replied brusquely.
"Alright. Just make sure that you're not followed."
Another eye roll from the red head.
"What am I, a rookie?" Natasha responded with unmasked exasperation.
She knew that Phil meant well, but, sheesh, he could at least have a little faith in her adept in espionage – a skill which she had honed to its absolute zenith by the time she was only 13, mind him.
"Look, a little friendly warning doesn't hurt given so much at stake and you know how important this is, Natasha. The farm's top secret, Fury went through great lengths to keep it that way." Coulson chastised. His tone firm and calm. Fatherly.
Typical Coulson.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, watch my six, go on stealth, yada, yada, yada, I think I got it." Natasha sassed. Natasha had almost added 'dad' at the end, but had restrained her sassiness by just a teeny-weeny bit. Not exactly a good idea to piss off her one and only aide after all.
"What else you need?" Coulson broached the real reason for her call.
Wasting no time, the spy rattled off the items from the mental checklist she had made while she was making a beeline for the garage back at the compound.
"A quinjet capable of stealth mode stocked with weapons and food supply, a secure hideout outside the States that can accommodate at least 10 people, and a SHIELD issued laptop." Natasha demanded.
"Done."
"Oh, and don't forget to get me a copy of that tracking software I mentioned before." Natasha added as she maneuvered the Corvette skillfully around the highway traffic.
"Affirmative. I'll make sure it's included in that laptop you asked for."
The corvette sped past a Black SUV before the road was clear again.
"Thanks, Phil. Hey, listen, I gotta go. Can you pull some strings from behind? Throw them off my back, at least for a while?" Natasha asked as a final favor, keeping her eyes trained on her rearview mirror until the SUV was no longer in sight.
"No problem, Natasha. You take care of yourself, okay?"
"Yeah. Okay. Send my love and thanks to your love birds, would you?" Natasha sighed, feeling monumentally grateful for the two loyal agents who were watching over Clint's farm for threats. After all, if Coulson trusted the two agents, then she could be damn sure that Laura and the kids were in good hands.
"Huh?" Coulson paused for a good 2 seconds, "Oh. You mean Lance and Bobbi?"
Natasha smirked, and said drily, "No. I meant you and Melinda."
Coulson cleared his throat harshly, or rather, disapprovingly. Another obvious indication for her to rein in her sass. Oops.
She rolled her eyes, "Of course, I meant Lance and Bobbi."
"Message received. I'm sure they'd love to hear from you anyway. Anything else you need?"
"Nah. I'm good for now. Thanks again, Phil. I owe you."
"You're welcome. Godspeed, Romanoff. Stay safe."
The call ended with a click, and Natasha chucked the burner phone onto the passenger seat, albeit a little more forcefully than necessary.
Natasha's fingers tightened against the steering wheel as the stress of her situation began catching up to her.
Her whole world was about to crash, again. The people she had come to think of as family were torn apart because of some bureaucratic agenda; the whole goddamn world was trying to put her in jail; her best friend (who also happen to be a devoted husband and a father of 3) was incarcerated in a friggin' underwater container; Steve, the man she lov… CARED ABOUT (sheesh, no idea where that came from… but it definitely wasn't a Freudian slip. Nope. Definitely wasn't) was about to face off a squad of 5 highly trained, physically enhanced super soldiers with only one mentally unstable, brainwashed war buddy (who also happen to be another highly trained, physically enhanced assassin, with a freaking metal arm, by the way) as his backup. Yeah, like that's gonna end well. And to pile more shit on her already ridiculously shitty shit pile of a situation, her misbehaving and devilish inner voice had then and there decided to come out and play. And no, they never play nice. The taunting of her inner demons slipped past her mental fortresses before she could even stop them.
"You deserve this life for all the red in your ledger…Natalia…you deserve this…"
"Nothing bodes well for anyone associated with you…you exist only to stain your ledger with blood. You're a born killer, Natalia…"
"Your ledger is about to go redder…..if it is even possible for it to be any redder than it already is..."
"Everything about you is red, Natalia…Blood red…"
"You are dripping with blood, Natalia… every single part of you…"
"Black Widow… RED Widow… DROWNING in blood…"
"Can you wipe out that much red…?"
"This is all your doing, Natalia!"
"All their blood is on your hands…"
"Steve's blood is on your hands…"
"Your hands…stained…with Captain America's blood…it will be your greatest sin by far…"
"An unforgivable sin…"
"You're a monster…Natalia."
"It's all your fault, Natalia."
