Chapter Three

Ten Years Ago, somewhere outside Moscow, Russia…

"Again!"

Twenty boys under six pointed their guns at paper cutouts of humans. When a bell chimed, twenty bullets fired into the head of the cutouts, followed by forty more. Each cutout had three perfect shots: an instant headshot kill, one in the heart, and another in the leg. With perfect synchronicity the guns were dismantled and set down, ear protection following soon after.

"Attention!"

The twenty boys stood as tall as statues. Their faces remained carefully blank, not wanting to incur the wrath of their instructor.

Peter gulped when Master Igor hobbled past him. He was the youngest there besides Hayate, who stood to his left. Master Igor often picked on Peter for his age and size.

"Seven. Eight."

Peter and Hayate stepped forward in sync. Peter, like every day, wished to be home with Papa. Especially when Master Igor gave a proud smile. He had been in Paris for four months, before being chosen to train in Russia for an "accelerated program". He wasn't sure what that meant. So far, all that happened was Pater being beaten more in training and getting more disgusting porridge.

"Bring in the subject," He said to the intercom in the ceiling. The door to the firing range opened and two guards dragged in a gagged and bloody prisoner. "Tell me, Eight, what are you lot shooting at?"

Hayate looked happy to be called on. "Human shaped cardboard cutouts, sir."

"Correct. And do you find the process easy now?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Hmm. Seven!" Master Igor pointed a bony finger between Peter's eyes.

"Yes, sir?" He asked, and stood up even straighter. He would answer the incoming question to make Papa proud.

"Do you also find the exercise too easy?"

"Er…" If Peter was honest, yes, and it had been since before he turned four. But he had a terrible feeling he wouldn't like what would happen if he agreed with Hayate.

The cane crashed into his stomach."Answer me boy!"

"Y-yes! It is very easy now."

Master Igor smirked. "Just what I thought. Here." A new gun was dropped into Peter's hands. It felt heavier, like it was not just for training with fake people. "Back in position, but no one touch a firearm save Seven."

As Peter examined it, the person brought in was tossed into where the targets were, and they dragged themselves as far away from the boys as possible.

"What do I do, sir?"

Master Igor leaned over Peter, clutching his shoulders and directing his gaze to the man inside. It felt a lot like when Papa would do the same, though Peter wasn't sure if what he felt was from an actual memory or a dream.

"Shoot that subject in the way I taught you, Seven," Master Igor whispered so low, it could have been just a wisp of wind. "You will get food and a letter your father sent you, if you do."

Peter gulped. The man heard them. He stumbled up and tried to run towards the door. If he got out, there would be trouble for Peter, and he wanted no trouble, not when he would get a letter from Papa.

With practiced reflexes Peter aimed, fired, then repeated three more times right as the man began gaining speed. He crumpled to the floor, dead, and Peter was surprised that he felt no more than a little bit of… something. It was much like when Papa sliced Peter's bunny in half, but less so, and no tears pooled from his eyes.

Such was the life in Hydra, Peter would continue to learn. By the time he would commit any atrocities, they would make it seem like it was just as mundane as polishing the rifles or eating porridge.

The letter from his Papa was just one sentence saying to be good for Hydra. Peter recognized the handwriting as Master Igor's. He wanted to complain, but decided it wasn't worth it.

Nothing was, not in Hydra.

Present day, Bay of Biscay…

Two sets of eyes followed the gentle waves from a tiny window. The more child-like pair widened in delight at a fish many yards away, almost invisible with the rising sun. The other, more haunted pair, was keeping not only his eyes but his ear tuned for any pursuers or any nosy crew member.

Peter held in his sigh of boredom, knowing that this was the safest way to travel to Gijon. He was unfamiliar with the city's layout, but the travel guide he swiped from Bristol's docks promised some interesting sights, and the almost three-hundred thousand strong population would be easy to disappear into.

"Peter?"

He raised his eyebrow at his apprentice; she knew talking was dangerous, as they were on a delivery ship. If caught, it would be impossible to explain away their presence, resulting in Peter handling the witnesses in order to prevent Hydra's radar being peaked.

"I have to pee," she whispered, no shame. Peter groaned internally at the hell he was about to go through.

Like any self-respecting Hydra agent, Peter was trained to hold his bladder for far longer than was healthy. Lila was still learning, unfortunately, and she was unable to just relieve herself inside the apple juice bottle like he could. A bucket would work, but the smell would very quickly attract attention. This would be the third time they had to make the trip to a corner of the underdeck with an unused bathroom.

Peter gave the hand sign for her to get on, and once Lila was secure he crawled up to the ceiling and towards the bathroom. The ship they were on was set to deliver pallets of souvenirs from Bristol, and the crew was a skeleton one. Thus, no-one would go down to the lower levels of cargo save for the daily checks, for which they hid rather masterfully.

This also meant, though, that if the bathroom was used more than a few times, or flushed at the wrong time, it would attract attention. It was a game of timing and luck, one Peter wished he didn't have to play. To think, a six-year-old's bladder might be the reason they got caught!

Lila rushed into the bathroom as soon as they dropped down, careful to make little noise. She came out, and they made their way back to their hideout, where they would remain for another twenty-seven hours.

Peter's sense went off halfway across the ceiling, right as the man who usually did a check ambled down the steps. He really didn't want to kill the man; Lila would cry for hours about how her needing to pee made someone be murdered.

Eyes darting, Peter saw a dim alcove in the ceiling planks, and he scurried to the spot before the man made it to the bottom step. Lila clung to his front, and he could hear her heart pound faster than the night of their escape. She clenched her eyes shut as the man did an early check before pulling out his phone.

