Chapter Forty-Eight
✭

After he was done screaming obscenities out the bay door, Alexei Shostakov finally slammed it closed and grinned at the occupants inside. Natasha had already returned to the copilot seat, and seemed unable to hear him when he bellowed, "I'm so proud of you girls!"

Then, realizing that no one could hear him over the roar of the engine, he slipped on an extra pair of headphones. Now his voice echoed in our ears, tinny and still too loud. "That was fun, was it not?"

Right before getting a backhanded punch in the face from Yelena, who didn't even turn to look at him. She just kept flying.

Next to me, Antonia winced.

Cursing, clutching his face, Alexei backed off. "Why the aggression? You come all this way to free me, just to abuse me?"

He sounded genuinely hurt, and I got the sense that there was a lot more going on here than just what I could see on the surface. He knew Natasha and Yelena. Personally. But if he'd been in that gulag as long as Natasha said he was, then they couldn't have been more than kids the last time he saw them.

"It wasn't my idea," Yelena replied coldly. "I wanted to let you rot, but Natasha said that wasn't very nice."

Alexei's jaw dropped in dismay, while Natasha countered, "Definitely didn't do it to be nice, either."

He slumped back onto the bench directly behind Natasha, apparently taking this in. Despite appearing to take Yelena's words as a deep betrayal, he looked at them — the back of their heads, as the women refused to look at him — with total earnesty. "It means so much that you came back for me,"

He had these big eyes that wouldn't have looked out of place on a loyal, old bloodhound. Those eyes scanned the rest of the helicopter, landing on me and Antonia sitting further back watching the scene play out. His expression brightened and gestured enthusiastically towards us. "And you even discovered my progeny, to aid you!"

Before I could protest, his attention turned to Antonia, and blinked in shock. He stood up, and gasped, "Antonia, is that you? Is that my little Tonya? Look how grown up you are!"

That got Natasha and Yelena to swivel their heads, surprised expressions matching mine — and Antonia's, who jolted in alarm when Alexei approached her with open arms, apparently meaning to embrace her. He continued in his gregarious booming voice echoing in our heads, "Do you remember me? It's Alexei! Uncle Alyosha! Of course, I do not look as handsome as I once was… but look at you! All grown up, a beautiful young woman — I remember when you were this tall!" He held one palm parallel to the floor, below his hip.

We all looked to Antonia, gauging her reaction. She seemed startled, almost afraid — before a tremulous smile spread across her face. "It's been a long time, uncle. I-I'm sorry for what my father did to you."

"Your father is a rat bastard and a traitor to the Soviet dream," Alexei said, his face turning grim as he dropped to one knee in front of Antonia. He reached up with one large, meaty finger, and booped her nose. "But you, my little Tonya, you have done nothing wrong. What have you been up to, making friends with my girls?"

"Sort of," Antonia said, her shoulders hunching up. "I, ah, ran away. From my father!"

"Glorious!" Alexei laughed, throwing out his arms, before reaching over to ruffle her hair. "You do your uncle proud, Tonya. And how have my girls been treating her?" His voice boomed across the space, the question directed at the widows. "Has that old bitch gotten to us finally?"

"If by 'that old bitch' you mean the Madame," Natasha said, her gaze turning back towards the windshield. "Then no. We've left the Red Room. A long time ago."

"Oh really?" Alexei seemed genuinely shocked, before he remembered. "Ah, yes, you're an Avenger now, aren't you. Little Natasha, indoctrinated by the Western agenda."

"I chose to go west," Natasha replied without looking back. "It was the first choice I ever got to make. My first real family."

"Really? Family?" Alexei scoffed, and his once jovial tone dropped into something almost mocking. "Well, where are they now? Where is that family now?"

"Oh, don't pretend you liked it before," Yelena snapped back, just as a muscle in Natasha's jaw twitched. "You hated the Madame!"

"I did not hate her!" Alexei protested,

returning to his seat. He shuddered slightly. "She just gave me the heebie-jeebies." then he pointed at me and Antonia, "So she hasn't caught you in her silken web, then? Good! I would not have wanted that for my child. You would not have made for a very good Widow."

"I'm not —" I began, but was interrupted by Yelena.

"This is all very touching," She called over her microphone. "Lovely reunion, just like how I always dreamed it. Now you're going to tell us how to get into Dreykov's compound. Kitezh."