"This is all your doing…"
"You let him go without enough backup…"
"You led Captain America to his DEATH…you monster…"
"The death of Captain America… by YOUR HANDS!"
"This is MY bargain, you mewling quim!"
Natasha gasped out loud.
SCREECH!
Natasha slammed her foot on the brakes, bringing the Corvette Stingray to an abrupt, smoke-trailing halt.
Okay. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck!
Why now of all times, damn it! I've got no time for this shit.
STOP IT. Please, not NOW. She chastised herself.
She really needed to pull herself together, Steve needed her, and she couldn't allow herself to fall apart, not this time. Two sets of beautiful fingers clenched tightly on the Corvette's leather clad steering wheel. So forceful were the grips that her knuckles turned yellowish-white in hue. She slammed her head against the headrest and took several calming breaths.
Block them out. Rationalize. Now you've got a chance to clear your ledger, and that's by helping Steve, trade your life for his if necessary. Natasha thought to herself as she fought vehemently against her mental demons.
She wondered how many times she had fought this same battle over the years.
How many times had her mind taunted her to the brink of insanity?
Then again, she supposed she wouldn't know. Pretty sure she had lost count ever since… ever since… when exactly? Sao Paolo? The children's hospital? Or was it ever since she killed Drakov's daughter? God, how could she ever forget the face of that lifeless little girl? That haunted look with a gaping bullet hole between her eyes. That little girl never stood a chance when it all happened, when the Black Widow happened.
A minute later, upon realizing that parking a sports car in the middle of a highway would probably rouse unnecessary suspicion, Natasha shifted her car in gear and sped off once again.
Get a fucking grip, Romanoff. You are a highly trained super spy for heaven's sake. Keep your emotions in check.
Natasha's mind crunched away rapidly, matching the engines of the Corvette rev-per-rev as the vehicle picked up speed. How the fuck did everything come to this? Where did it all go wrong? Just 2 days ago they were carrying out a mission as usual, them, as a team, a family. And now they were nothing. Nothing but ashes that were left trailing behind a blazing inferno. Piece by piece her world had collapsed before her own eyes, in series, like a chain of toppling dominoes.
Something must have triggered this domino effect. What was it?
Grateful to have something to occupy her mind as she drove, Natasha began thinking. Her mind worked furiously. Rationalizing, analyzing, and dissecting every event leading up to this hellhole.
Eventually, Natasha realized in hindsight, that she was really the one who had pushed the first domino after all. This all started because of her.
Here was how it all happened. It was all due to a hunch that she had about 3 weeks ago…
That night 3 weeks ago, they were sitting in Steve's office back at the compound, both her and Steve, pouring over intel. It was one of those frustrating nights where they hit dead ends everywhere until they eventually stumbled upon gold…
Captain America leaned back abruptly in the chair and raked his hands through his blonde hair, "Any new sightings on Rumlow?"
"Nope. Nothing. No new hits on facial recognition either." Natasha said after double checking the displays on her tablet.
"Damn it!" Steve blew out a sigh of frustration, "15 months, Nat. We've got the FBI, the CIA and Interpol all putting out BOLOs on him for 15 months now, yet we're still nowhere close to getting a real location. I mean I know he's a killer, but I've never really pegged him as a ghost until now."
"He's ex-HYDRA, Steve. Which means he's good at hiding. After all, they hid themselves within SHIELD for decades without anyone noticing." Natasha dropped her tablet onto the desk and rubbed her eyes tiredly, "And besides, there's only so much that facial recognition could do when the subject's face is acutely damaged." She managed a wry smile at her Captain.
"How about this? What if we bring in a few HYDRA rats and let Wanda tap into their minds. Maybe they'd know something. Safehouse locations, rendezvous points. Those are valuable intel we could use to find him. Rumlow might've defected from HYDRA, but he still used to be one of them. Who knows, he might have been stealing HYDRA resources for his own use?" Steve ranted.
She picked up her tablet again, "That's actually a good idea. But, I don't think Wanda's ready to push her powers to that stage yet. Remember that it took her months just to perfect her telekinesis. And the training completely wore her out, Steve. I'm afraid her body couldn't take it. And plus, we still haven't fully figured out the side effects her powers might've have on her physiology. So, I'm worried that if we push too far, then…"
"Yeah. I know. I know. There are risks…"
Natasha smiled, "Maybe sometime in the future…I don't think now's the right time. As for Rumlow, we'll find him, Steve. Trust me, he can't hide forever. Sooner or later, something will draw him out and he'd make a mistake."
Steve nodded while Natasha's attention returned to her tablet.
