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euovennia · 2 years

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widow | CH. II

pairing: soap x fem!reader

a/n: i decided to change up the bar scene at the end of the game because this is my story and i'll do as i please. regardless, the boys are finally here, woo!!! there'll be more interactions between them all next chapter (that's probably gonna be the majority of it tbh) but please enjoy this semi-awkward meeting for now <3

friendly reminder that this work is written with a fem!reader in mind, but with no specified features

PROLOGUE, CH. I, CH. III, CH. IV

Four Years Later

It had been just a few short hours after Ghost had saved Soap from what would have otherwise been a certain death by the hands of Hassan Zyani. The past few weeks were nothing short of grueling but as Ghost, Soap, and Gaz all made their way through the bustling streets of Chicago to meet Price and Laswell at a local dive bar, they couldn’t help but want to give themselves a little pat on the back for a job well done. As well as it could have gone at least, there was still the issue of Grave’s death and Shepherd's betrayal on Los Vaqueros and the 141. Perhaps that would be their next mission.

Finally approaching the dingy bar, the three men began filing inside the bar as they each made a beeline over to Price and Laswell who seemed to be having a rather serious conversation if the looks on their faces were anything to go by. Upon seeing the team approach however, Price simply gave them a small nod before taking a swig of this drink. The boys take their seats before each ordering a drink of their choice. With everyone now settled in, Laswell decides to speak.

“You boys did your job and you did it well. Congratulations,” She raises her glass and the four men follow in succession, a sense of pride and accomplishment lingering in the air. The group sits in silence for a few moments before Gaz breaks it.

“So what now?”

“We find Shepherd,” Price announces firmly.

Laswell sighs, “That’s not what we agreed on.”

Price looks at her out of the corner of his eye, “We never agreed on anything, Laswell.”

“We’ve got bigger issues than just finding Shepherd.”

“I reckon that’s the reason you’ve got other teams then,” He lamely states as he takes another sip of his drink.

“Trust me, this is something you’ll want to be involved in,” She says before reaching inside her jacket pocket and pulling out a photo. She plants it face down on the bar counter before sliding it over to Price.

He stares at the photo for a few seconds before taking the photo in his hands and flipping it over. He sucks in a sharp breath upon seeing the familiar dark-haired man. Lips pressed into a thin line, he passes the photo over to Gaz. He studies the photo for a few moments before his eyes flicker up to Price's tense frame. Not wanting to ask quite yet, he hands it over to Soap who tilts his head in confusion upon holding it in his hands. Finally, he gives it to Ghost who merely diverts his attention back over to Laswell and Price after staring down the photo for a few seconds.

This time it’s Soap who speaks up, “Who’s that?”

Price lets out a sigh as his grip on the glass in front of him gets tighter.

“Ivan Volkov.”

“What's he done,” Gaz questions.

“We’ll get into that later. Right now, I need you four to head back to the safe house.”

Ghost speaks up, “What are you gonna do?”

“I have a contact completing a mission out in France at the moment to get the last bit of info we need to go after Volkov. I’ll be awaiting their call.”

“What if they don't get it?” Soap chimes in.

Price finishes off the rest of his drink.

“I’ve got a feeling that won’t be an issue.”

Paris, France

A woman watches as the man lifelessly falls back onto the ground, a bullet firmly nestled into his forehead as a steady stream of blood begins to ooze out of the wound.

“Hah…And they said I couldn't be a sniper,” A familiar German accent rings out through her comms.

A small smile comes across her face as she focuses her attention back on the laptop screen in front of her.

“You did well, König. Perfect shot as always my dear friend,”

“Just living out my dreams,” He pauses for a moment, “Do you think I would've made a good sniper?”

“You are a good sniper.”

“But they said I was too tall and couldn't sit still,”

“Doesn’t change the fact you have yet to miss a shot while you’re with me,” She responds as she attaches a small black hard drive into the side of the computer, leaning back and watching as various files upload to the drive.

“Why do you have Laswell request me for these missions?”

“So you can live out your dream.”

She pays no mind to the small ‘thank you’ that flows through her comms.

After all the files have been copied onto the drive, she quickly detaches it and stores it in the small tactical sling bag she’d brought with her.

“I’ve got the intel, I’ll meet you down at the entrance.”

“Copy that.”

The woman promptly pushes herself up from the raggedy desk chair and makes her way over to the grey metal door before pushing it open and walking out the small office. She steps over the lifeless bodies of the various guards she’d taken out prior to making her way into the office. She had quickly come to find that it was quite easy to get through the dead man’s so-called security detail but she knew she couldn’t take all the credit. König was rather handy with that sniper of his after all.

Finally approaching the exit door, she pushed her way through it to reveal the sight of König mindlessly kicking pebbles around with his feet.

“Having fun?”

“Just wanted to make sure you got out safe.”

“Well I’m here,” She motions over to the car sitting a few feet away from them, “Go start it up. I’ll be there in a moment, I have to make a quick call.”

He simply nods before walking away. The woman pulls out a small burner phone from the side pocket of her bag and flips it open before typing in a number she knew all too well by now. She waits patiently for a few moments before she hears Laswell’s voice ring out through the phone.

“Shadow?”

“Target has been eliminated and I have the hard drive. K and I are gonna start making our way back to the safe house then we’ll be on our way to transport at dawn.”

“Actually there’s been a change of plans.”

The woman tilts her head, “What kind of changes?”

“You’ll still make your way to the safe house but you won’t be spending the night there. Instead, I want you to go four klicks north. You should end up in an open field. A short plane will come down and get you.”

“I take it we’re not going back to Germany?”

”Affirmative. You’ll be flown into Chicago and dropped at base. From there, you’ll be escorted directly to me.”

“What about König?”

“I’m going to reach out to KorTac and let them know he’s ready for transport once you two arrive at base. He should be reunited with them late tomorrow afternoon.”

“Alright. See you then I suppose.” “See you.”

The woman flips the phone closed before walking over to the car and sliding in the driver’s seat upon seeing the passenger side occupied by König.

“Didn’t feel like driving?”

He shakes his head.

“The seat doesn’t extend back far enough…It hurts my knees.”

She gives him a small nod as she begins driving.

“You should have more leg room in the plane.”

“Plane?”

“Yeah. We’re heading to Chicago.”

“Scheiße.”

“I like this one.”

“Yeah? What do you like about it?”

König goes quiet for a moment before speaking once more.

“It’s not too loud and it’s not too quiet. It’s simple.”

The woman mulls over his words for a short while before nodding her head.

“Yeah…It is rather simple isn’t it? Just a man playing the piano.”

“Just a man playing the piano,” König parrots back.

They sit in silence for a few moments before he speaks up once more.

“What song is this again? I know you told me, but I think I blacked out for a bit.”

“Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2 by Frédéric Chopin.”

“What do you know about him?”

“He was a Polish composer born in 1810 known primarily for his solo piano pieces. He published his first composition at the age of seven and began performing when he was eight. Even so, he didn’t make his official debut until 1829. People were enthralled by him and so his fame only grew with time. He eventually passed away at the age of thirty-nine on October 30, 1849. His official cause of death isn’t known, but some theorize it was pulmonary tuberculosis.”

König lets out a hum of acknowledgement.

“How do you always know so much about these people?”

Her mind drifts off for a few moments, memories of ballet shoes and leotards flashing in and out of her mind before she eventually shakes her head and lets out a small sigh.

“I like to read about them when I can’t sleep.”

A lie, but he doesn’t know that.

“Hmm…Maybe I should give it a shot.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but is cut off by the co-pilot shouting over to them through the opening of the cockpit door.

“We’ve touched down, we’ll be parked shortly!”

She and König spare each other a glance before he’s taking out the earbud she lent him as she quickly wraps the cord over her 7th gen. iPod Nano. Despite the black music player being rather dated, she had found an odd comfort in downloading songs off the internet and storing them onto the small device. It was simple and she’d come to like simple.

True to their word, the plane eventually comes to a complete stop as the pair slung their tactical backpacks on their shoulder with König sporting a hefty duffel hand in his right hand that was filled with various weapons he’d brought with him for the mission. They both stand up from their seats with König having to duck his head due to his massive frame as she goes over and slides the plane door open before beginning her descent down the stairs of the plane with König following right behind her.

Her eyes scan over the layout before eventually landing on Price who was currently walking toward the pair who were now standing still on the tarmac. He eventually comes to a stop in front of the pair as he gives a nod of acknowledgement to König who returns an awkward wave.

Bless him.

Price then turns to Shadow as he offers her a small smile.

“Good to see you again, kid.”

“Likewise, but what exactly are you doing here?”

She watches with increased interest as his smile appears to falter just slightly before speaking, “We’ll get to that in a bit. You’ve still got the phone on you?”

She nods as she places a hand over the small bag, “In here.”

He gives her an approving nod before turning to König, “KorTac won’t be here until late this evening. Something about inclement weather. You can do as you please until then.”

König gives him a firm nod before leaning down to Shadow as he gives her arm a small squeeze, “See you next mission then.”

She returns the small gesture before he stands up straight once more and stalks off toward what she assumes is a quiet place for him to sit back and decompress, she knows missions take a lot out of him.

She turns her attention back to Price who is now holding out two granola bars to her.

“It’s not much, but I figure you haven’t eaten in a good while.”

She takes the small snack from him.

“Thanks.”

“Come on, Laswell’s got some water in her office. You wash those down there,” He states as he begins walking forward with her following beside him.

She rips open the first bar and begins munching on it before speaking, “Am I gonna get any context on what’s happening here or do I have to go in blind?”

Price purses his lips, “I think this is something you should work out with Laswell.”

“Is she finally kicking me to the curb?”

“What? No. Where’d you even get that idea from?”

She takes another bite of her granola bar, “Sooner or later she’ll realize she doesn’t need me anymore and toss me to the side. It happens all the time.”

Price gives her shoulder a firm nudge with his arm as he speaks, “You know I don’t like when you talk about yourself like that.”

She shrugs, “Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

The older man releases an exasperated sigh, “You’re a lot darker than I originally thought.”

If only you knew.

She takes one last bite of her first granola bar before tearing open the packaging of the second one as they both approach a door. Price leans forward and pulls the door open and allows her to walk in before taking the lead once more as they weave through the hallways of the building. They eventually come to a stop outside an unmarked door and Price looks down at her.

“Do me a favor and try to hear Laswell out before you make any decisions, okay?”

She narrows her eyes at his words before he pushes the door open and walks inside. Taking a bite of her bar, she follows behind him before coming to a stop by his side as her chewing comes to a halt as she sees Laswell sitting at a circle shaped desk with multiple manila folders sat in front of her. She gulps down her bite of granola as she looks up at Price with a questioning gaze to which he merely gives her a pat on the shoulder before taking a seat beside Laswell. Her eyes dart over to Laswell who simply gestures to the empty seat sitting directly in front of them. Sucking in a small breath, she reluctantly walks over and pulls out the chair before sitting down in it.

She swallows, “What’s this all about?”

Laswell is the one to speak, “The drive. You have it with you, right?”

Upon seeing her outstretched hand, the woman unzips the main compartment of her small bag and grabs the drive before sliding it across the table over to Laswell who picks it up.

“Excellent. Once I get my team to look through this, we should be ready to go ahead.”

“Go ahead on what exactly?”

Laswell looks up at her, “The past four years of your life have been solely dedicated to finding any bit of information you could get me on Volkov and his current whereabouts,” She holds up the drive in her hand, “This will offer us the last piece of the puzzle. We can finally go after him and take him out.”

The woman points a finger at Price.

“Then what’s he here for?”

“His team is going to help you.”

The woman’s hand falls onto the table as her gaze hardens.

“No.”

Laswell sighs, “You don’t have a choice. If I decide I want Price’s team on this mission with you then they’re going on the mission with you, no exceptions.”

“But there’s no need for them to be here. Every piece of information you have on the Red Room is because of me. I don’t like working with teams and you know that.”

“Then what about all the times you’ve worked with König?”

“König is a single person, not a group of four. There’s a difference. Teams only offer more opportunities to fail.” “But they can also offer more opportunities to succeed. Why are you against them anyway? You haven’t even seen them.”

“I don’t want to see them.”

“Well I’m sorry to say this, but I don’t care. Either you work with this team or I pull you from this mission entirely.”

Shadow scoffs, “You can’t do that.” “I have every right to do so and you know it.”

The pair fall into a loud silence before Laswell lets out a soft sigh.

“I know you can do this by yourself, there’s not a single doubt in my mind about that…But I don’t want you to do this by yourself.”

Shadow looks up at her.

“Why not?”

“Because out of every mission you’ve gone on, this is the most dangerous. Ivan Volkov is a dangerous man and the last thing I need is you out there on the field trying to take him out by yourself. I–”

She pauses as she spares a glance to Price out the corner of her eye.

“–We care too much about you to let you do that to yourself.”

Shadow has to refrain from rolling her eyes. “Then send König out there with me, I don’t care! Just don’t stick me with a random team who I know nothing about.”

Laswell shakes her head, “Various members of KorTac will be sent out on missions of their own within the next few days, König is one of them.”

