I don't own Marvel. Thanks for the reads and reviews are like candy. - R
Steve was leaning on the kitchen island and Natasha was pacing across the carpeted floors of Fury's living room. The director was the only one sitting down. The pair didn't know how to handle the terrible news he just broke to them.
"How did it happen?" Natasha asked, stopping for a second to ask him the question, then went back to pacing.
Fury was silent. "I don't know," he said. And that was the first time the spy ever saw him confused or disheveled. He was genuinely frustrated and baffled at his own lack of conscientiousness.
S.H.I.E.L.D. was infiltrated with a pro-war movement. Russian collusion made its way up the ranks and many agents have been compromised. Fury didn't know to what extent, but he was at a point where he couldn't trust anyone. They were after Natasha, but they didn't know why. Maybe those that were a part of the pro-war movement didn't like that she was a part of the department and put a bounty on her. One concrete thing, though, was that they were definitely after her. It was solid to Steve considering that he had heard one of them explicitly say that the widow must be killed. "They wanted you to look like a casualty back in New York headquarters. But they were targeting you and killed may others to make it look like you were just another one of the bodies."
Natasha stopped pacing. Perhaps Fury could've worded it better, but Steve realized how hard that was to hear for the agent. He knows her enough to think that she probably thinks that all of these men died because of her. She was the one person they were looking for and they killed everyone who was virtually in front of her. Her long history of trying to erase every assassination from her hands had brought her full-circle into this moment, the realization that she will never be able to get away from it.
He was about to talk when something interesting in the television caught his eye. Fury took the remote and turned up the volume. "Following the events of last week's attack on a covert government base in New York City, the men in suits and red ties, who many believe are Russian operatives, have struck again inside all working stations of the Metropolitan Police Department in Washington D.C. The building called the Triskelion has also been terrorized. The current death toll is listed at least at 563, many of them being government officials. The public perceived this as an attack on the current President of the United States, considering that he was at the Triskelion to follow a meeting, but Mr. President and the First Lady were luckily escorted out before the attack commenced."
Natasha plopped on the couch and sunk into it as deep as she could. This didn't seem like news to Fury, because he already pictured it happening. "I saw the councilmen evacuating and told as many of the agents I trusted to go home for the day," he said quietly.
"Who's behind this?" Steve asked.
"It's a neo-Soviet operation," Natasha whispered. Fury didn't interrupt, letting the soldier know that she was correct. The spy gathered herself to talk despite the emotional hardship she was facing. "Before I defected, we underwent these missions. A lot of villages in Terijoki, Leningrad and some territories by the Gulf of Finland were terrorized in order to build a new Communist republic. They were destroyed because they disagreed, and it all went under the radar. I-" she stuttered. "I, along with other KGB and Red Room agents took them out. We wiped these villages from the map like they never existed; we killed fathers and their children even if they surrendered. This was all done quietly and no one knew, until the word got out and there was mass unrest. That led to even more people dying. Those who protested on the streets were…they were bombed."
"But this is different. They're letting everyone see," Steve said.
"Yeah, but they're doing that for a purpose. It's so our people hold grudges against our own government and theirs."
Fury started talking again. "Rogers," he said. "You're a soldier." He waited for the man to nod before continuing. "What starts a war?"
"Countries fighting for power," Steve responded.
"And Russia wants power," Natasha said as she stood up to grab her gauntlets.
"That still doesn't explain why they were after Nat."
"You both will figure that out," said the director. "I need you two to go back to New York. I have Agent Hill on the streets trying to find where they're hiding. I got a tip from her this morning that they're in a Manhattan warehouse. I need you both to check it out." The pair was hitching their instruments onto themselves as Fury gave them the instructions. "And for god's sake, use a car." He said as he tossed them keys to his Rolls Royce.
"I'm driving," said the spy. The soldier didn't really care for it and just laughed in that small moment of jubilance that came out of Natasha. Everything that they've been thrown hasn't been easy on her, and he'd rather let her bask in momentary enjoyment instead of jibing. He also didn't know how to drive an automatic, so there was no need for protest.
"Not a scratch, Romanoff," he said as the two were already out of the door. He shook his head knowing that it'll probably be beat up the next time he sees it.
