A/N: Terribly sorry for the long wait. Life just got really busy. But, here's the next chapter.

Interrogation

Prague, Czech Republic

The coin in question wasn't so much currency as it was a business card of sorts; a trinket given to initiated members of the Thule Society. According to what little SHIELD had on file, Thule Society wasn't an run-of-the-mill den of mobsters. They had been implicated or suspected in at least fifteen terrorist attacks across Europe in the last ten years.

How a simple government aide got caught up in such a notorious group was beyond any of the agents. Hence, that was their next step – find out how Ivan Kukal became involved, and just how deeply his involvement ran. If they could figure that out, then finding out who killed him and why would become a little bit clearer.

After reporting their findings to the local authorities, as was the agreement, Natasha and the others underwent the next phase of their investigation. Naturally, this led them to confiscating his laptop and scouring the harddrive for any secret files, folders, or emails that could point them in the right direction.

After twenty minutes of careful scanning, they picked something up. "Looks like it's a hidden folder," Bobbi noted. She opened it up.

Three word documents and several image folders were contained inside. The image folders were mainly pornographic in nature. Other than his... peculiar fetishes, there was nothing of note in them. The word documents however, yielded much fruit.

The first one contained dozens of hyperlinks that directed them to secret emails. They were conversations back and forth between Kukal and an unknown second party, which they naturally assumed was associated with the Thule Society, given the verbiage within. "Hm. Looks like our guy was covering tracks," Mack said. One of the emails said that the initial sender needed someone to get the federal agencies off his back after his associates and he blew up a bank in Bmo. Another one said that the initial sender needed funds from the national treasury to help cover an operation in Kiev, Ukraine.

They were all of the same nature. Kukal was using his status within the government to help the Thule Society get away with their terrorist acts. The oldest one was dated seven years ago.

"Damn," Mack said with a shake of his head. "This guy was in deep."

"Typical government corruption," Natasha said. "Nothing surprising about this." She clicked on the very last hyperlink, which led to the most recent chain of emails. Unlike the others, however, this chain was much more argumentative. The sender wanted Kukal to help him/her in assassinating a top government official. Kukal refused, stating that he would surely have been found out and executed.

The very last email was ominous, and bone-chilling. 'If you are afraid of dying, we will help you face your fears.'

Natasha frowned heavily. "Whoever sent this email had something to do with Kukal's death." That much was obvious.

"Any way to trace the email back to the sender?" Mack asked.

"Don't think so. They were all deleted, but backed up on a remote server." Triplett hummed to himself quietly as an idea popped in his head. He removed a silver flash drive from his pack and inserted it into laptop.

The sender, the one who sent the ominous threat in the last email, was communicating under an encrypted email address. If they could decrpyt, that would lead them in the right direction. The encryption finished, giving them a name. "Boseslav Zacpal. Sound familiar to anyone?"

"Nope," Natasha answered Bobbi. "Let's get to know him better."

Olomouc, Czech Republic

10:58 PM Central European Time

It wasn't hard to find Mr. Zacpal. According to his criminal record, Zacpal was usually seen in Olomouc, so they went there next. He was the prototypical rough-and-tumble mobster type. Meaning he enjoyed hanging out in the seedier bars in town. There was only one.

Natasha and Bobbi went inside the shabby hole-in-the-wall, leaving Mack and Triplett inside the discreet van they were using as their mobile base.

Two beautiful women, one of which was obviously a tourist, attracted the attention of every male with a heartbeat. Including their mark.

The two female agents took a seat at the bar. Natasha, ever the seductress, changed her undergarments into something more promiscuous, and made sure her jeans were low enough to flash the edge.

It worked like a charm. The man they knew to be Boseslave Zacpal stalked up to them like a wolf in pursuit of a pair of injured lambs. He smiled wolfishly at the both of them, eyeing Bobbi, then Natasha. His eyes lingered on both of them for an equal length, so they couldn't determine if he had a preference one way or the other.

