If you could say one thing about Natasha Romanoff in the months after her escape from the Red Room, it was that she absolutely did not discriminate. So sure, maybe she had absolutely decimated a criminal cell in London. Who could blame a girl? They'd been involved in human trafficking. But she'd also picked up the odd job for some shadier figures. An assassinated scientist here, a politician framed for infidelity there. Black Widow assassins were among the most feared in the world for a reason. And now that she was freelance, without the oversight of the Red Room and its machinations, well. Business was good.
So. Her next target: an arms dealer in Eastern Europe. A minor player in the global theater, but he'd been playing both sides of the local conflicts. He had a lot of enemies. And he was about to meet his end. Too bad she'd already rigged his store of weapons to explode. She knew that the person that hired her had been hoping for a free for all raid.
She was waiting on a crowded street, dressed like a tourist as she leaned against the wall out of the flow of foot traffic. A thoughtful frown turned down the corners of her mouth as she stared at her map, as if she were lost. Finally, she turned the corner onto the less busy side street and walked right into her target. "Oh my God, I'm so clumsy, I'm so sorry," she apologized with a laugh as her map unfolded right up over his face. Her feigned American accent was flawless. With a flick of her wrist, her knife slid out of the brace hidden on her forearm underneath the sleeve of her jacket. She caught it in her palm and angled it toward his ribs.
Somebody had been making quite a name for herself and it hadn't been long before the Black Widow had attracted the attention of HYDRA. With such skills and impressive efficiency it had swiftly been decided to recruit the Black Widow and so an operative had been dispatched to track down the assassin, a task that Gemini had realised was easier said than done.
How did you find a ghost? Gemini had pondered that challenge for two fruitless weeks of searching before hitting upon a (if she said so herself) clever solution; make the ghost come to her. Klaus Ponta was a natural target, an arms smuggler neck deep in criminality, he was the bait that would finally let her hook the fish she'd been hunting.
The first sign that something was wrong came when the knife hit the man's ribs. Logically it should sink in, the man would collapse and that would be the end of that, but instead when the blade struck it met a rubbery resistance, more like a trampoline than a human rib-cage and instead of crying out in pain he smiled widely.
"Oh dumnezeule, Sarah is that you? It's been what five years? It's so good to see you again!" Given her proximity it was easy to throw his arms wide and pull Natasha into a bear hug, the grip strong enough to make the Widow's bones creak, a warning not to try and get away before he released her, save for an arm which he entwined companionably around hers.
"C'mon we have got so much to catch up on, let me treat you to lunch!" The worst part was that the big bluff Romanian hadn't even bothered to disarm her as he steered 'Sarah' forcefully in a direction that was entirely the opposite direction to the nearest cafe.
A curious expression crossed her face when her knife was met with an almost rubbery resistence. That was...certainly not what she expected. She would have turned something up in her intel if Ponta was secretly made of some kind of alien substance. Or a Gumby fetishist. Which could only mean one thing: the person she'd just attempted to murder in a side alley wasn't actually Ponta. Fascinating. Natasha had been in the field for a long, long time. There was an almost predictable pattern to most assassinations. Which meant that faux-Klaus had just become her number one person of interest.
Despite the incredible pressure of the hug, Natasha didn't flinch. Instead, when he pulled back, she smiled in greeting. The knife had already disappeared back up her sleeve. "What are the odds?" she answered. Her arm was surrendered easily as she allowed herself to be steered back out into the crowd. Everything was information. The pain. The plan. The disguise. She had no intention of making a break for it before she figured out what happened. You could take the girl out of the Red Room, but the Red Room had yet to entirely leave the girl.
The nearest cafe had outdoor seating, and Natasha plopped herself down in one of the chairs. If whoever she was now sitting across from wanted her dead, she'd already be dead. Which meant someone was interested enough in her skills to take Klaus out of the picture. "If you have any people back at Klaus's base," she remarked conversationally as she picked up a menu, "it's rigged to explode in 5 minutes."
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for stretchy_girl
So. Her next target: an arms dealer in Eastern Europe. A minor player in the global theater, but he'd been playing both sides of the local conflicts. He had a lot of enemies. And he was about to meet his end. Too bad she'd already rigged his store of weapons to explode. She knew that the person that hired her had been hoping for a free for all raid.
She was waiting on a crowded street, dressed like a tourist as she leaned against the wall out of the flow of foot traffic. A thoughtful frown turned down the corners of her mouth as she stared at her map, as if she were lost. Finally, she turned the corner onto the less busy side street and walked right into her target. "Oh my God, I'm so clumsy, I'm so sorry," she apologized with a laugh as her map unfolded right up over his face. Her feigned American accent was flawless. With a flick of her wrist, her knife slid out of the brace hidden on her forearm underneath the sleeve of her jacket. She caught it in her palm and angled it toward his ribs.
no subject
How did you find a ghost? Gemini had pondered that challenge for two fruitless weeks of searching before hitting upon a (if she said so herself) clever solution; make the ghost come to her. Klaus Ponta was a natural target, an arms smuggler neck deep in criminality, he was the bait that would finally let her hook the fish she'd been hunting.
The first sign that something was wrong came when the knife hit the man's ribs. Logically it should sink in, the man would collapse and that would be the end of that, but instead when the blade struck it met a rubbery resistance, more like a trampoline than a human rib-cage and instead of crying out in pain he smiled widely.
"Oh dumnezeule, Sarah is that you? It's been what five years? It's so good to see you again!" Given her proximity it was easy to throw his arms wide and pull Natasha into a bear hug, the grip strong enough to make the Widow's bones creak, a warning not to try and get away before he released her, save for an arm which he entwined companionably around hers.
"C'mon we have got so much to catch up on, let me treat you to lunch!" The worst part was that the big bluff Romanian hadn't even bothered to disarm her as he steered 'Sarah' forcefully in a direction that was entirely the opposite direction to the nearest cafe.
no subject
Despite the incredible pressure of the hug, Natasha didn't flinch. Instead, when he pulled back, she smiled in greeting. The knife had already disappeared back up her sleeve. "What are the odds?" she answered. Her arm was surrendered easily as she allowed herself to be steered back out into the crowd. Everything was information. The pain. The plan. The disguise. She had no intention of making a break for it before she figured out what happened. You could take the girl out of the Red Room, but the Red Room had yet to entirely leave the girl.
The nearest cafe had outdoor seating, and Natasha plopped herself down in one of the chairs. If whoever she was now sitting across from wanted her dead, she'd already be dead. Which meant someone was interested enough in her skills to take Klaus out of the picture. "If you have any people back at Klaus's base," she remarked conversationally as she picked up a menu, "it's rigged to explode in 5 minutes."