The Past Never Dies Quietly
By Didi
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and don't know anyone that does. Suing me will probably get you the 38 cents in my pocket now and nothing more than that.
Summary: Tasha takes steps to confirm a rumor.
Note: Okay, I knew that it was a bad idea to start a new fan fiction when there are other ones that I haven't finished yet. Can't devote enough time to any one exclusively. (sigh)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Three
The Russian winter can probably be easily described by one phrase: freezing your ass off cold, and that would be only during the milder phases of the season. If you were outdoors without at least four layers of clothes on, you would be considered completely insane and possibly jailed in a cold cell somewhere for your own good.
Tasha was sure had Val been around, she would be walking around in her pink snow bunny outfit that attracting enough attention to get herself killed. But while Tasha didn't flaunt beauty with flashy clothes, she certainly didn't take any extra effort to dress as anything other than herself. The gray sweater over white turtleneck was functional but attractive; the long black coat was stylish but also concealed the array of weaponry she had chosen to carry with her as she made her way out of Moscow in the little car she had rented.
The puttering of the old rental made her wish that Nikki was there to rip out the engine and rework it into something more…. Something that no longer gave her the feeling that it was going to die on her any second as she drove the eight miles to the old industrial zone.
The town of Stolanki was one that has long sense seen its glory days. During the time of U.S.S.R., it had been a place where the large steel mills had operated due to the open area and the working mills for hydro- energy. Back then, Stolanki supplied Moscow with all the power and cold war machinery it needed. Now, it's just a broken old town, with death and ghosts of a glory long passed hanging in every shadow.
The fire must have been intense. The paint had been melted off the billboards a mile from the actual site. All along the road, death reeked in the worse possible ways with dying trees and iced over bits of smothered grass. Even now, after nearly a full month since the blaze, the area still smelled of smoke and ash.
Climbing from the car, Tasha schooled her unreadable features as she pulled her coat closer. It could be her imagination but it suddenly felt as if the temperature dropped by ten degrees. Picking her ways slowly through where the fire trucks no doubt was parked and stayed through most of the night, she noted the scorched marks that lined the upper walls of the three story building that was once one of the many large monuments to Russia's break into the industrialized nations' arms race.
Her eyes watered as the acidic air hit her full in the face as she cross the threshold of the building's corpse. She knew the dangers of entering such a death trap as she picked her way through the rubbles, hoping beyond hope for anything that could give her a clue as to what actually happened. But all signs so far has pointed to the fact that anyone in this building when it ignited must have either suffocated or died in the initial burst of heat so intense as to melt the flesh from the bones.
A flash of terrifying possibilities crossed her mind as images of a burning body invaded her thoughts. Clamping down the sudden rational fear, she forced herself to concentrate on the mission. *Just don't think of him as anything other than a target you have to identify and locate. That's all he is to you. A target.*
The lie stayed in place for all of ten seconds before she is scrambling around, looking for any possible exits that could have existed, giving him a chance, just a slight chance of getting out alive. *God, please just give me something, anything!*
Choking on the flying ash and dust, she stopped and moved away from the wreck. Taking in deep breath and trying to calm her racing heart, she braced herself. *Rational, Tasha. Think rationally like an agent and not like some love-sick girl trying to find her boyfriend!* She checked herself. *Trying to find her husband.*
Taking in another deep breath, she began to take in the scene before her with a clearer mind. *Look for all the possibilities. Don't dismiss anything out of hand. Give impossible scenarios and make them work.*
*The only way one can escape an inferno of this magnitude was to get to where the smoke and heat would be the least dangerous.* She nodded as she thought it over. The lowest area first floor unless…. She began to kick the debris away. *Unless there was a basement or underground…. Yes. This was a Russia industrial base, they would have contingency plans for escape routes.*
It took three hours of meticulously searching every area on the first place, but in the end, it all paid off beautifully. Using the edge of her stainless still switch blade that she has habitually kept in her boots, she lifted the edge of the trap door, careful not to disturb too much of the ash and caked soot that covered the area. Just under six feet high and a little more than three feet wide, it was a small but useful tunnel.
Tasha hesitated for a moment before dropping into the dark space that possibly once harbored Nazi criminals, or maybe it was Jewish escapees. The mini mag-lite did little to illuminate the place but was adequate for her purposes.
The heavy stanch made her eyes water painfully and she could only pray that that this was not to be a long passage. After ten minutes of carefully picking her way through the channel, the air suddenly became clearer, fresher, as if…. As if the great open air merely around the corner.
Feeling the walls with her hand, she found the corner not three steps later and the end of the tunnel that led to the back woods behind the great complex.
*Peter, you lucky son of a bitch!* The exhilaration left her breathless. If she could find this hole in the ground, than so could that sly ex- husband of hers. There was no doubt in her mind that the Owl was the resourcefulness under pressure to look for something so obvious. *The man should have been code named the Cat. He's got more lives that I can keep track of.*
Returning from the topside, Tasha was careful to cover her tracks, making sure nothing looked obviously disturbed by human hands. She must not forget that there are still those out there that would pay a hefty price to get their hands on The Owl. With the rumors of his death still standing solid and her being the only one that suspected anything otherwise… There's still a chance.