“So that’s it then? Either you stick me in a group with a bunch of random people or I don’t get to go after Volkov at all?”

Laswell nods.

Shadow lets out a humorless laugh, “No offense Las, but you’re a real piece of work.”

Her lips tick up in a small smile, “You’re starting to sound like my wife.”

Shadow goes quiet for a minute before sighing, “You’re not gonna let up on this, are you?”

“Not this time.”

The younger woman seems to bounce a few ideas around her head for a bit before giving a reluctant nod.

“Fine, but if they suck I’m shooting them first chance I get.”

Price offers her a smile, “I’ll hand you the gun.”

“Good. Now that we’re all in agreement, you’re free to go for now. I’ll have my team look through the hard drive to extract any useful information we come across. We’ll meet here again tomorrow at fifteen-hundred hours to go over everything. Does that sound alright?”

“None of this sounds alright, but I’ll be a good little soldier and say yes.”

“Mercenary,” Price corrects.

This time she doesn’t hold back her eye roll.

“Same difference.”

After the short meeting she had with Price and Laswell, Shadow had managed to snag an empty shower long enough for her to scrub away all the dirt and bits of blood that had dried and hardened to her skin. She’d changed out of her kevlar bodysuit and instead opted for some simple leggings and a hoodie with a plain tank top tucked underneath. She didn’t bother switching out her black boots for anything else, they were clean and comfortable enough for her so she didn’t see the need to. Once completely clean and changed, she mindlessly wandered around base for a just over an hour before eventually finding König tucked away in an old conference room as he let old reruns of ‘Modern Family’ play out on a small tv screen just a few feet away from chair he sat in. Not quite wanting to leave him alone, she decided to keep him company.

Seeing as they originally touched down just after twelve pm, that had been more than a few hours ago, considering the sky was now gradually turning into a mix of yellows, oranges, and reds. Not that it felt like it had been that long. She enjoyed spending time with König, whether it be on missions or sitting in an old dusty conference room having hushed conversations where he freely talked her ear off. She didn’t mind though. Despite his sometimes manic and hyper demeanor on the field, she’d come to find he had great difficulty trying to connect with others on a more casual and friendly level, but she and König had spent so much down time together on their missions together that the bond they had formed rather quickly. She was grateful for it.

As much as she enjoyed the time she spent with König, there eventually came a time where one of them would have to depart from the other and this time, it was him. After having received word that his transportation back to KorTac would be landing in ten minutes, he decided it was best to start heading back to the tarmac.

He’d given her a firm hug that was made only slightly awkward due to his massive frame, but she enjoyed it all the same.

“I’ll see you around, Shadow.”

“Until next time, K.”

With König now departed from base, she had taken it upon herself to wander around aimlessly before eventually settling down on a table outside near a building that she could only assume was a training area if the workout gear people wore while filing in and out was anything to go by. She quietly watched everyone from a distance as the soft notes of Debussy’s ‘Claire de Lune’ spilled through the small speakers of her earbuds.

She sat with her legs crossed on the chair and hands clasped in her lap as she watched one soldier narrowly avoid running into a metal pole after being so caught up in whatever app is currently lighting up their phone screen. Her eyes began to drift over to the entrance, but stopped when her ears picked up on the quiet string of footsteps that were growing closer and closer. She whipped her head around, body tense and glare ready, but quickly fell back into her previous semi-relaxed state as she saw Price approaching her with a sandwich and a bottle of water in his hands. She untucked her right leg from its crossed position and used it to push out the spare chair that sat a few feet from hers. She let her leg dangle off the chair she occupied as Price took a seat in the chair and slid the sandwich and water over to her.

“Didn’t see you in the mess hall for dinner, thought you might be hungry.” She gives him a nod of appreciation and removes her earbud before reaching forward, unwrapping the sandwich, and taking a bite. They sit in a comfortable silence as she finishes off the rest of her sandwich and washes it down with the water. She balls up the wrapper and shoves it in the pocket of her hoodie to throw away later. Price looks at her.

“Where have you been all day?”

“Holed up in an old conference room with König. We just watched some TV and talked before he had to go. He left a couple hours ago.”

Price nods as he continues, “How’d you two meet?”

“I met him three years ago when I was doing a mission of my own for Laswell. Apparently he’d been stationed in the same area. I almost shot him until I saw the KorTac emblem on his uniform. He just took that as an opportunity to start throwing punches and yell at me in German,” She responds, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she replays the memory.

“Bloody hell,” He runs a hand over the side of his face in an exasperated motion, “How’d you get yourself outta that?”

“I started yelling back at him in German.”

Price huffs out a laugh, “Sounds about right. I assume you two get on well now though, right?”

She nods, “Yeah, he’s a good guy. Real talented with a sniper too believe it or not.”

“I have a hard time believing a bloke as big as him takes the time to steady up on a sniper rather than ram into everything like a bull.”

She shrugs, “Hasn’t missed a shot so far.”

Price nods as if absorbing the information. He remains quiet for a few moments before speaking up again.

“So…If you can warm up to a man twice your size, surely you can warm up to the idea of working with my team, right?”

She lets out a huff as she looks over to Price.

“No offense, but I want nothing to do with your team.”

“Oh come on, kid. They’re not that bad! A bit on the cheeky side some of them, but they mean well,” He defended.

“Anyone who can work with you long enough to look past that god awful thing on your head shouldn’t be trusted.”

Price’s hands go to touch the edges of his boonie hat.

“It’s a good hat!”

“It’s a disgrace is what it is.”

He huffs out a breath of air as he returns his hands to rest on the table in front of them.

“Unnecessary disrespect to my hat aside, I mean it when I say they’re good people. I’ve fought alongside them and I can firmly say I’d trust any one of those muppets with my life. You’ve just gotta give ‘em a chance.”

She sighs as she fiddles with the crumpled up wrapper in the pocket of her hoodie, “Must’ve put a spell on you if you’re willing to stick your neck out like this for them,” She mumbles.

“No spells, just quality work done by quality men.”

She doesn’t respond.

Price’s lips falter into a frown before he decides to make one last effort.

“Look, I know you’ve gotten used to workin’ alone these past few years save for König and I understand that, but you’ve gotta see where Laswell and I are coming from here. You’ve made yourself one of our most useful assets, not just as an employee, but as a person.” He stops to think about his next words for a few moments before continuing.

“Look, ever since you told us about that emblem you managed to snag off one of those Red Room assassins, the three of us have spent a lot of time together. I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way Laswell and I–” He let out a sigh, trying not to fumble his next words. “–We started to care about you. Probably more than we should’ve,” He pauses, “We just want you to be safe, and we feel the only way to do that this time around is to pair you up with a team. My team. It’s not a punishment or us doubting your abilities, we just wanna keep an eye on you. That’s all it is.”

The woman remains quiet for a while before looking up at Price, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips.

“I knew you two liked me more than you let on.”

Price rolls his eyes as he leans forward and gives her shoulder a nudge before settling back into a more serious expression.

“Just tell me you’ll at least try to work with them, even if you end up hating all of us by the end of it.”

She lets out a sigh, “I’ll try.”

He smiles at her, “Good, because I’m not sure what I would’ve told Laswell if you said no.”

They share a small laugh and Price stays with her for a while longer before eventually leaving to get some rest, but not before making her promise him that she would also leave to get some rest soon. She refrains herself from rolling her eyes and offers the most disarming smile she could muster before agreeing. While he was able to detect the steady wave of slight annoyance radiating off her, he decided not to pry any further. She was an adult after all and so, he left as he wandered back in the direction of his room.

She watched as the silhouette of the man who had practically saved her from the life she lived before got smaller and smaller the more he walked into the darkness of the night. She tried telling herself it was just to make sure no one snuck up on him despite being within the relatively safe confines of the base, but she knew better. The pit of guilt that had been festering inside of her ever since she did nothing to stop the steam of lies that fell from her lips four years ago seemed to make itself stronger than ever. It was eating her alive.

Shadow takes in a deep breath as she slowly makes her way toward the two before stopping beside Laswell. She stares at the buckle sat in Laswell’s hand before bringing up her right hand and placing her own object on the bed.

Laswell’s chest tightens as she places the metal buckle in her hand beside the one Shadow just brought.

“They’re the same,” Price remarks.

Laswell looks at Shadow, “How do you have that?”

Shadow keeps her eyes concentrated on the tri-colored hourglass emblem that had been burned into her mind for her entire life. A deep pit growing in her stomach, she looks up at the attentive pair.

“It’s the Red Room symbol.”

Price and Laswell spared each other a hesitant glance before turning back to the woman who seemed to be in some sort of trance as her eyes remained glued to the buckle she’d placed on the bed just a few moments ago.

Laswell decided to speak.

“How do you know it’s their symbol?”

Despite feeling herself tense up at the question, Shadow knew she brought this on herself. The moment she set the emblem on the bed, she practically backed herself into a corner and there was nothing she could do about it.

Well, there were a couple things she could do about it.

On one hand she could come clean about her past and potentially get the chance to aid Laswell in her mission to put an end to the Red Room, but there was also the chance she’d get killed, maybe something even worse than death. Neither Price or Laswell knew the full extent of all the things she’d done in her life and she wasn’t too keen on them finding out, much less telling them herself. Who knows what they could do with such information?

On the other hand, she could just try and leg it out of there in hopes of avoiding any further questions. She didn’t completely hate the idea, but she knew it wasn’t worth the trouble that’d come along with doing such a thing.

Having eliminated both of those ideas in the few moments she took to think about them, she knew she had to think of something quick. Nothing that could get her deemed as an immediate threat and imprisoned, but nothing that would raise too many alarms.

She almost cursed herself for revealing the emblem that had been burned into every aspect of her life.

Almost.

She looked up at Laswell, a small sigh falling from her lips as she quickly tried to sort out the story in her head.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

Laswell tilted her head.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’m not part of the Red Room.”

Laswell narrowed her eyes as she pointed to the emblem.

“Then why do you have that and how do you know it belongs to them?”

She took a few seconds to sort out the last few bits of her fabricated story before beginning to speak.

“I kill people for a living–”

“We know,” Price bluntly states, seemingly not bothered by his rude interruption.

The woman fights back the urge to jab her fist into his injured side and instead opts for a pointed look in his direction before continuing.

“–But I don’t work for the Red Room.”

Laswell’s look of suspicion morphs into one of confusion.

“What? But I was so sure–”

This time it’s Shadow interrupting.

“Just because I don’t work for them doesn’t mean I don’t know of them.”

Laswell’s gaze hardens, “Elaborate.”

“Look, the whole purpose of the Red Room is to produce assassins who can execute any and all targets without getting themselves caught. While the targets can be virtually anyone, it goes without saying that a lot of them are political figures.”Price speaks, “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Different people have different political agendas. What may benefit one person may be detrimental to the next. So while one person may hire an assassin to get rid of someone, another person may hire another assassin to ensure the safety of the original target by going after anyone set to kill them. Kind of like a bodyguard.”

“Is this your way of telling us you were employed as one of these bodyguards?”

“Not exactly. I never took work based on politics, I took it based on the paycheck. Whatever the highest bidder wanted, they’d get.”

“And how does this tie in with the Red Room?”

Shadow points over to the emblem, “I managed to snag that off one of Volkov’s girls while trying to protect my target. I hadn’t seen it before so instead of killing her, I knocked her out and took her back with me. I managed to get a few details I think you may be interested in before I eventually had to get rid of her.”

Laswell straightened out her posture as she looked at Shadow with great interest, “What details?”

Time to strike.

“Details you won’t get until you can promise me a few things.”

Laswell scoffs, “You do realize you just admitted you’re an assassin, right? You’re in no position to be making demands of any kind.”

“Normally you’d be correct, but seeing as how you won’t be able to connect me to any crime as little as shoplifting I think your hands are a bit tied at the moment.”

“And how can you be so sure of that?”

Shadow’s gaze settled back on the hourglass shaped emblem that represented all the pain and suffering she’d inflicted on the world.

She hated it.

She hated herself.

She looked back at Laswell, willing herself to be more brave than she felt.

“A part of me always knew there’d be a time where I wanted to get out. I didn’t want anything to hold me back when I got the chance, so I always made sure things were perfect, that no one could ever prove anything.”

Laswell nods before speaking once more, “And why is it you think I can give you an out?”

“You want the Red Room gone and at this point I think I’m your best bet. You lay off me and I’ll help you take it out.”

Shadow watched with bated breath as Laswell and Price exchanged each other looks of apprehension and hesitation. She could only hope she played her part well enough.

After more than a few moments of them staring each other down, Laswell turned back to Shadow with a particular glint in her eye she hadn’t quite seen before.

“Tell me what you have in mind.”

The woman was ripped away from her thoughts by the loud laughter of a man. She whipped her head to the direction it originated from and was met with the backs of two men hunched over what she assumed was a phone. Letting out a small sigh, she grabbed her iPod and water bottle before deciding to stalk off in the direction of the barracks in hopes of finding an empty room she could claim for the night.

