Wakanda, 2018
April 3rd, 2018
Wakanda, Africa
“Are you ready to go?”
She didn’t need to turn to see Steve – she had known it was him by the tread of his feet. Aleks had come to know Steve well over the past year. She had come to know all of them – Sam, Wanda, even Vision in part – and of course, her Natalia.
She raised her hand, rubbing the back of her glove over the glass before her, clearing away the fog of her breath. Her partner’s still face looked as it always did; serene, but for the faint crease between his brows. He had once told her that the cryochamber wasn’t really sleep; it was an odd stasis between restfulness and oblivion.
Aleks missed him.
She missed him more than anything – and though he was with her, he wasn’t ever really there. In the past twelve months, she had only spent five of them with him. To her, being together was the most important thing. To him, being whole again seemed to be even more so. Aleksandrina tried not to let it hurt her; it was a selfish desire she had to combat on her own. How could she blame James for wanting to mend his mind?
“Y’know if you just asked him, he would come.” Steve’s voice was quiet, knowing. Too knowing.
Aleks shook her head once, resolute. “I can’t, Steve.” She turned to look at her friend, giving him her best smile. He didn’t seem convinced. “He wants to fix himself. How can I ask him to stop?” She looked back at James. Gently, she leant forwards and pressed a kiss to the glass. “I will see you soon,” she whispered, closing her eyes and wishing he was listening. “I love you.”
Steve didn’t say anything as they headed towards the Quinjet, but Aleks could feel his eyes on her, could feel his pity. She walked faster.
April 5th, 2018
Al Hudaydah, Republic of Yemen
They shouldn’t have come.
The Houthi had firmly entrenched themselves in control of Al Hudaydah, and though they had only come to release an encampment of hostages seeking asylum from their war-torn country, the Houthis had taken their arrival in Yemen as a declaration of war.
Aleksandrina smoothly ducked behind the remains of a foundation wall, tucking her rifle between her legs as she grabbed a new clip with one hand, and a smoke grenade with the other. She tugged out the pin, and threw it over the wall behind her. The explosion caused a momentary lapse in the rebel’s gunfire, and allowed her time to replace her clip and check her sight before she came back around the wall.
Unlike her, the Houthi were in dark clothes and camouflage. At night, and in the dark brush of the Yemen countryside, it gave them an advantage. Here, however, against the white brick of Al Hudaydah’s city in broad day light – she blended in, whilst they stuck out against the stone.
Through the smoke, her enhanced eyes were able to pick out several forms attempting to weave through the rubble towards her. She would never have the same innate marksmanship as her partner, but – she thought, gratified, as they dropped like stones – she could shoot well enough. Practice made perfect after all, and she had 85-years’ worth of training under her belt.
“Head due east, Aleks – you’re nearly at the square.”
Sam’s voice crackled through her comm-unit, and a moment later, a large shadow dappled over her. Aleks looked up in time to catch the flash of Sam’s wings as he banked sharply around an abandoned residential unit to avoid the flare of machinegun fire from the ground.
Aleks fired a few last shots in the direction of the men after her, and shouldered her rifle. “How far to the drop point, Natalia?” She asked, forcing herself into a run east.
“No more than thirteen klicks, but we’ve got a lot of young, sick and wounded. We can’t move very fast.” It was Steve who answered her, voice terse.
They had been forced to deviate from their plan when upon arriving in Yemen, they’d been beset upon. The Houthi didn’t seem to realize who exactly they were dealing with, but Steve and Natasha were the most easily recognizable, and so instead of Sam and Aleks quietly liberating the camp whilst Steve and Natasha disabled the command centre – they’d been forced to switch roles. Steve had not been happy about it, but Aleks knew that if he was recognized – they’d have more than just the Houthi to deal with.
“We’ll keep them busy.” Aleks reassured him, taking a leap over a pile of smouldering rubble. Gunfire ricocheted off the wall beside her, and she phased out – but not before a bullet grazed her arm. “Говно!” Shit! She swore, grabbing her arm to look. On the white and pale grey of her uniform, blood showed up easily, and she was able to find the exact spot of her wound.
