The door slammed echoing on the cold, concrete walls. The four men's footsteps fading in the distance. Natasha took a deep breath, letting it out as a barely audible sigh.
"Nat? How long?" Clint, her partner asked. He had been waiting for her to relax.
"Since they grabbed me on the mission," Natasha answered. "These guys were behind the abductions, not the cartel," She paused. "I infiltrated the warehouse to get the data and take down the leader. Some of his men dragged me out. They brought me here and started asking me questions about my past missions. The boss recognised me and that's why they went looking for you. As you could see they were hoping to use you as leverage to get answers."
"I watched them blow up the warehouse after they dragged you out."
"How many days?" She asked.
"Three, plus another one?" He replied. "They blindfolded me so I'm not sure exactly."
"They must've kept me out for longer than I thought," she muttered, twisting her wrists slightly to ease the pressure on them. "I've only been awake about 12 hours, like this."
"You've been chained to the ceiling the whole time?" His voice didn't betray the concern shown in his eyes.
"Yes, my wrists were already raw then." She watched him look her over again. They both knew her wrists would take weeks to heal after this ordeal.
"What do they really want?" He began thinking out loud. "They know who we are, and who we work for. Why don't we get out of here?"
"They want information," she answered. "A mission they shouldn't even know about." She pulled herself up putting her weight on the chains again. "I don't know what they know, or how."
"Which mission?" Clint pushed.
"Ukraine three years ago," She answered.
"That solo one you came back all battered and bruised from," He nodded. "I will never forget the aftermath of that mission." At her nod, he continued. "To this day, I don't know how you were still standing, let alone walking when you got back. The doctors told me you should've been dead. The doctors expected you to die. Yet you survived."
"You sound like you want to be rid of me," she joked with a smile before her tone turned serious. "I'm a survivor, I guess. Although you know the psychological toll that mission took. I can't, I won't give them any details. The things I saw would be disastrous in the wrong hands. It would cause World War III."
"So how do we get out of here without telling them anything - preferably burying them with the building," Clint asked. "What's the plan?"
"We need to know what they know," Natasha answered. "And how they found out. I just need a few more hours." She paused, a bitter smile painting her face, "Some explosives would be good too."
He nodded, "Anything I can help with?"
"Always."
"I hope you'll let me help with the guards this time."
"I just might," she nodded. "Get some rest, but be ready." She knew he hadn't slept more than a couple of hours in the last four days. She watched as he closed his eyes trusting her to watch out for them. Natasha listened to the sounds outside their prison. The shuffle of footsteps and the slamming of doors. She could use the sounds to map the base in their immediate vicinity and to estimate the number of guards they might face. She would need plenty of warning when the men would return. They would be going out blind, that was nothing new. Natasha closed her eyes doing her best to rest. She would need to be alert when the men returned.
Natasha opened her eyes, her face remaining expressionless. Shuffling footsteps could be heard faintly in the distance. They came closer, getting louder. She saw the moment her partner registered the sound and woke. It was only a minor change in his breathing that alerted her. A slight hiccup in the previously regular movement of his shoulders, as he took a breath. The pattern resumed as he assessed his surroundings for any possible threats.
Clint looked up at her a few seconds later, "The plan?"
"Bahrain, but without the explosions."
"And with some slight improvisations," he agreed.
"That can easily be remedied," She reminded him. "I have my hairpin, I just have to get it. Unless you have your picks?"
"They took everything when they searched me," He replied frustrated. "They'd be out of my reach anyway." He hated to admit he couldn't help her but he knew practicality had to win over pride as always.
'Clint, it's ok," She told him. "I'll get us out of this. I just need to know what they already know. Then we can leave."
"I know," it was the sensible move.
Regardless of the danger to themselves, they had to prevent people getting hold of the information. It would put the world in danger. They paused. In the silence, they could hear the men weren't far away. Natasha was chained facing the back wall, so she wouldn't be able to see them when they entered. The key scraped in the lock, the door groaned open, hitting the wall with a bang.
Two men, her partner indicated with an eye movement. She trusted him to let her know what she needed, for her to do her job. His eyes widened. She saw him trying to hide his panic, his face blank. To her, his fear showed clearly in his eyes. Natasha nodded her head slightly to him. She was ready for whatever was to come. She could be strong through it, she had to be. The men came to stand in front of her, blocking her view of her partner.
"Natasha Romanoff, will you tell us what we need to know?" The balding of the two bulky men asked. "Or does this have to get messy?" In one hand he held a whip, in the other a knife. The younger of the two was taller and seemed to be there just to watch, a fact he seemed excited by.
"I'll tell you nothing," She answered. She wasn't scared, she'd faced this and worse before.
"Well then, we shall have to make you talk," the older man grinned. Natasha recognised him as the man in charge from when she had first woken up here, Petrovich. He would have the information she needed.
She laughed a cold unfeeling sound. "I wish you luck."
"Your confidence will not help you. No- one will come to your rescue," He growled. "Tell us what happened on your mission to Ukraine?"
"What mission?" She asked, determined to find out everything he knew.
"You know the one I'm after," the man told her, his American accent bleeding through with his anger.