The woman tapped her fingers on the glossy surface of the desk she sat at with Price and Laswell the day before as the lively notes of ‘The Blue Danube’ composed by Johann Strauss plays through her earbuds. She’s gotten to the conference room fifteen minutes early and seeing as she now had nothing better to do than wait, she pulled out her trusty iPod and tapped shuffle on her classical playlist. Despite classical being most of what she listened to, she did have a few other playlists containing various other genres such as pop, jazz, hip hop, and rock. She was simply raised listening to classical so that’s what she often favored despite more than a few pieces having been tainted due to the unpleasant memories she’d come to associate them with. Even so, she still managed to enjoy every song she listened to.

As the last few notes of the composition died out in the left earbud currently lodged in her ear, her eyes shot up to the sound of the creaky door to conference room opened to reveal a tall man clad in an all black outfit paired with a skull print balaclava with black warpaint swiped around his eyes. He paused as he caught sight of the woman already sitting at the rounded table while she simply stared him down with a blank expression. He gave a quick glance to the room number printed on the door and upon confirming he was in the right place, he slowly stepped in and closed the door behind him before taking a seat across from the woman. Once settled down he returned her blank stare with one of his own, almost willing her to say something.

But she didn’t.

She simply looked back down at the small black music player in her hand as she scrolled through her list of songs. After a few more moments of silence, she looked up to see the man idly tapping away on his phone.

The two of them settled into a rather tense silence filled with unanswered questions, one that was only broken by the sound of the door creaking open yet again to reveal another tall man who sported a grey cap that had a Union Flag patch sewn into the front of it. Her eyes roamed over his lean frame that was clad in a long sleeved grey shirt paired with khaki cargo pants and black shoes. It faintly reminded her of an old photo Price had shown her of himself. She watched as he grabbed a seat that was one over from the man who arrived just a few minutes prior. After all three of them exchanged silent glances, they directed their attention to their own devices.

Just a few minutes had passed before the door opened once again, this time revealing Price who had a small stack of manila folders in his hands whereas Laswell carried a laptop. Upon seeing their superiors enter the conference room, the three strangers quickly tucked their electronics into their pockets as Price spoke.

“Glad to see you lot are getting on well with each other,” He remarked, sarcasm practically dripping from his voice.

The three of them avoided making eye contact with each other causing him to shake his head in mild amusement as he handed them each a folder of their own. Upon getting to the empty chair, he spoke.

“Where’s Soap?”

Soap?

Suddenly, the door practically bursts open and a prominent Scottish accent breaks through the room.

“Sorry I’m late, got caught up at the mess hall!”

The woman’s gaze turned to face the direction of the door once more as her eyes landed on a muscular man with a mohawk.

“Settle down Soap. Just take a seat,” Price spoke as he tossed a folder to where the unoccupied seat was. Her eyes followed the man as he quickly walked over to the empty chair and nabbed himself the seat. His eyes settled on the folder in his hands before looking up and facing the woman. Expecting him to redirect his gaze like the other two, she maintained eye contact but was surprised when he offered her a wide smile. She tried to reign in the look of confusion she was sure was apparent on her face before breaking eye contact and opting to stare down at the folder, effectively missing the way the man’s face fell at her actions. Her attention, however, was quickly redirected once Laswell began to speak.

“Task Force 141, meet Shadow. Shadow, meet Task Force 141.”

TAGLIST: (if i missed anyone or it didn't tag you properly, please let me know!)

@deadpoolsluvrr @simonsbluee @scaredknight @swissy23 @niawritesbs @ethanhawkelovers-blog @watermaylon-writes @ravenhood2792 @shoxji @griimreaperr @galacticstxrdust @cptmaverick-marvel @comedinewithmeyeh @fluffysteampunkd @callmenoiselul @isissakibbs-blog @urfavsunkissedleo @decaffeinatedmom01 @23victoria @silveroak-art @untoldshortsofthefandoms @deadbranch @ella-error505 @water-hemlock18 @abbiesxox @queen-of--roses @kiriki45 @desxr-fx @emrzennn

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yonduismarrypoppins · 11 months

Text

‘Mother May I Sleep With Danger, Please'.....

Summary: Bucky and the reader have gone undercover.

Photos aren't mine, credit to the og owners

Tiltle from ‘Mother May I Sleep With Danger?’ By Joy Crookes

Warnings: reader is black, reader is wearing a dress and has a back tattoo, she/her pronouns, Bucky drinks a glass of whiskey, the longest fic I've ever written, no y/n used, weird nicknames, google translate Russian, ending is abrupt bc I couldn't think of any ending that wasn't me stealing from someone else, speaking of which; inspired by @buckyalpine ‘s fic

A/N: thanks to @webinurcloset for proofreading

I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO REPOST OR TRANSLATE AND REPOST, THIS IS MY WRITING!

I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MAKING THIS 18+ CONTENT. MOVE ON MINOR.

You were the newest addition to the avengers, quiet, solemn but hardworking nonetheless. You had been living in the tower for a month now, not a soul but you had seen the inside of your apartments. Every dinner, meeting and mission you stayed silent save for the occasional ‘hello’ ‘thank you’ and ‘goodnight’. The other Avengers didn't make a big deal of it, knowing how anxiety can affect a person especially a newly appointed avenger.

You had not yet been approved for missions so you spent most of your time in your room, but the few times you were spotted around the tower or the compound you wore loose black sweats and a scarf around your hair. The only visible parts of you being your face and part of your neck, the parts of you they could see they appreciated. They weren't very concerned about the rest of your body, knowing most of them were covered in scars, some more inclined to hide them than others.

Everyone expected that to change, especially once you were approved for missions. The week had finally come. They were given the option to watch from the balcony as you were examined in the training gym. As Tony hadn't finished your ‘Hero Suit’ as he called it, you were given a SHIELD issue suit. Unsurprisingly it covered more of your body than your sweats did, with a high neck, gloves and a hood. Though your silhouette was certainly visible, Steve's blush made that clear. You had undeniable skill easily mastering each and every weapon handed to you, easily defeating over a dozen SHIELD agents.

You were called into a meeting shortly after your approval, along with Sam, Natasha and Bucky. You walked in to see the three spy’s spread about, sat around the long metal table. You were surprised at Steve's absence, deducing that this mission was to be more covert than usual. You were told by Maria Hill the nature of the mission, surveillance, which came as no surprise to you.

After a long silence caused by one of Sam's ‘jokes’, you wondered if you all would be sitting in a van together for hours. Maria quickly began to discuss the details of the mission. You and Bucky would be infiltrating a gala, set to happen the next day hosted by a man named Anatoli Volkov at his private residence in New Hampshire, one of his many properties.

He had been suspected of human trafficking and many other dirty dealings by the FBI for years, only falling under SHIELDS radar after one of the girls he had ‘allegedly’ kidnaped was found in a Hydra facility barely breathing 3 years later. She thankfully survived and was able to give some information on how she ended up there, including Volkov’s name.

Maria gave you the files on yours and Bucky's undercover identities; Ukraine and American born spies, respectively, over a dozen confirmed kills, married in 2015... You stopped for a moment, eyes reverting back to that last phrase, a couple, a married couple. Feeling Bucky's eyes on you, you kept your expression as neutral as possible before continuing to read on. After the briefing you briskly made your way to your room, grabbing a bottle of your favorite drink from your fridge.

You thanked whoever designed this building for allowing everyone to have their own apartments, two to a floor with the only exception being Wanda and Vision.

Their apartments have been merged so they now have the floor to themselves.

The moderately sized units were outfitted with a kitchen with a small dining table, a small living room along with a television, bathroom, small walk in closet and bedroom. As well as the F.R.I.D.A.Y. ai wired throughout the building.

You had put more time into decorating than you originally planned but overall, you made a home for yourself. You only had to leave when you ran out of food, for training or for laundry and other chores. After a few hours sitting in your bed, memorizing the blueprints for Volkov's house and every given detail of your new identity F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s startled you out of your focus, notifying you that someone was at your door.

You opened your door to Bucky holding a black garment bag and a medium sized shopping bag in his right hand with a large black box in his left.

“Hill wanted me to give you these” he handed you the two bags, “and Tony finished your suit”

You weren't necessarily surprised at his arrival, considering you two shared a floor it made sense for him to be the one to deliver the items to you.

You thanked him quietly, reaching out to grab the box. It was heavier than expected. You gave him a small smile before closing the door. The heat in your cheeks suddenly became quite noticeable. You hoped quietly that the melanin you were so grateful for covered any hypothetical redness.

As you passed the windows on the way to your bedroom you noticed the dark night sky, you hadn't realized how late it was. You hung up the garment bag on the hook you had placed outside of your closet door, placing the bag and your new suit on the bed. You made your way to the bathroom to take a shower, the warm water calming you as you reflected on the events of the day.

You had been trying to befriend your fellow Avengers but your anxieties prevented you from being outgoing. You had grown closest with Bruce, as he could relate to your fears. You stepped out of the shower commencing your skincare and body care routine. After you finished you went to grab the garment bag, trying on the gown to ensure it fit with the black heels they'd given you to go along with it.

You quite liked the ensemble, but you weren't quite thrilled to wear it in front of the rest of the Avengers. You took it off returning the items to their previous packaging before putting on your night clothes and getting in your bed. You fell asleep searching for hairstyles to wear to the gala on Pinterest.

You dreamt of Bucky that night, how he might touch you with his large hands, one warm flesh, one cool metal , how he might look at you with gorgeous and piercing blue eyes, how he might love you with all of that and everything in between.

__________________

The Next Morning

You awoke earlier than normal, 4:56, a habit you'd had since adolescence when you were anxious. You changed into your workout clothes, black sports bra, leggings and the lulu lemon jacket Natasha had gifted to you when you first arrived. You made your way to the restroom where you pulled your hair back into a ponytail. Putting on your favorite pair of red sneakers before leaving.

Making your way to the elevator, Bucky's apartment door opened. You stopped in front of the elevator doors, turning to watch him. He turned around and made eye contact with you, after a few minutes of still silence you spoke, “going down?” he shut his door and answered with a smile, “yea”.

He stood beside you as the doors opened, he raised his hand allowing you to enter first pressing the gym floor button as he turned facing the closing the doors. You smiled down at the elevator buttons as Bucky adjusted his position so he wouldn't crowd you, something he often did unintentionally due to his large stature.

10, 9, 8.. The small screen changed as you descended the floors. “Thank you for bringing me the stuff for the mission.'' Bucky smiled, the most he'd ever heard you speak.

6, 5… “Of course, how'd you like your suit?” your suit, you'd forgotten to try it on last night. You didn't even open the box, “I haven't put it on yet” “no rush, I was just curious” he shrugged “its ok, I would be too” you both smiled.

4, 3. The doors slid open, you exited first heading for the women's locker room so you could use the bathroom. Glad to find it empty, you were in and out spending most of your time at the sink washing your hands and examining everything that just happened in the elevator. After finding one too many reasons to be embarrassed you left the bathroom and entered the gym, heading right for the open floor to stretch.

The gym was just as empty as the locker room, save for Bucky, you decided to go light today. Loosen yourself up before the mission just to avoid being sore. You finished before Bucky did, he was on the pull up bar as he had been for the 7 minutes before then, you'd spent that time admiring his muscular back looking away when you began to feel a gathering wetness in your underwear.

You left just before the morning gym rush arrived, taking another shower in your room and putting on your usual sweats and scarf before getting some fruit to eat in front of the tv where you sat for the next few hours.

You looked at the clock, 5:00. You were set to leave at 6:30.

You quickly got up, making sure you packed everything you needed to style your hair and do your makeup. You grabbed the garment and shoe bag along with a black purse with hardware that matched your chosen jewelry and a black scarf made with the same material of the dress to cover your shoulders. You made sure you had everything you needed before running to the elevator, heading to the top floor to board the quinjet.

You arrived first, much to your surprise, allowing the SHIELD agent piloting to pack your things into the built in storage compartments. As you sat down, Sam, Nat and Bucky arrived with their clothes and other supplies in tow. You looked back down over your thighs to make sure you put your seatbelt into the right clip. When you looked back up they were walking to their seats Bucky choosing to sit next to you

“Hey doll” he said with a small smile, “hello” you replied quietly. Sam and Nat sat across from you both. Suddenly a SHIELD agent, who appeared to be quite out of breath ran up the ramp. He stopped in front of you handing you a small black box, “the wedding rings mam” he said exasperatedly. You thanked him before he nodded and ran back out. You opened the box to two simple wedding bands, one thicker than the other and a diamond ring, one you might have chosen for yourself if this was real. You held out the box to Bucky before he reached for the thicker band, placing it on his ring finger before you did the same.

You noticed the rings were not new, with small nicks and marks. An important detail, especially if you were going to be surrounded by people as observant as you. You made a mental note to fake a tan line on yours and Bucky’s fingers later. The pilot cut through the silence on the intercom, announcing the beginning of the flight.

You landed in the SHIELD port shortly after as the flight was only 15 minutes. You were taken to the car port by another agent along with your bags where Natasha was given keys to a black cadillac escalade. You all stood against the grey concrete wall for a second, watching as the agent packed your things into the trunk of the car you looked at Bucky to your right, admiring how his jawline was accentuated by his man bun. You were sure you might have gaged at the bundle of hair on anyone else but on him you couldn't help but fawn over it. He looked down at you with a grin, making you look forward again embarrassed, glad to see the agent was finished.

