Just a Blast from the Past

Chapter Three

The newsstand man was right. The bank was unmissable. It stood prominently on the street.

Natasha pushed the door and walked inside with quiet steps, her heels tapping the tiles hardly making a sound. A spy habit she had had as far as she could remember. This was why the receptionist who was looking down at his paperwork didn't notice her standing across the counter.

She cleared her throat to make her presence known.

The receptionist, a man in his early twenties, lifted his head slowly and gaped at her sight.

'May I help you?' he asked clearly his throat and rearranging his tie as a nervous twitch.

'Yes,' she smiled more than it was necessary to obtain what she wanted even more easily. 'I wish to speak with the director, Mr. Kent.'

His mouth opened in surprise.

'Of course! Allow me to call him,' he answered quickly whilst he picked up the phone.

'Who shall I announce?' he asked.

She put her arm on the counter as she prepared to recite what had been Fury's instructions.

'Just tell him I would like to discuss the terms of my banking contract.'

The young man repeated her exact words then hung up.

'Mr. Kent is on his way,' he said to her.

She glimpsed at the name pinned onto his shirt.

'Thank you, Peter,' she smiled charmingly, making him gulp as a unique response, then she stepped away.

A few seconds later, a tall and stern man came down the marble stairs and walked up to her. He looked at her with a composed and professional gaze then shook her hand.

'If you want to follow me, please,' he said. They made the same way he had just done before but in the opposite direction. After reaching the top of the stairway, he turned right to a big door.

He reached for the knob then invited her with a polite but mostly reverent gesture to step in first. He waved a hand to the seat and walked around his desk to sit on his thick leather armchair after she sat down first.

He crossed his hands over his desk and leaned forward, looking her up and down as he probably tried to spot a detail that would give out the real purpose of her visit.

'Which terms would you like to discuss exactly?' he asked calmly.

The whole conversation was going just like colonel Fury had described it would. She crossed her legs and watched him intently and with all the confidence in the world.

'Terms 241-a and 573-c. Account number 926547813,' she answered.

Mr. Kent's features changed slightly but much enough for her to notice. His look communicated a completely different type of professionalism as if her words had brought out a second persona that he kept hidden in the dark and would only reveal to his fellow co-workers.

He rose to his feet and walked to the landscape painting hanging on the side wall. He pulled it open like a window and proceeded to enter a combination in the safe concealed in the wall behind.

He pulled an envelope out, closed the safe and put the frame back to its original position. He sat on his armchair again and put the envelope on the desk, gently pushing it over to her with his finger.

Natasha remained still and composed acting like the secret agent she was, even if it was from another time. She took a glimpse at the envelope and evaluated there amount to be of fifty grand by the thickness of it.