"Chernobog." Natasha added.

"Break into Kitezh?" Alexei blinked, and started to laugh. Long and loud, and entirely, completely hopeless. After a long pause, he said, "I have no idea!"

That got a chorus of scoffs and groans. Alexei, offended by this, gestured to Antonia, "Why ask me? She has been there! I assume that's why you dragged poor Tonya all the way out here!"

Natasha, apparently too frustrated to sit back anymore, launched out of her seat, ripping off her headset before smacking the other one off Alexei's head. "You know Drekov!"

"Oh yes, Drekov! My friend, General Dreykov!" Alexei snapped, and some of that old burgeoning rage came out again as he smacked the side of the helicopter. "Gives me glory! Soviet Union's first and only super soldier. I could've been more famous than Captain America. Then he buries me in Ohio on that stupid mission! For three years!"

At that, Yelena shot him a look over her shoulder, clearly dismayed. Alexei sees it and, perhaps realizing a faux pas, hesitates and grimaces. "Ah, no offense,"

Then he returned to glowering at his boots. "Then he puts me in prison for the rest of my life. Why! Why would he put me away…away from the family I could have known!" He looked up, at me specifically, "You know why? Maybe I want to talk about the withering of the state. Or maybe I don't like his hair — or maybe I want the Party to actually feel like a Party instead of this sourpuss organization! But instead no! He puts me in prison for the rest of my life."

Everyone was staring at him, watching an old man kvetch and moan over an age-old grudge. Partly helpless, partly annoyed. Natasha just rolled her eyes. But Alexei wasn't done yet

"While he just runs off and hides!" Alexei continued, then shot a look at Natasha. "I'm not even the one, you know, who tried to kill poor little Tonya."

"What?" Antonia blurted, stiffening in her seat.

I shot a look at Natasha, an I-told-you-so look that was now far too late to be of any good. She met my gaze with a matching dark energy.

Yelena, once more, came to the rescue, expertly trying to diffuse the situation in her usual homicidal manner. "K черту это, can we throw him out the window now?"

"No, no, wait!" Antonia jumped to her feet, her gaze turning on Natasha. She had caught Alexei's meaning well enough. His sly barb wasn't just pattiness, but truth. "What does he mean? Who tried to kill me?" Her gaze on Natasha hardened. "My father told me Western terrorists set that bomb."

Natasha was silent for a long moment. I was afraid she wouldn't answer at all. Alexei eyed the situation warily, but it was me who said, "It wasn't terrorists. It was SHIELD."

"Might as well be terrorists," Alexei grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

"It was SHIELD's plan," Natasha said, ignoring him. At last, she looked up, meeting Antonia's gaze without flinching. Though her face was stone, something flickered in her eyes. "But I executed it. I had to do it to join SHIELD. I didn't have —"

"A choice?" Antonia snapped back, and Natasha blinked — a recoil. Antonia wasn't convinced at all. "I thought you said you joined them because you could choose!"

"Life isn't so simple as—" Natasha began, but Antonia was already whirling away.

"Some sick joke!" she said, more to herself, it seemed. Breath shaking, tears in her eyes. Going to the far back of the helicopter, as far away from Natasha as she could get. Huddling down in the corner, arms wrapped around herself as she shook.

Silence followed.

Alexei glanced at Natasha, mildly reproachful. "You should have told her." At her glare, he shrugged, "You chose to bring her along, yes? What did you think would happen?"

Natasha looked like she might actually kill him, so I intervened and said, "Just tell us how to get to Dreykov."

He frowned at us, glancing back over to Yelena, then asked in Russian, "Why not ask Melina where it is?"

Yelena blinked in surprise. "Wait, Mom Melina?"

Natasha made a face. "We thought she was dead."

Alexei scoffed, a knowing little smile on his face. "Bah! You cannot kill a fox that swift."

"Ew."

"What?" Alexei straightened. "She was the scientist, the strategist. I was the muscle. She worked for the Madame, and then for Dreykov. Directly! Far more than I ever did."

"Why would she ever betray the Red Room like that?" Yelena demanded. "Dreykov is worse than the Madame!"

"To you, perhaps," Alexei shrugged. "Melina did not work as an agent for him. I know she was dissatisfied with the Red Room. Perhaps she saw Dreykov as an escape."

"Wait, are you telling me that Melina is still working for Dreykov present day?"