Nat drove to the hotel where you would be staying, pleasantly surprised that it was an actual hotel and not a dirty highway motel like some of the other Avengers had been made to stay in. You and Nat packed all of your things onto a luggage cart while Sam and Bucky checked you all in.

“You should tell him you like him, you know, he likes you just as much.” Natasha says suddenly, you look up at her with shocked eyes “what?” you ask quickly, voice wavering. She flashes a grin at you, “Nothing, sorry”

You pushed the luggage cart into the lobby where Bucky and Sam were waiting by the elevator, you struggled slightly to push the cart into the elevator, Natasha and Sam attempting to help you on the other side. “I'll help you doll”. He moved behind you, placing his hands just above yours. You felt his warm body push into yours as you stumbled in with the cart. You turned to face him as the doors closed looking into his eyes for a moment, you cleared your throat, breaking eye contact and speaking quietly to ask “which floor?” he smirked “penthouse, doll” you clicked the button watching as it lit up and feeling the elevator begin to move.

Bucky was too preoccupied watching you avoid looking at his face to notice the look Sam and Nat exchanged, one of pride and cunning, it was only a matter of time.

Nat and Sam left your coms on the desk before going across the hall to their room. You used the master bathroom to get ready while Bucky used the half bath. You had finished your hair and makeup but were struggling to close the dress, the satin buttons proving hard to reach. You stepped out of the bathroom calling for Bucky, “what's up doll” he stepped out of the bathroom fixing his suit cuff, you were pulled into a trance admiring how he looked in the black suit, his bun making him look even more mysterious.

“Doll?” you snapped out of it. Not realizing he had moved closer to you, “what do you need, sweet girl?” he spoke softly, you swore that his pet names would make you spontaneously combust. “I need help with my dress, I can't get it closed.” You turned your back to him so he could start closing the buttons. He quietly admired the art tattooed on your back, it was beautiful, elongating your back with its elegant design. With every brush of his hands on your skin you became more and more flustered thanking whatever deity was looking down on you when he announced he was done, you turned to face him again “You look great doll.” Bucky said with a smile, your eyes flashing in between his eyes and chest a few times before you spoke up, “I'll just grab my bag and we can go”

You made sure you had on all of your jewelry, including your wedding rings, your bag, your scarf and your com before you told Bucky you were ready to go. You stepped out just as Natasha and Sam did, donning their driver and bodyguard outfits respectively. The elevator trip was much less awkward, Sam even managing to make a joke that you all laughed at.

You all walked to the car, you and Sam moving to the right and Nat and Bucky moving to the left. Nat and Sam got in the front seats of the car while Bucky opened the door for you, you slid to the seat on the other end so he wouldn't have to circle the car to enter. Sam pulled off just as he shut the door. You had been staring absentmindedly out of the window when you felt Bucky grip your hand and pull it towards his chest. You turned your head toward him, making no movements as you had no intention of pulling your hand away. As he turned the wedding rings on your finger you wondered again what it would be like to be loved by Bucky.

The drive was short, you arrived ‘fashionably late’ as Sam called it at 8:15. The estate was gorgeous, elegant and large but not overbearing. It rested on a large piece of land surrounded by forests and greenery.

“Ladies and gents we have arrived. I'll circle to the entrance to drop you two off and we'll park a few blocks away.” Sam said, while his tone was gleeful you heard the underlying worry in his voice. Bucky walked out and around to your door, reaching his hand around to help you step out. “Don't forget to turn on your coms.” Nat added quickly as you Bucky closed the car door.

Bucky moved his arm around your waist to guide you up the stairs of the extravagant mansion, the doors opened to a gorgeous ballroom, warm lighting, brown tones and old school jazz music coming from the live band in the corner. Just quiet enough to feel like a background song to a memory. There were plenty of people, criminals you assumed. All well dressed in browns, blacks and creams.

You admired the dress of one woman while Bucky walked you to the bar, keeping you close. He ordered himself a whiskey neat. One of the perks that come from being a super soldier on missions, he can drink normal alcohol with no consequences because it has no effect on his body. Discovering his inability to get drunk has given Bucky the opportunity to drink whiskey for the flavor, he has become a bit of a connoisseur post freedom, his current favorite being Bushmills Black Bush Whiskey. You ordered a ‘Shirley Temple’, not necessarily feeling like drinking alcohol. You moved to sit on the bar stool facing away from the bar while Bucky stayed standing on your right side waiting for your drinks.

The bartender handed Bucky your drinks when suddenly you felt a clammy hand on your shoulder, “ну что тут у нас? экзотическая красавица?” (well what do we have here? an exotic beauty?) You looked up at the person touching him, and immediately recognized him as Anatoli Volkov. You wanted to pull his hand off of you and break it but you couldn't do anything to make him suspicious, thankfully Bucky spoke before you did.

“моя жена великолепна, не так ли?” (my wife is gorgeous, isn't she?) he said, putting some obvious emphasis on the word wife. He then wrapped one of his arms around your neck. You reached up to grasp his hand floating hand, pulling it down slightly. Volkov smirked, “I meant you no offense, Mr.?” he said in an amused tone, highlighting his thick accent.

“Joseph Smith and my wife Iris”. Your thumb swiped across his hand as he spoke, your head leaning back into his chest. Anatoli reached his hand out towards Bucky to shake, “it's nice to meet you Joseph, i hope to see you both again” Volkov looked down at you with a sly smirk, Bucky diverted his attention when he reciprocated his handshake, Anatoli's eyes shooting back up to him. “I hope to see you again too” Bucky smiled but his grip tightened, Volkov shook out his hand as he turned and walked away from the both of you. You turned to face the bar taking a sip of your drink, the sweet liquid refreshing your parched throat.

Bucky's arm moved off of you to take a sip of his drink. You turned back to the crowd after downing half of your drink, taking a moment to see how much security was in the building. Eventually you noticed at least 8 men in all black suits, all of whom had repeatedly talked to the same man in a dark blue suit. He had been shadowing Volkov since you arrived, you noted.

Suddenly Bucky grabbed your knees, pulling you to face him and moving your legs around his waist, with one hand you gripped his wrist and with the other you stabilized yourself on his shoulder. Your hand slowly moved up his arm as he pushed his hand up into your dress clutching and rubbing at your ass and thighs. “gray suit 2:00, he might have made us, i'm not sure.” you barely brought yourself to tear your eyes away from his face to look at the man in question. He was standing in a corner watching the two of you, finally looking away to reach into his pocket to answer his phone. You tried to read his lips but were quickly distracted when Bucky pushed his head into your neck, your hand flying to his neck carefully holding his head.

“Think we should go?” he said into your ear, you cleared your throat “we don't have anything on Volkov yet, we should wait.” he grunted in response before pulling his head out from your shoulder, only moving one of his hands to reach for his glass of whiskey again. You looked up at him, wondering how he can manage to make butterflies turn in your stomach while staying completely calm, you hoped that your flustered behavior wasn't tipping off the other people in the ballroom. You looked back at the jazz band when the music ended, quietly clapping before Anatoli walked on stage. You immediately rolled your eyes, wanting to zone out but knowing that if you did you'd likely regret it. You reached to take a sip of your drink, reminding yourself as to why you hadn't ordered something alcoholic when Anatoli began to speak.

The whole speech was in Russian, he thanked his guests, boasted and bragged but still delivered no useful information. Fake laughter coming from all sides of the room. You had zoned out a bit, listening to the heavenly jazz band on stage once again until you felt a hand on your neck. Bucky grasped both sides of your face with both of his hands, tilting your head up to look at him, he chucked when you hesitated to look him in the eye.

He held his forehead against yours brushing your lips against each other before speaking again, “Somebodys watching us, doll.” He smirked when he finished using his hands to push your head in the direction of the man in the gray suit once again. You looked back at Bucky before aiming your head down.

You took your hands, taping the inside of yours and Bucky’s ears discreetly before moving them around his neck. You spoke quietly, “Nat, do you copy?” there were a few seconds of static before a response came “Copy kitty-girl, what's going on in there?” you smiled at the nickname, reminded of the night you and Nat had snuck Alpine out from Bucky’s room to put her in the animal Falcon costume. “We're all good but maybe not for long, we’re being watched.” “Alright, get out of there. We'll be at the front waiting.” You heard her call for Sam to start the car before you looked at Bucky in the eye again, nodding subtly.

He moved his hands from your face, grabbing your bag from the bar before lifting you off of the stool, you let a small gasp escape you. Before you could process the action he was pulling you across the room to the entrance, when you reached the stairs he placed an arm under your shoulders and the other under your knee, the action made you squeal and you in turn made him laugh. You felt like a princess, or at the very least a main character in a rom com that was not deemed relevant enough to have Bucky watch yet.

You were sure that anyone witnessing the interaction would simply think you two were a happy couple eager to get home after a long night of tension.

He placed you down to open the door to the large van, lifting you into your seat before sliding in himself. Sam begins to open his mouth to speak when you put a finger over your mouth in an effort to quiet him. You look through your purse finding a bug in the open interior pocket and a tracker handing them to Natasha, she hands you a bug detector. You took Bucky's hands to make sure there were no other devices before doing a quick sweep over his body and yours, after finding nothing you say “alright, we're clear”. Natasha smiles when you hand the bug detector back to her, noticing that Bucky hasn't taken his eyes off of you and you haven't let go of Bucky's hand.

It's done, I'm done, sorry if this sucks.

Taglist:

@floriidakilos @zendayassimp @itsyagirljaz

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes concept #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x black reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #leo writes again

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siilvan · 3 months

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Desideria – I

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Pairing: Yuri Volkov/Mylène "Petra" Scholten de Ridder

Summary: Second meetings and first chances.

Genre: General, light angst, light fluff, fem!oc

Warnings: Semi-proofread, cursing, references to canon-typical violence, not much going on this time tbh

Word Count: 3k

Note: I got halfway through the next chapter of Bloodsport and rewarded myself with more self indulgent oc stuff... Bit of a shorter chapter than I wanted, but oh well (●'◡'●)

As always, very special thanks to my beloveds @sofasoap, @nrdmssgs, and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot for their endless encouragement and support <3

"Lively group we've got here." Mylène comments, her narrowed gaze slowly dragging over the other people in the room.

Gathered were the remnants of the one-four-one. All but the pair of bright-eyed, effervescent siblings currently lying in hospital beds. Everything feels darker, somehow, like the sun had been eclipsed at its peak. The thought weighs heavily on those who remain, the silence at first only being broken by the sounds of fabric shuffling as people shifted their weight and the occasional quiet grunt or cough.

"You're lookin' lively yourself, Lt." Kyle is the second one to speak up, his eyes meeting hers from his spot leaned against the wall.

The hospital was charitable enough – or, more likely, Laswell had pulled some strings to 'convince' the staff – to leave a private meeting room empty for the group to gather.

"Okay, we're not going to get anywhere if we don't address the elephant in the room." Laswell interrupts the awkward banter with a low exhale. She's stood at the front of the room with her arms crossed tight over her chest, the tension in her muscles readily apparent to the other woman. "We're not in a good position right now. We're two down, out of leads, and out of intel on Makarov's next moves."

"Very hopeful start, Laswell. You should try being a motivational speaker." Kyle snorts, silently surrendering when her hard stare directs itself at him.

"Kyle." Price's unimpressed and, frankly, exhausted voice lightly scolds the sergeant. Kyle was the most bubbly one in the room, especially given how his only competition was Laswell, Price, Simon, and Mylène – all of whom look to be on the verge of snapping for different, yet related, reasons.

"Do we have anything at all to work with, Kate?" The captain shifts his attention back to the liaison; one of their only allies at the moment.

She takes her time before answering. Her ocean blue eyes are trained on the large, wooden, oval-shaped table in the center of the space, still in pristine condition due to none of them even daring to touch it. "Minimal resources." She starts, pausing to wet her lips. "As you all know by now, we're splitting up to utilize what little we have."

"John, Kyle, you're linking up with Farah's forces to try and gain some intel from within Urzikstan's borders. Ghost, you and Riot are heading to Mexico to follow up on a lead from Colonel Vargas." Laswell continues, taking another pause to meet the remaining lieutenant's mismatched eyes. "You've got a special assignment, Petra."

"So I've heard." Mylène huffs, her tone dry as her arms lift to cross over her chest.

"One of the few leads we have at the moment is on a smuggler – chemical weapons." Laswell states.

"Connected to the agents Konni Group's been drooling over since General Barkov was taken care of?" Mylène's eyebrows knit together, trying to recall any names of known smugglers. A few come to mind, none of which were reliable or still functional, but she mentally files them away nonetheless.

"Exactly that." Laswell nods, sliding a flash drive across the table, right into the other woman's waiting hand. "We don't have a name, just locations of the trades we've been able to confirm. The contact I got this from has already agreed to help with every step of the investigation."