“Ты в порядке?” Are you alright? Natalia’s voice sounded in her ear. She sounded out of breath, exhausted. They had been walking for miles now, and she had no doubt that Natalia had quite literally shouldered their burdens.
“Хорошо.” Fine. She replied, trying to see through the cloud of smoke and dust being kicked up by the automatic fire she’d stumbled into. “Sam? I’m pinned. I can’t see where they’re shooting from.”
“Get ready.”
Aleks squared her shoulders and broke into a sprint towards the buckling wall of a house opposite. The gunfire chased her, and she was forced to stay in the Grey, making it harder to see where she was going. She almost tripped as she sprinted up the sheer diagonal slope of the wall, higher and higher and-
She leapt, and a pair of strong hands caught her securely under her arms.
Aleks pulled Sam into the Grey with her – and it was a mark of how often they had worked together that he did not react at all, spiralling gracefully in an arc away from the destroyed house. From her new angle, Aleks could see the shooter – holed up on the top floor of a burnt house – and the square beyond. “Drop me in.” She told Sam.
“You sure?” She couldn’t see his face, but she could picture his expression – half-concern, half-disbelief.
“Да.”
Sam rocketed towards the square so fast that Aleks could feel the swoop of gravity in her gut. As they approached, the machine guns stationed in the four towers bracketing the square opened fire. With the ease of practice, Sam banked sharply, releasing her just before he gave up his momentum.
Unable to look back, hoping he had made it out of firing range, Aleks curled herself into a ball – and smashed through the window of the east tower. She rolled, absorbing the impact of her landing, and had her handgun in her grip as she stood.
She had taken the tower’s occupants by surprise; she shot down three of the five men inside before they had time to aim their weapons. The man operating the heavy machine gun cried out, and began to turn the machine gun around. The fifth opened fire with his own pistol, and she advanced upon him, the bullets flying uselessly through her. With a sharp crack, she shattered his jawbone with one well-placed punch and as he crumpled, she kicked his weapon out of his grip. The machinegun-operator almost had the barrel pointed at her, but almost wasn’t enough. She put a bullet through his kidney and left him where he slumped over.
With one heave, she toppled the gun over, leaving the window clear. The square itself was made up of limestone tiling, and marked at each corner with a three story tower. Connecting the towers were long abandoned single-story shopfronts and small housing units. Once, it would have been beautiful. Now, it was as war-torn and debilitated as most of the city was.
She retreated a few paces, before hurtling towards the wide open square of the tower window. She leapt through, suspended in air for a long moment, before she landed in a low crouch atop the rooves connecting the east and south towers. One of these towers was housing their base communications for the area – and whilst she could and should go blow it to hell, she needed to keep their attention as long as she could.
She had never been one for causing the chaos; she was always the hidden shadow, the phantom haunting the scene. Aleks was only a little surprised to find she actually quite enjoyed this part. There were men on the rooftops with her, some still clambering out of the windows of the south tower, all clearly intent in blocking her path.
For all their success in capturing a weakened and impoverished capital, for all their imported weapons, for all their bravado and bloodlust – they were just men. They were always just men.
Aleksandrina cut a path through them with something like ease.
“Jesus Christ.” Sam landed in front of her with wide eyes. “You, uh, you want me to find a hose?”
Aleks looked down at her dirt and blood covered suit. What once had been whites and greys was now browns and reds. She looked, in a word, hellish. “Shuri will have my head.” She said mildly. “We’re done here.” She tossed him the remote detonator linked to the explosives she’d neatly lined around the whole square.
Sam nodded, tucking it into his belt. “Wanna watch the fireworks?” He extended his hand, wiggling his fingers playfully. Aleks couldn’t help but smile. She stepped into his half-embrace, putting her arms around his neck to wrap her fingers around the small custom-grips installed in his suit. They lifted off smoothly, Sam’s arm still loosely wrapped around her waist, in a gesture more habit than necessity.