But where would he go after he left here?
By Didi
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and don't know anyone that does. Suing me will probably get you the 38 cents in my pocket now and nothing more than that.
Summary: Tasha takes steps to confirm a rumor.
Note: Okay, I knew that it was a bad idea to start a new fan fiction when there are other ones that I haven't finished yet. Can't devote enough time to any one exclusively. (sigh)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Three
The Russian winter can probably be easily described by one phrase: freezing your ass off cold, and that would be only during the milder phases of the season. If you were outdoors without at least four layers of clothes on, you would be considered completely insane and possibly jailed in a cold cell somewhere for your own good.
Tasha was sure had Val been around, she would be walking around in her pink snow bunny outfit that attracting enough attention to get herself killed. But while Tasha didn't flaunt beauty with flashy clothes, she certainly didn't take any extra effort to dress as anything other than herself. The gray sweater over white turtleneck was functional but attractive; the long black coat was stylish but also concealed the array of weaponry she had chosen to carry with her as she made her way out of Moscow in the little car she had rented.
The puttering of the old rental made her wish that Nikki was there to rip out the engine and rework it into something more…. Something that no longer gave her the feeling that it was going to die on her any second as she drove the eight miles to the old industrial zone.
The town of Stolanki was one that has long sense seen its glory days. During the time of U.S.S.R., it had been a place where the large steel mills had operated due to the open area and the working mills for hydro- energy. Back then, Stolanki supplied Moscow with all the power and cold war machinery it needed. Now, it's just a broken old town, with death and ghosts of a glory long passed hanging in every shadow.
The fire must have been intense. The paint had been melted off the billboards a mile from the actual site. All along the road, death reeked in the worse possible ways with dying trees and iced over bits of smothered grass. Even now, after nearly a full month since the blaze, the area still smelled of smoke and ash.
Climbing from the car, Tasha schooled her unreadable features as she pulled her coat closer. It could be her imagination but it suddenly felt as if the temperature dropped by ten degrees. Picking her ways slowly through where the fire trucks no doubt was parked and stayed through most of the night, she noted the scorched marks that lined the upper walls of the three story building that was once one of the many large monuments to Russia's break into the industrialized nations' arms race.
Her eyes watered as the acidic air hit her full in the face as she cross the threshold of the building's corpse. She knew the dangers of entering such a death trap as she picked her way through the rubbles, hoping beyond hope for anything that could give her a clue as to what actually happened. But all signs so far has pointed to the fact that anyone in this building when it ignited must have either suffocated or died in the initial burst of heat so intense as to melt the flesh from the bones.
A flash of terrifying possibilities crossed her mind as images of a burning body invaded her thoughts. Clamping down the sudden rational fear, she forced herself to concentrate on the mission. *Just don't think of him as anything other than a target you have to identify and locate. That's all he is to you. A target.*
The lie stayed in place for all of ten seconds before she is scrambling around, looking for any possible exits that could have existed, giving him a chance, just a slight chance of getting out alive. *God, please just give me something, anything!*
Choking on the flying ash and dust, she stopped and moved away from the wreck. Taking in deep breath and trying to calm her racing heart, she braced herself. *Rational, Tasha. Think rationally like an agent and not like some love-sick girl trying to find her boyfriend!* She checked herself. *Trying to find her husband.*
Taking in another deep breath, she began to take in the scene before her with a clearer mind. *Look for all the possibilities. Don't dismiss anything out of hand. Give impossible scenarios and make them work.*
*The only way one can escape an inferno of this magnitude was to get to where the smoke and heat would be the least dangerous.* She nodded as she thought it over. The lowest area first floor unless…. She began to kick the debris away. *Unless there was a basement or underground…. Yes. This was a Russia industrial base, they would have contingency plans for escape routes.*
It took three hours of meticulously searching every area on the first place, but in the end, it all paid off beautifully. Using the edge of her stainless still switch blade that she has habitually kept in her boots, she lifted the edge of the trap door, careful not to disturb too much of the ash and caked soot that covered the area. Just under six feet high and a little more than three feet wide, it was a small but useful tunnel.
Tasha hesitated for a moment before dropping into the dark space that possibly once harbored Nazi criminals, or maybe it was Jewish escapees. The mini mag-lite did little to illuminate the place but was adequate for her purposes.
The heavy stanch made her eyes water painfully and she could only pray that that this was not to be a long passage. After ten minutes of carefully picking her way through the channel, the air suddenly became clearer, fresher, as if…. As if the great open air merely around the corner.
Feeling the walls with her hand, she found the corner not three steps later and the end of the tunnel that led to the back woods behind the great complex.
*Peter, you lucky son of a bitch!* The exhilaration left her breathless. If she could find this hole in the ground, than so could that sly ex- husband of hers. There was no doubt in her mind that the Owl was the resourcefulness under pressure to look for something so obvious. *The man should have been code named the Cat. He's got more lives that I can keep track of.*
Returning from the topside, Tasha was careful to cover her tracks, making sure nothing looked obviously disturbed by human hands. She must not forget that there are still those out there that would pay a hefty price to get their hands on The Owl. With the rumors of his death still standing solid and her being the only one that suspected anything otherwise… There's still a chance.
But where would he go after he left here?