"You mean the mission where my partner and I took down the leader of a weapons ring," she asked. "That was a simple straightforward mission."
"I am talking about the one three years ago," He was losing patience quickly.
"I don't recall a mission three years ago to that area," she replied completely calm.
"You took down a base where they were experimenting with human enhancement," The younger man piped up only to receive a glare from his superior.
"You must be thinking of someone else," Natasha frowned.
"I am not," the older man snarled. His patience already nearing breaking point.
"You must be," she repeated. "I know nothing of human experimentation."
"What did you do with the serum?" He lifted the knife threatening.
"Well if it had been me I would've destroyed it," she commented off hand. Without warning the man lurched forward burying the knife in her shoulder. She didn't make a sound as the pain registered. She kept her face blank. There would be no satisfaction for them.
"We know it was you. Ivan told us it was and what was happening before you killed him and stopped the file transfer." The man's face was red with his anger. "What did you do with the data?"
"Ah, now that is classified," she smirked. "All of that is in fact." The man's face grew even redder.
"What did you do with the research?" He seemed desperate to remain in control.
"Well I took down his army, then when I found him trying to transfer the files, I took him out then wiped the system," she smirked. "But you knew that already..." She trailed off feeling the burning sting of the whip across her back. Then twice again in quick succession.
"I don't believe you."
"What else would I do with it?" she asked. "It wasn't safe to keep; the tests were torture for the subjects. There was nothing humane or ethical about it." Several more marks joined the ones across her back.
"The great Natasha Romanoff, pretending she's a hero," The boss was livid, "You aren't a hero, you're a killer. A monster. Once, you would've been a part of this. We all heard the stories of the heartless killer." He paused, "This is not how I wanted this to go."
"I know how you wanted this to go," She paused weighing up what else the man might know. "Believe me, this is better." That earned her another few cuts with the whip. She could feel the blood running down her back and chest from the wounds. The warmth soaking into her clothing, making it stick to her. She quickly ran an inventory on her injuries so far. None were life-threatening.
"Tell me where the research is," The boss snarled again.
"You already know about my mission, Petrovich," She smirked. "And who I work for, you should know where it is." She watched as the man registered her words. First, shock then confusion painted his face briefly before the anger returned.
"You're trying to play me, well you won't succeed," The whip cut her back again. "Tell me where the research is. Where are the subjects?"
"I've told you I destroyed it all," She reverted to the original story as she internally composed herself against the memories attempting to surface.
"I don't believe you," He hissed. Natasha tensed slightly knowing what would happen next. "I need that research to carry on Ivans work." She looked Clint in the eye, smiling slightly as she steeled herself. He nodded to her knowing how this would go. The first lash stung her back, she could feel each individual one as they began to rain down. She waited, face blank, without flinching for the onslaught to end. Eyes locked with Clint's, she could see how much it hurt him to have to watch as she endured agony he could not stop. It half killed her knowing she was causing him pain as well. Finally, after about 30 lashes, the younger man stopped him. Much more and she knew she would've passed out. She could already feel the darkness trying to cloud her vision.
"We'll be back, at which time we will continue until you give us the information we want," Petrovich threatened.
"Don't bother Petrovich," She smirked knowing he would hear it in her voice once again. "I won't give you anything." She waited in silence as they left, slamming the door behind them. She shook her head as her partner went to speak. They waited for their footsteps to fade into the distance.
"Time to go."
"Tasha, are you ok?" Clint asked concerned.
"I'm fine," her reply was short.
"You know you can't lie to me," A loud pop, then a crack echoed through the room in the silence. She had to focus to stay conscious. "What was that?" his eyes betrayed his panic.
"My thumb," she replied pulling her now injured hand from the handcuffs. She pulled herself up as much as she could with her other hand. Her free hand gingerly pulled the knife from her shoulder, allowing the blood to run freely from the wound. The knife clattered to the floor as she reached for her clip, releasing her long hair from its confinement. She was thankful Petrovich's men hadn't recognised the clip for what it was when they had searched her. She winced unbending her arm stretching the wound in her shoulder. The pain intensified as she reached up, she had to focus to keep her hand steady and pick the lock. With a click, she fell. Her feet hitting the ground, knees buckling. She rolled to the floor. Her back burned from the contact, making her flinch. She was weak from blood loss and wasn't sure if her legs would hold her after the 16 or more hours she had been chained to the ceiling. She rolled pushing herself up with her good hand and crawled over to where Clint was waiting. Freeing one of his hands she surrendered the pick to him to free the rest. She began to rip pieces from the hem of her shirt, to bind her shoulder. She realised then that the crack that followed her dislocating her thumb, was her wrist. The pain shot up her arm like a needle. She gritted her teeth tearing more pieces of fabric from her shirt. It would take a lot to bandage the wound, and stop the bleeding.
"Hey, stop, I got this," Clint gently pushed her hands away. It was only then she realised they were shaking. He brushed her coppery hair over her shoulder out of the wound, the blood on the ends barely visible. Clint removed his shirt leaving just his singlet before tearing it into strips. Gently, but quickly, he placed a pad of some of the shorter pieces over the wound before wrapping several of the long strips around her shoulder to hold it in place. Taking the pieces, she had ripped from her shirt, he popped her thumb back into place before binding it and her wrist into place.