"There's gotta be something that we're missing though…" Steve drawled.
Natasha went silent as she scrolled through some documents on her tablet. Her eyes danced around rapidly as she read.
Steve watched her.
"What do we have so far?" Steve prompted.
"Nothing solid. But I think Interpol compiled a pretty decent report yesterday… Have you read it?" Natasha said without looking up from the screen.
"You mean the one about some masked terrorist/ illegal arms dealer?"
"Yeah. That's the one."
"I read it. Interpol claimed a 95% match with Rumlow's physical profile…"
"95% is a pretty good figure. FRIDAY even verified the math." said the spy.
"I know. But that's still a long shot, Nat. There's gotta be hundreds of people all over the world with that same profile. We don't even know if it's really him."
Natasha hummed noncommittally, still staring intensely at the document on her tablet, zealously studying the contents displayed on its screen.
The Captain narrowed his eyes, "You disagree…"
Natasha finally looked back up at him, her eyes dead serious, "I think Interpol's onto something."
Steve's eyes lit up, "You think it's him."
"And with good reasons. Check this out." Natasha waved the tablet in the air, "FRIDAY, can you give us access to the holography for this, please?"
"Right away, Miss Romanoff."
The report by Interpol was enlarged and displayed in hologram form. The hologram hovered several inches above Steve's desk.
"Okay, Nat. What are we looking for?" Steve sat up straighter.
"Check out the timing of the masked terrorist's first appearance. Notice anything strange?"
For several seconds, The Captain stared silently at the hologram. Two more seconds ensued until it finally clicked.
"Hey… Isn't that around the same time when SHIELD collapsed?"
"And also, take a look at this report by the FBI." Natasha said, passing the tablet over to Steve.
"This is… wait… this is the report about the assault on the nurse and-"
Natasha interjected, "And the death of the FBI agent assigned to watch over Rumlow at the hospital. FBI planned to take Rumlow into custody the moment he wakes. So they stationed an agent in his room. Next thing they knew, the agent was found strangled to death, with Rumlow missing. But here's the interesting part. Take a look at the date of the reported incident."
Understanding dawned on the Captain.
"Son of a gun…"
"Yeah. Interpol's reported date of the masked terrorist's first sighting is only 4 days AFTER the date of the FBI agent's murder. That can't be a coincidence, Steve."
"So it's him."
"Pretty sure."
"Good eye, Nat. I can't believe I missed that." The Captain eyed his co-leader with admiration and respect.
The spy smirked and moved to pick up the discarded tablet.
She joked, "You sure seem to catch on pretty quickly for an older fella…"
Steve chuckled, "What more did Interpol give us? Anything that can help us trace him?"
"Nothing useful…" Natasha drawled as she scrolled through the document, "uh…just a bunch of detailed reports on each sightings of the masked terrorist." Natasha snorted a little, "And, pretty much all of them involves illegal weapons."
"Why would an ex-HYDRA agent suddenly end up running an arms cartel? It doesn't fit the previous M.O." the Captain shook his head.
"Well, that's just how it is, according to Interpol. And as far as I can tell, it's pretty consistent. I mean, check out what he's done over the last 2 years. This guy raids military bases all over the world, and almost all of the raided bases had had their armories emptied out. He intercepts shipments too, just 7 months ago, he intercepted a cargo ship travelling across the Atlantic to Europe. Take a guess at the cargo's contents."
"Weapons?"
The spy nodded, "Tanks, fighter jets, assault rifles, bazookas. That shipment's got everything. But he only took the small stuff. Only the rifles, the bazookas and some explosives were missing from the shipment."
"I guess that makes sense. You can't exactly go into hiding with a couple of tanks in tow." Steve said drily.
"Yeah. But the point is, it's always the same M.O. He'd organize attacks on cargo ships, military bases, weapons factories and etcetera. It's always someplace that had to do with weapons. It's clear that he's stealing weapons."
"Even so, Nat. That doesn't narrow it down enough for us to find him. Okay, so now that we know he's going after weapons, and more specifically, he's targeting military bases. But there are thousands of military bases all over the world. We can't cover them all. And weapons shipments? There're probably millions of those every day. At this point, we're still grasping at straws." The Captain leaned back in his chair.
"Yeah. But this is still the best lead we've got so far. I plan to look further into this."
"We need to find a pattern. Maybe FRIDAY can help us." Steve suggested.
"See that's the problem, Steve. There aren't any patterns at all." Natasha made two quick swiped at the screen, "Even if we look at –"
Natasha froze.
"Nat?"
Her face wore an intense expression by the time she looked up.