"This is a Slurpee," she said to him as she handed him a large cup of very very crushed ice. It seems that they've been spending a lot of time in gas stations.
Steve almost spit it out in disgust. "People drink this?" He asked as he gave it back to the laughing woman.
"It's good," she said as she sipped through the straw and entered the driver's side of the car.
"I feel that there's a large production of unhealthy food in this age," he said.
"I think that's your way of calling Americans fat," Natasha said, laughing. Steve shook his head vigorously, trying to retract his statement. "But people live longer now, compared to before. They can live up to their late eighties, except you're like, way past that so I guess I can't make an argument."
Steve chuckled a little at the insult, then remembered his mother. "I guess that's good. My mom died when she was fifty-three," he said sadly, looking out the window at all the cars and the trees and hills beyond. "I believe you guys have inoculations against tuberculosis now."
Natasha glanced at him sadly. "Yeah, I'm sorry Steve."
He looked over and smiled at her. "She was happy when she went. I just wish she could've seen me after the serum. I bet she would've been proud."
"She was proud before that. Despite her son getting beat up in Hell's Kitchen like every week, I guarantee that she was already proud of everything that you were beforehand," she said as he nodded. "You becoming bigger doesn't make you any more worthy than when you weren't, Steve."
"I know, I guess," he paused. "I guess I just never saw myself that way because I was incapable of so many things before the serum. I couldn't punch or run. I was able to do a couple of push-ups during training, though," Steve said, getting a laugh out of the woman.
"You and I both know that our physicality doesn't amount to what our intentions are," she said. He doesn't think she believed it, though. She spent a lot of her life with her gift, using it for the wrong side and now she's living with a lot of guilt. "At least that's what you let me know."
"And you're right," he said last as the car entered a comfortable silence.
Natasha parked the car four blocks away from the warehouse so as to not be suspicious. She and Steve had noticed what it looked like and parking a Rolls Royce in an underdeveloped community wuold surely turn some heads. Squatters were built out of old establishments. Some of the buildings were almost torn down. She felt that if she blew on it it would all collapse. Those who didn't live in the squatters were sitting on the sidewalk with their shopping carts of clothes. The spy noticed Steve's sadness as he stared at the never-ending street of homeless and poverty. They weren't dressed like anyone else was, but it's not like they're undercover. They just made sure to avert any attention that may come to them and walk through the streets silently.
"What happened here?" He finally spoke, asking about the community.
"I don't know," she whispered. "Probably lost funding or just neglected everything. People can barely get enough jobs in this economy."
Steve looked on, his melancholy coming from the dour view of Hell's Kitchen. He remembered it being better than this. It wasn't the best, but there was potential in most places. "I got beat up in that alley," he said, getting a morose laugh from the spy. "And probably all other existing alleys." She looked at him with sadness and with humor at the same time. "My mom got upset a lot, but I didn't care because she was a nurse," he smiled at a memory. "I always came home knowing she'll fix me after five minutes of yelling."
"She must've always been scared," Natasha replied. "Having an idiot for a son must be so stressful." Steve laughed at the comment, until Natasha stopped and pulled him with her. They were hiding in an alley. "That's where the coordinates lead us," she said. Peering around the corner was a typical abandoned warehouse. It looked like it used to be a nightclub of some sort.
After seeing what it looked like, Steve looked around in the alley before climbing the brick wall to get into the fire escape staircase on the side of the building. Natasha didn't protest and followed suit. They got a high enough vantage point with some cover, looking out into the large lot and the marina behind it. There were two black indestructible trucks at the front, letting them know that this was probably it. "There's four pacing north to southeast," he said to her, pointing at the men in suits. "Two in the back of the warehouse and one that's pacing west to northeast."
It looked like one of those stealth video games to Natasha. And she loved doing them much more than playing them. "Here's the plan," she said, pointing at the building in front of them. "You're not much of a spy, Cap, so I'm not pushing you in there."
"No, I can do it," he said, a little offended at her lack of faith.
"No offense, Steve, but I know you've walked into enemy stations taking out thirty by yourself, but the point here is to not make noise," she said. He sighed, knowing that she had a point.
