Chapter: 22
The next man who walked through the door wasn't anyone they had seen before. He was a tall, muscular, man who wore an all-black uniform and had a scar on the left side of his face. He looked to be a bit younger than Petrovich but still significantly older than Romanoff. Fury studied the man as he walked in with a confident air surrounding him. Romanoff had told him of the basic people who ran the Red Room, the more higher up people. Earlier when Petrovich had mentioned two names he had recognized the name Zholdin, she had told him about the man and all the torturous ways he could brainwash someone. He figured that was the doctor they were all so afraid of. The name Volkov, however, had escaped him and he realized that while she'd given up the names of all those higher ups she had held back other names and he couldn't help but wonder why. By the way her body had tensed up again like when she had heard the name earlier, Fury assumed that this man was Volkov. He watched as he stopped in front of Natasha and smiled at her with a sinister look in his eyes.
"Talia!" He said brightly "I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see you again!" Her eyes darkened at his comment. She tried hard to keep the glare she currently wore locked firmly on her face.
"Volkov," she spat his name as if it had left a bad taste in her mouth.
"It's been too long," he said sweetly and reached a hand out to touch her face.
"Don't touch me!" She hissed and pulled back as far as she could from him. He chuckled then used the back of his fingers to caress her face anyways, enjoying the fact that she couldn't move too far from him. The way he did it was almost lovingly but everyone in the room knew better than that.
"Oh, but what fun we used to have my little Talia," he moved his hand to her hair and wrapped his fingers up in her curls. "Don't tell me you've forgotten."
"Bastard," she snarled at him, only making him laugh.
"You always were a little fighter. You've grown up since the last time I saw you." He pulled her closer to him and dropped his voice to a whisper. "And my have you grown up beautiful." She spat at him then and he released her with an angry growl. In return she received a backhand so hard it turned the right side of her face pink. He stepped back and another smile spread across his face as he looked her slowly up and down. From his back pocket he pulled out a switchblade and stepped closer again. A smirk fell upon his lips as he knelt down and grabbed the cuff of her right pant leg. Neither Fury nor Coulson missed the way her breath hitched when the sharp blade cut through the material like butter until it went through the waistline. Volkov quickly did the other side as well, allowing the blade to knick her leg a bit, and watched as the fabric fell away. The other men in the room wanted to look away but at the same time they couldn't, it was like watching a horror movie that you're afraid of but can't bring yourself to stop watching. They also got the first glimpse of the dried blood that was all over her leg from where it had been stabbed earlier. At least that wound had stopped bleeding for the moment. Volkov slowly got to his feet, brushing the tips of his fingers lightly against her skin as he did so. She shuddered in disgust and they could see a bit of the fear she had been trying to suppress rising to the surface. "Now this is a beautiful sight," he said as he looked at her, now only in her bra and underwear. He walked behind her and she hissed when he touched one of the wounds given to her by Ivan. "Really did a number on you darling," he said then leaned in closer. "Would you gentlemen not agree about how lovely she looks?" He said staring from Fury to Coulson. The two men gritted their teeth.
"You and your boss are sick," Coulson said in a voice that was promising darkness. Volkov laughed at that.
"You hear that Talia," he said "We're sick." He said then looked back to them. "At least we have the loyalty of our agents. Our methods make them strong, makes them the best."
"That's not loyalty," Fury spoke up. He kept his voice calm and free of the anger he himself felt. "That's control."
"When brought down to the basics," Volkov said "is it not the same thing?" No answer came in response to that so he leaned forward and whispered in Natasha's ear. "Too bad we don't have time for a lesson right now. I was just here to help another friend of ours get ready." Not a second later the door opened again and another man came in wearing a white doctor's coat. A guard helped him to push in a long, metal, table. Natasha stared at the man and unconsciously pulled against the chains holding her in place. "Keep calm darling." The men pushed the table in front of where Natasha was trapped and stopped. The man in the doctor coat turned and face Fury and Coulson.
"Hello," he said with a thick Russian accent "I am Dr. Zholdin, but you probably already knew that, at least, I'm sure you did director." From behind Zholdin, Volkov reached down and unfastened the chains around Natasha's ankles. She immediately tried to kick him and the guard who had accompanied the doctor went to help Volkov restrain her. She managed to land a kick to the guard's nose as Volkov brought her wrists from around the hook that they had been resting on. She struggled against him and he almost dropped her.
"No, no, Natalia." He said as he struggled to keep hold of her. "It's so much easier when you don't fight." The guard managed to grab one ankle but when she kicked him in the head he was forced to let go, he already had blood running down from his nose. "Damn it stop!" Volkov yelled when she kicked him in the knee. He managed to keep standing but the blow had hurt like hell. He quickly grew tired of her fighting and pressed a hand hard against one of the wounds left on her back. She almost yelled out in response but managed to hold it in. The brief pause in her struggles allowed the guard to get a good grip on both of her ankles and he pulled her off the floor. She fought to get free as they quickly laid her on the table and held her down.
"My dear!" Zholdin said as Volkov held her arms down. Zholdin grabbed the key from him and undid the chains holding her wrists together. Volkov grabbed her right wrist and brought it down to the thick leather strap that would hold it in place. Zholdin did the same to her left wrist and she let out a frustrated yell as they were strapped down. She managed to kick her legs free and hit the guard in the face again, he had to step back once he started to see dark spots in his vision. Zholdin and Volkov managed to get her ankles strapped down as well and then took a step back to watch her struggle to get free.
"Well, good luck with that one." Volkov said with a fond smile as he looked at her pulling violently against the straps. She knew what came next and tried with all her might to get free. The guard came up to the doctor then and handed him a bag before walking off towards the door. "Goodbye darling," Valkov called out to her and she shot him a murderous look. "Ivan said we could spend some time together later, I do look forward to it." He smiled at her once more before he too made his way out. Zholdin watched him leave then turned back to the woman who pulled harder against the restrains when seeing him approach.
"Now, now, my child," he said softly. The man looked and sounded as if he could be her grandfather. He looked at her though, as an artist would a blank canvass. "You know that it is pointless." With his wrinkled hands he slowly reached over to the strap that was positioned at her chest. He brought the two pieces together and slowly pulled them tight, the buckle resting on top of her. He made sure to fasten it tight and she could no longer move her upper body. He then moved to the one at her waist and fastened it as well. He always like to do everything slowly, dragging it all out as yet another way to torture his patients. He looked down at her then with a warm looking smile that everyone knew was just a mask to cover the evilness inside him. He ran his fingers lovingly through her hair and she fought to keep her composure as memories were assaulting her. "That's a good girl." He whispered then looked up at the men sitting before them. "You want to see how we make our agents director? How we mold them into what we want them to be?" He wheeled over the table Petrovich had brought in earlier and opened his bag. On the table he stared laying out many syringes and a device with wires coming out of it. On those wires there were electrodes. "Well you're in for a treat."
"I'm afraid not," Ivan's voice filled the air and he stepped in front of Coulson and Fury. "SHEILD has finally made contact, the deal has been made," he said and looked to the two men. "You're going home, safely, in exchange for information and my Natalia." He looked back over to where she was strapped down. "I told you they wouldn't care my dear. You put your trust in the wrong people." As guards came in, freed Fury and Coulson from their chairs, and placed chains around their wrists and ankles, they both looked at Natasha and she looked back at them. For a moment her eyes reflected that of what a frightened animal who had just been cornered would look like. They were led out of the room, Ivan's laughter followed them out into the hallway.