37
Avengers Tower
37th Floor
Alone Natasha Romanoff tapped her fingers against the desk table, her neatly cut nails make a clean crisp sound against it, the sound gently musical in the silence of the 37th floor of The Avengers tower. This floor was mainly where she spent her time of late, with Bruce Banner or training, doing anything and everything to keep herself busy.
Looking at her mobile phone she saw the time: 14.02.
The call was late by 2 minutes, she knew back in Russia that anything late could mean life or death, things in Russia run smoothly and efficiently, there weren’t delayed or lateness, it just didn’t happen.
Exhaling she reached for her phone when it started to buzz with life as it rang, not just any ring but one stark had given her especially just to annoy her and she hadn’t managed to get rid of yet.
“Speak.” Natasha said in Russian down the phone.
From the other end a gentle laugh came back and a female voice in Russia replied. “Little Pet, where are your manner?”
Leaning against the desk cracking her knuckles Natasha said through gritted teeth. “How are you Margarita? I hope your well.”
Again the woman at the other end gave a throaty dark laugh down the phone and answered in Russian. “Little Pet you do make me laugh.”
“What information do you have for me?” Natasha asked in Russian, no wanting to drag the conversation out anymore.
From the other end of the line the woman Margarita made a noise similar to turning pages or folding paper before she answered. “There’s been a big fire in Moscow, in a place where your Hydra boys used to play, one of their haunts, completely destroyed.”
“There aren’t ‘my’ Hydra.” Natasha corrected plainly and without any anger, she knew that this was why the other woman hah said it.
“Any case.” The continued in Russian. “There been a lot of unrest, lots of people saying things and asking things.” For a moment the woman was quiet, seeming to wait to hold back information for dramatic effect, which Natasha knew she would do. “There’s been talk that it was him Little Pet.”
“Who?” Natasha asked, though she knew the answer.
“The Soldier…The Winter Soldier.” Margarita answered back in Russian slowly, dragging out the word winter as she did.
Asking plainly and unimpressed Natasha asked in Russian. “That all? Nothing else, just a load of drunk assholes/mu'daks saying they saw him?”
“No….” Margarita answered back quickly. “He was there for sure, there was footage.”
“Footage?” Natasha asked shocked. “Impossible.”
Laughing slightly the woman at the other end answered. “Maybe before, but now he’s alone, with no KGP or Hydra to clean up after him.”
“Did you see it?” Natasha asked slowly.
Not saying anything Natasha felt her phone vibrant against her ear, meaning she had a text message. Taking it from her ear she looked down to see there was a pending image to open sent from Margarita. Tapping on it to open she saw a black and white grainy image/outline of the figure of man standing outside of a doorway, a shorter figure in front of him, scanning it, there was no defining details about the figure, nothing.
“That is all that’s left.” Margarita voice in Russian came from the phone.
Placing it back to her ear Natasha asked. “Have you seen the footage?”
“No.” The woman replied almost sadly. “Everything was pulled and I could only get them from a very dangerous source.”
For a moment Natasha wanted to ask who, but knew better, asking her old ‘friend’ to much was only unwise but unsafe, Margarita had the tendency to play game with people for her own amusement, though amusement was the wrong to use for what she did.
Gritting her teeth again Natasha said in Russia. “Thank you for your help Margarita.”
Laughing softly the woman at the other end asked. “When are coming back to Russia Little Pet, its the time of year now for the wolves and I’m sure you would love to play with them…you were always their favourite.”
“No…” Natasha answered back in English. “I’ll pass.”
Looking up from the desk she saw Bruce Banner standing in the doorway before her, leant against the frame, waiting for Natasha to finish her conversation.
“I’ll have what you asked for sent within the next hour.” Natasha continued in English.
Before Margarita could say anymore Natasha took the phone from her ear and ended the call.
Like a school child Bruce Banner gave a small smile. “Hey…any luck?”
Thinking for a moment Natasha debated whether to tell Bruce, the information she had been given but less than full and less than reliable, there was nothing from it to say Daisy was there, she knew telling Bruce would send him off out to Russia, into danger for what was more than likely nothing. Though the information had cost nothing more than giving Margarita a thousand from Tony Starks billions, telling Bruce that could hurt it would cost far far to much.
“There was something, but I think its just smoke.” Natasha said. “I don’t think its anything that help find Daisy…but there was a possible sighting in Moscow, someone destroyed a bar where Hydra members used to go.”
Walking over to the desk Bruce sat down, his face showing a hundred thoughts and questions. “Was it the him?”
Exhaling Natasha leant back in her chair. “I don’t think so Bruce.”
“Why? He might-“
“Bruce,” Natasha said standing up and walking around the desk. Sitting on the desk table so she face Bruce, she reached out and touched his hand comfortingly. “The Winter Soldier would not have gone to some bar in Moscow and set it on fire…he’s a ghost and shadow, anything like that it too easy for it to be him, there would be no reason for him to.”
Looking up at Natasha, Bruce looked deflated. “Hmmm…”
“I’m sorry.” Natasha said, stroking his hand comfortingly.
Turning away from her, Bruce looked down at the ground.
“Thank you.” Bruce said, still looking down. “I appreciate what your doing.”
For a moment Natasha felt a shiver of guilt, she wanted to help find Daisy, she wanted to get her back to Bruce and to safety but she didn’t want to find the Winter Solider, the man had shoot at her twice, he had tried to kill Steve Rogers twice and he…was the Winter Solider and he was part of history that needed to be forgot and buried.