"I could use some practice," he said with a small smile, not making much of an attempt to persuade her, but just getting it out there for humor.
She shook her head. "It's too high stakes, we'll practice back at the compound—or whatever remaining facility we still have." She looked at the men once again. "I'll take one at the front and I'm gonna need you to shoot the guy next to him. You're going to have to stay up on that building until we finish everyone outside of it." He nodded. As a captain, he wasn't used to not being the designated tactician. As a soldier, he reveled in the orders she gave him. "You're basically in charge of all the men at the right side of the lot. Every time I subdue the person that's near them, you take them out. I'm going to lure one person behind the building, then get out of there in time for you to shoot him. That leaves the other guy behind the building to me, got it?" She asked him, seeing him listening deeply and with full focus in her words. It was nice giving orders. Her and Clint worked so well together that they both knew what to do. There was no briefing needed, because each person already had their designated marks. After working together for so long, their tactics became unspoken because they did it enough times to know how it would always be. To be giving orders and briefing someone on a mission was more thrilling than she remembered. If this were her and Clint, he'd know that he'd be at the rooftop and all she had to do was call a side, east or west, and he'd take care of the opposite.
"You ready, Cap?" She asked, putting her fist out for him to bump.
"I always am," he said. When he bumped her fist, she sent the smallest of electrostatic shock, causing him to retract his hand. It didn't hurt, it just surprised him. It got a laugh out of the Widow. "Please don't ever do that."
She just smiled, shooting her grappling hook on the floor of the roof, and swinging down three floors to the ground. She gave him a salute which he shook his head at. When she got the ground, she saw the soldier leap from one building to the next, taking his spot on the roof and putting a silencer on his Glock 34.
He sat up at the vantage point. Steadying his hand, he set it on a mark and watched as Natasha went up behind a guy to subdue him, but took longer than expected. The man showed some resistance. "They're enhanced, Steve," she said between punches. She finally knocked him out by electrocuting his neck. "I have faith in your shooting skills, but I'm gonna need you to aim wisely or else we'll be met with an ambush," he heard over his comm.
"Trust me," he said, firing a shot straight into the temple of the guy that stood in the same line as the one Natasha had just taken down. The shot was impeccable, going through his temple and out of his opposite cheek.
"Aight," she said, staring at the dead guy and giving the man on the roof a thumbs up. It was an unnecessary gesture that made the soldier almost laugh. He marked the guy next to the truck and knowing that no one would see him, fired one on the back of his head. He saw that Natasha just went straight to electrocuting the Wolf Spiders, because the strangulation and subduing techniques weren't working on the men three times her size.
"Shit, Steve, on my 3 o'clock," she said. Steve saw that a suit got curious, walking over to where Natasha was behind the other truck.
"I can't fire, someone just walked out of the building," he said. He kept his composure, knowing that he was three steps away from finding Natasha.
"I'll take care of that." She started running around the other side of the truck to take out the guy that just left the warehouse and Steve fired just as it happened. It was a bullseye to the back of the head. "Thanks, Cap," she said. She went around one side of the warehouse and threw a disc on the ground to catch the attention of the man looking out of the marina. Steve fired twice, one to the head and one to the chest for extra measure. The soldier saw her turn and run to the other side of the warehouse to take out the remaining guy. Natasha hopped on his back and shocked his neck. Steve jumped down from the three story building like he was jumping from a chair. He rolled on the ground to soften his fall and started walking as soon as his feet touched the ground. Like a badass, he discarded his gun's magazine and put a new one in. "Nice work, Captain," she said with a flirtatious smirk.
"We're gonna need to find a way to get in there without getting caught," he said. "We don't know how many more are in there." She nodded and this time he started giving directions. "Grapple up to the roof. I'll use the truck to get myself up there." She followed his orders, climbing up the wall like a spider with her line grappled on the beaten roof. It wasn't brick like the other buildings, it was made purely of tin, was built like a typical house, angled, and prone to slipping if one were to make a mistake.
"The roof makes a lot of sound, be careful when you get up here," Steve heard her through the comm. He silently jumped from the truck and his hands caught the side of the roof. He pulled himself up and stepped as cautiously as he could, making his way to Natasha who was looking through a hole. "What the hell is that?"