Mylène turns over the USB stick in her hand, eyeing it curiously. "The contact, is it Colonel Volkov again?" She asks, turning to Laswell once more as she safely tucks the flash drive away.

"How'd you guess?"

"Vrag moyego vraga - moi drug." She echoed his prior words, the ones he spoke to the two women back in Arklov Base. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

The older woman lets out something of a chuckle and cracks a smile for the first time since she arrived. "Nikolai agreed to provide transport, at least for linking you up with Yuri. He'll be picking you up in about three hours."

"Three hours— why do none of you give me more time to prepare?" Mylène shoots a pointed look towards Laswell and Simon specifically and turns to walk out, but stops dead in her tracks before she can even take a single step towards the door.

"Someone should be staying with Johnny and Freya. They're still targets, even here." She says, sending the group a wary glance.

Riot was hovering over the siblings' bedsides at the moment, hence why she was missing the meeting, but she'll be leaving with Simon before the end of the day. They'll be left alone. Someone needs to stay with the two, just in case.

"We've already got that covered."

Mylène quirks a brow at Laswell's assured statement, until she hears the door behind her open and close with a soft click.

A tall, broad figure is standing in front of it, dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a black hoodie with the hood lowered, showing off a head of messy dark brown curls. A set of forest green eyes stare back at her, the rich color standing out against the dark circles under his eyes and the long, jagged scar running down the left side of his face. It starts just above his eyebrow and disappears into the black surgical mask he's wearing, giving some air of mystery despite her knowing exactly what exists underneath.

Emiel Scholten de Ridder. Nightfall.

To others, he may be an imposing character, but to Mylène, he's just her little brother. Well, little in age.

"Finally staying in one place for more than a few days?" She draws him into a tight hug with a gleeful smile on her lips.

"Seems like it." He chuckles into her hair, returning the hug for a few seconds. "She decided to pull me off my last assignment and station me here to keep an eye on things."

"I wanted the best on the job." Laswell clarifies, earning a confident nod from the younger woman. "Nightfall will stay in the hospital as long as Soap and Mini are here. They'll be safe." She adds and meets Mylène's gaze once more.

"If there are no more questions, then I'll let you get prepared."

"None at all, Watcher."

⋆⋆⋆

The heavy blades of the helicopter are a welcomed sight, whipping up a light breeze that blows the loose strands of hair framing Petra's back as the vehicle descends.

She wastes no time in approaching it and sliding the side door back, stepping up into the cabin. The door shuts behind her with another heavy thud, leaving her standing in a UH-60 Black Hawk so familiar that she might as well call it her second home.

"Good to see you in one piece, Mila!" Nikolai calls out over his shoulder. Petra turns to flash him a smile, carefully setting her backpack against a wall before coming up to the cockpit.

"Thought Makarov took me out of commission, too?" She hums, calmly settling in the co-pilot's seat next to his.

"You? Of course not." He laughs, hearty and full of life. It was refreshing after spending so much time in the hospital. "I am just happy to see you doing well, my friend." He adds once the laughter dies down, the helicopter taking off just as quickly as it had landed.

Petra shifts in her seat in anticipation for the longer flight. "I'm assuming we're not meeting Colonel Volkov at Arklov Base again?" She asks with a soft laugh of her own.

"Unless you are willing to brave sarin gas, then, no." Nikolai comments. "He's in Zaporizhzhia."

"Zaporizhzhia?"

"Melitopol, to be exact." He clarifies, intentionally slowing his speech and harshly pronouncing each syllable with a cheeky grin.

"Fucks sake, I know what it is." She huffs, ignoring his amused snort as she shakes her head. "What's he doing in southern Ukraine?"

"Waiting for us, probably." He shrugs with the sarcastic response. "Did Laswell send you in with any information on this op?"

"Yeah, actually, thanks for the reminder." Petra jumps up from her seat and shuffles over to her bag, unzipping it and pulling a tablet out. She plops down in her seat again after a moment, scrolling through the pages of intel that she transferred from the flash drive that Laswell gave her before she left.

Like she said before, it was mostly locations of confirmed trades between the yet-unnamed smuggler and Konni Group. There was an attempt at pinpointing his home base, but the locations were too scattered all over the map to centralize them. Unsurprisingly, a decent amount of the trades happened in Eastern Europe – they already knew it was Konni Group's playground, though, so it gave her nothing about the smuggler himself.

"Maybe he knows something that we don't." Petra mumbles, half to herself and half to the pilot. "The next deal could be happening in Ukraine." She adds.

"Suppose we won't know until we talk with him." Nikolai comments, earning an affirmative hum from her. A second passes before he speaks again. "When was the last time you slept?"

She blinks, her gaze flitting up from the screen and landing on him. "What?"

"Sleep? The thing most people do at night?" He explains, completely ignoring the way she rolls her eyes as soon as he starts. "When you close your eyes and dream of handsome pilots who always come through to help you in your times of need?"

"Having romantic dreams about yourself again, Nik?" She quirks a brow at him. "And, I'm fine. I slept—"

She cuts herself off, her lashes fluttering as she blinks a few more times. Her eyes drop to the tablet sitting on her thighs, unfocused on the screen as it slowly darkens before shutting itself off.

"...Some time recently." She mutters after a few seconds.

"We'll be up here for a while, you will have plenty of time to agonize over those files after we land. Get some rest while you still can, Mila." His voice softens, the previous humor in it dissipating and making room for a genuine concern that she only heard in certain moments.

Still, she argues. There was just too much for her to do. "But, I—"

"My bird, my rules. Get some rest." Nikolai replies without missing a beat. He doesn't even look at her while giving the command, nonchalantly glancing over a few gauges and dials like it was natural for him. Well, it was probably as natural as breathing at this point.

With a sigh comparable to that of a child getting sent to bed, she concedes. "Fine, just wake me up before we land." Petra shifts and gets into a more comfortable position, the tablet forgotten on the panel as she semi-awkwardly curls up and eventually finds a way to drift off into a light sleep.

⋆⋆⋆

The telltale sound of the helicopter descending is what wakes her up, eventually. Petra rubs the sleep out of her eyes before it touches down and hurries to grab the tablet, maneuvering back to her backpack and shoving it inside.

"Melitopol, safe and sound." Nikolai announces, stepping out of the cockpit after shutting everything down.

"Didn't doubt you for even a second." She slips her backpack on with a slow exhale and follows the pilot out onto the tarmac.

The sun was starting to crest over the horizon, spilling a healthy balance of oranges, reds, yellows, and pink hues all over the sky above. The location they had landed at was some sort of base – not necessarily military, judging by the lack of a uniform… well, uniform, amongst the few people gracing the small airfield. Mercenaries, she assumes.

"So, where are we meeting him?" She asks, carefully examining her surroundings.

"Right here, if that works for you."

Petra turns when she hears the familiar voice, gravelly and rich, and sees the man himself approaching them.

"Colonel Volkov, always good to see a friendly face." She greets him, stepping forward to meet him and holding out her hand.

"Please, there is no need for formalities." He chuckles, shaking her hand far more gently than she was used to. "Just call me Yuri."

"Yuri. That works for me." A bright smile flashes across her face as his name leaves her lips.

It's right then and there that something in the back of the colonel's mind changes, begging him to only have his name spoken that way from now on. Spoken by her. He tries to ignore that feeling, especially as the other Russian in the group catches his attention.

"Yuri, my brother." Nikolai shares his own cheerful greeting with the man, one that’s eagerly reciprocated as the two hug briefly.

"It's been too long, my friend." Yuri comments, patting his shoulder one last time as the two part.

"You two have known each other for a long time?" Petra quirks a brow at the pair as Yuri starts to lead them to a car nearby. He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket – he’s in civvies, she realizes. Dark jeans and a navy blue windbreaker, with the collar of a simple black shirt peeking out from underneath – and tosses them to Nikolai.

"Something like that." Nikolai slides into the driver’s seat after catching the keys. The other two circle around to the passengers’ side, where Petra reaches out to open the door for herself. Yuri beats her to it, though, and he holds the door open while she slips into the backseat. He sits in the front, leaving her to lean forward and poke her head between the two men.

"So, where are we heading from here?" She chirps, realizing but refusing to admit just how much that short nap on the helicopter helped her. For the first time in weeks, she feels like she has some energy.

"South, past the border." Yuri replies, his low voice rumbling right next to her ear.

Wait, what? "The border? We're heading into Crimea?"

"I am assuming Laswell gave you the information I delivered to her." He continues, turning his head just enough to meet her confused gaze. "The smuggler working with Konni Group isn't the one we are going after, since he hardly shows his face for these trades, but the man who facilitates most of the deals should be here for an upcoming one."

She hums. "When is it?"

The car pulls onto a road after leaving the base, quiet and mostly vacant of any other vehicles as the light of the sun slowly begins to fade from the sky. Moving in the dark. It's smart. Petra had already sat back in her seat before reaching into her bag, lazily dropped next to her. She fishes her tablet out, deciding to give the information a thorough scan, unlike her cursory glance in the helicopter.

"Three days from now. Not sure what time." Yuri mutters. "I have my own contact coming into town tomorrow to assist. FSB."

"FSB? Are you sure they can be trusted with this?" She huffs, raising her brows again as she looks at the side of his face.

He makes a small sound, akin to a curt chuckle. "Trust me, he is reliable. He's bringing information on our broker and claims to hate him just as much as we do."

"Do we even have a name for our target? Laswell couldn't give me one." She blinks, wracking her brain again for any known smugglers.

He shrugs, the quiet rustling of fabric his only answer for a brief moment. "We will tomorrow."

Petra accepts his response with a nod and a muted sigh. The drive to the border would be at least another few hours, and she was sure that crossing it would end up being some elaborate scheme to avoid detection by the border patrol. In any case, she buries her nose in file after file while Nikolai chats the other Russian's ear off.

At one point during the drive, already over an hour in, the pilot was spinning some recent tale about his nebo that she halfway tunes in for. Her eyes flit up after he says something about her "kicking his ass" and, after a low snort that she denies when he points it out, her gaze drifts to the rear-view mirror. Curiosity, the instinct to check the road behind them without making a scene, some random desire to look at herself – she isn't sure what motivates her to do it, but when she meets a pair of steel blue irides in the reflection, she freezes.

Yuri, in his silence only broken by muttered "oh's," "ah's," and quiet hums whenever Nikolai badgered him enough for a response, was eyeing her in the mirror.

And, here she was, meeting his gaze and staring back just the same. They already had a moment like this once before: at Arklov Base, before the missiles hit and disrupted the meeting Laswell had stolen her away from her team for. There was some kind of energy, a spark, even, that seemed to keep drawing their attentions back to each other, even with a woman discussing a potential world war brewing or a man actively attempting to steal the show right next to them.

She would deny the faint shiver creeping down her spine, just as he would deny the subtle electricity beneath his skin forcing him to flex his hands. They break eye contact at the same time, with his moving to the road ahead as hers drops down to her screen once more.

There is one thing Petra can tell already, as she quietly raps her fingers against her thigh and attempts to distract her mind. This mission is going to be more trouble than it's worth.

Vrag moyego vraga - moi drug. (Враг моего врага - мой друг.) - The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Mila - Slavic diminutive of Mylène

Nebo (Небо) - Sky

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halobirthdays · 8 months

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Happy birthday to Vice Admiral Preston Cole!

Today is his -447th birthday!

Cole was born on a small farm on Earth, as one of seven children. At a young age he demonstrated signs of being a prodigy, but this would prove to hinder him more than help him. While he was a hard worker, he was frequently accused of cheating due to his excellent testing record, and the lack of a challenge lead to disinterest and faltering grades. When he graduated high school, he lacked the grades or connections to go to a military college, so he enlisted in the UNSC in the traditional way, as a crewman.

When an ensign gave Cole his slipstream coordinates to calculate for him, Cole demonstrated his intellect by not only performing the calculation, but formulating a better way to do it. This caught his superior officer's attention, who recommended him to Luna OCS Academy. During his time there, he was involved in a scandal around Inna Volkov, the daughter of Admiral Konrad Volkov. Inna gave birth to a son, who's father's identity was unknown, but believed to be one of six cadets at Luna OCS, including Cole. While Cole was not the father, he nevertheless married Inna two months later, though there is disagreement as to his motivations. Despite this incident, Cole would go on to graduate magna cum laude. Cole and Inna would have more three children, but he rarely saw his family once the conflict with the Insurrection began to spread.

Cole would prove to be an incredible strategist, lauded for his unusual and highly successful tactics and hailed as a hero in the UNSC. It would come at great personal cost, with his estranged wife filing for divorce in 2500, and withholding contact with their children.

While on leave a year later, he met a bar owner named Lyrenne Castilla, whom he married a short time later. While Lyrenne was pregnant, the UNSC discovered she was actually a high-ranking Insurrectionist leader whom he'd faced off with before. His relationship with her would attract scrutiny, and while he narrowly avoided a court martial due to the efforts of Admiral Stanforth, the Bellicose, Lyrenne's ship, was alleged to have been lost at the Battle of Theta Ursae Majoris (though it would mysteriously reemerge twice more in Cole's life).

