Yelena Vs. The Tracksuit Mafia
Narrated by Yelena Belova / a “Black Widow” Assassin (Post-”Hawkeye”)
“… I don’t know if I cried when I heard about his widowed bride, but something touched me deep inside the day the music died. And we were singing “ bye bye Miss American Pie”, I took my chevy to the levy, but the levy was fried, and good ole boys were drinkin whiskey and rahe the day the music died. -”
Bang
I still remember the gunshot that shook me from my thoughts. I was playing my song, thinking about her, my sister, Natasha. Natasha was dead. I knew that before, but that was different. I could cast all of my grief and pain and suffering and insecurity on the man who did this.
And I would kill him.
But now I’ve tried that.
Now I know the truth. Natasha sacrificed herself. And there was nothing I could do about it. There was nothing anyone can do about it.
Clint Barton, the man I thought murdered my sister was only another person who lost her. And I was just another pawn, manipulated to do as they please.
I cleared my eyes, which were blurry from staring into the floor for who knows how long. Coming to my senses, I grabbed my gun and checked my surroundings. There was nothing off, except the bullet in the wall. I turned to the door the shooter might have come from, steadying my weapon. I crept towards the door.
This was a bad idea. Shoot and run won’t work here. I sheathed my gun in its holster and covering it with my jacket. Slowly, I cracked my door open and slipped out.
I ran to the exit.
Nothing seemed off, so I continued down the street. I walked through these Brooklyn streets, weaving through person and person, my eyes remaining alert for a target.
There he was, a possible culprit. He was a man clad in a red tracksuit. I immediately recognized him as one of the men from the attack on the Bishop Christmas Party at the Rockefeller Center.
No. He saw me. This could be bad. Not for me, I’ll be fine, but all of these people here don't deserve to be caught in the crossfire.
The man got aggressive. He pulled out his gun, running towards me. He didn’t care who he hurt, but I did. I ran.
I shoved people out of the way, with no regards for my reputation.
My heavy jacket flapped in this icy wind. My boots clacked against the cement as I ran. I could still hear the tracksuit man clomping behind me. I heard people scream as he plowed into them.
More were coming. All of these men were armed, mainly with knives and pistols, and they were all focused on me.
I panicked, accidently letting one sneak up on me. “Ah!”, I screamed as he pulled my hair, refusing to let go.
“Not so tough are you now, bro,” he taunted me. I knew his accent was Russian, just as mine is.
“Крепче, чем ты (Tougher than you are.),” I responded, weaving my leg under his. Seeing as he obviously didn’t notice, I pulled forward.
“Ебать”, he cried as he fell to the ground. In response, his friends all trained their guns on me.
“Дерьмо,” I muttered.
I was dead meat. My kill count and experience didn’t matter now, the mathe was simple. I was one person, with one gun. They were six people, with one already dealt with, and seven guns.
My chances of survival were slim and the battlefield was crowded with too many civilians.
I could …
● Fight them now and let innocent people die
● Run away until I'm backed into a corner
● Play innocent until I find what they want
● Die
Yeah … no, That last one is not an option. Let’s revise this.
I could …
● Fight them now and let innocent people die
● Run away until I'm backed into a corner
● Play innocent until I find what they want
● Die
I’m not gonna do that first one. I already have too much blood on my hands. I don’t need any
more.
I could …
● Fight them now and let innocent people die
● Run away until I'm backed into a corner
● Play innocent until I find what they want
● Die
So my options are to fake innocence to extract information (Natasha’s favorite strategy) or flee
and fight them later, hoping they don’t take hostages or retaliate on the civilians. Now I see why
Natasha always favored playing dumb over just fighting.
I’m not a good actress, and they have just seen me fight, so I don’t think that one would work
out well now.
I could …
● Fight them now and let innocent people die
● Run away until I'm backed into a corner
● Play innocent until I find what they want
● Die
I don’t exactly have much options here. I want to do the right thing. I want to make my sister proud, but this isn’t the situation for that. I don’t know what I can do. So, I did the only thing I knew.
I faced the tracksuit men, backing away from that one I took out. I raised my hands, faking surrender.
Two of them fell into my trap, coming right up to me, just like I hoped. One holstered his gun and the other aimed it away. Red #1 grabbed my arms.
I smirked. I knew I had the upper hand, even if temporarily. As he reached for my arms, I swung my fist. He stepped back on impact. Red #2 aimed his weapon at me. I dived at him, knocking his legs down and landing another punch.
I kicked away all of their guns and stole their knives. Those could be used later.