Steve saw a chair, something you'd see in a dentist clinic. He shook his head, not knowing the answer to her question. A man was forced on it, someone both Steve and Natasha thought were familiar. "That's one of the doctors who helped me," he whispered. Natasha nodded in accordance, remembering him as one of the scientists that assisted Dr. Erskine in thawing the soldier.
"I'm gonna need you to talk, Doctor," a man's voice resounded. Steve counted how many suits were in sight before looking at the spear head and realizing that it was Yuri Bezukhov. Natasha was taken aback, finally being able to see the man's face without hindrance. She was out of her element and it troubled the soldier.
"There's nothing t-to say," the man on the chair said pleadingly. Yuri was composed. He didn't have the arrogance of a villain. He just looked like he was on a mission; it was all business for the man of Natasha's past.
"I'm sure you've been told where agents hide out," he said, pulling some kind of torture device that Steve isn't familiar with.
"What is that?" He whispered to the spy next to him.
"He's gonna pull out his teeth," she said casually, almost like it was intriguing to watch. Steve cringed at the thought.
"I-I don't know where she is! Please…p-please believe me," the doctor said, shaking. The soldier looked at him and empathized with his fear.
"We can't let him do that," he said to his partner.
"The Black Widow has to be killed, Dr. Skelton," Yuri said, making the spy freeze.
"Natasha we need to have a plan," the soldier was asking for orders now. He knew that she was being captivated by the conversation because it was about her, but they couldn't waste anymore time watching before the scientist was harmed.
"She is a hindrance to our operation," Yuri continued as he put his gloves on, nearing the victim on the chair. "You understand that right?" He was patronizing, though his face was still emotionless. There isn't a sign that expressed that he was enjoying this, but it doesn't show that he's hating this situation either. It's like he was just doing a job. Bezukhov was so transfixed on the hunt for the spy that he wasn't willing to play games with anyone. It made him even scarier to Natasha.
The doctor on the chair nodded vigorously. "Natasha!" Steve said in a high whisper, and softly jabbing her arm causing her elbow to land because of the forearm injury. It wasn't in pain but it was still uncomfortable and her control wasn't at its peak. The elbow's contact with the roof made noise and the two agents see that it stopped the suits inside, alarming them. They didn't see the pair because they got out of sight quickly enough. Natasha glared at Steve, and he looked at her apologetically. "We. need. a. plan," he said with a whisper.
"Well, whatever that plan's going to be, it's going to shit now," she said, as a few of the Wolf Spiders shuffled out of the warehouse under Bezukhov's orders to check out the noise. "They're gonna find the bodies we left out there," she said.
"Okay, well then we need a new plan," he said.
"The plan is shoot at anything moving, except Dr. Skelton and Yuri," she said, taking her grappling hook so that she could swing down from the side of the building.
"Wait, why Yuri?" He asked, jumping down of the warehouse on the opposite side of the building so that the suits leaving were met with an ambush in both corners.
"He's mine," she said with a tinge of anger in her voice. He heard her grunt over the comm, followed by kicks and punches. She took out her batons from her back and connected them to make a staff. At first, five guys were on her until shots were fired and the soldier with his triangular shields joined the party.
"I shot him twice in the chest," he said, stabbing one through the gut, but to his surprise, he stood up, acting like it was a minor scratch and launched one to the soldier's face. "I don't think I can kill him even if I wanted to," Steve continued, like he hadn't just been punched. It annoyed the soldier more than hurt him, so the Wolf Spider got four straight stabs to the chest with the full force of anger a super soldier could muster. "You better be down now," Steve said to him. And so down he was.
Her staff hit about three men, then she disconnected them so that she could use the electric shocks at its fullest. She was able to subdue one soldier, but she was caught from behind, getting choked by one. Steve was busy with three other men, but managed to fire a bullet straight through the guy's head once he heard Natasha's chokes. That momentary lapse in concentration against his own hostiles resulted in him getting stabbed in the stomach. The spy was able to hurl one of her discs to whoever did that and the soldier continued on fighting despite his bleeding midsection. "I'm gonna need you to extract Dr. Skelton out of there, Nat," he said in between groans and heavy breaths.