"Nat? What is it? I know that look. You have something."
"I uh… it's just a hunch. It could be nothing…"
"Come on, Nat. You and I both know that your hunches are never just nothing. So, let's hear it."
"It says here that 5 months ago was the last time Interpol had had any sightings of Rumlow." Natasha stared pointedly at the Captain.
"5 months ago?" Steve raised his brows, "And then?"
"And then he went completely radio silent."
"Inactive? For FIVE months?" said Steve skeptically.
"Yeah. Just look." said Natasha, the tablet held out in front of her.
Steve frowned, "That's weird."
"That's what I thought too. I mean, Interpol had been doing a pretty good job keeping tabs on him so far. But ever since 5 months ago? There're just no more sightings of him. And get this, Rumlow's activities had been pretty consistent over the last two years. His attacks always happened twice every month. Sometimes even up to three times a month. But here's the thing, he never went radio silent for more than a month."
Steve leaned forward, "But now he's been quiet for 5 months. A break in his pattern."
Natasha nodded, "So either he's dead or…"
Steve caught on, "Or he's laying low and planning something big."
"Think about it, Steve. That question you asked before. Why would an ex-HYDRA agent suddenly involve himself in arms-dealing? I mean, he could've gone off grid with nobody ever tracing him, but instead he went around organizing terrorist attacks? And raiding shipments? Why draw all that attention to himself? And of all the things that he could be involved in, why weapons?"
It didn't take long for the Captain to fully catch on to Natasha's insinuation.
Steve snapped his fingers, "Rumlow needed access to weapons. That's why he stole all those things… God, it all makes sense now. Rumlow's amassing firepower for some reason.
A brief silence ensued as Steve further contemplated the implications of their new insight.
"He needs those guns because he's planning a bigger attack. And by running an arms cartel, he could pack on guns AND cash." Steve said a few seconds later.
Natasha added, "Not just that. He could've stolen all those weapons covertly without ever showing his face. But instead, he made sure that Interpol caught glimpses of every single one of his activities? A bit strange, don't you think?"
"You saying he's drawing attention to himself on purpose?" Steve asked.
"Yeah. It's like putting out a calling card. And you know what that means, Steve…"
Steve closed his eyes in realization, "He's recruiting…"
"Shit. We might be running out of time. He's 5 months ahead of us." Natasha stated gravely.
"Damn. But we're still nowhere close to finding him, Nat. Now that he's got enough weapons stocked up, his next target could be anything, heck, it might not even be linked to weapons anymore. We've got no real leads. Not even a place to start."
Natasha sighed, "No, there's gotta be somewhere we could start looking. I mean, if he's really planning something big, then he's got to have a systematic approach to all his ops, right? Like some sort of general direction that he's headed towards or-"
Once again, Natasha froze, and her gaze immediately found Steve's.
They stared at each other and smiled. It was a smile that indicated that they had both figured it out.
"His last known location." They both said together.
"Bingo. That's where we start. If he's got something planned, it'd make perfect sense that he would work towards the location of his next target." Natasha said as she flipped through the tablet again.
Steve nodded in agreement, "Right. It simplifies the logistics."
"Exactly. Hey, Steve, look at this. It says here that his last attack was at some Marine base in Nigeria. It's called Ukpokiti Marine Terminal."
"What's the damage?"
"Dead soldiers. Burnt buildings. It's his usual M.O., an open attack in broad daylight."
"Christ. That's exactly like you said, Nat. He's drawing attention to himself. Did he steal anything?"
"Yeah. One truck. One tank. And guns."
"Nigeria." Steve steepled his fingers, "If we could get a list of all possible targets…"
"Right there with you, Steve. FRIDAY?"
"How may I be of assistance, Miss Romanoff?"
"We need a list of potential targets for terrorist attacks in Nigeria. Can you compile that list for us? Oh, it's best if we could get data on the locations as well. Coordinates, addresses, as much details as you can possibly get." Natasha ordered.
"The specifics?" FRIDAY asked.
Natasha thought for a while before answering, "Focus the search on locations within a 100 kilometer radius from Ukpokiti Marine Terminal. Pay special attention to major events within the area of search. Like festivals, conferences, group celebrations, well, basically those things that involve lots of civilians. Those could be targets-"
Steve interrupted, "You're thinking some form of mass destruction or massacre?"
"Think about all the weapons he stole on his previous raids. C-fours? Bazookas? Explosives? And don't forget the tank he took from the marine base. I'd say that it's more than just a possibility, Steve. Rumlow's aiming for maximum casualty."
