A/N: Well, I need to apologize for the ridiculous wait. Life is a bitch. I could barely concentrate on one story, much less all of them. Unfortunately, this chapter is short, but I didn't want to add in any fluff just to make it longer. Sorry again, but hope you enjoy :)

Superior

The legend of the Soviet Red Room and its Black Widows was widely known throughout the planet. Feared killers, with nary a witness left breathing. That was their reputation, their calling card. It was why the Thule Society dropped so much cash at the feet of one of the only two remaining Widows in the world. She had in her possession skills that no one else could hope of mastering. Oh, anyone could do what they did. Any woman could put on a revealing dress, where seductive makeup, and charm her way into a man's attention.

It was just no one did it as well as the Widows.

Thule Society knew that SHIELD would be on to them the moment they started to make their move. They couldn't afford for their associate to be anything less than the absolute best. To stay many steps ahead of the global peacekeeping taskforce, they needed nothing but the best.

Two men sat in a mostly empty coffee shop many miles away from the Czech Republic, in the United States. One was bald, with tan skin and a few tattoos running from his neck down his chest and back. The other was tall, with a sculpted jawline and short black hair. "The Russian has done well," the first man said. He spoke with an accent that made it obvious that he was not from the United States.

The second man took a slow sip of his coffee before replying. When he did, he spoke with an accent that made it obvious he was from the United States. "Yes. But, she can do better. I've gotten reports that none of the SHIELD agents were killed last night. I do not want them interfering any longer. Am I clear?"

The first man nodded sharply. "Yes, sir. I'll get in touch with her and tell her to finish what she started. No survivors."

The second man took another sip of his coffee. He breathed in deeply to indulge in the aroma. "Tell me, Salvatore. Do you know what the best thing about coffee is?" When his companion, apparently named Salvatore, didn't reply, he continued. "It's smell. It has one of the most enduring aromas. Nothing better than waking up to the smell of a fresh pot of coffee." He smiled and finished his mug.

Salvatore just looked at him strangely, wondering how a person could transition so smoothly from something like murdering government agents to something as mundane as coffee. Regardless, he shrugged and silently nodded his agreement.

The call from Salvatore came shortly after his visit with his superior. He started off by making sure the girl knew how pleased they were with her work thus far. The leak, Zacpal, had been plugged permanently, and the SHIELD agents were aware that their time was limited. However, when he began to make painstakingly clear that they were to be eliminated as quickly as possible, she said only one thing in reply. "Each head is extra."

He sighed silently, and glanced at his superior. The phone was on speaker, so there was no need to relay her message. The superior nodded. "Fine," Salvatore agreed. "Name your price."

"Fifty thousand for the three SHIELD agents. One million for Natalia."

His heart jumped into his throat. Just when he was about to argue that she was asking for too much for just one woman, his superior jumped in. "Natalia?"

"Romanova."

The room fell silent. Everyone knew that she was the best spy on the planet. While few could come close to her expertise, none could match her skill. It was very possible that she would be able to unravel their entire plan by herself. However, that wasn't what worried them. It was knowing that if things got too difficult, she could simply call in the Avengers to back her up.

"I see," the superior enunciated slowly. "Do what you must. The money will be wired into your account after she's dead. Understood?"

His answer came in the form of a dial tone.

The room and its inhabitants remained silent long after the call was ended. It was several minutes before anyone said anything.

"If Romanoff is there, Zacpal told her everything. Proceed accordingly. And contact our Czech members, and remind them of the penalty for leaking information."

Salvatore nodded and prepared to send a mass email to all of the pertinent members of their organization. While the fear of punishment wasn't as prevalent within the organization as it had been just a few years ago, it was still healthy enough to deter leaking information, at least.

As the air filled with the repetitious tapping sound of fingers striking the keys of a laptop keyboard, the leader of the Thule Society fell into thought. It's been a while, hasn't it, Romanoff? He almost hoped she managed to elude his assassin long enough to track him down. He had been wanting to test himself out against her for years. He was the only one to match her marks at SHIELD, after all; at least when it came to espionage. He was willing to bet his hand-to-hand skills weren't that far off.

Still, he couldn't afford for overconfidence or fantasy face-offs to cloud and blind him from his goal.

"Done," Salvatore announced.

"Good. Let's move on."