Opportunity
It is midnight; the blackness surrounds me. Though it unsettles most people, it feels like home to me. The night air is freezing, sending shivers down my spine, but the cold feels nice when I take a deep breath, letting my lungs enjoy the fresh air—sitting on a rooftop across from the apartment where my target lives, I assemble the rifle and get into position. HYDRA needs him dead; I think his name is Kevin; who knows? HYDRA deems him dangerous and worries that he will reveal secrets to receive a better deal when he goes to prison. Therefore, they sent me to kill him.
Hacking into his phone and sending him a message, I can see his screen light up and hear the buzz. He stands up from the couch he is sitting on and walks over to the phone while keeping his eyes on the T.V. but unknowingly putting him in the perfect position to be shot.
The target pulls up his messages, and I can see him stiffen when he pulls up his texts. "Turn around," the message taunts him.
Slowly, Kevin turns. His face is pale as a piece of paper. His hands are shaking; he is starting to pant and sweat. That's when he caught my eyes, sending a rush of adrenaline through my veins. He tries to run; they always do; they may escape from someone else but not me. I always get my mark. Pulling the trigger and listening to the bullet fly through the air and smash through the window. The bullet hits the back, where his heart is located, and his body slumps to the ground, trying to desperately crawl away before the blood loss becomes too much and his breathing stops.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the slightest movement, moonlight reflecting off the metal on a gun and an arrow. Sighing, hoping for once that they will leave me alone but knowing they won't, I reach down and pick up my bag, acting as if I never saw them. Hawkeye releases his arrow; as it sails toward me, I realize something, I have food in my pocket.
My body jolts back, causing me to stumble for a second; looking down, an arrow is piercing my stomach; watching my blood drip down the wood, I grab ahold of it and pull it out like it was nothing. Looking at him with a bored expression on my face and slowly raising an eyebrow to taunt him a little bit, I grab the arrow with both hands and break it like a toothpick. Black Widow takes this as a sign and starts shooting, a whole magazine of bullets enters my body, and once the gun runs out of ammo, I begin to dig them out. The holes heal almost instantly thanks to my healing factor, and I can't die; I mean I can. It just takes a shit ton of effort.
To humor them, but mostly myself, I grab my bag and start jumping to another rooftop; the assassins follow after me, running at a slower pace. I can feel my blood pumping beneath my skin, the wind slapping my face, and my hair blowing in the wind. The only time that I feel free.
I can hear them approaching, their footsteps slamming against the ground as they try to catch up to me; it has been a while since I've been caught, so what the hell? I give up. Throwing my bag against the ledge of the building, I plop down and wait.
When they finally get to my roof, I'm sitting there, my bag next to me, and munching away at an apple. More specifically, a Honeycrisp apple.
Natasha and Clint look at each other in utter confusion and apprehension before shrugging and cautiously walking up to me, cuffs at the ready. I can hear them taking deep breaths to try and slow their breathing and try to make it look like they didn't have any difficulty keeping at my pace.
Standing up and keeping a firm grip on my fruit, "Cuff my hands in front of me," I tell them while taking a giant bite out of my apple.
"Why?" Clint questions while scoffing at me.
"Cause I wanna eat my apple; I'm hungry, dumb ass." Clint looks disgruntled while Natasha rolls her eyes but complies with my command, eyes still sharp, waiting for any sudden movements. Her uneasiness gives a deep sense of gratification as she tries to steady the slight tremor in her hands.
"Where are ya taking me?" I ask in a bored tone, even though I already know the answer.
"SHIELD," both Natasha and Clint chime at the same time. I look between the both of them for a moment and then ask.
"How long did you guys practice to be able to say that in sync?"
Natasha and Clint walk me to the quinjet, each having an iron grip on each shoulder and elbow in case I try and make a run for it that was waiting for them to board. Walking up the ramp in my heeled black leather boots, they strap me into a chair, making sure that I can't slip out of the restraints, and I sit there eating my apple and listening to them whisper to one another.
"Why did she let us take her?" hisses Natasha as she takes her place in the pilot's seat.
"How am I supposed to know? I'm not a mind reader!" Clint replies harshly, pulling on a headset and taking the co-pilot chair.
I let out a slight chuckle; I guess Natasha still remembers me and what I can do. After all, being labeled as extremely dangerous in every database known to man tends to put people on edge. The chuckle causes Natasha and Clint to swivel in their chairs to look back at me; I put an angelic smile on my face and take another bite out of my apple. All I can hear is the sound of my teeth biting through the apple; the duo exchange looks and seems to be having a silent conversation with their eyes before facing forward and beginning to fly the aircraft.
"Come on, let's go. Fury is expecting us, and she scares me." Clint reports while adjusting the headset.