Where Natalia had slipped easily back into what she knew, and Steve had actively trained with her to align their combative style, it had taken Aleks and Sam more than a few missions to fall into the sync of allies. Sam was trained by American military men, and Aleks had been taught by Russian spies – paired with the discordance of their enhancements – they could not have thought or fought more differently. It was better now, of course. Aleks had learnt to watch Sam’s patterns, to pick out the moments where his human body might fail, and Sam knew what she looked like backed into a corner. Of course, it helped that Aleks had gotten over her fear of being dropped, and Sam had stopped throwing up every time he’d passed in and out of the Grey.
When they were high enough, Sam pressed the det – and they watched as the square erupted into flame. Sam whistled lowly, the sound coming through her comm rather than into her ear. “Shit. How much ANFO did you use?”
Aleks turned her head to look at him as best she could, their cheeks almost brushing. “What do you mean? All of it.”
“All of it?!” Sam repeated.
“You used all the nitrate?”
“Все это?”
Steve and Natasha’s equally shocked voices sounded off in their ears. Aleks narrowed her eyes. “Is there a problem?”
“No, no…” Sam was quick to assure her, a familiar shit-eating grin spreading across his face as they soared towards Natasha and Steve’s position. “Just- it’s a bit excessive, don’t you think?”
“Excessive…” Aleks repeated slowly.
Sam cackled, “I thought you were supposed to be the super-spy.”
“I was told to cause a distraction. I would consider that distracting.” Aleks said coldly, fighting the grin threatening to spread across her face. It was hard to be serious around Sam. It was hard not to smile around Sam.
“Oh yeah – excessively distracting.” Sam hummed. Aleks released one of her hands to flick his ear. “Ow! Don’t make me drop you!”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Aleks snarled, but quickly replaced her hands. Just in case…
They saw the hostages first, a winding line of malnourished men, women and children, picking their way slowly through the rocky valleys that led out of Al Hudaydah to the countryside. There, they would be picked up by a humanitarian group that ferried refugees from cities to boats waiting at the last free port in Yemen. Their job would be done once the handover was complete. As Sam swooped low, one of the women at the back of the group threw back her headscarf, revealing herself to be Natasha. Her newly white-blonde hair gleamed under the midday sun, and with her face turned to the sky, the sunlight whitening her features – they had never looked so alike.
Aleksandrina had helped the other woman get rid of her distinctive red locks. Initially, as they sat in the tiny gas station bathroom in northern Kenya, they had wanted to dye it black. But Natalia had given her a considering look, and asked if she thought having a twin would make things more difficult for media and organizations to identify them.
And it did.
To the uninitiated, to the unfamiliar, to camera lenses and eyes out of range – they could have been sisters, mirror images of each other, and they had been confused many times, both in the field and off of it. Especially now, with her new White Widow suit, which was a near exact replica of Natasha’s cat-suit, but for the colour scheme and extra holsters. It was a statement. They were a statement. Aleksandrina remembered reading a gossip magazine and a Russian newspaper that made a great deal about their familial connection.
Aleksandrina let go of Sam, and dropped to land on the boulder above Natalia. A few of the stragglers turned to look at her, and she didn’t miss the flash of fear across their faces. Aleks ignored the faint prickle of hurt, and looked at her niece. She looked tired, and the dust kicked up by their passing had turned to dirt on her sweaty face. Aleks jumped down to land in front of her, and held out her canteen. “It’s okay-” Natalia began to protest, but Aleks could see the flash of guilty longing in her protégée’s green eyes.
“Take it. Catch your breath and meet us when you can.” Aleks told her, swivelling on the ball of her foot to follow the refugees. Natalia shook her head, and tried to follow. Aleks turned, and placed a gentle hand squarely across her sternum, stopping her dead. Even through her suit, Aleks could feel Natalia’s heart racing. She had pushed herself too hard today. “Это порядок, Natalia.” That’s an order. Aleks pushed her again, into the shade of one of the overhanging rocks, and lifted a hand to her ear. “Sam, you and Natalia hang back to make sure we aren’t being followed.” Natalia’s lips thinned, and her jaw worked. Aleks resisted smiling; she had never liked being ordered around, and she couldn’t help but picture Natalia at ten years old, giving her the exact same look.