With his spirit broken and his loyalties called into question, he was reassigned to a desk job on Earth, with a quiet promotion and offer of retirement to follow shortly after. He accepted, and faded from public view, with the exception of his messy, highly-publicized marriages and divorces with much younger women. His health began to fail, with many of his vital organs needing to be replaced through flash cloning.

With the outbreak of the Human-Covenant war, the UNSC found itself in an unprecedented position against a much more powerful enemy, and were desperate for leadership after the loss of Harvest to the Covenant. The UNSC tapped Cole for reenlistment, both for his mind and because he was an easy scapegoat if the counter-attack failed. As the war was underway, Cole's fleet would suffer heavy losses but ultimately won every major battle against the Covenant that he was involved in. In 2530, the UNSC was finally able to capture a living Sangheili and interrogate them about the Covenant's motivations. As the prisoner spewed religious dogma, Cole realized that the Covenant did not actually know at lot about humanity.

To keep this advantage, he implemented what became known as the Cole Protocol--a widespread policy meant to prevent the Covenant from finding the location of Earth. The Protocol forbade fleeing vessels from retreating to Earth or any human colony. If fleeing was impossible, the crew was to destroy the ship after wiping all data. This would prove to be a scourge on the Covenant, slowing their advance.

Cole's battles would take him to Psi Serpentis, where his fleet would face off against a Covenant fleet of over three hundred ships. Despite being significantly outnumbered, Cole was able to repel the attackers until and additional fleet of two hundred arrived to provide support. Realizing that he lacked the firepower to defeat the reinforcements, Cole taunted the Covenant fleet to lure them in before he had his forces attack the gas giant Viperidae. The resulting explosion killed the entire Covenant fleet, and likely Cole. Unless:

An investigation into Cole's actions just before the destruction of Viperidae revealed curious behavior. First, Cole contacted the Reach super-AI network to assess the possibility of a slipspace jump in conditions exactly like the battle of Psi Serpentis. Additionally, before the battle, he made major changes to his crew, possibly to ensure that anyone stationed with him would remain loyal if he ordered the slipspace jump and deserted to a quieter life.

For those who believe him dead, he was honored and remembered as one of the UNSC's most prolific war heroes, but those who believe he is alive hope he can be convinced to join the UNSC again to guide them through the post-war world.

If the rumors are true: In canon (~2560), he is turning 90!

#please read the impossible life and probable death of preston j cole #it is even crazier than i was able to summarize #its also just a fun little dive into one of the UNSC's heavy-hitters #preston j cole #halo lore

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moongirlwidow · 6 months

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Anon Box Status: strike 1

Hey all, my name is Vera Volkov Heladottir(-Banner?)(I don’t know and I’m scared to ask), aka the Winter Widow, I use she/her pronouns. I’m a vigilante, Avenger, Mercenary, SHIELD consultant, 1/4 of the Avengers PR team, intern to Dr. Bruce Banner, and the bane of every man’s existence. I’m going on seventeen and just finishing up my junior year of Highschool and am starting my bachelor’s degree this summer as a double major in psychology and photography

Outside of my work, I’m a figure skater, ballerina, and photographer as well as an aunt, girlfriend, and sister. I’ve co-written some papers with my mentor, and love fantasy books, Bridgerton, and Six of Crows

Red Room File

My family

Mother — @goddessof-death

Father — @imnothulk (no he isn’t married to Mama, that’d be fucking weird)

Sisters — @mysister-isstillaposer @blackwidow-nat-official2 @unofficial-non-poser @wandabug @nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol @pietros-wife @vanessa-vostokoff @becca-barnes-official

Brothers — @white-wolf-actually @peterparker-official

Partners — @midtown-braincell-holder @definitelynot-peterp4rker (yes I’m poly, yes they know each other, we literally all live together, be polite)

Aunts — @queen-loki-laufeydottir @fully-official-carol-danvers @capt-carter-mostly-official @vpotts-official

Neiflings — @little-lady-cecily @little-jamie-carter @jonny-do-shifty-thingy @iyla-difransisco @azalea-romanoff

Blog Rules:

— No nsfw stuff

— no racism, sexism, homophobia, anti-semitism, Zionism, etc.

— do not, for the love of god, ship the teenagers with the adults(looking at you,

Starker)

- trans rights are human rights

— stand with Palestine

— stand with Ukraine

#the winter widow #vera volkov #marvel #marvel mcu #marvel oc #marvel rp #marvel ask blog #the red room #red room #red room mcu

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novapark · 23 days

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Izan's BC Update

Just a quick update so I don't accidentally go over my limit while I'm adding sims to my game.

Josephine Hoffman

2. Adalyn Haynes

3. Julep Volkov

4. Invisible Queen's sim (They gave me options, still deciding but they have the files ready)

5. Sebastian Rios

So that's two slots left. Thanks ya'll. This is super exciting, I was hoping to start this weekend but I wasn't sure if I'd get traction that quickly. I'm keeping the contestants in a seperate house right now so I don't spoil Izan's first impressions. Anyway, thanks a lot!

#ts4 #IzansISBIBC

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anjumzm · 3 days

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Midsummer Night

A Legacy of Gods Fanfic

JerCes Daughter x LanMia Son

Chapter 2

Theodore Sokolov King

I'm bored.

Literally and figuratively.

I'd expected the little bird to come out of her gilded cage after I left her hints pointing her in the right direction. God knows how I need my daily dose of chaos and what better way to initiate it than to rile up the Volkov princess, I want to see her out of her element, see her 'goody two shoe' image shatter, but it seems like I'll have to wait for a while before that happens now.

How boring.

Guess that's what being genuis does that to you, when it becomes so easy to want something and achieve it, in a manner that might look impractical to most of the folks around you, but you make it seem easy.The only competitors I have around are my cousins, namely Sean King, Uncle Eli's son, and the other being Dominic Sokolov, Uncle Bran and Uncle Niko's son, although I wouldn't consider the latter a competition considering our fields of excellency are poles apart.He's a known name amongst the Bratva, while I mostly keep to my domain of business, although I do like to get my hands dirty now and then. There's Jasper too, Uncle Creighton's son but since he's the youngest King heir, he's also the one who's most protected and looked after, to the point that no one on UK and US grounds would dare breathe wrong his way, fearing our collective wrath. I would never cross a line with the above fuckers, coz one thing that's been engraved in the mind of every King is:

Family above all.

Which is why everything is getting boring for me.

I've known that I was different from other kids since my childhood. While most of the kids my age struggled with basic mathematics I'd solve complex math problems within minutes. Be it series of domino puzzles, decrypting messages and riddles or learning new languages I could do it all. Although my parents,would be proud of my achievements and always flaunt them in front of their peers, deep down I know they were disturbed because of my detached nature. I cannot process emotions like others do.I once heard my Grandma talk to my Mom about how I inherited my father's aloofness, lack of empathy and his narcissist tendencies. I watched my mother's face fall as Grandma said that "If Landon was able to overcome his nature and become the loving husband and Father he is today, I'm sure our Theo will do the same"

But that's the problem, I cannot see the lack of empathy and emotions as a vice, rather it's my biggest asset. It makes me be over cautious, over calculating and the results are infront of us allA stronger empire than before commanded by a headstrong, handsome genuis with holier-than-thou personality. I've added more allies, more assets in my 3 years as the vice president than my COO Dad or CEO Uncle did in their inital years as leaders, a fact that's been praised by the Legends Aiden King and Levi King , my Granduncle and Grandfather. The same can be said about my cousin Sean, but he's been a few points back since the last ruckus he caused, and now I'm left to deal with the consequences.

Which brings me to the current issue, the stealing or more like taking the files containing deets on Mr.Williamson, the one who's been a thorn in our way since the Sean incident. Motherfucker thought he could blackmail The Kings. Seems like he has suicidal tendencies.

While I'd been planning and contemplating about ways to bring the fucker to his knees, opportunity came walking towards me in the form of Dominic Sokolov and his big mouth. During one of our ranting sessions, he might've slipped up this tidbit information about Volkovs having dirt on him and protecting him in return of some alliance bullshit.

What I'm if not an opportunist?

After rigorous planning, plotting and planting spys within the Volkovs fort I successfully got the data drive.I was planning to use my triumph card over Williamson, but than Aanya Volkov happened. I saw her speak at the Bratva meeting first time, eyes ablaze, hands twitching as though she wanted to strangle me to death and that's the most entertainment I've got in nearly 5 years, you see there's something alluring about breaking ones carefully and meticulously built good image. I've known her since my childhood due to her relations with my Aunt and Uncle creighton wife, Annika Volkov who also happens to be her Aunty, not to mention she's my little sister's best friend.

I'd seen her around the mansion but she would always keep her distance from me, as any sane person would.But then I learned something, which makes me believe that her soft spoken nature, all bright and pure is just an image.

Just like me, something sinister lurks within her too.

While I keep my beast at my shoulder, proudly on display for all to see, she's been taming hers from a long time.And I'll be damned if I let it be dormant any more.

I'll bring out your demons Aanya, even if I have to drag myself through your personal hell.

Time for my demon to meet yours.

#rina kent #fanfic #landon king #brandon king #aiden king #levi king #jeremy volkov #cecily knight #mia sokolov #nikolai sokolov #elsa steel #royal elite series #rinaverse #eli king #ava nash #adrian volkov

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mariacallous · 7 months

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On November 17, the Russian Justice Ministry announced that it had filed a lawsuit with the Supreme Court demanding that the “international LGBT movement” be banned as an “extremist organization” in Russia. The agency failed to explain what exactly the “LGBT movement” is, who leads it, or how it’s structured, but it claimed to have identified signs of an “extremist orientation” in its workings. The Supreme Court is scheduled to consider the request on November 30. Meduza has compiled some of the initial reactions to the suit from prominent Russian journalists, politicians, and bloggers.

Valery Fadeyev

Chairman of Russia’s Presidential Human Rights Council

What LGBT movement? Is this a movement, an organization, that exists in Russia? That what my initial thought. We’ll have to look at the details of this lawsuit and see what we’re talking about here.

Yekaterina Mizulina

Head of the Safe Internet League

This means a serious barrier will be imposed against values that undermine Russia and destroy our identity. I want to thank the courage and professionalism of our law enforcement officers, Justice Ministry specialists, and Safe Internet League experts who helped prepare this historic event. We’re making progress.

Farida Rustamova

Independent journalist

The Russian Justice Ministry invented the “international LGBT public movement” and is now trying to ban it. In practice, this will likely mean they’ll be able to jail someone for having a rainbow flag on their social media avatar, for example. That’s the kind of electoral campaign Putin is running as he approaches his fifth term.

Leonid Volkov

Politician, Alexey Navalny associate

And so it begins: Putin’s “electoral campaign dedicated to traditional values” that we were promised, with Russia portrayed as a “family of families.”

Well, to be precise, it started a bit earlier, when they suddenly launched their anti-abortion agenda from all directions. Now is the second step. The fact that there’s no “extremist LGBTQ+ organization” is of no concern to anyone, of course; Putin’s political strategists need the image of an enemy that the elderly president can confidently defeat, and as a bonus, all Center E branches will get the chance to fabricate as many criminal cases as they want and receive promotions.

Ksenia Sobchak

Journalist and media figure

EVERYONE has finally fucking lost it. It’s just unbelievable.

We’re really going to find ourselves in the same league as North Korea, the Taliban, and Hamas pretty soon.

Yevgeny Popov

Deputy chair of the State Duma Committee on Information Policy, propagandist

The details of this lawsuit are not very clear, and, of course, we can’t predict what decision the court will make. So let’s refrain from speculating about it right now, because we’ve begun discussing even the rainbow openly and publicly. Let’s not be absurd — it’s impossible to ban a rainbow, wind, storms, or clouds.

As far as LGBT’s recognition as some kind of organization — let’s look at the explanations, the arguments from both sides. It will be a very interesting legal process. For now, I don’t have an understanding of how it will be interpreted.

Sergey Badashmin

Lawyer

Are they going to declare rainbows “extremist material?”

Maksim Olenichev

Lawyer

LGBT activists will continue their work; after all, there are millions of LGBT people living in Russia. But their work will get significantly more dangerous. The number of LGBT initiatives will most likely shrink, some will go underground, but the work of helping LGBT people will continue — in new conditions and with higher risks.

Sergey Parkhomenko

Journalist

Am I understanding correctly that this international LGBT movement that the Russian Justice Ministry wants to declare extremist and ban is not a specific organization, not a legal entity or an association of people, but just the general LGBT movement, small “m,” with no quotation marks, in its entirety, in all of its forms and manifestations, on a global level?

Or am I missing something, and they mean something or someone more specific?

Georgy Urushadze

Founder of the publishing company Freedom Letters

So you’re telling me that the Taliban can’t be declared extremist, but an entire human rights movement can? [...]

We’ll show them our flag. Along with our middle fingers.

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helloavocadooo · 2 years

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THE LEMONADE SAVE V3.0

A few bugs can’t keep me down!