Steve nodded, "FRIDAY?"
"Yes, Captain Rogers?"
"I wanna know if there are any high-end shipments going into Nigeria." Steve ordered before turning back to address Natasha, "we can't overlook the possibility that he might be there to steal something again."
"Any specifics regarding the shipments, Captain?" FRIDAY prompted.
"Weapons? Cash? Anything that might be of interest to an international terrorist." said Steve.
Ten minutes later, they struck gold.
"Miss Romanoff, Captain Rogers, I have something. It seems that there's a heavily guarded shipment bound for Lagos. More specifically, it's headed for the IFID headquarters in Lagos."
"IFID…Institute For Infectious Diseases." Natasha drawled before her eyes widened in recognition, "Steve, bio weapons…"
Steve tensed up.
"FRIDAY. When's the payload due?" Steve asked.
"ETA 3 weeks from now. It will first arrive by ship, and then it'll be transferred to the HQ via a military convoy." FRIDAY reported.
"What about details regarding the payload? Did you find anything?"
"None available, Captain."
"So it's top secret…" Steve said, throwing Natasha a knowing look.
"Bingo. We've nailed him, Steve. Finally."
"Not yet." Steve shook his head, "We can't just walk in there. It's still their turf. An unchartered territory to us. We might need more time to plan."
"Steve, relax. We've got 3 weeks. That's plenty of time."
Steve nodded, "I suppose that's enough for us to plan and execute a recon mission-"
"I only need 2 days." Natasha interjected, throwing a pointed gaze at her Captain.
Steve's features hardened, "Wait a minute...are you saying…Oh, no. No. No. Don't even think about it."
"What? Just send me in. I can get us all the intel we need. Easy."
"No! Absolutely not. Not this time." Steve said resolutely.
Natasha stiffened.
"Why not? We need intel. And I can get us intel."
Steve hissed, "Jesus. I'm not sending you in ALONE into enemy territory. If I do that, then I might as well just shoot you where you're sitting right now."
"Are you taking me off this mission?" Natasha bristled.
"NO! I'm not against you being a part of this recon. I'm just sayin' that there are alternatives. You don't have to go in alo-"
"You and I both know that this is better off being a solo recon." Natasha cut him off, her brows raised in challenge.
Steve's tone was firm, "But think about the contingencies! This isn't your run-in-the-mill mission, this is too high-end. So, no, Nat, you ain't risking your life like this. Not on my watch. I'm sending a team with you."
"Steve, the more people you send in, the more likely it is for us to spook them. Once spooked, God knows they'd be in the wind again. Is that really what you want? Another 15 more months to track him down?"
Steve shook his head, saying nothing, knowing that she had hit the mark.
"This is the best lead we have on Rumlow for months, we can't let this go to waste." Natasha prodded again.
Steve sighed, "Nat…"
"Look, if there's anyone who can pull this off, it's me. I'm the best person for the job. I speak their language, I can blend in, talk to the locals, scout the terrain. Maybe even find out where Rumlow is hiding in Lagos-"
"Damn it, Natasha! If we're right about all of this, then Rumlow's been holed up in there for 5 months already. He knows the place, he knows the people. Hell, he's probably got eyes all over Lagos by now. Think about it, he's got MONTHS of advantage over you. Going in alone is RECKLESS."
"Aren't you forgetting who I am?" she smirked.
Steve glared at her, "Well, you see, that's just the thing, Nat. No. I haven't forgotten. Picture this. A beautiful, white, Russian woman, chatting with the locals somewhere in Lagos and IN LOCAL TONGUE. Tell me that's not gonna rouse suspicion."
Natasha's smirk widened, "I could use the Nano Mask. It'd alter my facial appearance, including skin color. And I've got the perfect accent. No one would notice."
"OR…" Steve challenged, "We could send Vision. He could go through walls, has a freaking vibranium body, and he had access to FRIDAY, and-"
Natasha shook her head disapprovingly, "Vision's got zero experience in espionage. He wouldn't be able to handle this mission."
Steve's face softened in defeat. She could tell that he was worried, it was written all over his face. Truth be told, it warmed her a little, knowing how much he cared, knowing that he valued her life over the mission.
"Take Barton with you. I'd be more comfortable if there's at least someone there watching your back. Barton's a top-class spy. He'd be able to maintain cover without tipping Rumlow off." he said finally, his toned resigned.
"Steve, I know you're worried. But you gotta greenlight this mission for me, okay? I need to infiltrate Lagos, alone. This is my forte. I can do this. Trust me. Please." she said unwaveringly.