“You got it.”
Aleks waited until Sam had touched down before starting after the refugees. She tapped at her comm-unit again, opening a private channel to Sam. “Make sure she gets some rest, but be ready for my call if we need backup.”
“Understood.” Sam’s voice was serious. Unlike her Natalia, he had no issue taking orders. Probably something to do with his military background – Aleks wasn’t going to complain. She held back at the lip of the next valley, searching the fifty or so people for Steve. He was at the very front, easily recognizable by his broad form, and the fact he had three children in his grip; one slung over his back, and two in his grip. As if he could feel her eyes on her, he turned and met her gaze. A small flash of relief crossed his face, and he nodded.
From her position, she could see where the rocky valleys ended and the green-brown of the grassland begun. She squinted at a flash of metal in the distance; hoping it was the transport they’d been promised.
One of the women towards the back had begun to falter, and Aleks’ gaze snapped to her as she stumbled with a cry. A few of the Yemeni around her tried to catch her, and as she was lowered to the ground, a child began to cry. Aleks hurried over to the cluster of women, the ones standing shrinking away at her approach, and leaving her path to the fallen woman clear. Her heart stuttered at the sight of the tiny baby strapped tightly to the young woman’s chest. It was squalling, pale and yellowed, belly distended; as malnourished as its mother. Dropping to her knees beside them, she fished through her belt for the emergency nutrition pouches, offering them to the woman. The woman looked close to unconsciousness, but there was no mistaking the hesitation and wariness on her face. “للطفل ...” For the child… Aleks whispered, trying not to frighten them further. Whatever fear she had beholding Aleksandrina was clearly wiped out in the face of her maternal instinct. The woman snatched the pouches and tore them open with shaking hands.
The paste inside was hardly Michelin star quality, and Aleks had to look away at the groan of pleasure let out by the woman, feeling her chest tighten with distant rage. To treat other humans like this… she distracted herself by handing out the rest of the pouches to the nervous women hovering around them. “من فضلك امتلك واحدة و مرر الآخرين.” Please have one, and pass along the others. They nodded, seemingly glad to have a task that would take them away from her. Aleks sighed to herself quietly and turned back to the mother, who was cooing at her child, trying rub a bit of the paste onto its tongue. “ما اسم ابنك؟” What is your child’s name?
“Abdul.” The woman answered with far less reluctance. Her jaw worked, and her eyes got watery as the child began to scream again. “لن يأكل!” He won’t eat! Her frustration and despair were palpable, a tear running from her eye to mingle with the sweat beading at her temple. Aleks debated for a moment, before she tugged off her glove. Moving slow enough for the woman to avoid her if she wished, she pressed her hand first to the woman’s forehead, watching the way her eyelids fluttered at the cool touch of her skin. Then she gently stroked the babe’s forehead, right between his eyebrows. One of the mothers of her merry band of children back in Wakanda had taught her the trick. Slowly, the trigger point and the low temperature of her skin worked its magic, and as Abdul yawned, his mother was able to sneak a dab of the paste on his tongue.
“اتسمح لى بمساعدتك؟” May I assist you? Aleks sat back on her haunches, and met the young woman’s gaze. Almost shyly, the woman nodded. Aleks reached for her, snaking an arm under the crook of the woman’s knees and the other around her back, standing slowly so not to wake Abdul.
“ما اسمك؟” What is your name? The woman seemed over her fear now, and asked her question timidly but curiously. “لماذا تساعدنا؟” Why are you helping us?
Aleks considered her answers as she picked her way down the rocky slope, a little slower with the added weight. They were not supposed to be there, they were not supposed to compromise their identity in any way, and yet… and yet… “اسمي هو Aleks.” She watched the woman mouth the name to herself, taking a large step over a dried out tree branch. “ونحن هنا لأنك في حاجة إليها. لأنك تستحقها.” And we are here because you need it. Because you deserve it.
