Chapter Twelve

Intervention

Natasha didn't have the time to figure out any six-digit entry code. She instead held up a small explosive disk in front of the door's lock. The disk, with its powerful magnet, jumped out of her fingers and latched itself in place. The miniature shaped charge inside the device would direct most of its destructive energy into the lock. Most of it.

Familiar with its capabilities, Natasha turned around to walk several paces out of the danger zone.

That also brought her a bit further away from the blaring emergency alarm mounted over the armored door. Just like every other alarm in the base, it was blasting the same repetitive and deafening noise. The sound was intolerable, but worst of all it could mask the approach of her enemies.

As she came to a stop, Natasha kept her finger just off the trigger of the Glock 17 she had taken. The full-size pistol felt awkward in her small hands but she was more than ready to use it again.

She half expected to see another squad of men storming into the hallway after her. They didn't come though. All she saw was the bodies of the two guards she had shot on the way in.

Her bomb went off, and she immediately ran back to open the heavy metal door with a jumping front kick.

The door swung away to reveal a corridor wider than the one she was in. Natasha could see a half dozen prison cells on each side before the hallway curved off to the right.

She's gotta be here. Natasha checked behind one last time before she entered the prison area to see if that was true.

Each cell housed a pair of girls. Some of the captives sat still in their cells, cautiously watching Natasha as she walked by. Others reached through the bars as they called out to her in English, French, Russian, and Chinese, as well as in other languages she didn't know. The girls were a diverse group, representing every continent on Earth. All of them were so different, but their fear was all the same.

"I'm here to help!" Natasha said. She looked around, hoping to find a girl matching Sanjana's description. No such luck. "Are there any more of you in here?"

"There was a big girl."

Natasha turned and saw that the reply had come from a short Middle Eastern girl who appeared to be about thirteen or fourteen years old. "Big" to her could be seventeen, which was how old Sanjana was supposed to be.

"Was she Indian?"

The girl nodded.

"What was her name? Was it Sanjana?" Natasha knew better than to ask a leading question. When frightened or under stress, most people were likely to say yes to anything you threw at them. It was better to get a pure, unfiltered answer. Natasha had to come too far though to hear anything else.

"Yes...They took her yesterday."

"Where? Where did they take her?"

The girl pointed down the hall. "Downstairs."

"Thank you," Natasha said. She turned to go but stopped after just two steps. "Don't worry," she said to the girl. She turned around completely to reassure the rest of the captives. "I'll be right back. I'll come and get you all."

Natasha knew how hollow her words must have sounded as she ran and disappeared from their sight. If she could, she would have freed them all right then and there. The base was still crawling with Hydra though, and she still hadn't found a good escape route yet. Natasha hated to leave the girls in their prison cells, but for now, that was the safest place for them to be.

The hallway led to a dark staircase that only spiraled down from there. As she went down, Natasha wondered just how deep it would go.

After descending a few dozen feet, she finally reached another hallway. A security camera was waiting for her there. Mounted on the wall, it was tilted so that it could watch her as she proceeded down the hall.

They know I'm here. Natasha fired a single bullet into the camera to keep them from knowing anything more. Not that it would buy her much time though.

She proceeded into the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Its walls were made of stone blocks, many of which were cracked. Parts of some blocks had even crumbled away onto the floor, leaving shallow craters in their place. The area she was in didn't look much better than the tunnels of the catacombs. Judging from how dark and quiet it was, Natasha guessed that few people ever went down there.

It was the perfect place to isolate people. Or to ambush them, Natasha thought as she stopped herself near a turn. Leaning against the wall, she listened for a few seconds before she swung around with her gun raised in front of her. No one. Good.

It was cluttered in that section of the hallway though, suggesting that something was going on over there. An empty shelf cart stood on one side of the hall next to a stack of metal storage boxes. Right across the hall from those things was an old rusted door.

Natasha leaned against the wall next to that door. Reaching over, she tested its handle. Locked.

Swift, violent action was the only way to go in. Natasha took out another door breaching charge, activating it before she set it in place. She then turned away but stayed as close as she could. The explosive went off three seconds later.

She yanked the door open not a moment after. Wall to the right, she noted as she stepped inside. Natasha didn't wait to turn left. She did so just in time to see a wooden chair swinging down at her.

Sidestepping, she heard the chair splintering against the wall behind her. Her attacker was already within arm's reach. Natasha lashed out with a quick chop to his neck. The man cried out as he stumbled back.

