A little more than a week until AoU...just sayin'. :D

[Personal Log:
Location: Russia
16 June 2014
13:17
2 Months After the HYDRA Uprising] _

Three days later, when my food had officially run out, the train slowed to a stop again. Little by little, the ear-splitting, headache-inducing ambient noise receded, leaving behind a blessed silence soon broken by my ears ringing profusely. It was a minute before I could detect voices, so I crouched in the corner of the boxcar, on the side of the large metal door. It slid open with a loud grating sound and the burst of sunlight just missed me. Two men boarded, taking the last of the crates with them. I leapt out as soon as their backs were turned, spinning and plunging myself beneath the car. Gravel scratched my wrists and legs and dug into my chin as my head bounced against one of the rails. I held still with my body flat and one knee dug into the ground until I watched their tennis shoes move away, and then I slipped out the other side and found myself in a small train depot. I slipped out the side door, snuck onto the back of a delivery truck, and was on my way into the city.

Once we were on a main city street full of people I jumped off and onto the sidewalk, my barrel roll ending in smashing into a trash can. With a nasty bruise to add to my collection of half-healed hurts, I tried my best to blend into the crowds on the sidewalk. Following the street signs—which were odd to see in Russian—I soon learned that I was in Volga. As far as I could remember, it was on neither the list of cities with S.H.I.E.L.D. bases that I'd had to learn for my Operations class on Russian Language and Culture nor on the list of cities with U.S. Embassies I'd learned for the Countries and Cities class for Communications to become an analyst. But it did, as I soon located, have an ATM machine sticking out of the side of a building. Trying not to look at the massive fees they were charging me for converting my American dollars into rubles, I extracted enough to get by and located a nearby café for some food and a place to sit. At a table by myself, I took off the parachute pack and leaned it on the ground up against my leg. I wasn't letting it out of my sight, and I needed my cell phone out of it. It was dead.

Next I pulled out Victoria's 4S, one of the items I'd salvaged off her body. Also out of battery. A month plus in the wilderness had taken its toll on my electronics, even if they'd been turned off. Annoyed, I contemplated my options as I awaited my drink and pastry. I could find an Apple store and requisition one of their charging cords for the display models. Problem was, I had no one to call. My first thought was still Victoria, and she was dead. Then Anna, Daniel, and Cam, but I hadn't seen Sabrina or Daniel since the Academy of Operations, over six years ago. Grant Ward's betrayal had sobered me to the fact that a lot could change in six years, and people don't always turn out the way you thought they would. No, what I needed were the contacts on Victoria Hand's phone—perhaps Agent Coulson or...or Melinda May. The Apple store wouldn't have the old power connectors attached, just the new ones, the Lightning Adapters that wouldn't work with Victoria's 4S.

Once I'd finished my meal, I continued down the street looking for an electronics store. Upon finding one, I ducked in and bought a knockoff cable and a wall charger. With those safely stowed away in my pack, I checked into a slightly decrepit-looking hotel under the name Ekaterina Denisov and paying cash in advance for a two-night stay.

The floorboards creaked and the room smelled musty, but the bed seemed clean enough and the bathroom ran clean water. I dropped my pack on my bed and plugged Victoria's phone into the wall. After a few minutes the Apple logo lit up the screen, and then it asked for a password. I knew it, and it let me in.

Sixteen missed calls from Maria Hill. Two from Coulson. Three from an unknown number.

I went straight for the contacts, sitting on the ground so that I would have enough cable length to bring it up to my ear when the time came. A, B, C, Coulson. He was in there. I tapped his name and then his number and listened for the sound of it ringing. "The director's phone, Hartley speaking," came a female voice on the other end after three or four rings. I ended the call. Not Coulson, probably some company's phone or something. I returned to the contacts list and scrolled downward to Maria Hill.

"Victoria?" Agent Hill answered, sounding relieved. "Victoria, is that you?"

"No, I'm sorry," I told her.

Hill immediately turned hostile. "Then who are you and how did you get her phone?"

"My name is Agent Aleksandra Chaev, and she was my SO. I was on the plane transporting John Garrett to the Fridge."

"Then where's Victoria?"

"Grant Ward shot her. He's HYDRA."

Hill was silent on the other end for a minute. "Why did it take you this long to contact me?"

"Because I jumped out of the jet with a parachute. I was shot on the way down, and cell reception is bad around the Fridge," I told her impatiently.

"Where are you now?" Hill asked.

"Volga, Russia. All I have for identification is my S.H.I.E.L.D. ID, and I figured with HYDRA infiltrations left and right it wouldn't be good to flash that around. They think I'm dead, and I'd like it to stay that way until I'm at least safe back in the States."

"You're right that it's not safe to be flashing your badge around, but not for the reason you think," Hill sighed. "The world's governments aren't exactly friendly with S.H.I.E.L.D. right now. They're one step away from branding it a terrorist organization." She paused. "A lot has changed since April. S.H.I.E.L.D., in any official capacity, has ceased to exist, and I am no longer associated with it in the eyes of the world. But since when does the world ever know the truth about everything that's going on? You seem to have answers that could fill in a lot of holes we've had in the last couple months." She sounded tired, resigned. "I work in the private sector now. Stark hates it when I do this, but there's a Stark Industries jet about to fly back from Moscow that can pick you up, no questions asked. It'll land in New Brunswick, and there I'll have a car waiting to take you to Stark Tower."

"When will the plane arrive?"

"I'm contacting the pilot now. It should be within the hour. They'll be touching down for as short a time as possible to keep up with they timetable, so you'll need to be ready to go. There's an small, private airfield north of Volga; you'll want to head there."

"How will I recognize it?"

Maria snorted. "It'll be the boulder amid pebbles with STARK INDUSTRIES emblazoned across the tail end. Tony doesn't believe in doing things small. Or subtle."

"Got it. Thank you for the assistance, Agent Hill."

"I'm sorry, I missed your name."

"Aleksandra Chaev," I told her.

"Have a safe flight, Agent Chaev," she replied. "I'll see you in a few hours."

I clicked end, setting the phone down. I was going home.