Steve sighed, "Fine. 36 hours, Nat. And then you're out of there. We clear?"
"48."
"36. That's final. Take it or leave it."
"Deal."
"I'll call for a briefing tomorrow and let the team know." Steve said and dropped his gaze to his lap, his expression unreadable.
Natasha stood up, walked over, bent down, and planted one on his left cheek.
"Thank you for trusting me, Steve. I won't let you down."
She was headed towards the door before she felt Steve's strong grip on her wrist.
"You sure about this?"
"Yeah," she smirked, "It's gonna be fun."
Well. So, there was that. That was how they came to realize that Rumlow had been hiding somewhere in Lagos, which in turn led to her little solo recon mission.
Oh, and she totally nailed that mission, by the way. Poor bastards never stood a chance. With 5 months of advantage over her, you'd think that they'd at least give her a bit of a challenge. But pfft, by the time she completed her mission, she hadn't even brought out her A-game yet. Idiots.
What? Like she said, she was good at this shit. She knew where and how to look. If you're looking for information (like literally any non-digital information), the first place to look would be among the homeless street dwellers, of course. They'd know everything; from faces to vehicles that ever passed by the streets and even to dark trades going on in the underworld. Seriously, these guys know their shit. And most importantly, they respond well to, uh, incentives. Wouldn't take much more than a few pennies for them to start spilling their guts to you. Toss them a few more and they'd even point you to the right places. Well, that was kinda how she found out that a certain facially distorted, white, Caucasian male was spotted lurking around in the slums of Lagos. She even found out the exact location Rumlow had been hiding: it was some squalid, third-rate apartment. And voila. In less than 12 hours, she was out of there, and with all the intel they needed.
By the time she returned to the compound, she literally had to put her hand under Steve's jaw to prevent it from dropping onto the floor. Seeing the look of pure shock and awe on her dear Captain's face… Hah! That was gold (definitely worth every second spent crawling on the dirty streets of Lagos). Well, after she aced the recon, the rest was all black-ops, Steve's specialty. It was supposed to be a walk in the park. A simple extortion mission, nothing they hadn't done a hundred times before. Plus, with all the details they obtained from her recon mission and with 3 weeks' time for planning, they'd thought that it was pretty much a guaranteed success. Get in, BOLO the shit out of Rumlow and his goons, take them out while they make their move, extract Rumlow, and then lock 'em up. Voila. Easy peasy.
Well. Apparently, there was just one teeny-weeny bit of detail that had sort of slipped through her mind. Which was the fact that in their line of work, nothing was ever easy.
True enough, the mission went pear-shaped when Rumlow pulled a kamikaze on them. A fucking bomb vest. That, was all it took to turn the entire mission (all 3 goddamn weeks of intricate tactical planning) into a legitimate cluster fuck which would probably make Charlie Foxtrot proud.
Brock Rumlow. A suicide bomber. A kamikaze. Seriously. Who would've even thought of that? Not the Avengers, obviously. And certainly not the 11 relief workers who were vaporized by the bomb vest.
As in any case involving civilian casualties, people just had to find someone to blame. Actually, no, more like, people just had to put the blame on somebody other than the actual perpetrator of the crime. The next thing they knew? Newsflash, the Earth's Mightiest heroes just became the Earth's Mightiest scapegoats! Get all the juicy details for 10 bucks per copy!
And then afterwards was truly the time when shit got real. The Accords. The thing that tore the Avengers apart.
In hindsight, Natasha realized that perhaps her heart had been with Steve all along. Yes, okay, there were certain risks in signing the Accords. That much she was willing to concede. Then again, she had seen it as some sort of middle ground, a necessary compromise for the Avengers to stick together. It was the only way for them to avoid a direct confrontation with governments worldwide. Was it so wrong, if she said she just wanted to keep the Avengers together? To keep her family safe? To keep Steve safe? The Avengers were her family, her world. The team was everything she had. They were her everything. And a girl just wanted to protect her family, damn it. And at that point, the Accords truly seemed to be the only way to achieve that. At least nobody would start shooting at Steve if he played along, right? That was precisely why she had wanted, needed, Steve to sign the Accords, for his own sake, and for the team's sake.