Before he could recover, she struck his forehead with the base of her pistol grip. He flopped onto the floor like a heavy sack of flour.

Doesn't look like much, Natasha thought as she studied her unconscious opponent. The man had a boyish face that his stubble couldn't conceal. Natasha guessed that he was in his early-thirties at the very most. He wore thick glasses, and his build was slight but also flabby. He didn't look at all like the tough guy agents she had fought upstairs. More like someone who belonged in a lab.

"What were you doing down here?" Natasha whispered. Slowly, she turned her head to see what was in the room.

A computer sat on the table against the closest wall. It was on, and its monitor was split into several screens that showed various rooms and hallways in the facility. Security camera footage. The screen in the bottom right had gone black. That was probably how he had seen her coming.

Glass jars filled with various colored fluids were also on the table. A few syringes lay nearby, suggesting that the chemicals in the jars were intended for human use.

Natasha kept turning, past the table and the pile of cardboard boxes in the corner. She felt an unusual familiarity with the place even before she saw the video projector on the ceiling and the movie screen on the far wall.

A chair was bolted to the floor in front of that movie screen, with a dark haired girl strapped into it.

Sanjana?

Natasha should have been happier. Instead, she stood frozen for several seconds as she felt a wave of unwelcome emotions flooding into her mind. This looked just like the old indoctrination center at the heart of the Red Room.

Her memories of that place were hazy since she had rarely been there in a clear state of mind. They were still powerful though. Overwhelming. Somehow more real than real.

Natasha could feel the straps around her own arms and legs again. The strain on her wrists as she struggled against her restraints. The way her mentor caressed her shoulder, right before he ordered the needles to be driven into her body.

What are you doing to me?

We're giving you some performance enhancers to help you learn. They're perfectly safe...Trust me, Natasha. This will be for your own good...

Shuddering, she found herself snapping back into the present.

Get her out, she told herself. She doesn't deserve this.

Tense, haunting music began to play, as white letters appeared against a black background on the screen. "You don't deserve this." It was a coincidence, but an eerie one. Almost like the screen was personally addressing them.

"The world is a cruel place." The music took on a quicker pace, and it grew louder and more aggressive as the screen began to display graphic video clips of impoverished girls being beaten and abused in war torn nations. "Chaotic and unfair." The clips kept coming, and they were soon spliced with footage of wealthy businessmen and world leaders enjoying their lives of luxury.

Willing herself forward, Natasha continued to watch the movie screen as she closed in on the girl. The video was as gripping as it was revolting.

"But those who are strong enough...Can take power for themselves...Challenge the world...Rise above...and alter the course of history."

These were textbook persuasive techniques, used by everyone from intelligence agencies to backwoods cults. Natasha recognized them all by now.

Hook people by showing sympathy for their personal plight. Give them enemies to blame and direct their rage against. The more the better. Anything under the sun would do. Then empower your audience by praising them and giving them something to belong to. Tell them that they really can have what they want – just by falling in line with the group.

Natasha remembered the patriotic Russian iconography she had been exposed to. The Heroes of the Soviet Union that had been her role models.

She now saw instead the skull and all-encompassing tentacles of the Hydra emblem. Pictures of the Red Skull, Arnim Zola, Alexander Pierce, and finally...herself.

"Cut off one head," the screen displayed. "Two more shall take its place." It changed to show videos of young girls exercising, sparring, and training with firearms. "HAIL HYDRA."

Natasha wanted to shoot the damn screen but she didn't exactly have a lot of bullets to waste.

"Don't listen to them," she said as she stepped in front of the girl, trying to block out the screen with her own body. "They're just using you."

Looking down, she saw that the girl had Indian features. That she was an older teenager on the verge of adulthood. So far, everything was lining up with what little she knew about Sanjana. Natasha leaned in to check for a scar on the back of the girl's neck, still expecting to have her hopes dashed at the last moment. Please be there...

It was. Pausing, she exhaled in relief.

Now she just had to get the girl, along with everyone else in the prison, out of there alive. Easier said than done.

She leaned back and looked Sanjana in the eye. "Listen. My name is Natasha. I'm a friend of your sister's."

Sanjana didn't respond. She just kept staring forward with a blank expression on her face.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? But you've gotta work with me."

Her words weren't getting through. Natasha holstered her gun and began to untie the straps around Sanjana's arms.