"She is the most dangerous person alive; it doesn't make sense that she can be captured that easily," replied Natasha.
Finally, I speak up, "Ha! If I wanted to escape, I would have. You two wouldn't have even caught me in the first place. Don't think for a second that you two could ever bring me down, but it is still nice to know that you remember me, Natalia."
The two assassins scowl at me, both for different reasons, before looking forward, and the quinjet takes off, only to fly for a short while before soon I see a big ass ship in the water with other aircraft lined up along the sides of the ship. Once the quinjet touches down, the four soldiers immediately run on board, approaching me cautiously and taking the restraints off as quickly as possible. Once they get me to my feet, they grab me and lift me slightly so I can't touch the ground. They carry me to an interrogation room and chain me to the chair, and my handcuffs are attached to the top of the table. The room has two chairs, one on each side of the table in the middle of the room, the walls are a dull gray color, and four cameras are placed strategically throughout the room.
I crane my neck back and stare at the ceiling; listening to the annoying buzzing sound emitting from the light fixture above me, I feel my irritation beginning to rise. Soon, I hear the door open and see a figure sitting on the other side of the table. The man is dressed in a black trench coat, black shirt, and pants and is wearing an eye patch over his left eye without saying a word. I know who this man is in an instant. This man is Nick Fury.
He slams a manila folder down on the table, thumbs through a large number of papers before sighing, and then looks at me. He doesn't say anything for at least 2 minutes keeping his one eye trained on me the whole time; as the silence continues, I begin to think he is mute when he opens his mouth.
"Do you know what this is?" he asks me while gesturing to the file lying on the table.
"A folder," replying in a snarky tone with a hint of boredom.
" Do you know what is in the folder?" Nick questions me.
"I'm going to say paper. Am I right?" Now I am just playing with him. I see him starting to get annoyed; he shifts his weight from one foot to another, and his ears pull back a little, small tells that one would miss if not correctly trained.
" Do you know what the paper says?" he barks at me.
"No," I bite back, "but I have a feeling that you are going to tell me anyway."
"You, this is your file Nikolina." He says in a rough voice; Fury rips the top of the folder open to see my picture staring back at me.
"Awe, I'm honored," my voice taking on a high-pitch tone.
I see Nick roll his eyes, and he sighs. He looks at me long and hard before taking a seat, and he leans back in his metal chair. He sits there with his arms cross over his chest and continues to glare at me.
"I know I'm gorgeous, but your staring is getting creepy. Do you want to take a picture?" I tease him.
"I want to offer you a job here at SHIELD working for me." His statement catches my full attention, not expecting that sentence to come from his mouth, ever.
Instantly on the fence, I narrow my eyes and question the man, "Why?" Leaning forward and place my head on the heel of my hand. "What's in it for me? What does SHIELD want with me?"
"Well, for one, no more HYDRA, two, you would be free of all criminal charges; and three, you would be paid."
I stare at Nick for a long time, contemplating his words. Yes, I wouldn't work for HYDRA anymore, and I already decided on leaving after the Kevin mission. The downfall is that I would work for SHIELD and take orders from Fury. I have my answer, "What's the catch, Fury?" I bite out.
"You will have to be under surveillance by Romanov and Barton until they declare you not to be an enemy of the state."
My jaw ticks, but I see him swallow hard, "and?"
"We want a list of all the powers you can possess."
Growling in my chest, "No." I lean forward even more, "you will know what I want you to know about my abilities on my terms and my terms ONLY."
"Volkova, we just want to know-"
"What? See if you guys can make your own super soldier. Try and find a way to negate mine. Yeah, no thanks. I will join, but my powers will never be up for negotiation."
"And if I tell you that, we won't accept you until we know your abilities. What would you do?"
Mocking laugh bursts from my chest, "Do you truly want to find out?"
Our eyes? Eye? Our gazes meet, never wavering; Fury knows that I will never back down. Fury breaks the stare first, running a hand over his face in frustration and defeat.
"Okay, you win this one, Volkova. Your powers are your own, and however, in exchange, you have to work for me for a minimum of five years."
Mulling over his words, I come to my conclusion, "You got a deal." As the comments leave my mouth, Fury is up and walking to the door, "there's something I want to know," he turns to look at me in annoyance, "what does SHIELD truly want with me?" The doors fling open, hitting the wall so hard that it leaves a small dent in the wall; a genuine, eh, slightly crazy laugh leaves my lips at his display of anger.
A woman who stands at medium height, with brown hair pinned up in a bun, is in a SHIELD uniform walks into the room and unlocks the chains and cuffs, causing them to fall loudly to the floor.
"Come on. I am assigned to take you to where you will be staying for now." Rising, loud pops resonate from my spine, causing me to sigh in relief before walking to the lady.
Nodding at her, "what's your name?"
