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o3.| DITCH YOUR TRACKER

TRANSFERRING NATALIA INTO HIS PLACE WAS A LOT MORE DIFFICULT THAN HE THOUGHT. Even when she was unconscious, he had to think of a way to get her into his house without getting caught by someone. His house was pretty secluded, but he could never be too precautious. After thinking it over for a few minutes, he just said screw it and got out of the truck. Roy walked around the exterior of the truck, before pulling open the passenger's seat, revealing the unconscious Russian.

Her head draped over his arm as he hauled her up to the front door, before kicking it down. Roy glanced around the place, that he had used some of his own wealth to purchase for the mission, before stepping inside fully. The younger Stark walked over toward the large staircase, before climbing them to the second floor. He made his way through the halls, before stopping in the second largest bedroom.

Roy carried Natalia over toward the bed and set her down on the covered bed. Her red hair fell into her face and he stared down at her. How could someone so beautiful be such a pain in his ass?

A huff left his lips, before handcuffing her to the nightstand beside the bed. He then made his way out of the bedroom and back outside to his truck. Roy recovered all of his belongings, before taking them to the rooms they were supposed to go to. He found himself in his own bedroom, falling down against the covers.

His hands covered his eyes as he laid there for a few seconds, trying to think about how he would handle the situation. He wanted to call his brother, but he knew that Tony would only give him some smartass remark, before saying he had to go off and do something more interesting.

But then he thought of his good friend, Taryn.

Roy quickly dialed her number, disregarding what time it would be for her wherever she was. But after ringing three times, she picked up.

"Do you have any idea what time it is, Stark?" Taryn questioned him. "I'm trying to sleep, dammit."

"I have a dilemma," Roy replied to her, and he could hear the girl yawn on the other line. "It'll be quick, sweetheart. I just need your opinion."

"Ugh, fine," Taryn replied. "What do you want help with?"

"You know about the mission that Fury sent me on, right? The one with Natalia?" Roy questioned her, and she gave him a noise for a response. "Well, I found her. But--"

"But you think she's incredibly attractive and you don't want to play executioner," Taryn cut him off, and Roy swore under his breath. He forgot how smart she was. And he hated it. "I'm right, aren't I? I love it when I'm right."

"I know you do," Roy replied. "What do you think I should do?"

"I know that Fury wanted you to call with updates, but perhaps you could ditch your tracker. We all know how much of a pest Nicky can be with those damn things, so just ditch it," Taryn suggest, and Roy nodded his head. "Then you can spend as much time with the woman as you want and try to shape her into the kind of woman you want, even though you probably won't have any luck with that."

"Thanks, you smartass," Roy replied to her.

"You're welcome," Taryn replied. "I'm going back to bed. Unlike you, I have early morning training with the new recruits. Night."

"Night," Roy replied to her, before hanging up his cell phone.

Roy glanced down to his arm, the one that Fury had inserted his tracker in. He furrowed his brows, before eyeing the bathroom. He inhaled deeply, before pushing himself to his feet. Roy approached the bathroom and he brought along one of his bags. Roy dug around in the duffle for two things: a belt and a knife. Once he had them both, he could begin.

He secured the belt tightly on his biscep above the elbow, before allowing his veins to pop out. He stared down at his arm, watching as the tracker was basically forced up against the skin of his forearm. Roy's eyes flickered over toward the knife, before wrapping his hand around the handle. He held it over his arm, before digging it into his skin, digging at the tracker. A groan left his lips as he cut the tracker out, before throwing it against the floor and smashing it with his foot.

The man panted as blood dripped down his fingertips and fell to the floor, and his eyes were drawn back to the wound. He swore under his breath, before removing the belt and began to stitch up his arm. When everything was good and dandy, he could hear the sound of yelling emit from the hallway.

He shook his head as he continued to apply bandages to his arm, before leaving his room. He walked down the hallway, making his way toward Natalia's room, before pushing open the door. His eyes landed on the furious redhead, who was tugging at her handcuffs. When she turned her head, her eyes landed on him. She raised her eyebrows as she raised her hand, showing the cuffs.

"V samom dele? Vy nadeli menya naruchnikami na tumbochku? Kakoy ty chelovek? Khm?" (Really? You handcuffed me to a nightstand? What kind of person are you exactly? Hmm?) Natalia questioned him in her native tongue, which made Roy roll his eyes in annoyance.

"Mne nuzhno bylo ubedit'sya, chto ty ne proskol'znesh' i ne slomayesh' mne gorlo." (I needed to make sure you wouldn't sneak off and slit my throat in the process.) Roy replied to her and she raised her eyebrow, surprised that he knew Russian. The younger Stark locked the door behind him as he approached the Russian assassin, before taking a seat on the bed in front of her. Natalia narrowed her eyes at him as he sat in front of her, wondering what the hell he wanted with her. "My names James, and I'm here to ask you a few questioned. Answer them to my standards, and I'll consider letting you go. Deal?"

Natalia continued to stare at him with skeptisim, which made him sigh. Roy shrugged his shoulders as he pushed himself to his feet and making his way toward the door. Natalia watched as he did, and he turned to face her, before leaving the room.

"Just give me a yell when you're ready to be an adult," Roy said to her, before giving her a smirk. "And I know you won't be able to be quiet."

Executioner's Song ― 𝐍. 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅.Where stories live. Discover now