"She works remotely outside St. Petersburg."

Yelena glanced at her gauges and laughed a little. "Uh, I don't think we have enough fuel for St. Petersburg."

"No, we're good, we'll make it," Alexei said dismissively, with a wave of his hand.

"Okay," Yelena said with the sort of finality that spelt doom for us all.

"Now while we wait," Alexei slapped his knees before he stood up. He looked towards Antonia and said, "I'm going to go clean up your mess, Natasha. Before she decides to not be so sweet anymore, hm?"

Natasha made a noise of annoyance, but didn't try to stop him, or engage Antonia herself. We watched him lumber over to the back of the helicopter. With the roar of the engine and the lack of a headset, I couldn't hear what he said to Antonia as he knelt down in front of her. But she seemed to be listening.

"He's… not what I expected," I said at last, in an undertone to Natasha.

"No," she agreed, her voice quiet. "I forgot he knew her. I forgot…"

Her sentence drifted, and I glanced over at her. But Natasha was looking away, far away, at nothing in particular.

"What?" I prodded.

"The more things change," she finally said, meeting my gaze. "The more they stay the same."

~o~

The helicopter crashed landed in the rural landscape outside St. Petersburg.

Thankfully, it didn't catch fire, by virtue of there being no fuel left.

The landing was rough but aside from a few bumps and bruises, we all managed to get out in one piece. The rotor engine was spitting black noxious smoke, and the entire underside of the helicopter was smashed on impact. There was no way it was flying again.

It was agreed upon, without any discussion, to abandon the craft and start walking. There wasn't any road nearby — just sloping hills covered in wildflowers and shrubs, the height of a tundra summer. Natasha and Yelena led the way, finding some kind of footpath and muttering to each other, while Alexei lagged behind. My guess was many grievances being shared.

Antonia was the last to come out, and the last to follow. Fearing the recent revelation might have her contemplating running away — and how stupid that would be out here — I dropped my pace so we were walking side by side.

"How are you doing?" I asked, for lack of a better idea. I already had a gut feeling, but asking was more polite.

"Like my entire life has been a lie," Antonia said, wrapping her coat around herself as tight as possible. Her shoulders hunched, head bowed, she looked entirely broken. "I can't trust my eyes. Nothing I was ever taught. And now — I can't even trust an Avenger."

She looked up, hair obscuring her eyes. "They called her a hero. The Black Widow. The only woman on the Avengers — all those stupid faces on TV. Called her empowering. Did you know they made Barbies out of her?" She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "And to become that hero, she had to kill a child. Me. Just because of who my father is."

I was silent for a long moment. "You probably weren't the first."

Whatever Antonia thought I was going to say, it probably wasn't that. She looked up at me, alarmed, and I continued, "Do you know what happens in the Red Room? Where she was raised?"

Antonia tilted her head, hesitant, and then shook it. I answered, "The girls who don't make it — they die. That's the world Natasha comes from. It's kill or be killed. I'm not saying it makes what she did okay. I'm just saying — it's… worse than you think. You were just collateral damage."

"But SHIELD — it would do that?" Antonia asked, brow furrowing. She glanced back at Natasha. "The West always thinks themselves better than us. But they don't behave any better."

"No, they don't." I said, and wondered if it was worth mentioning just how corrupt SHIELD had become by the time it fell apart. How much it may have influenced what had happened to Antonia. "SHIELD was always flawed. And now it's gone, too."

"But the Red Room isn't," Antonia said, arms tightening around herself. "My father isn't."

I looked down at her. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," Antonia admitted, hanging her head again. "I don't want to help the Widows. I don't want my father to… keep doing what he's doing. But how can I choose to side with the woman that tried to kill me?"

"It wasn't personal," I said. "If she actually wanted you dead, she would've had plenty of opportunities to do so by now. Besides," I decided to add as an afterthought. "I tried to kill her too, once."

"What?" Antonia gaped at me. "Why?"

"It's a long story," I decided it was better not to get into it. "But I wasn't in control. And she still wants me around. More or less." Antonia didn't need to know how I invited myself into Natasha's current life without permission. "All the Avengers fought each other before they became a team. Yelena's tried to kill Nat at least once that I know of. And now, here we are."

"Huh." Antonia chewed her lip a little, pale gaze sweeping across the landscape, then back to me. "Is that like a thing, then? Everyone trying to kill each other, and then being friends afterwards?"

