Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to Stan Lee! I am simply borrowing them for my non-profit story.
A/N: Sorry for the wait, but I hit a writer's block. Thanks for your patience readers!
14:52 25-AUG-09, ZURICH, SWITZERLAND
Natasha held her breath, waiting for Clint to make the signal. Crouching underneath the main staircase of a partially demolished apartment building, she rubbed her sore knees. Bored of waiting for so long in such an uncomfortable position, Natasha sighed. Clint was busy clearing a path for her to go straight to their target.
Aleksandr Bogrov was only a few stories above her. She wasn't sure exactly what she would do when she saw him. Of course, she told Clint that she had a plan, but truthfully, all she could think about was not thinking about the Red Room. The last thing that she wanted was to go unconscious at that moment.
"All clear, Widow," said Clint's voice through her earpiece. They had stolen ('borrowed', Clint liked to say) a couple of communicators from a discreet pawn shop. It had been an easy lock to pick, and they had managed to take a couple of hidden handguns as well.
"Roger that, Hawkeye." Natasha got up from her crouch, and jogged up the stairs, two at a time, careful not to plunge through any loose steps. She reached the seventh floor, slowing down to take out a Glock. Not turning the safety off yet, she held it up in front of her, making her way down the hall.
Some windows lined the walls and Natasha made sure not to flash her face through the glass; even though the area was deserted, she couldn't take any chances. On one mission, she had made the mistake of looking up to a large skylight, and there was another enemy agent up there with a camera. SHIELD had no trouble removing the photos, but it was enough for Natasha to be more cautious.
Reaching the fifth door down the hall, Natasha paused, listening for any sounds. She heard nothing, but she could feel a presence behind the wooden door. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, readying herself for the fight that was sure to come.
"I can't see you, Widow," Clint said. "Where you at?"
"A door away." Natasha didn't elaborate. Instead, she took another breath, then kicked the door open holding her gun in front her.
He was there. Natasha couldn't see his face, but she was sure that it was Aleksandr Bogrov. He was sitting on a cushioned chair, his back to Natasha. Taking a step closer, she realized that he was tied to the chair, his hands and legs bound together by thick rope. With another step, she realized that he wasn't moving. Cautiously, she swiveled the chair around.
Aleksandr Bogrov was dead.
Natasha nearly threw up. What was left of his face was a tangled mess of skin and blood. His eyes were gouged from their sockets and were placed neatly in his lap; two green irises stared straight at Natasha. He had a noose tied around his neck, his head at an unnatural angle. Written across his bare chest in what looked like blood, was 'Я скучал по тебе, вдова.'
"I missed you, Widow," Natasha read. She inhaled sharply, and then stood up, realizing that the killer might still be there. No one appeared, and Natasha relaxed slightly.
Reaching in her boot, she pulled out a fingerprint duster. Again, they had stolen that from the pawn shop. Natasha took the brush and swiped it across the rope around Bogrov's neck. Her finger brushed against his skin, and she felt an odd tingling sensation in her hand. It travelled up her arm as her vision began to go dark.
"Hawkeye." Natasha touched her comm. "It's happening agai-"
He reached the top of the staircase and saw two figures facing the mountains. Bright red hair trailed down one figure's back, the other figure was indistinguishable in a thick coat. He marched straight up to them, infuriated with Romanova's behaviour.
"You!" he barked, grabbing the redhead's shoulder. He found himself being flipped over and landed with a thud on the ground.
"Shit," Natalia Romanova muttered, but she didn't make a move to help Aleksandr Bogrov up.
He got up, his nostrils flaring. He rubbed his aching back, glaring at Romanova. The other figure turned around. Bogrov saw the Winter Soldier staring at him unblinkingly. Bogrov's mind flashed unwillingly to the documents and files that he had on James Barnes. He barely knew anything about the man, except that he was American and very strong. Even though he himself was not anywhere near weak, he would not try to fight the Winter Soldier.
"Why the hell were you in my office, Romanova?" Bogrov snapped. Without waiting for an answer, he continued."You are the Black Widow. There is no need for you to stay here any longer, so leave."