Not that it mattered.

"Hello, ladies. May I buy you both a drink?"

"I don't speak your language," Bobbi said with a sultry expression. As she suspected, he didn't change his expression, meaning he couldn't speak english. "He doesn't speak english. How do you want to handle this?"

Natasha smiled lustily. "Yes, you may. Whatever you want. We like everything." She turned to Bobbi. "Let's get him to take us back to his place. Shouldn't be too hard. You should have flashed some thong."

"Didn't bring one."

Three glasses of vodka were slid over to them. "I take it you two are from out of town? It is rare to see two beauties around these parts."

"I am from Russia, but moved to Prague after I graduated from university. This here is my girlfriend from America. I'm showing her around Czech before taking her back to Moscow."

The moment she mentioned that Bobbi was from the US, Boseslav's grin grew more wider, more perverse. "Really? Well, what kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed two women to travel through this dangerous city by themselves? There are many seedy people around here, and I would hate to see either of you hurt."

Natasha quickly translated what he said to Bobbi. "This is our opening. Play along." She then turned to Boseslav and smiled gratefully. "Wow, thank you so much. I feel so much better having someone strong like you watching our backs."

The two agents quickly downed their glasses. If he was surprised, he managed to not show it. "Well, looks like someone is eager." He drained his in record time, then pulled out a pair of Koruna to pay for the drinks. "So, how about I show you around neighborhood first?"

"Yes, yes. That's sounds just fine."

He turned smiled, and turned to leave. It was then that Natasha pressed the inside of her ring, which was actually a discreet comm link. "Get ready. Headed your way."

The sky was dark and cloudy. It was well after ten in the evening, and the only light illuminating was from the few dimly lit street lamps lining the street. There weren't too many people outside. In that type of time, it wasn't safe to be outside at night. Natasha knew that, but had to pretend that she didn't. Even though she had played the oblivious female role before, it never ceased to irritate her. Anything for the mission usually meant having to sacrifice her dignity.

Although, the look on her mark's face when she revealed her true self was always worth it. This, she felt, wasn't going to be any different.

The three walked out of the bar and onto the street. "First, I have to make a stop at my home. I left my cellphone."

"No problem."

He led the two down the street and down a dark alleyway that he claimed was a shortcut. Natasha knew better. Under her leather jacket, she had her Widow's Bite bracelets and a pair of handguns, plus a pair of combat knives in her boots. For her part, Bobbie had her battle staves hidden under her longer suade coat, and a handgun on her hip. If something went down, they weren't going to be caught unprepared.

The further they got into the alleyway, the darker it go. To the point that they could barely make out Boseslav in front of them. Years of blacks ops told her that they were walking into a trap.

Sure enough, six men stepped into the alleyway seemingly out of nowhere. They were wielding AK-47s and CZ-804 BRENs. "You two have taken me for fools. I know government agents when I see them," Boseslav stated.

There were three in front of them, not including Boseslave, and three behind them. They were outgunned and outnumbered.

Certainly not a situation they hadn't be in before, but not in this close quarters. "You're a lot smarter than you look," Bobbi noted.

"You don't escape prison without savvy. Take them." Two men from behind them stepped up to grab hold of them.

A mistake. Bobbi smoothly snatched off her clip-on earring and tossed it to the ground. The ensuing flash bang blinded the men.

Natasha quickly electrocuted two men behind them, then shot the third in the head. She grabbed Boseslav while Bobbi shot the three men in front of them.

"You're smarter than you look, but not smart enough. Let's go, playboy."

"American dogs! Your heads will be posted on stakes in front of your paymasters!" Boseslav was tied to a chair, stripped of his clothes and his weapons. They noticed that he had dozens of tattoos inked all over his body.

The most prominent one was the eight headed snake that was across his back.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Mack pulled up a chair and sat down in front of him. "Let me tell you what's about to happen. You're going to answer our questions, then you're going to jail."