Before I get into what’s changed, a quick primer on what this save is all about: I wanted a diverse save with all the drama we got back in the Sims 2 days. I call it the Lemonade Save because the Sims 4 is lacking in all that. When EA gives you lemons, you make lemonade.

Here’s what’s new/updated:

Updated ALL sims with body hair, sexual preferences, and pronouns.

Made over Moonwood Mill and Copperdale sims & added new families. All new families have relationships (good and bad) with existing sims.

Tweaked existing sims using new in-game assets.

Added new townies.

As always, this save only includes new and updated sims. The builds are untouched. Due to how The Sims 4 culls relationships, some of the the relationships I created may go poof eventually unless you use a mod that corrects this.

The save is completely cc-free and uses these packs:

DOWNLOAD : sfs | mediafire (no ads ever)

Back up your existing saves before installing. To install, just place the save file into your Sims 4 Saves folder. This save fills slot 9099 so hopefully it won’t overlap with any of your existing ones. If it does, just rename it.

Look for the save called LEMONADE SAVE V3.0 when you open the game to play.

@maxismatchccworld @public-ccfinds @vanillafinds (thanks!)

Just want the new sims? There are direct links under the cut.

#ts4cc #mydl #save file #vanilla save #black simmer #black simblr

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punchdrunkdoc · 1 year

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Part 2, Chapter 10

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

This is a longer chapter than normal...because lots of sh*t goes down!

Enjoy!

————–

PART 2

Chapter 10

Yelena jumped off the counter and stalked towards Volkov. “How?” she barked. “How are they tracking us?”

He just smiled.

Her hand shot out and she backhanded him viciously across the face. His head snapped back, but when he faced her again, that damned smirk was still in place.

“HOW?”

The smirk stretched into another savage smile. “Project планктон.”

“Project Plankton?” Yelena translated, sounding confused. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Volkov didn’t answer. And for the first time since he’d stepped foot in the mansion his unflappable countenance faltered. His smiled slipped and he frowned.

“Answer me!” Yelena demanded.

He didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes rolled back in his head and he started jerking and twitching against the restraints.

“He’s seizing!” Sofia yelled. She ran over to him and shone a pen-torch in his eyes, flicking the light back and forth.

“He’s faking,” Kira said.

“No, Melina warned us this could happen.”

“Stabilise him,” Yelena barked at the medic. “We still need answers.”

“No, we need to get out of here!” Inessa objected. “You heard him!”

“And go where? They’re tracking us somehow.” Yelena turned to Anya. “Is there anything about Project Plankton in Dreykov’s files?”

Anya was already scrolling through her ever-present tablet. She didn’t look up from the screen as she bit out a quick, “I’m on it.”

The Widows crowded around her as she searched through the terabytes of information she’d spent the last few months decrypting. “Got it. There’s a single reference to Project Plankton in a memo from 2013. It was a theoretical nanite programme one of the scientists suggested to Dreykov.”

“Theoretical?”

“Well, it was theoretical when this memo was released. Maybe it became practical in the years since, and Dreykov kept it off the books.”

“Nanites?” Calina asked. “As in nanotechnology? That’s well beyond theoretical now. It underpins all of Tony Stark’s latest Iron Man machinery.”

Katya started rubbing her arms. “And they’re inside us? These nanites?”

Anya finally looked up, her face grave. “Do you remember the injection they gave us all after Yelena disappeared? They must have realised they needed another way to keep track of us after she managed to dig out her chip.”

“How do we get them out?” Calina asked, trying to resist the urge to scratch at her own arms. The though of still having Red Room tech inside her was making her feel nauseous.

“We can’t dig them out, that’s for sure,” Anya said. “There’s a reason it was called Project Plankton. Plankton are tiny organisms carried around on tides and currents. The nanites are in our blood.”

“Can we block the signals?” Calina asked.

“For one of us maybe, but not all of us. Not unless we had a jammer the size of a Buick.”

“Fuck,” Kira spat. “So we’re stuck with them?”

“I didn’t say that,” Anya replied. “I just said they couldn’t be dug out. But there is a way to remove them. It’s mentioned in the memo: plasmapheresis.”

“Plasma-what?” Yelena said.

“Plasmapheresis,” Sofia repeated, using her medical knowledge to explain to the group. “Plasma exchange. You remove a person’s blood, circulate it through a machine which filters out the plasma and anything harmful that’s present in it - in this case, evil little robots - and then the blood is returned with a substitution fluid.”

“Is it safe?”

“Yes, but the bigger question is, how the hell are we going to find a plasmapheresis machine before Volkov’s men find us?”

“That’s your new task,” Yelena ordered. “Calina and Anya, help her with anything she needs. The rest of you start implementing lockdown protocol. I want this place turned into a death trap for any motherfucker who comes looking for Volkov.”

———

Calina tightened the strap on her thigh holster and then checked the clip in her gun. The weapons were just a precaution, in case they ran into any of Volkov’s men. The actual mission was a quick in-and-out bit of grand larceny. Anya had found a private clinic just over the border in Georgia that offered plasmapheresis treatments.

And they were going to rob it.

“Keep in contact,” Yelena ordered, as Calina, Anya and Sofia finished arming themselves. “I’ll send a text every 30 minutes. If I miss a check-in, you’ll know the mansion is compromised, so stay clear.”

“No,” Calina said. “We’ll haul ass back here to provide reinforcements.”

“No, Calina. We need at least some of the group to be safe. In case any of us are captured, we need a team to mount a rescue. From a new base, with no nanites in their system.”

“Has there been any progress on the new base?” Katya asked from her seat at the dining table. She was rigging up a set of trip-wire devices that would be planted in the garden outside.

“We’ve found a place to rent. The money’s been wired, we’re just waiting on confirmation from the broker. Its in Maine, so I hope everyone likes lobster.”

“We’ll finally be living the high life,” Katya joked - or tried to. There was too much tension in her voice to make it believable.

Calina powered up her phone, ready to receive Yelena’s check-ins. But it started ringing 30 seconds later.

Anya groaned. “You have to do something about that. Now.”

Calina nodded and slipped out the front door. She took a deep breath and hit the answer button. “Matt, you need to stop calling.”

“Calina? Thank God,” he breathed.

It had been less than 48 hours since she’d heard his voice, but she’d missed the deep rich sound so much. It made her long to be back in his apartment, sat in the armchair next to him as they talked about books and courtrooms and everything and nothing.

Was this what homesickness felt like?

She buried the feeling. And the grief at the knowledge that it would never be like that between them again. “Matthew,” she said firmly, her voice as cold as she could manage. “Please stop calling. I need this phone line open and I need radio silence for the next few hours.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on? Are you in danger?”

At that moment, Anya, Sofia and Inessa exited the front door. They jogged passed Calina, and Anya called out to her over her shoulder. “Calina, we need to go! Get your ass in the van.”

“I have to go,” she said to Matt. “Stop calling. I mean it.”

“Wait-”

She hung up. Then stared at the device. A part of her - a small, hopelessly hopeful part of her - wanted it to ring again. She wanted some proof that Matt would keep fighting for her. Some proof that his incessant calling had nothing to do with guilt, and everything to do with love.

But the phone stayed silent.

She ignored the irrational pang of hurt. All it meant was that he was respecting her wishes - especially since he thought she was in danger.

She slipped the phone into one of the pouches on her belt and joined her team mates. Inessa was their get-away driver. She looked ridiculously tiny behind the wheel of the large transit van but she backed out of the driveway and onto the main road with ease. Within minutes they were speeding down the highway towards Augusta.

They arrived at the clinic a few hours later, long after the staff had gone home for the night. Inessa parked a block away and the four of them scoped out the street, checking for CCTV cameras and assessing the level of foot traffic.

“Does anyone else feel guilty about stealing from a medical facility?” Inessa asked from the front seat. “People are gonna arrive for their treatments tomorrow and be turned away.”

“The anonymous $100 000 donation I just made into the clinic’s checking account should lessen some of the pain,” Anya replied.

“Okay. That makes me feel better.”

Calina smiled. It made her feel better too. But she couldn’t help teasing Anya. “Shouldn’t you have waited until after we stole the machines? What if it goes wrong?”

Anya shrugged. “Then our last act as free women will have been one of charity.”

Anya’s off-hand remark went down like a lead balloon.

Free women.

None of them were really free. Even now, there was probably some lackey in Volkov’s ‘faction’ monitoring 4 green dots on a screen and wondering why they’d taken a detour across state lines. That monitoring - that subtle, distant form of control - meant that none of them were truly free.

Their lives would never be their own until they got rid of the tracking devices.

“Let’s get this done,” Sofia growled, echoing Calina’s thoughts. “I want these fucking things out of me as soon as humanly possible.”

The other three women nodded.

Then they went and got it done.

———

At a few minutes after midnight, Anya took a seat next to one of the machines. She was the first one to undergo the procedure.

And she hadn’t volunteered.

None of them wanted to be first - and not because they doubted Sofia’s medical knowledge or were worried about the process. No one wanted to go first, because as soon as they were cleared of the nanites, they would have to leave the compound and start making their way to Maine. They would have to leave their sisters, while the threat of Volkov’s men descending on the mansion grew more and more imminent.

It was Yelena’s plan, and she wasn’t budging on it.

“Sofia says it is going to take 2-3 hours for each exchange of blood,” Yelena had explained to the group as they’d sat around the large dining table. “There are 15 of us in the compound. I don’t have nanites in my system, so that leaves 14 of you to be treated. Even using both the machines that we stole, its going to take more than half a day to treat everyone. Which means, we’re at real risk of not being finished before Volkov’s men arrive.”

“All the more reason why we should stay after we’re treated. Stay and fight,” Kira objected.

Sofia jumped into the debate. “There’s a risk of side effects from the procedure. Dizziness, nausea, low blood pressure, muscle spasms, and more. Not ideal for a combat situation.”

“We need to establish the new base,” Yelena continued. “Like I said to Calina earlier, we need Widows who are free of trackers who can come rescue the rest of us if the worst happens. If we all stay here and fight, we might all lose - especially if you guys aren’t in top form from the procedure.”

“But-” Katya began.

“No,” Yelena said firmly. “This isn’t up for a vote, or even a discussion. There’s no time.” She paused to look at the women around her, and Calina could have sworn there was a hint of tears in Yelena’s eyes. “I know you guys think I’m too controlling sometimes. And too bossy. But I care about each and every one of you. I want us to survive.” She met Calina’s eyes. “And I want us to thrive, and be happy. That can only happen when we’re truly free. This is the best way to get that freedom.”

She’d received several nods of agreement in response. But most of the women around the table just looked resigned, their tight lips and frowns expressing their displeasure.

They’d pulled straws to determine the order of treatment, and that was how Anya - and another woman called Viktoria - found themselves being hooked up to the machines as the other widows watched.

Viktoria was done in just over two hours. Anya took a little longer - more plasma in her system, according to Sofia. But by 3am, the two of them were nanite-free and on the road heading north.

And another two Widows took their place by the machines.

This process repeated itself throughout the morning. As more and more Widows left, the mansion got quieter and quieter, and the tension felt by those left behind ratcheted up higher and higher. The clock on the wall of the make-shift med bay ticked louder and louder, the noise acting as a constant reminder of the passing of time.

Time they didn’t have.

By midday, there were only six widows left in the house, and each one of them was painfully aware that Volkov’s men could be battering down the doors at any moment.

Sofia calmly disconnected Inessa from one of the machines and helped her to her feet. The smaller woman swayed and clutched at Sofia.

“Are you okay?” Calina asked. She was next up in the chair, one of the last two Widows to be treated.

She’d drawn the shortest of straws, but she hadn’t complained. The Widows were a team - and they were all working towards the good of the whole group - not any one individual. It didn’t matter that she had people that she cared about back in New York - like Alma, her elderly neighbour. And Foggy and Karen.

And Matt.

It didn’t matter that she had more of a ‘life’ to save than the other Widows. She was just one of 15 today.

And it wasn’t like she was planning to return to that life anyway.

Inessa straightened up and waved off Calina’s concern. “Yeah, just a bit woozy.”

Calina nodded and took her seat. She’d already unzipped and pulled down the top half of her Widow suit, leaving her in a black tank top. She stuck her arm out and Sofia got to work inserting the cannula. The medic had gone through her own procedure hours ago but had stayed to make sure everyone else got treated properly.

Katya was sat next to her, finishing off her own plasma exchange. She gave Calina a smile. “Hey, Calina, how’s it going?” she asked, as if they were grabbing a drink at a cafe.

Calina laughed at Katya’s attempt to lighten the mood. “Not bad. You know, apart from having had only five hours sleep in the last three days.”

“And apart from finding out you have tracking robots in your blood,” Katya added.

Calina continued the game. “And apart from knowing that a strike team of Red Room operatives is about to descend upon us at any moment.”

“You guys are hilarious,” Yelena mumbled sarcastically. She’d been prowling from one side of the room to the other for hours, her head buried in a tablet which was linked to the security feeds from the exterior of the property. A stockpile of weapons was laid out on the table behind her, and every so often she would grab a gun and pace with it in her free hand.

She was wound tight. And obviously not in the mood for humour.