Simply put, Natasha had sided with Tony on the Accords because she thought that it was the safer side for everyone; Tony's side was the path of least resistance, the path of safety. There was, of course, a second motive for her siding with Tony on the Accords. She thought that by allying herself with the Accords, then she just might (eventually) be able to convince Steve to hop onboard. Look, she wasn't blind, she knew just how much her opinions meant to Steve. It was pretty clear from the way Steve looked at her when she was explaining to the team about keeping one hand on the wheel and winning back the world's trust. The intense, hopeful and expectant look Steve gave her as she spoke showed just how much Steve valued her views. Somehow, during the brief time that they co-led the New Avengers, she had gotten so much closer to Steve. They had reconnected and rebuilt their friendship after Ultron. Yes, she knew that siding with Tony was a risky move, a move that could potentially obliterate Steve's trust in her, yet, she still held onto that tiny glimmer of hope that Steve would choose to stay on her side, and, as a result give the Accords more thought.
In the end, it was obvious that she had completely underestimated Steve's compulsion to do what he believed was right. Well, he was right, Natasha would give him that, but in this case, the right way was also one hell of a difficult – and dangerous – path to tread across. It was the path of most resistance, a path which would lead to devastating consequences for the Avengers. Yet, Steve didn't falter, not even in the slightest bit. Guess she really should've seen that coming, considering how Steve's obstinacy had driven her nearly insane over the years.
Nevertheless, Natasha had kept at her role as the Steve-magnet to draw him over to the path of least resistance for as long as she could. But guess what? Even the Black Widow had her limits. The look of pure agony she saw on Steve's countenance when he and Barnes confronted her at the quinjet hangar was the final straw for Natasha. That was Natasha's limit. Back at the quinjet hangar, she had witnessed, up close, something that almost everyone had thought Captain America was incapable of. It was fear. It was despair. It was the fear that he would have to fight or hurt her in order to do what was right. It was the fear that he had to choose between what was right and the person he cared about. And at that moment at the hangar, as she caught a glimpse of pure terror in Steve's eyes, Natasha realized something. She realized that she couldn't do that to Steve, she couldn't put Steve through that torture. She just couldn't. She knew how painful it was for Steve to fight her, because goddamnit, she felt the same. She understood that pain. You really think that she could bring herself to fight Steve Rogers, a man whom she respected and cared for deeply? The mere thought of hurting Steve… just… ugh.
In the end, when she finally let him through, she was rewarded with a look of pure relief and gratitude from Steve. She saw the look of trust slowly crept back onto his face. And not just any trust, it was the trust in her that she had seen returning to his face. Boy, did that feel good.
Anybody in her position would have just let Steve pass through and did nothing else. But she was never just anybody, she was the Black Widow, master of espionage. She had her own sneaky ways. The entire occurrence at the hangar had been a setup, it was all part of her plan. She had been stalling Steve and Barnes until T'Challa arrived behind them before she acted. When she shot T'Challa with her Widow's Bite, she had made both Steve and Barnes turn their heads. She then took advantage of their momentary distraction and shot a couple of tracking devices onto Steve's left boot. The devices were tiny, perhaps only about the size of a grain of rice. They were older tracking devices models that she had used back in her SHIELD days. Unfortunately, she couldn't access Steve's location right away because the devices' location data were encrypted in such a way that was only accessible through an obsolete tracking software that she had written years ago for SHIELD – which she had no immediate access to. Any hopes of knowing Steve's whereabouts would have to wait until Coulson provides her with the necessary tools.
Indeed, Natasha could have planted the latest, state-of-the-art Avengers-issued tracking devices on Steve, which would have granted her instant access to Steve's location. However, the master-spy within her knew better than to make that mistake. The thing about these newer models of tracking devices was that she wasn't the only person who had access to the GPS data they emit. Ross, the task force, and Tony; all of them could tap into Steve's location had she planted the latest model of tracking devices onto Steve. Under normal circumstances, that would have been favorable. However, given recent happenings, she highly doubted that Ross' task force would be there to serve as Steve's back-up. For all she knew, leading the task force to Steve's location would only paint more targets on his back.
For half an hour, Natasha navigated her car cautiously through the highway, constantly paying attention to see if she was tailed. She had passed by 3 or 4 cars, though none of them gave her any trouble thus far. She had even cranked up her car's audio system to the max just so she could maintain her cover as a crazy, excited blonde on a solo escapade to god-knows-where. Soon, Natasha spotted an exit that she knew would lead her to a secret passageway to Clint's farm. Taking the exit, she made a swift right turn. She followed the exit for another stretch until the scenery changed from flat lands to thick forests.
At the change of scenery, Natasha pressed lightly on the brakes, slowing her car down.
Time to focus, where is the mark?
For a few seconds, she squinted and glanced hard to locate the special mark.
There.