"Curiosity." Natalia took a few small steps around Bogrov with her hands in her pockets. "I wanted to know more about Barnes. Although," Natalia licked her lips with the tip of her tongue, "I don't think you know anymore than I do."
Bogrov's face contorted, turning redder as his expression turned sour.
"Enough!" he shouted. "You will leave the Red Room!" He made a move to grab her. She tried to twist out of his grip, but found herself trapped; after all, Bogrov was the one who trained her.
He dragged her along, almost reaching the door until he felt a hand clasp down on his shoulder. He whirled around and found himself face to face with the Winter Soldier. The man was scowling and his grip tightened on Bogrov's shoulder. When the pressure was too much for him, Bogrov released Natalia and she gave him a kick to the gut.
Bogrov swore loudly. Natalia raised her foot to kick him again, but Barnes gestured for her to stop.
"Leave him to me," Barnes said. "You have to go, Romanova, before someone else comes." Natalia was about to protest when Barnes punched Bogrov hard on the head, knocking him unconscious. He then walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Run, and don't stop until you get out of Europe."
"What about you?"
"I will pretend that I had a moment and attacked you and Bogrov. You fell down the side of the building."
Natalia frowned. She didn't want him to cover for her. After her years in the Red Room, she didn't want to have to rely on anyone. She never liked being vulnerable. Her head snapped towards the staircase as she heard people stomping up the steps, most likely the guards who had heard Bogrov's shouts.
"Czarina." Barnes pulled Natalia closer to him then planted a soft kiss on her lips. "Go, now." He pushed her away from him and sent her teetering precariously close to the edge of the building.
"Thank you, James," Natalia said, but she wasn't sure if he could hear her. Then, grabbing the fire hose she tied it around her waist. She took a deep breath and jumped off of the building.
A large figure hovered over her, but Natasha could only see its silhouette. She heard the figure saying something to her, but she couldn't make out specific words. She closed then reopened her eyes and was able to see and hear properly.
"James," she gasped upon seeing the figure's face.
"Hello, Czarina."
A loud thump was heard outside the door along with muffled shouts. Natasha heard static through her comm., and then she heard Clint. "Black Widow, are you okay?"
Still in a bit of shock from seeing the Winter Soldier, Natasha had to take a few seconds to respond to Clint.
"Is that you, Hawkeye? Outside the door?"
"Yeah, something's barricading it."
Sure enough, there was a desk, a lounge chair and a sofa piled in front of the door.
Barnes glanced at the door. "That your friend?"
"Yes."
He nodded and began to un-pile the furniture. Once the sofa was out of the way, the door burst open to reveal Clint ready with his bow and arrow. He saw Barnes, and then found Natasha lying on the ground. Looking suspicious, he kept his arrow trained on the Winter Soldier.
"Barton, don't," Natasha said, pushing herself up. She put a reassuring hand on her partner's shoulder. "It's James Barnes, the Winter Soldier. He was Captain America's friend. You can trust him." When Clint didn't relax, Natasha put a hand on his arm, and whispered, "Clint, please."
Reluctantly, Clint dropped his arms down to his side. His gaze caught sight of Bogrov's dead body and his expression became disgusted.
"You did that, Barnes?" He pointed to the body. "Damn. What the hell? Why?" Clint looked at Natasha as realization dawned on his face. "Is - was – that Bogrov?"
"Yes, it was. And he deserved it. That son of a bitch deserved every second of that death."
Natasha rubbed her temples. "James-"
"You know he did, Romanova." Barnes looked angry. With his dark hair down to his shoulders and his unshaven face, he looked as mental as those files made him out to be. Natasha knew better, but she couldn't help but think that he had changed since she last saw him.
"James-" Natasha was interrupted by a crash that sounded like it came from several floors below them.
All three of them started. As another crash sounded, they looked at each other.
"Not mine," Barnes said, putting his hands up.
"Shit, we have to go," Clint said. He broke the glass of a window open and climbed out onto the fire escape. "Come on, Nat, Barnes. Down we go."
Please R&R to let me know that you enjoy reading this story! JM