Inessa laughed though, in between gulping down a litre of water. Evidently, plasmapheresis made you thirsty. Kira was the last of the six, and she was guarding Volkov while she waited for Katya to finish and free up her machine.

Volkov had recovered from his seizure but they hadn’t resumed his interrogation. Melina had advised against dosing him with any more of the serum, and between arranging the new base, securing the old one, and treating the Widows, none of them could spare time to torture answers out of him the old-fashioned way. The plan was to take him with them when they left, and resume his questioning on the road.

“You’re done,” Sofia announced to Katya half an hour later.

“Good,” Yelena said. “Katya, you and Inessa grab your things and get out of here.”

“Nope,” Katya said. She zipped up her suit and tightened the bands holding her tightly curled hair in place.

Yelena straightened up. “What do you mean, ‘nope’?”

“Inessa and I already discussed it. We’re not leaving the four of you here alone. You’re going to need firepower if Volkov’s men arrive in the next few hours, and even if they don’t, you’ll need help securing Volkov in the van.”

“Katya-”

“No, Yelena. You and Calina risked everything to get me out of Seoul and save me from the serum. I’m not going to leave you both behind.”

Calina could tell by the firm glint in Katya’s eyes that she wasn’t going to back down. Yelena could obviously see it too. “Fine,” she said, relenting. “Go down to the basement and relieve Kira. Tell her to get her ass up here stat - she’s the last one in the chair. Inessa, grab your weapons and take watch upstairs.” She passed an earpiece to each of the remaining Widows. “All of you, stay on comms and stay alert.”

“Got it, boss.” Inessa scampered out the room and Katya followed behind her.

Yelena glanced at the clock and checked the clip of the latest gun to have made it into her hands. Calina’s own weapon was in her lap, and she had to resist the urge to clench it in her hand like a scared child with a security blanket.

“It’s going to be alright,” Calina said.

Yelena scoffed. “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”

“Okay, maybe not. But if the worst happens, just know that you tried your best, Yelena. You gave us a home, and kept us safe, as best you could.”

“Says the woman who abandoned that home the minute she could.”

Calina sighed. “I don’t want to fight about that again, Yelena.”

Yelena rubbed her forehead. “I know. I’m sorry - blame it on the stress. For what its worth…”

“What?” Calina prompted.

“For what its worth, I’m glad you got those few months of happiness. Even though it didn’t work out, I’m glad you got to try.”

Calina gave her a small, sad smile. “I’m glad too.”

The two women fell into silence…and watched the second hand of the clock tick and tick and tick.

———

The warning came 90 minutes later.

Inessa’s voice crackled over the comm line. “Five blacked-out SUVs spotted on the coast road. They’re coming this way - fast!”

Yelena jerked upright. “Shit! Here we go. Sofia, where are we on the treatments?”

She checked the two machines. “Calina’s receiving the last of the plasma substitute. Kira…Kira still has two pints of blood left to clean.”

Yelena hooked a sniper rifle over her shoulder and barked out her orders to the three women in the room, as well as the two listening in on the comms. “Kira, you stay hooked up to that machine as long as you possibly can, you hear me? We’ll try to buy time. Sofia, as soon as Calina is done, disconnect her, then you stay with Kira. Inessa, head to the basement - help Katya get Volkov to the van. Calina will cover you when she’s able. I’ll be on the roof.”

“On it,” came Katya’s reply.

“Heading down now. ETA on the strike team is 2 minutes,” Inessa updated.

Yelena ran out of the room. The moment the door closed behind her, Calina started tugging off the tape holding her cannula in place. “Get this thing out of me,” she hissed to Sofia.

“No, you need to finish,” Sofia said firmly.

“Are the nanites out of my system?” she bit back.

“Yes, but you need the rest of the plasma transfusion. If you stop now, your blood volume will be low and your blood pressure could plummet.”

Yelena chimed in over the comms. “Listen to her, Calina.”

“No. I’ll take the risk. I need to be out there providing backup.”

When Sofia still didn’t move, Calina took matters into her own hands. She yanked out the cannula. The plasma substitute in the tubing started leaking on the floor but Calina ignored it. She got to her feet, bracing herself on the arm of the chair as her head swam.

Sofia curse under her breath and grabbed some gauze to stem the blood leaking from Calina’s arm. “Stubborn zhopa,” she muttered, as she taped it into place.

Calina slipped her arms into the top of her suit and zipped it closed. She primed the Widow’s bites on her wrists, slotted her gun in her thigh holster and grabbed one of the semi-automatic rifles from the weapons cache. Then she paused in the doorway. She looked back at the other two women in the room and gave them a tight nod. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” Kira replied.

“We’ll see you in the van,” Sofia said.

Calina nodded again then took off running. She could hear the distant crunch of gravel as the cars barrelled up the long driveway. Then a muffled pop-pop-pop, as Yelena fired on them from her sniper’s nest on the roof. She must have hit a tire, because there was the sound of a crash as a car spun and collided with something.

Five SUVs, with four-to-five men per vehicle, meant a strike team of at least 20. Possibly 25.

Not the worst case scenario. Six Widows could easily take them on.

But one of those six was still hooked up to a plasmapheresis machine. One was standing guard, and another two were securing an asset.

That left just Calina and Yelena.

Two Widows to stem the tide of two dozen aggressors.

Calina reached the second floor and used the butt of her rifle to smash out the glass from the small window at the front of the property. Then she crouched down, her sights fixed on the bend in the driveway - the bend the convoy would be rounding any second now.

She took a deep, calming breath, and tried to ignore the slight dizziness the action caused.

Two against 20.

Piece of cake.

———

“KATYA, INESSA, ARE YOU IN THE VAN? DO YOU HAVE VOLKOV” Yelena’s shout was barely audible over the gun fire. She’d taken up a spot a few windows down from Calina after sniping the men fleeing from the crashed vehicle. They currently had the occupants of two of the other SUVs pinned down at the front of the mansion, but the whereabouts of the other two cars - and the teams of men inside - were unknown.

It was worrying Calina...but not as much as their immediate situation. There were eight men outside exchanging gun fire with them. At the moment they were trapped behind their cars - nowhere to go but into a spray of bullets.

But Calina and Yelena were running low on those.

“Negative!” Katya responded. “There are at least ten assailants in the house. They’re between us and the garage.”

Shit. The missing teams had infiltrated the mansion somehow.

This was bad. Very bad.

They needed to get out of there.

Now.

“New objective,” Yelena yelled. “If you can’t extract Volkov safely, kill him. Your freedom is the top priority.”

“Got it.”

Yelena swapped her gun for the tablet and updated the other Widows on what the footage showed. “There are three men in the kitchen, two have entered the living room. Two are coming upstairs to us and the rest are heading towards the med bay.”

She tossed the tablet to the floor, holstered her gun, then called across the room to Calina. “Cover me. I’m going to deal with these assholes out front.”

“What?” Calina yelled. “How?”

Yelena hooked her leg out the window frame and winked at Calina, “Trust me.”

Then she disappeared.

Calina laid down covering fire as Yelena hit the ground and rolled, but within seconds her rifle clicked empty. But it didn’t matter - the men weren’t firing on Yelena. They started chasing her instead as she bolted around the side of the house. They must have been under orders to retrieve rather than kill.

Calina threw down her rifle and prepared to follow Yelena out the window. But just as she grabbed the sides of the frame there was a massive explosion outside, and the blast wave rocked the house. The ceiling rained plaster and all the glassware in the ornate display cabinet to Calina’s left shattered.

“What the hell was that?” Calina shouted down the comms.

“Someone must have tripped the mines I planted,” Katya yelled. Then grunted. A thud sounded, then there was the familiar crackle of a Widow’s bites.

“It was me,” Yelena responded. She sounded slightly winded. “I led those idiots right through the tripwire. I’m on my way to the medbay.”

“I’m coming too,” Calina called. She jumped out the window and hit the gravel below. She absorbed the landing on bent legs and rolled to soften it, but she still felt a jolt through her recently injured knee.

“You’ll have to go through the house - the path around the side is nothing but flames now,” Yelena said.

“Understood.”

Calina unholstered her gun and slowly eased open the front door. She swung into the foyer, gun outstretched as she cleared the four corners of the room.

Empty.

She made her way - crouched and silent - through the next door and into the living space.

Not so empty.

Two men in black combat armour and grease paint were at the far end of the room. She shot the closest one in the head and he dropped to the ground in an instant. The other spun and fired at her. She dove to the ground behind the sofa. She felt a bite of pain in her side as she landed, but ignored it. She could hear the man stalking towards her so she detached one of the taser discs from her wristband and slid it across the oak floor into his path. Bolts of neon blue lighting erupted from the device and latched onto the mans right leg. He seized as the voltage pierced through his body.

Calina jumped to her feet and ran passed him, following the sound of gunfire deeper in the mansion.

“Katya and I made it to the garage,” Inessa said over the comms. “But we lost Volkov.”

“Shit,” Yelena responded.

“It gets worse. We heard him call in for reinforcements - apparently there’s a second wave of strike teams on standby just off the highway. They’re on their way, so you guys have to get out of the house NOW!”

Calina raced down the corridor and rounded the corner at the end - where she almost collided with another assailant. She ducked under his swinging arm and pounded her fist into his side. They exchanged a volley of hits and kicks in the narrow space, Calina falling to the ground after a brutal punch to the face. But she used it to her advantage - she grabbed the knife from her boot and struck upwards, impaling the man in the gap in his armour between his abdomen and thigh and puncturing his femoral artery. He collapsed to his knees and she followed up with a stab to his neck. He hit the floor face first and she crawled passed him and staggered to her feet.

Her cheek was throbbing and her her knee was on fire. She was also getting more and more light-headed, and she assumed she was feeling the effects of her aborted plasma transfusion.

She staggered down the hallway just in time to see the last of three assailants crumple to the floor in a pile of his slain teammates. The sound of gunfire coming from the medbay in front of him stopped, then the yelling began.

“Kira, no!”

“Yes. You have to go!”

“What’s going on?” Calina asked, stepping over the bodies and into the room. Three women whipped around to face her. Sofia looked distraught. Yelena looked angry.

And Kira looked…sad. “Calina,” she said. “You have to get out of here. Take these two and RUN!”

She was still hooked up to the machine. Which meant the treatment hadn’t finished. Calina realised the implications straight away and she met Kira’s eyes with horror.

Kira nodded. “I still have the nanites in my system. If I go with you, they’ll track us. If I run on my own, they’ll find me.”

“We’ll come for you, you know we will,” Yelena pleaded. “We’ll-”

“No, Yelena. I won’t go back to them - even temporarily. I can’t do it. I won’t.”

Inessa’s voice came through the comms. “You guys have to leave NOW! We’re in the van on the coast road - head out back and down the hill and meet us there. The second wave are coming up the driveway. They’ll be there in seconds. MOVE!”

Kira unhooked herself from the machine and grabbed the belt of grenades from the table of weapons. She pulled the pin on the first one and held the trigger. “I’m letting go of this in 90 seconds, Yelena. You’re either in the house when that happens or not - you decide. But I’m not leaving.”

Yelena paused for a split second before nodding. She grabbed Kira around the neck and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. Then she turned and ran. Sofia quickly followed.

Calina lingered for another moment, her eyes locked on Kira’s.

She didn’t know the other Widow well - they were different ages, and went through training at different times. But in this moment, she saw herself in the other Widow. She understood Kira’s decision, and recognised the conviction the other woman felt.

She too would rather die by her own hand, than risk being under someone’s control again.

She nodded to Kira, and received one in return.

Then she turned and fled.

She’d just made it out of the back door when she heard the sound of several cars pulling up to the front of the house.

And she’d just reached the bottom of the garden when the force of the blast wave from the explosion behind her lifted her off her feet.

She tumbled to the ground and rolled down the steep hill that led to the coast road. When she stopped, she heard someone shout her name, the syllables muffled as her ears struggled to recover from the sound of the detonation. She felt a set of hands grab her under the arms and pull her to her feet. “Calina, get up! Come on!”

It was Katya.

She staggered onto the road, held up by the other Widow. The van was idling on the deserted road, the back doors open. She clambered inside and collapsed onto the floor with a groan. The doors slammed shut and then they were moving, speeding away from what remained of their home.

“Is everyone okay?” Inessa called from the driver’s seat.

There was a chorus of positive replies from the three other women, but Calina couldn’t seem to find the strength to answer. She felt…strange…as if she was in a tunnel, the light around her slowly narrowing to a far off point.

“Calina,” Sofia called, panic suddenly in her voice. “You’re bleeding!”

“Wha-?” Calina whispered, struggling to keep her eyes open.

Sofia’s hands came down on Calina’s side and she pressed firmly.

Calina reared up as the shock of the pain jolted her from her daze. She looked down to see the right side of her suit was dark and wet with blood. It spilled from between Sofia’s fingers.

“What’s going on?” Yelena yelled from the front of the vehicle.

“Calina’s been shot,” Sofia answered.

She’d been shot.

She remembered the bite of pain as the man in the living room fired at her.

Then she remembered nothing at all…as the world went black.

———

CHAPTER 11

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