“شكرا لك.” Thank you. The woman’s voice was small, and Aleks pretended not to see the tears building in her eyes again. “اسمي هو Abia.” My name is Abia.
Aleks softened her features as best she could, giving Abia a small smile. The girl couldn’t be much older than Wanda. “من اللطيف مقابلتك صديق.” It’s nice to meet you, friend. The ground was evening out now, allowing Aleks to catch up to the main party. “يمكنك الراحة ، Abia, سأراقب Abdul.” You may rest, Abia, I will watch over Abdul. She could feel the last of Abia’s tension bleed from her body as she spoke – almost as if she had been waiting for permission – her eyes sliding shut near immediately.
It was growing late; Aleks looked at the low saddle of the sun on the horizon and to Steve, still leading the group ahead of her. “We won’t make it before nightfall. Not at this pace.” She spoke lowly, trying not to wake the woman in her arms.
Steve didn’t turn back to look at her, but she watched his own glance to the sky. “I know… but we can’t afford to stop and make camp.”
“I can fly ahead and confirm the pickup point.” Sam spoke up, “We seem to be clear on the back end. Guess they’re too busy with clean up back in Hudaydah.” Aleks didn’t respond, but clearly her smugness was obvious in her silence, because Sam snorted. “Yeah, yeah – you are the master, Aleks – I will never doubt you again.” She could practically hear his eyeroll.
Aleks sniffed delicately. “I didn’t say anything, Wilson.”
“You didn’t have to.” Natalia said dryly. “Sam and I are on the move now, there’s no sense not to let them know we’re on our way.”
Aleks took another look at the grasslands beyond them. Where the rocks stopped, they stopped – there was no cover to be seen in the large stretch of flat earth between them and main road. Something about the wide open plain made her uneasy. “I would rather we went together.”
“I’ll be quick, Frosty – no need to worry.” Sam sounded cavalier, and Steve’s low hum of agreement told her she was outnumbered. “Steve?”
“Yeah, go on, Sam. Let them know we’ll be arriving in the dark.”
Aleks pursed her lips, listening to the dull whoosh of Sam’s suit powering up, and then turning her face to the sky to watch her friend’s passage. Some of the children still awake pointed and cried out excitedly at the flash of gold sunset reflecting off Sam’s wings. She watched him go, and let out a low breath as he disappeared down near the road. Safe.
“Yep, these are our guys. Said they’ll wait right where they are. I don’t think they’re wanting to hang around much longer either.” Sam spiralled up into the sky again, now a black dot against a steadily darkening indigo sky. Aleks absently fished out her torch, handing it to the nearest Yemini. She could see well enough in the dark, but the people couldn’t. Ahead of her, Steve had also paused to hand out torches and glowsticks. “See now, that wasn’t so bad. You know, paranoia must be genetic. You Romanovs are so-”
There was a sudden loud crack, and Aleksandrina watched in horror as Sam dropped like a stone, his comm link buzzing out.
“Sam!” Steve was already running, and in her arms Abdul began to wail, Abia blinking awake in terrified confusion.
“What just happened?” Natasha’s voice was sharp and tight, and Aleks set down Abia with a growing sense of ice.
“Steve, stop where you are!” Aleks barked into the comms,
Steve was still running, already in the grass. In his wake, the Yemeni refugees were milling around anxiously. “I have to get to Sam!”
Aleks let out a low involuntary snarl, reaching for the nearest torch and crushing it in her grip. The light went out and the woman that had been holding it whimpered in fright. “Rogers, that is an order. Get back to the convoy. Sam was hit by a sniper, and you’re about to step out into the open. Natalia, мне сейчас.” To me, now. Steve skidded reluctantly to a halt, as a bullet burst into the ground where he would have been. The second shot made the refugees scream and duck for cover and Aleksandrina cupped her hands around her mouth. “تخلص من الأضواء!” Get rid of the lights! She bellowed, watching as the terrified procession followed her orders, torches going out, glow sticks buried or thrown as far as they could muster. “Wilson, if you are receiving, stay low and still.”