She turns on her heel and begins making lefts and rights at such a fast rate that it is hard for me to memorize the halls. Stopping outside of a grey metal door, she enters a four-digit code, letting me see the password, and the door slides open, finally allowing me to see where I will be staying.
The "bedroom" is a glorified janitor's closet, small with just a bed on one side, a desk and chair, and two doors leading to the bathroom and the wardrobe. I see a shower, sink, and toilet walking into the bathroom.
Letting out a low whistle as I meander into the "room," "Wow, Fury spared no expense, huh?"
The agent rolls her eyes at me, and as she turns to leave, my voice stops her, "Hey," she looks over her shoulder to peer at me, "you still haven't told me your name."
"Hill." She leaves after that, and the door slides shut.
"Well," I huff slightly, "everyone is SUPER friendly here."
I walk into the bathroom, find towels under the counter, and decide to shower to get all the sweat and grime off of my body. I strip the clothes off, look in the mirror and stare at all my tattoos that litter my feet, back, wrist, shoulder, underboob, left thigh, and right leg. The tattoos I have are a 'go f yourself, buddy' to Hydra as I was out on a mission every time I got them. The shower comes to life as the knob turns red, letting the water turn as hot as it can go.
With steam filling the small room, sending shivers up and down my spine, the air turning thick, causing a sense of comfort, stepping into the tub, the scalding water rains over my body; I stand there for a minute, just enjoying the heat. Finally, grabbing the shampoo bottle, I pour a large amount into my palm and begin working it through my long tresses. Once the shampoo is all out, the conditioner shortly follows, and then the body wash; once my whole person is clean, I lean against the wall thinking over the events that have just taken place.
The water starts turning cold, and I take that as my cue to get out. Shutting the water off, I step out, wrap a large fluffy towel around me, and plop my ass on the toilet lid, enjoying the last bit of heat. Once my hair finishes air drying, I braid it into an elaborate hairstyle cause of how long it was, to keep it out of the way and get dressed; I find a pair of dark wash jeans and a black shirt in a drawer, no way am I wearing one of SHIELD's ugly ass uniforms.
I venture out of my room and hunt for the cafeteria, I need food, and I need it NOW! I pass by many agents, staring at me in fear and shock. Soon, I find the cafeteria and grab a burger, a couple of pizza slices, a salad, an apple, and a brownie. Spotting an empty table, I make my way toward it, only stopping to grab a cup of mountain dew. I sit down and begin to enjoy my delicious meal; soon after, I am greeted by Natasha; Clint sits down across the table from me, and I stare at them while shoving the pizza into my mouth.
"Sure, you can sit down." My mouth is full of food as I snark at the two spies.
"We are your new partners; you will train with us as well as go on missions with us," Natasha speaks in a commanding tone as my gaze turns back to the food sitting on the tray in front of me.
"Natalia, you know how I react when I am being told what to do." Looking at her through my eyelashes, and then I pick my head up to glare at her, I see a hint of fear flash through her eyes before she contains it. However, I notice how wide-eyed her male counterpart and his head is swiveling back and forth to look at her then to me, then it repeats.
"You will do as you are told, Nikolina."
I swallow the food in my mouth and reply, "Are you trying to command me? Cause honey, you and I both know that you can't win a fight against me, Natasha. I mean, Natalia."
The redhead's glare contains only hate as I use her given Russian name. "The command came from Fury."
"Fascinating," came the sarcastic reply falling from my lips.
"You seem to forget that you work for Fury now; you do as he says," she replied angrily.
"You seem to forget one important fact, Romanova."
"And what is that, Volkova?" Our Russian accents become more prominent as we continue to battle against each other verbally.
"That I don't care." My reply comes without hesitation.
Natasha gets up from her chair and glares down at me, meeting her stare head-on, never once flinching in fear; after all, I have seen that look since I was a little girl. Smirking, I lean back in my chair and take a bite out of my Honeycrisp apple. Clint is still sitting there, staring at the floor as if it was the most exciting thing in the world, trying to avoid getting in the middle of the two pissed-off Russian women. After telling me what time training is, she storms off, and I turn to Clint.
"I think she still likes me," A smirk plasters itself on my face.
Clint looks at me and smiles a little bit, trying to hide a chuckle. "Oh, 100%. Listen, I know that things are changing quickly for you and will take some time. but if you could come to training so we can get used to working together, I would appreciate it."
Mulling over his words, "Alright, I'll come, but.." Clint's eyes widen slightly, "you owe me a mountain dew." After all, I need to stay in shape.
Nodding his head in thought, "I can do that. You got yourself a deal, Nikolina." We make eye contact and chuckle, I hand over two of my pizza pieces, and he nods before we knock our slices together, and we both continue to eat our lunch in silence. Maybe this won't be so bad after all, I thought.