It was a mark of a bow and arrow placed on one of the tree trunks. She took a swift glance at her rearview mirror and saw that there were no cars behind her. Perfect. Wasting no time, she stopped her car beside the marked tree and stared at the mark. A second later, the trees parted and a tunnel (an underpass to be exact) appeared. She checked her rearview mirror again before pulling into the secret passageway.
Her usual mode of transportations to Clint's farm were quinjets. Taking quinjets would undoubtedly be easier and safer. However, Hawkeye had insisted upon having this secret passageway constructed just in case of an emergency, so Fury made it happen – off the records, obviously. The only way for the special mark on the tree to be visible was through special contact lenses (the ones she had donned while she back at the compound's garage) owned only by specific people: namely, the Barton family, Fury, a few members of Coulson's team, Coulson, and Natasha herself. Hidden within the trunk of the marked tree was a special retinal scanner which only greenlights the aforementioned people.
The underpass was a 15-minute drive. It was an underground tunnel, with a diameter equivalent to the width of 2 standard SUVs. At the other end of the tunnel, lay a secret uphill path leading towards the farm. The moment her Corvette emerged from the other end of the tunnel, Natasha was confronted by a breathtaking scenery of tall and majestic trees on both sides of the path. Hawkeye's planning of the secret route was nothing but ingenious. The road was a narrow, uphill gravel path, surrounded by the thick layers of forest, hence keeping it obscured from anyone viewing from above. From above, the gravel path was completely blocked from view by the thick canopies of the forest. Fury had also ensured that the entire terrain (all the way until Clint's farm) remain outside any satellite coverage; meaning, the entire area was deliberately made to not appear on any satellite imaging data. It was therefore unlikely for anyone on the planet (other than the intended people) to have any access or knowledge to the existence of the entire region.
At the sight of the familiar terrain around her, Natasha felt the strain of the day slowly leave her body. Her mood, however, took a melancholic turn as she drove slowly uphill on the serpentine gravel path. She thought about the previous times she had to go on the run, and realized that it was 2 years ago, together with Steve, when they were headed to New Jersey on a pick-up truck. Then she thought back to DC; during the time she helped Steve take down HYDRA. She remembered distinctly her intimate conversation with Steve at Sam's apartment. How could she not? It was one of the very few times she felt…trusted, and by somebody as good and honorable as Steve Rogers. It was a memory that she would cherish for as long as she lived.
"I owe you."
"It's okay." Steve replied with a light shake of his head. A weak smile forming on his handsome features.
"If it was the other way around…and if it was down to me to save your life, now you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?" Natasha asked, her eyes shining in anticipation of Steve's answer.
"I would now."
As she replayed their conversation in her mind over and over again, the layers of trust shrouded behind Steve's words sank in. Steve Rogers trusted her. Her. At that thought, Natasha was instantly rewarded with a much needed surge in morale. Having Steve's trust felt… comforting. It reminded her that she was still capable of some good in this world. It made her feel strong, powerful, and virtuous. It gave her hope.
A smirk slowly formed on Natasha's lips as another realization hit her.
That's what Captain America is really capable of. Inspiring people anywhere and anytime, even in spirit, so it seems. She thought to herself.
As amusing as the thought sounded in her head, Natasha couldn't help but feel the undeniable truth behind it. There was World War 2, where Steve went from being a 'dancing monkey' promoting war bonds to the great commander who led the assault that took down the notorious Red Skull. And then, there was also that impressive battle speech he gave during the Insight Helicarriers' launch. That speech more than inspired a substantial number of loyal SHIELD agents to take a stand against HYDRA. Though the most prominent proof of all, in Natasha's opinion, had to be the Battle of New York, during the Chitauri invasion. How Steve had managed back then to get (A) a genius billionaire, (B) a Prince from Asgard and (C) a green rage monster (basically a couple of guys with massive egos) to follow his command in such a short timeframe still remained a mystery to Natasha, even after all these years; what about the fact that these guys had barely known each other for a day, and yet Steve had somehow gotten all of them to function as a coherent unit? Oh, and let's not forget the fact that at the time, Steve had just recovered from being frozen in ice for nearly 70 years. If that was the same guy who claimed to trust her with his life, then there would be no chance in hell that she was gonna let him down. Damn right, Steve trusted her with his life. She'd be damned if she allowed anything to happen to him. She'd get Steve the help he needed, save his ass, or at least, she knew damn well that she would die trying.
Steve, hang in there. Please. I'm gonna find you. Natasha silently pleaded.
With her newfound resolve, Natasha stepped harder on the accelerator, thrusting her Corvette forward through the gravel path.