"Here," she passed him the knife she had wiped clean on her skinny jeans. "You'll do better with this." He didn't argue. They both knew if they got into a fight it would be up to him to protect her. She would be at a disadvantage because of her injuries.
"I can cover your back with my singlet, but I can't do much more until we get out of here," he offered about to remove it. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry for things you can't control," she replied stopping him. "You're going to freeze out there as it is. I think there's snow outside. Besides what's left of my shirt will do."
"But-"
"Just leave it," she ordered pushing herself unsteadily to her feet. "Let's go."
It didn't take Clint long to pick the lock on the door of their cell. It was old and easily picked.
"They're either very cocky or complete amateurs," Clint announced quietly.
"Both," Natasha replied. "He was too easy to get the information out of."
"I'm glad," Clint smirked slightly. "Which way, Nat?" She pointed down to the left. He led the way slowly down the hall, careful of her and her injuries. They checked each door as they went. Looking for anyone else held captive. All the rooms and the corridor were suspiciously empty of guards or people. They stopped checking every room as they made their way further into the seemingly deserted base.
"This door should be our way out," Natasha indicated to her left, "and the command centre should be that one." She indicated to the door at the end of the corridor.
"Where is everyone?" Clint muttered opening the door, flooding the hall with frigid air. Distant sounds of guns entered on the wind. The snowy ground was clear to the edge of the distant trees.
"Leave it open," Natasha said quietly, "We have to find the boss and erase the system."
"We don't have time for revenge," Clint protested. "You need medical attention, Nat."
"I'm not talking about revenge," She replied. "We can't let him live. He knows too much, and if, he is trying to continue the experiments we must erase it. All of it. What I saw was worse than what nightmares are made of. No-one can be allowed to stumble on this mission information it's too dangerous."
"Alright," He nodded. "You're right. Stuff like that would be too dangerous in the wrong hands. You said it's this door?" At her nod, he whispered, "I'll go first." She nodded her acquiesce but he had already begun opening the door. "Jackpot." She barely heard him breathe. Natasha watched as he got a feel for the room before flinging the door open. The five men on computers in the room looked up. Pulling out guns they went on the offensive as Clint moved quickly towards the nearest one taking the man's gun as he threw a hard right hook to the man's jaw. The man fell to the ground out cold. Natasha ducked behind one of the tables as the other men, over their shock, opened fire. She watched as Clint systematically dodged bullets and take each man down with a few punches, preserving the bullets in the gun he had confiscated. She quickly moved along behind the table to engage the man furthest from the door they had entered by. She took him by surprise managing to break his nose with a single punch. He quickly recovered coming back with fists flying. He targeted her obvious injuries as she dodged each of his punches. She threw as many punches as she could with her non-injured hand.
"Boss needs you alive," the man muttered.
"Good thing I don't need you alive," she smirked tripping him. Taking up the gun he had dropped she shot him. Looking up in time to see her partner dispense of the last man she relaxed slightly. Taking up a position at one of the computers, she began hacking the system. She looked up as Clint deposited another gun next to her on the desk.
"They're all out front fighting," she gestured to the surveillance screen she had found.
"Who're they fighting?" He was heading over to check the other doors to the room.
"The footage is too grainy," she answered. "I can't tell."
"I found the armoury," Clint announced opening one of the doors. "You happy with the Glock 26's or do you want something bigger?"
"The 26's are perfect," she replied checking the two he had given her. "Could do with more ammunition though."
"You wipe the system, I'll get the boss," He said quietly placing a few extra clips next to her a few minutes later.
"Go, I've got this," She told him. "If you see the other guy shoot him for me too."
"Will do," He smirked.
"Be careful," she whispered after him as the door swung shut. Natasha quickly got to work, searching the system for any trace of the experiments code name, Angel Fire. Finding barely anything she sighed in relief. No wonder Petrovich needed her to tell him where the research was. Unfortunately for him, she hadn't been lying when she said she'd destroyed all trace of it. Experiments, research, subjects, everything.
She barely heard the gunshots before her partner hurried back into the room, the worse for wear.
"It's done," he told her. "They were trying to leave and didn't appreciate me trying to stop them."
"I'm nearly done, grab a few grenades would you, I want to blow this equipment sky high before we go," She smirked.
"Will do," he shared her smirk, heading into the armoury again as she hit the last few keys.
"Clint?" Natasha suddenly yelled.
"What is it, Nat?" He reappeared at the door.
"We've got to go," She announced stuffing the spare clips in her pocket and one of the Glock 26's in her waistband. "Erasing the data triggered a 60 second self-destruct, I don't have the password to stop it." She yelled as she waved him to follow her sprinting back down the hall to the door they had found earlier. With one look at each other, they hurried from the doorway through the snow towards the trees and freedom. The fighting continued on the far side of the building but they paid it no mind.
Suddenly a group of men, led by a woman hurried towards them from around a corner.
"Let the boss know we have them."