There was no answer from Sam, and Aleks refused to think about why.
There couldn’t have been many of them. Aleks scanned the dark landscape and tried to make out anything but grass waving gently in the breeze. There couldn't have been many or they would have seen them earlier. But who were they? Houthi, or some other enemy?
Aleks didn’t exactly care. Whoever they were, they were blocking their path and they had shot down her friend. She had done a lot worse for a lot less.
“Orders?” Natalia’s silent arrival had not startled her, and she turned to give her niece a brief appraising look. There was no trace of exhaustion on her features now, just a quiet determination, edged with a cold rage Aleksandrina knew well.
“Я полагаю, вы помните свое обучение окружающей среде.” I assume you remember your environment training. Aleks began to make her way through the trembling crowd. Natalia followed, no more than a few inches between them, steps in time, breath in time, synchronized.
Natalia smiled, a flash of dark humour. “Как будто это было вчера.” Like it was yesterday.
Steve appeared out of the darkness, breathing hard enough that she could see it. He was jittery, furious and pained and hopped up on adrenaline and he glowered at her when she got close enough. “He’s still out there!” He hissed, jabbing his finger at the plain, at the dark expanse before them. “And you’re just-”
“Stay here.” Aleks was uncowed by his anger. “You are all they have. Natalia and I will give you the all clear when it is time.”
“I’m not just going to sit here whilst you-”
“Steve.” It was Natasha who spoke now, comforting, a hand on his shoulder. Aleks had tuned him out, turned towards the grasslands, and testing the sharpness of her blades against the exposed pad of her thumbs. She checked her guns as Natasha murmured to Steve, talking him down from his righteous bluster. Natasha had her infrared goggles on when she returned, and Aleks couldn’t help the brief flash of amusement she felt at the bug-like visage her niece presented. “Вы могли бы быть к нему добрее. Sam just-” You could be kinder to him.
“Sam is out there. I will not hear about his death until we confirm it.” Aleks cut her off, and crouched to dribble some of her canteen’s water into the dust at her feet, turning it to mud. “Are you ready?” Natalia nodded, and moved into the grass. Once she was a few feet in, she crouched, and Aleks lost her to the long grass and shadows. Natalia was silent and didn’t create any evidence of movement.
Aleks dug her fingers into the mud, and smeared it across her face. Her natural paleness was a disadvantage; her skin would reflect moonlight and make her easier to see and she did not want to be seen even when she would be visible. She stood, took a few steps into the grass, and phased out. It was time to go hunting.
He could hear his own heartbeat.
It seemed so loud it would give away his position, even if the rational part of his brain told him it was impossible.
Sam resisted the urge to hold his breath, and tried not to think about the growing heat and wet coming from his neck. It wasn’t a direct hit.It can’t have been, otherwise his ass would have been dead before he hit the ground. God fucking damnit.
He should have been more careful, he should have done a thermal scan, he should have listened to Aleks, he should have done a million things – but he hadn’t. He hadn’t, and now he was lying in some dried up fucking field in the middle of fucking Yemen, praying that he’d keep breathing and that the first person to find him wasn’t whoever shot him out of the fucking sky.
For a moment, his imagination wandered, and he thought about how Riley must have felt when he-
Sam clenched his teeth, and listened to his heart and told himself that Riley wouldn’t have felt much of anything, because Riley got blown to pieces before he even started to free-fall, and he’d been in crashes much worse than this before. Hell, the first time he’d flown with the wings, he’d crashed so hard he broke a leg and both his arms. At least nothing was broken. Well-
Sam took a slightly deeper breath and had to clench his jaw shut to keep from crying out at the sharp pain in his ribs. Okay. Maybe something broken. But at least he was lying on grass and dirt rather than metal or stone. And really, if he closed his eyes and shoved his nose into the greenery he could probably pretend he’d just face planted trying to race Steve again-
A low aborted cry of surprise and pain from somewhere behind him made him stiffen, heart kicking back into high gear, and adrenaline flooding his system. He strained his hearing, muscles trembling with the effort of holding still when every part of him wanted to reach for a weapon to defend himself.