"I don't know if I can let you manage this in your state," she said, taking one more man down. As another came at her, she shot him with a grappling hook and electrocuted him. He tried to overpower it so Natasha dropped her baton to unhitch a gun and shot him between his eyes.
"I'm fine," he said, in obvious pain. "Get the doctor."
"No" was her stubborn answer. It infuriated Steve in some way. "There's three more left anyway, it'll take us a minute," she said. It took them fifty-seven seconds, actually.
"Do you know how hard it is to do a job when your orders aren't being followed," he said, out of breath as he clicked his shields back into their incognito form and grabbed a gun instead. They made their way inside.
She smirked at him. She had a gash on her arm that he didn't notice. She moved like she didn't notice either. Her batons were in her hands, guarding herself as they entered. "I know you're a captain, Captain. But you're not really a captain, captain." That confused the man. "Your title's more of a moniker than a title," she said, to clarify.
He sighed. "What do I need to do to get some respect around here?" It was all bickering, as the spy saw him smile.
"Oh, I respect you," she started, moving through the doors of the warehouse. There seemed to be a lot more hallways than expected. "I respect my elders." She laughed as the soldier shook his head. They made it to the center of the whole building, seeing that no one was there. Steve dropped his guard in disappointment, putting his gun back in the holster. The only man left was a dead doctor on the chair. "Dammit," whispered Natasha. She was still alert, looking at everything around the warehouse. There were no lofts and the only other exit was open. They deduced that Yuri Bezukhov fled that way. She hitched her batons back on her back.
Steve looked at the doctor. He shook his head, upset. There was static on a radio right next to him. "Ch-sh…m-Miss Natalia Alianovna Romanova," a man spoke through it. A hologram flashed out of it. "It's nice to finally meet you," he said. She was perplexed, remembering that he had asked her if she remembered him back in New York Headquarters. Did that really happen or did her consciousness substitute what happened to her in the training simulation into real life? "I'm sure you know my name by now." The video was recorded beforehand, since there wasn't an active response to Natasha's movements. He wasn't looking at her, but just gazing his eyes straight into the camera when he filmed this.
"I look a lot like someone you may know," he started. The pair just stood, captivated by what he had to say. "We met once. I was thirteen and you were five." The video popped a three-dimensional hologram of the barracks of the Red Room Academy, similar to the picture that Steve saw when they were in the Triskelion meeting room. He remembered Natasha pointing at which floor the Wolf Spiders Ops were being held. "We were almost best friends. You lived here, but I didn't. I only snuck in sometimes. You'd tell me about ballet, I remember." The man was as composed as he was earlier. He wasn't trying to be patronizing. He was just telling a story like anyone else would. "I'd tell you about cars. We got about thirty minutes a week of talking to each other. Dad would always pull me out at a certain time. I didn't understand why he left you there but brought me home," he said. A picture flashed. The man looked a lot Yuri, but there was small distinction between them. "Remember him?" Yuri asked her, his Russian accent mixed with anger. He wasn't looking for an answer and, instead, continued his outpouring. His speech became more of a diatribe now. "One day, he just, didn't come home," he said. "I don't know what happened. I was nineteen," he said. This man looked exactly the same as the one she encountered in the training simulation. Yuri and him were practically twins but Natasha was able to distinguish this older man.
More pictures were flashing, but none of them seemed to be jogging Natasha's memory. "You stopped talking to me about ballet, you know?" And then one picture. A man with a sack over his head, out on the street, probably a mile away from the barracks. It was in her simulation. She remembered shooting that man, but didn't really know who it was. "Do you remember now, Natalia?" There was anger in his voice, though it didn't show much. "My father was a good man," the hologram whispered.
She put the pieces together. "He was a father to you, too," Yuri said. And Natasha almost broke down. "He was really really good. And you owe him and me a debt."
Steve, collecting himself, suddenly heard three quick beeps coming out of the radio. He grabbed Natasha's whole body, with all the strength he had left considering that he was bleeding.
And the whole building exploded.'