Natalia (the_black_widow) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2018-03-28 22:49:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, natasha romanoff (black widow) |
They never let us go, Sparrow
Who: Natasha and her “sisters”
What: A personal mission goes bad.
When: 3/29
Where: Somewhere in Siberia
Status: Complete
Rating: PG-13 for blood
After the attack, Natasha had had to move fast. There was only one other of her sisters who was in Moscow.
But Oksana was dead by the time she got to her. She was sitting in a chair in her kitchen, a single prick on the back of her neck that was invisible if you didn’t know to look for it. She’d made a life for herself, a family. Natasha had found them in their rooms, also in eternal slumber.
Antonina and Kseniya were in just as much danger. They’d both remained with the FSB, and from some of Nat’s contacts she’d learned they’d been assigned a dangerous mission. From what Natasha had gleaned, they had no idea what they were walking into.
She just hoped that she got there in time. Before they were ambushed. She had no love for Kseniya, but Antonina had been her first kiss with another woman. Antonina would just as soon put a knife in her heart at this point, but they’d been fond of each other once. Nat hoped it was enough to convince them she was there to help.
The facility was deep in the Siberian wilderness, and Nat crawled through the snow and peered through the viewfinder of a sniper rifle. There only a few ways in, and there was no way her ‘sisters’ would take the front door.
There were a few guards, and an array of sensors, and as she was planning her approach, two women in white came into view. She watched as they disabled the sensors and killed the guards.
Peering through her viewfinder, Natasha studied the two women. Kseniya had always been the smallest, a mousey brunette that reminded her of Kitty. Antonina was tall, taller than Nat, with close cropped blonde hair.
But if they entered that facility, they wouldn’t emerge alive.
Aiming near Kseniya’s feet, Natasha fired a warning shot, scattering snow into the air, the sound of her silenced rifle just a soft pop in the Siberian cold. A second shot took the gun right out of Antonina’s hand, so they’d see her position. If not from the muzzle flash than the reflection from her scope. And so that they’d know she could have killed them if she’d chosen to.
Getting into a kneeling position, she waved a flag. Red star on a black background. Once. Twice. Three times. Then gathering up her rifle, she slid down the slope away from the facility.
There were only a few ways out of the ravine she found herself in - the obvious route, the route the others would take to reach her, and a route she’d set up to rabbit if necessary.
She got comfortable, turning on a smokeless stove to make hot cocoa and lunch. Her rifle she propped up nearby, and she kept the pistol on her thigh visible.
After a few minutes, she saw movement near the ridge, and leaned back to wait. When they didn’t materialize, she called out, “Dove, Sparrow. It’s been too long.”
Two heads popped cautiously up, and then the women slid carefully down the ridge to join her. Antonina removed her goggles and pulled back her hood. “Natalia, what are you doing here?”
Kseniya said nothing, sitting across from Nat and helping herself to the cocoa.
“Stopping you from walking into a trap.” Up close, they both looked their age. Not like Natasha, who’s dreams had given her gifts she was still not all that happy with.
Seeming to notice this, Kseniya spoke up, “Who’s your surgeon. They do good work.”
“Big Hollywood doctor,” Nat quipped. She gestured at Antonina. “Sit. I’ll explain.”
“Nyet.” Antonina folded her arms and waited expectantly.
Slowly, so as not to make them think she was reaching for a weapon, Nat pulled out the copy of the files she’d made. The hits on their siblings, the plan to restart the project. The location of the facility, which was a little over a mile away and had been designated as their trap.
For all her small size and quiet disposition, Kseniya could curse like a sailor and she let out some very creative invectives as she looked over the file. “I just saw Oksana two weeks ago. I had lunch with her and her daughters! She was out of this life, they let her go!”
“They never let us go, Sparrow.” Antonina finally took a seat, leaning her chin on her knees as she pulled them up. “They’re all gone. It’s just us now.”
“They want to make more of us.” And if they’d somehow gotten in with Hydra, Natasha was certain the Red Room was really going to exist in this world. It was something she couldn’t allow, even if it killed her.
“Then we are going to spring the trap,” Antonina decided. She got up, Kseniya joining her. After a moment, Natasha stood as well.
“We go in, rescue any children inside, and blow the place sky high. And after that, we find Vadim, and we kill him.”
It was starting to snow as they made their way back to the facility entrance. The girls had done a good enough job that Nat wasn’t too worried they’d be detected until they were already inside. Once they were inside, all bets would be off.
She caught the change in Antonina’s posture just a second too late. Sloppy, Sloppy. Antonina turned, stabbing Kseniya and then pulling her gun on Natasha. As she fired, Kseniya tackled her, but the bullet struck Nat in the chest.
She landed in the snow, gasping for breath as snowflakes danced in the air above her. Dimly, she could hear signs of the struggle between the other two.
Sloppy. That was so sloppy of her. She’d been too quick to trust them, she must be getting soft.
Antonina must have been the one taking out each of the others. Antonina was probably the one that lured Natasha to Russia.
Natasha thumbed open a pouch on her hip, tapping a beacon inside, though she wasn’t sure if she’d hit it hard enough to trigger. The snow continued to fall down onto her as she lay there, hair haloed like a blood stain to match the reddening snow beneath her.
The sounds of the struggle eventually came to a stop, and then there was silence, except for her rasping, and the sound of someone else’s ragged breath nearby.
And then there were the sounds of small footsteps, crunching in the snow, just before her world went white.