There was nothing but the rustling of wind.
Then – from the opposite direction, a gunshot loud enough to echo off the rocks around the plain. A man yelled out, and then there was a wet gurgle and silence fell again. The grass swayed, and the moon gleamed, and Sam could feel sweat beginning to run down his back beside his own blood. A thud, closer this time, and Sam couldn’t help it, even though Aleks’ instructions had been clear, he began to reach for the gun still strapped to his thigh.
A rustle sounded from above his head, and he whipped his gun up and around, firing a shot into the brush.
“Easy, tiger.” Sam felt his heart stutter, both with surprise at the sudden voice, and sheer, overwhelming relief. He turned, lying back on his side, to face Natasha, who stepped into the small crater he had created. She was smiling in manufactured amusement, but she was close enough and he knew her well enough to recognise the same relief reflecting back at him. Her hair was pulled back off her face by a pair of heavy looking night-vision goggles, and there were smears of blood on her left cheek.
Sam grinned at her. “Girl, I have never been so glad to see you. Has anyone ever told you those goggles really suit you?” Natasha rolled her eyes.
“Why are you shooting at the grass?” The sudden cool voice from his feet made him yelp embarrassingly, whipping around to meet Aleksandrina’s raised brow and unamused eyes, startling against the dirt smeared inexplicably across her face. Sam felt his own face grow sheepish, and he offered the tall woman a smile. She glared at him, but reached for his limp right wing, lifting it off his body with an ease that belied her enhanced strength. He accepted her outstretched hand and let her pull him to his feet even as his ribs screamed in protest and the congealing wound at his neck began to bleed again. He winced once he was upright, and tried to hide his pain as Aleksandrina gave him a long look. “Next time I say we go together, we go together.” Her voice was cold, but she touched the wound on his neck with impossible gentleness, her pale brows creasing.
“Yes, ma’am.” He tried to salute her, but raising his arm just made him hiss.
“Okay.” It was Aleks’ turn to roll her eyes. She turned to Natasha, Sam watching as his friend straightened her posture near imperceptibly under the older woman’s gaze. “How many?”
“Two.” Natasha answered.
Aleks nodded. “And three for me.” She turned to him again, and Sam fought the urge to straighten too. “Is Redwing still operational?”
Sam tapped at his controls. The exo-pack holstering his little friend gave a weak electric chirp. He winced. “Yeah, but he’s feeling a little sorry for himself.”
“Scan the plain for anymore thermal signatures. I am confident that we have cleared the area, but I want to be sure.” Aleks lifted her hand to her comm as Redwing zipped into the air. “Steve, you can begin leading the people through.”
“Is everyone okay?” Sam winced again at the low note of sorrow in Steve’s voice, and moved closer to Aleks, ignoring her faintly displeased lean away, and spoke as close to her comm unit as possible.
“Hey man, all good out here.”
“Sam! You had us worried, buddy.” The relief in Steve’s voice was palpable. Sam grinned at Aleks, who scowled at him faintly, and turned away to talk to Natasha in Russian. Sam narrowed his eyes at them. He was about 90% sure that they were talking about him, but couldn’t prove it. Paranoia may have run in the Romanov bloodline, but so did impeccable poker faces. He and Steve had begun trying to learn the language – secretly of course, because they didn’t want the women to know when they were onto them – but they were both struggling with the Cyrillic alphabet. He should probably just bite the bullet and ask one of them to teach him.
Sam watched as Aleks hefted the exo-pack and wings across her shoulders without so much as a change in expression. She turned to look at the horizon, at the road ahead, and for a moment, Sam thought he saw a flash of despair cross her face. But then she was marching onwards, Natasha slipping under his arm to help him walk, and he thought it must have been a trick of the moonlight.
Aleksandrina didn’t strike him as the type to despair about… well, anything.