"Hello, dear," the man said into it, a smile peeping through his beard. Peter could hear a little girl's voice asking him about her birthday. "Aye, I'll be home in two days, we can go to the zoo to celebrate."

The man chuckled and moved closer to the alcove, though his back was to it.

"Okay! Daddy, what did you get me?"

Peter gave a silent prayer that the man didn't turn around. Because as much as he would hate to take him from his family, Peter had to protect his own.

"That's a surprise, Jane, you know that."
"Just a hint?"

An even louder laugh this time, and the man moved back towards the stairs, teasing his daughter the whole time.

When the coast was clear, Peter wasted no time getting them to their spot, and both let out sighs of relief.

Lila gave him a look when her heart slowed to a resting pace, a question unasked. Peter looked away, knowing she would hate the answer.

With Clint, Avengers Tower…

It had been almost three days since Nat had called him, and Clint's anxiety had only increased. They had not set out to Europe yet, and he was pissed at the team once he knew where she was.

His angel, his precious child, was with Hydra. Worse, it seemed she with Spider on a mission… or on the run. The security footage SHIELD had acquired was shaky, and whispers of the infamous Spider defecting was circulating in the underworld.

Clint remembered when the latest of Hydra's enhanced monsters was spotted, almost four years ago. By the wave the guy moved it was clear he was in the field for years, and just happened to be in Berlin the same time Clint was. They had fought briefly, but the overly short agent had escaped with intel that crippled the Berlin banking security for weeks. Hydra had gotten away with an obscene amount of cash, and Clint gained a new scar.

A year later the bastard was back, an inch taller and three times more deadly. It was then he realized the guy was a minor. Not that it made much difference, Hydra loved using kids, and even SHIELD played with agent ages at times to get the good ones out there early. He only escaped Spider by the skin of his teeth, but the brat killed a Nigerian prince's favorite son, which somehow made the region break out into an internal feud still going on. Clint had asked him why he did what he did, once, and Spider had just shrugged, like killing innocents for Hydra was totally normal.

And his little girl was with that monster, in the wind.

"Clint, it will be alright," Nat said and squeezed his shoulder. They were in the meeting room, waiting on some intel Tony's AI was gathering. He didn't say anything to his best friend, just kept sharpening his knife that would be going into Spider's skull.

Most people- other than Nat, of course- would think him crazy for wanting to kill an adolescent. But Clint grew up in the underworld, he knew that Spider was no longer a kid, hadn't been since birth probably, and was more than likely using Lila to get away, perhaps train to take on the Avengers. He refused to let that happen.

"Wow, someone is looking ready to kill," Tony said as he walked into the room, a tablet in his hand. The awkward joke was now the norm, as not even the billionaire seemed able to find joy after the incident.

"Get on with it, Stark," Clint growled.

Tony raised an eyebrow, but pulled up the unmasked face of his daughter's current captor in Bristol by the looks of the docks. The boy, looking younger than Clint had expected, was smiling at his daughter, but it was more of a grimace.

"This, lady and gentleman, is our still no ID'd kidnapper, Spider. Well… more of a secondary kidnapper, perhaps savior, as we can now confirm Hydra had her."

Clint's eyes burned as more intel came forward, and possible routes the pair had taken from the dock were projected onto a holographic map.

With Peter and Lila, docks of Gijon…

"Einleiten," Peter said once Lila was in a new jacket and "I Heart Gijon" shirt. They weaved through the crowd, Lila acting like a small child on the back of her big brother. They had to be careful, as Peter's senses were going crazy.

The crowd was a mixture of travelers, dockmen, and natives milling about like ants. Anyone else would dismiss his nerves as not liking the crowds.

Peter was not anybody else. Somebody was onto them, someone dangerous. His eyes darted through the crowd, spotting a perfect family of five with four friends, all wearing the same shirt as Lila. They were laughing about their plans for the day.

He swung Lila around to his front, and whispered into her hair. "When I set you down by the family ahead, meld into them, they are going to a concert at the north end of the city. Once there, split and hide inside a trash can on one of the third floor bathrooms until I come get you. Nod once if you understand."

Lila gave a jerky nod, balling her fists into his shirt. His heart clenched at what he was about to do, but it could not be helped.

He didn't tense up as he deposited Lila towards the back of the group without her jacket, nor look back as he walked like he was still carrying her. He weaved through the crowds, keeping an ear on Lila, who blended into the family like the professional she was. He resisted a smile at how far his apprentice had come.

A dark aura settled around him as he continued through the crowd, the feeling of being watched getting stronger the further away he was from the people.

Pure instinct was all that saved him as he turned a corner that would lead to the arts district based on his mental map, a quick duck dodging a knife. He grabbed it, and chucked it back to where it came from.

"Looks like you really are a traitor."

Oh boy, that annoying voice could only belong to one thorn in Peter's side: Hayate. He kept his face impassive as he faced his old training partner, letting an eye roll happen at the bastard's dramatic walk.

"Wait, really? I wasn't aware," Peter said, keeping his tone bored in a way that pissed Hayate off. It worked, as the boy's face morphed from cocky to enraged. They were about ten feet apart now.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, and then I'm going to" Hayate's rant was cut off by Peter closing the distance in a lung and elbowing him in the throat. Hayate wheezed but attempted to jab his knife into Peter's groin. It failed, like every other time he tried.

Hayate was so fun to tick off, and after years of dealing with the barely enhanced hothead, Peter would not be saddened if he "accidentally" killed him today. It would keep Lila safe as well, which was a plus.

"Well? I thought you would kill me this time?" Peter kicked Hayate into a nearby wall, ignoring the few people who rushed to get away. "Much like the first time we met, eh?"

Without thinking Peter caught an arrow aimed at his balls, and instantly his day became worse.

Hopefully Lila would understand why he was late picking her up.