I laughed despite myself. That scenario could describe a lot of my current relationships. "Pretty much. It's kind of like…bonding."

"Strange," Antonia mused to herself. "Very strange…"

"Girl!" Alexei called from up ahead, and it took me a moment to realize he was talking to me specifically. I looked up and he gestured I come and join him up where he and Natasha were. "Come here! I wish to speak to you."

"My name," I said as I approached, taking my sweet damn time after being acknowledged like that. "Is Mia. For future reference."

Alexei put his hands together in a gesture of apology. "Mia. I did not get to ask earlier, I'm sorry. Natasha has been telling me of your exploits."

I looked to Natasha. She made a face like Alexei was seriously overstating whatever it was she said. "I was talking about Sokovia. He doesn't get the news much."

"And I was saying how well she trained you!" Alexei said, grinning as he clapped a heavy hand on Natasha's shoulder. She shrugged him off roughly. "I could not have done a better job! Well, perhaps in matters of philosophy and politics…"

I glanced flatly at Natasha, then back at Alexei, wondering where the hell this was going. "She didn't train me."

"Oh?" Alexei frowned at her. "But who else would know how to train a super soldier? My own child? Surely not Dreykov —"

This time, I could not hide my annoyance, anymore, and strode off in a huff. I had no patience to entertain a man's ego. "I'm not your daughter!"

I didn't expect to sound so loud; how much his misunderstanding would affect me. My outburst got Yelena's attention, who was walking way up ahead, looking annoyed herself. She halted slightly, just enough to catch whatever drama was now playing out behind her.

Behind me, Alexei hustled to keep up, shambling in his prison uniform. "Denial is a strong emotion, I know! But you cannot be blind to reality, Mia! Who else could have given your mother the precious seed —"

"Oh my god, stop talking!"

"I have met many a beautiful and dangerous woman in my time," Alexei huffed, which got me to share a disgusted expression with Yelena before he continued, catching up, "Yes, yes, I know I am not much to look at now. But in my glory days, I was once known as Russia's greatest love machine! I have known many women the world over, tasting all its flavors!"

"My mother was American," I replied coldly.

"And I have known many of those!" He insisted, holding up several fingers as he counted them off. "Oh, there was, ah, Crystal, and… Georgia, and — Deirdre! Is she —?"

"You were in prison for years before she was born!" Yelena snapped, tapping the side of her head in a gesture of irritation. "Idiot!"

How the hell was I going to get through that thick skull of his? That particular fact, at least, seemed to cause Alexei to stumble, thinking about it. Frowning, considering, mumbling under his breath. "Well, I suppose it is not impossible…"

"Let it go, Alexei," Natasha said grimly as she caught up, walking past him briskly. "You have no legacy. Get over it."

"Then who!" Alexei demanded as we continued walking without him. Even Antonia slipped past, hustling a little so she didn't get involved. The man looked bereft, hands hanging from his sides.

I knew he'd need an answer, otherwise he'd allow himself to continue believing a lie. He already thought he was Russia's only super soldier. I wondered if he was really ready to believe otherwise. And… well, once he got access to public media, I figured it would suit him well enough.

With both Yelena and Antonia in earshot, a better lie was preferable. At length, I finally said, "Captain America."

That was the wrong thing to say.

I felt Yelena looking at me, but she wasn't the one I had to worry about. It was Alexei, who gasped, expression lighting up like Christmas came early. "Ah! The daughter of my archenemy! Of course! How could I not see it before?"

"What?" I asked, turning to Natasha for context, but she looked just as confused as I felt while Alexei rushed back up to us.

"Ah, it makes sense now! Of course, Captain America is too noble to let me rot in that hell forever," Alexei gloated, grinning ear to ear. "So he sent his little girl to rescue me! Ah, tell me, what did he say about me? Natasha was being a spoilsport, won't talk about him, but surely he has mentioned me! Our glory days!"

It occurred to me that maybe prison wasn't the only thing that had adled the Red Guardian's head. "…No."

"Really?" Alexei looked genuinely disappointed, shoulders drooping. "But we had so many tremendous encounters! We made history together! My great adversary in this theater of geopolitical conflict. Not so much a nemesis, but a contemporary. Coequal. I always sensed a great deal of mutual respect —"

I looked at the other two women to make sure I wasn't the only one hearing this. Natasha looked baffled — Yelena looked like she might start laughing at any moment, in that slightly scared helpless way you do with someone spitting out absolutely insane shit that you don't know how to react to. I didn't know how to react to it either.