"Please, Sanjana...I know you're in there. Whatever they did to you, you can fight it."

Natasha knew that was a load of crap. No one was strong enough to fight the drugs and brainwashing. She sure as hell hadn't been.

Breaking free was a gradual process. The result of truth seeping into a subject's mind during the long gaps of time when she was working in the field. When she was living and working among other people, other points of view. Only in the absence propaganda and regular indoctrination could reality ever take hold.

I don't stand a chance in here, Natasha admitted to herself. It was stupid to think that she could ever wake this girl from her trance. Natasha kept trying though, hoping against all hope. She understood quite well though that time was slipping away. Looking at the computer monitor again, she saw that her enemies were preparing to come for her again.

Reeves was standing near a staircase with four other men. Each of them was armed with an M4 carbine. The dark and decrepit corridor they were in appeared quite similar to the hallway outside the indoctrination room. It probably wasn't very far away.

The squad waited there until a sixth man came down the stairs with a pistol in hand. Reeves pointed at him and screamed something, before he motioned for everyone to follow him down the hall.

Damn it, Natasha thought. She glanced down at Sanjana, before she drew her gun and ran to the side of the room. There, she stood facing the doorway while keeping an eye on the monitor.

Strangely, the sixth man didn't follow the rest of the squad. He just stood still until Reeves turned around and yelled at him again.

Then he raised his gun and shot each of the foot soldiers in quick succession.

"What the hell," Natasha whispered.

The look on Reeves's face said the same thing. He glanced at his fallen troops, wasting precious moments before he finally lifted his assault rifle.

By then it was too late. The man closed the gap between them, simultaneously disarming Reeves as he seized him by the throat. Turning around, he slammed Reeves against the wall and lifted him up off the floor.

Reeves was no small man himself, but he looked utterly frail and helpless next to his assailant. Unable to escape the man's grasp, he kicked his legs several times before he suddenly fell still.

The man dropped him and casually reloaded his gun before proceeding out of the camera's sight.

He's coming.

Natasha's attackers may have dropped from six to one in the course of twenty seconds, but she now felt even less sure of herself than before. The speed, strength, and ruthless precision of that man...Few people could murder a former Green Beret with such ease. Natasha didn't look forward to seeing this guy actually break a sweat.

Kill him right away. As soon as he comes in.

That idea was very tempting, but Natasha knew that it wasn't the best course of action. It was short-term thinking. Any survival advantage it provided would be negated by the loss of information. Something had caused this man to betray Reeves and Hydra. Natasha had to find out what it was.

The best way to do that was to allow him to come into the room before revealing herself to him from behind. That would leave her the most options with which to work with.

She turned around and ran behind the pile of boxes in the corner. Crouching down, she stifled her breathing and peeked through a small gap between the boxes. The music from the video was still going, making it hard for her to calm herself as she awaited the man's arrival.

He finally came in with his handgun raised in a firing position. He was dressed entirely in black but not in any SHIELD uniform. Instead, he was wearing slacks and a turtleneck shirt that hugged him tightly enough to show off his toned body. At well over six feet tall, he had an imposing physical presence.

Swinging left, he stopped and stared at the boxes for a moment. Natasha crouched even lower, trying not to be seen. Adjusting her feet, she prepared herself to spring out from there if he said anything or began to fire.

To her relief, he began to walk further into the room. Looking out again, Natasha could see him inspecting Sanjana. He didn't speak to her. All he did was shake her shoulder before he checked her pulse.

Sanjana stirred for the first time since Natasha had entered the room. It looked like she was finally regaining some of her faculties. One of which might be her ability to speak...

Now. Before he turns around. "Stop right there," Natasha said as she stepped out from her hiding spot. Setting her gun sights squarely in the middle of the man's back, she walked sideways into the middle of the room. "Drop the gun."

The man stayed still, but he also chuckled and held on to his weapon. "I was afraid you would get away."

German accent, Natasha noted. She was intrigued, and she wanted another look at his face. "Drop it."

"Sure. Right after I'm done with you." He swung around and took aim.

Natasha let loose into his chest. Senseless, she thought as she pulled away at her trigger.

Flailing his arms, the man lost his weapon and spun toward the floor.

Amazingly, he landed on one knee. He took three slow breaths, before he looked up and smiled at her.

He didn't have to explain because the orange glow on his face said it all.

Extremis. She was so dead...

To be continued in Chapter 12: Fight or Flight