Natasha crouched behind a six-foot-tall statue in the garden. Abstract art; probably something Hammer thought was deep and philosophical when it really was tasteless. The moonlight glanced off the metal surface. A cold light, dark silver and shadowy in its glint. The light from the house was, by contrast, warm and golden. It seeped from the windows and glass walls like lifeblood. Another light, a minuscule red dot, winked at Natasha from the roof of the porch. Another from the second floor. And one more at the corner of the building. Cameras. She had to avoid them; there could be no evidence, not even the hint of a shadow, that she'd ever been there.
She was good at that. She'd done it before, and she would do it again. One last time, she thought, one last time so I can be free. Then she would cut the strings tying her to the past, ending her two-decade long career of murder and assassination. And after – she wasn't sure what she would do after, but she knew that Tony would be at her side. That alone made the future brighter than she ever remembered it being.
But for now, she focused on what she knew, what she had known her whole life. The mission. Only this time it wasn't a mission or a job. It was the first time she would kill of her own accord, not because someone ordered her to.
She watched the cameras for a moment, mentally picking a route that would avoid all the cameras. Hammer was thorough, she would give him that; it was impossible to avoid the red blinking eyes of the cameras. Unless… there was another way. She mapped the route in her mind. It was risky, he might see her coming if he was smart or lucky, but the cameras wouldn't. And that was more important, because video tapes could tell stories dead men couldn't.
She turned around and ran back the way she came, vaulting over the pitifully short fence at the front of the lawn. She landed soundlessly on the other side and ran around the corner of the house, leaving a wide gap between herself and the building just in case. When she got to the back she dove into the grove of trees that lined the back of the house. With the cover of thick foliage, she could breathe a little easier. But she slowed her steps down, taking care where she set down her boots. The ground was covered in a layer of brittle autumn leaves that crackled with her every step, giving away her location. Not that Hammer would notice, but painful experience had taught her that it was better to be safe than sorry.
A fence, made of wooden boards six and a half feet in height, separated the woods from Hammer's property. On the other side of the fence was the house. The back wall of its upper level was made of glass, a huge window that extended from ceiling to floorboard across the entire breadth of the house, looking out at the woods. Natasha could clearly see Hammer standing there, a glass of wine in hand as he looked out of the window. From her point on the ground Natasha could see an office chair and the corner of a desk behind him. His office. The room next to that had a balcony that extended over the garden, with black iron railings curled in a psuedo-Rococo style. That was what she was aiming for.
She found a thick tree near the fence and tested the lower branches for stability. It seemed sturdy enough, and from what she could see in the limited light, some of the higher branches should be able to hold her weight. She grabbed a low-hanging branch and pulled herself up. She remembered training in the Red Room – rock climbing. She was one of the smallest girls, short and skinny for her age and puny next to the older, brawny girls, but she had always been good at rock climbing. It was simple – one handhold after another, the distance to the ground growing behind her, until she got to the top, looked back and saw the way she had come. And that was her life – one mission after another, one kill after another, until her past was littered with blood-stained corpses.
Not anymore, she thought with fierce determination as she pulled herself up the tree, her muscles singing from the pull of the familiar movements. She would cut away her past, wash away the blood… with this last kill, this last blood. She reached a branch strong enough to hold her weight and high enough for her purpose. She straddled it and scooted forward; this was the part she had never done before and the riskiest part of this kill. The moment she emerged from the cover of the leaves, Hammer could see her coming.
She scooted until she was near the end of the branch. It started dipping with her weight, it wouldn't be high enough for much longer, she had to make her move. Gripping the branch tightly with her hands she brought her feet up on it so she was crouching, then she let go, ran two steps and leapt. She flew over the fence, barely managed to grab onto the balcony railing. Her chest banged hard against the concrete of the balcony, knocking the air out of her lungs and she almost let go out of reflex. But she didn't, instead tightening her grip. She reached up, grabbed the top bar of the railing and hauled herself over it. She tumbled onto the balcony, breathing heavily. She was in the house and as far as she knew, Hammer didn't notice.
She gave herself ten seconds to catch her breath before she opened the sliding glass doors and stepped in soundlessly, her gun in her hands. It was the bedroom, with a king-sized four-poster bed against one wall. Talk about ostentatious, Natasha thought with a smirk. She cocked her gun, ready to shoot. She made her way out to the corridor. It ran around the edge of the house in a rectangle, open in the middle to look down at the floor below. She had seen Hammer in one of the rooms along the back of the house, so she crept along the wall, listening before each door for sounds of movement.
The first two doors were quiet, but behind the third door there were sounds of footsteps, movement, rustling. Bingo. She laid a hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it. She gave the door a nudge and, in slow motion, it swung open. Hammer looked up with a little shriek of surprise. His face was pale as the papers in his hand as he recognized her. He stuttered, trying to form words but his tongue and lips wouldn't move.
Natasha stalked in like a cat, a feral, dangerous jaguar with her green eyes narrowed at her prey. Her gun was held in one hand in front of her, its barrel aimed at Hammer. She stepped forward, an arm's length away from Hammer and her gun a kiss away from his forehead. "Wait wait wait wait!" Hammer managed to squeak in as undignified a manner as possible. "We can talk this –"
"There are no strings on me," she snarled before she pulled the trigger. The bullet sliced through the air and tore through the middle of Hammer's forehead. His blood and brains exploded behind him like a scarlet flower in bloom, before it wilted and splattered unceremoniously.
The corpse that had been Justin Hammer was still in his chair, head thrown back, glassy eyes blank as they stared up at the ceiling. Natasha was suddenly aware of the mini crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the way its too-bright light cast everything in a dream-like glow that made her feel light-headed. She was aware of the thud-thud of the blood in her ears, vibrating through her skull like a drum. She reached out to the file in Hammer's lifeless hand – the papers of her birth and her training, her life and her past. They were splattered with red drops. Bloodsoaked, she thought wryly. How appropriate.
Her hand was shaking, she noted with detachment as she reached for the papers. And flecked with blood, too, just like the papers she held now. She closed the file. She would take it with her – take it and destroy it. This last piece of evidence to her crimes, her last ties to her past. She would burn it and free herself. This knowledge was like a spark in her mind, a spot of clarity that she held onto amidst the haze.
It was time to go home.
Note:
And here it is, the chapter we've all been waiting for. In which Natasha is a total badass and Hammer is a wimp.
Again, I'm sorry for the long wait but I've had a lot going on these couple of weeks.
There'll be one more chapter after this one and (fingers crossed) it'll be up in two weeks or so.