"You didn't fight him," I cut Alexei off before he could continue. "You never fought Captain America. He was under ice during your entire career —"

"Pah! What about Gibraltar? East Berlin?" Alexei demanded, scowling now. "Or Havana? I even gave him one of Castro's cigars afterwards! A show of sportsmanship! Or what? He pretends it never happened now? Typical! Slave to Western propaganda…"

"Is that what you believe?" I shot back, now trying to do some calculations in my head. Wondering how long he had been Red Guardian — how long he'd been in prison. Susceptible. "That you fought Captain America throughout the Cold War? And that it somehow didn't push our nations into direct conflict?"

"Of course not! We were proxies!" Alexei exclaimed. "They could not afford to fight each other, so they fight in other countries — they fought through us! But more than once we had to overlook our differences to see the greater problem, to save the world—!"

"Save the world?" Natasha cut him a look. "From what?"

"You know!" Alexei insisted, and when we did not, in fact, know, he sighed. "You were children then, of course not. Melina would not have appreciated such discussion while undercover. But it happened! Once I find proof, I'll show you!"

"You do that," Natasha said, taking me by the arm and hurrying forward a little bit so we were just out of earshot. "I'm guessing Antonia is not the only one living under a delusion."

"At least she realizes it now," I said, glancing back at Alexei, who was now trying to coax Yelena and Antonia into one of his old stories, some escapade in Argentina in 1978. "Dreykov really did a number on him."

"He was always like that when I was a child," Natasha said as we continued walking. "He was proud to be the Red Guardian. He loved the Soviet Union and all it stood for. All its noble ideals. He was… our Captain America. Only he lived. He was active for years. We loved him," her voice drifted away. "He doesn't know about the Winter Soldier."

"I guessed as much." I said dryly, looking ahead now. "Might put a stain on that convenient blind patriotism of his."

The terrain was rough, the winding dirt path we were on narrow and sloping at parts. I caught echoes of hoof prints in the dirt, like sheep or goats frequented this path. There was nothing else around for miles. With this kind of emptiness, my hearing could catch something approaching from miles away — but I heard nothing. Not even the distant roar of a plane overhead.

But there was something.

It was a shuffling sound, faint and far away. At first, it was difficult to tell apart from the wind rustling through the flora around us. Could've been birds or small animals, but the further along we walked, the more I sensed it to be something larger. Definitely an animal, and then — the stench.

"Pigs," I said, when I recognized the smell of their manure. Natasha and I paused together, looking around, but the smell ebbed when the wind died. I shook my head. "Must be another mile out."

"We must be getting close, then," Natasha said, but seemed more tense than relieved by this. She waved to the trio behind us, and we continued at a brisker pace. The sun was starting to get lower in the sky — better to reach the pig farm, as I believed it to be, before it got dark.

Indeed, just as I predicted, there was a small ranch lying at the base of a ravine when we came around a sharp hillcrest. It was bounded on all sides by a thick mesh metal fence, a small house surrounded by several corrals and a barn for the animals. The smell was overpowering now, but I didn't actually see any pigs, despite the smell being so fresh. And as we got closer, I noticed, too, that within at least one of the corrals was built a kind of maze, like for rats in a lab.

Curious.

I did not, however, see the woman until we were twenty feet away from the farm. She appeared from the left, stepping out of some thick bushes that had been her cover. Silent. Poised. A giant rifle almost as big as she was, in her hands.

She gazed at us with hazel eyes, crow's feet at the corners. Pale skin tanned by years outdoors, cheeks flushed by the wind. She had to be around Alexei's age, in her fifties — beautiful and petite, her movements elegant even dressed in a dirty jumpsuit covered in mug and pigshit, her black hair coiled in a series of braids tied around her head. Every inch a Black Widow.

Her sharp gaze, taking us in, one by one. From one to the other, recognizing each in turn, I thought, even Antonia.

On me, her attention hesitated. Lingered. Just a moment too long.

But her rifle never raised up, and I realized she had been watching us long enough to decide we were not an immediate threat.

Alexei smiled, and even his eyes had turned a little glassy, something akin to nostalgia, even homesickness in his voice as he said, "Honey, we're home."