Boseslav laughed uproariously. "And why the hell would I do that?"

"Because if you don't," Triplett answered with a sly smirk playing on his lips, "we'll let you go and let it slip that you told us everything about Thule Society. I wonder how long snitches last in the Czech underground."

Boseslav's face dropped like a brick in a pool of water. Apparently, those with loose lips didn't last very long at all.

"Thought so. As far as you're concerned, the safest place for you is with us. So, start talking or start updating your will. Your choice."

He swallowed nervously. "What do you want to know?"

"Ivan Kukal. What was his role in Thule Society?"

"He was our inside man within the government. If we need the authorities off our backs, or need information on a person, he was the man we went to."

That much they knew just from the emails. For seven years, Kukal was in this group's back pocket and did what they asked of him. The one time he didn't, he was killed. "Kukal was killed yesterday. By who?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I never saw her face. All I know is that she is an assassin from Russia."

An assassin from Russia, who seduced her target into dropping his guard, then killed him with expert professionalism.

A cold chill ran down Natasha's spine. "Thank you." She got up and stepped out of the room.

It was all so familiar. It was as if she herself had committed the murder. She knew exactly how the last night of Kukal's life went, and it went exactly how she would have done it.

Which meant only one thing. She didn't know for sure, but she was almost positive. A Black Widow was responsible.

She thought they were all dead, killed off by KGB operatives after the Soviet Union fell. The only reason she survived was because she was the best, and was so adept at staying in the wind until she wanted to be found. The others were dead because they weren't as good as she was.

"Hey, everything cool?" Triplett asked as he stepped out of the makeshift interrogation room.

Natasha sighed and turned to face him. "Yeah. Just needed to step out and think."

"Think he's telling the truth?"

"I know he is. There aren't too many female assassin's left in Russia. At least not any that could pull off a job like this and not leave any evidence behind." She was certain the synthetic hairs were left on purpose. Them being red, and close to an exact match to her hair color, was a dead giveaway. Whoever this killer was was mocking her, daring her to trying and catch them.

Triplett eyed her closely, as if trying to probe her walls and peer into her mind. He didn't get passed the first layer. "Got any hunches?"

She debated telling him about the Black Widows. "No." She decided against it. Not until she was absolutely sure.

If he could tell that she was lying – he couldn't – he wasn't saying anything. "I better call Coulson and have him send someone to pick this guy up. He won't last long out there now that he's spilled."

"He say anything else?"

"Nah. Typical anti-American bullshit. He's not about nothing"

She breathed out a soft chuckle. "Well, he'll be thanking us tomorrow."

A comfortable silence passed between the two of them for a few minutes. It looked like Triplett wanted to say something, but kept deciding against it. "Is it true what they say? That you used to kill for a living back then?"

Her headed tilted back some as she regarded him passively. Her past wasn't common knowledge when she was at SHIELD. Once she and Fury dumped all of SHIELD's data on the internet for the entire world to see, her past became public knowledge. Or, at least it was until Tony had Jarvis delete it all. Even still, there were some who didn't believe it. The old adage of not believing everything one reads on the internet saved her skin.

"What do you think?" she asked in reply.

A small grin touched his lips. "I... think you did."

She smiled, but it was hollow. "It's not something I'm proud of. People like me have a hard time looking in the mirror. I look at myself and I don't like what I see."

Again, he looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. "That's too bad."

An odd thing to say. She frowned for a brief moment, then shrugged. "Guilt will do that to you."

Mack and Bobbi stepped out of the interrogation room. "Coulson's got a jet incoming to pick up our stool pigeon," he informed.

"Good."

"Managed to get the names of a few higher ups, so we have some heads to knock on tomorrow. With any luck, we'll get the name of our femme fatale, or at least a location."

If she was right, getting a name and a place to search wasn't going to be enough. "Then, we should get some rest. We have work to do."