Chapter 2
February 18th, 2013
HYDRA Siberian Facility
Siberia, Russian Federation
Tony came to silently, his newly remembered training kicking in. He stayed still for a moment, listening, then dared to open his eyes.
He was strapped to an oddly familiar chair. His arms were strapped down, and cool metal braced his face. Tony froze. He knew what this was. A clang sounded behind him, followed by footsteps. A small, weaselly-faced man in a lab coat came into view, followed by an old man pushed in a wheelchair. When the old man saw Tony, his face lit up.
“Well, well, Baryanov! I never thought-” The rapid russian speech paused as the man coughed weakly. “I never thought I’d see you again! To think! Antoshka Baryanov, the Merchant of Death, posing as Tony Stark, America’s premier weapons developer! Now that, th-cough-that is rich. When I heard you’d regained your memories, well, I just had to have you back, my boy. And Natalia too! How-cough-fortuitous! I think we made a mistake separating you two last time. Worry not, it won’t be repeated.”
Tony’s brow furrowed. “Ivan?” he asked. “Is that really you, you old bastard? Where’s Natalia?!”
Ivan laughed, then coughed. “Now, now, Antoshka. Madame B. is telling her the same thing. But,-cough-down to business! Doctor, if you would…”
The weasally man produced a small black book inscribed with a scythe on the cover. Tony’s eyes went wide, and he began to writhe in a desperate attempt to free himself. Ivan smiled.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “You remember this part, don’t you?” He opened the book to the first page. “Doctor, let’s begin.”
Tony screamed as electricity arced through his brain.
“Fable.”
“Twelve.”
The electricity burned down his neural pathways, reprogramming his brain, erasing that which he held dear.
“Ironmonger.”
“Mechanic.”
Steve… He must not forget Steve, or the Aveng- the Av- the… What was he thinking about? Oh yes, he must not forget Steve. Or was it Simon?
“Forge.”
“Nine.”
No, no it wasn’t Simon, it was… it was… it was so hard to think, his brain hurt, it hurt so much. Tony was vaguely aware of screaming, but-wait, who was Tony? Was that him?
“Burning.”
“Scars.”
No, he wasn’t Tony. Who was he? He worked for… Who did he work for? It started with a S, right? Sh-something. No, that wasn’t right, it started with an H. Why had he thought it started with an S? That was a stupid mistake. He worked for… He wracked his brain. H-, Hy-, Hydra! That was it! He worked for HYDRA!
“Ten.”
“Market.”
Now, if only he could remember his name. He had one, he was sure, but it seemed just out of reach. Had it started with a T? No, maybe an A? Perhaps it was-
“Merchant?”
That was it! That was his name! Merchant! The Merchant of Death! He remembered now! Himself, the Merchant of Death, and his partner, the Black Widow! He knew the response to the old man’s question, and he said it happily.
“Ready to comply.”
February 18th, 2013
HYDRA Siberian Facility
Siberia, Russian Federation
Natalia was fairly sure she had not been in a sterile concrete room when she blacked out. The last thing she remembered was a tac team busting down the door before an EMP shut down their comms and Tony’s suit. She was fast, they both were, but before they could even react, they were both tagged with a dendrotoxin round, and out cold.
She took brief stock of her surroundings. She was strapped to a vaguely threatening-looking chair that she half-remembered. She didn’t know it’s function, but she knew it was bad. Just as she was about to break her thumb to get out of the shackles, the door behind her clanged open, and Madame B. strode in, followed by two technicians.
“Hello, Natalia. It’s good to see you again.”
Natalia gathered up all the spit in her mouth and launched it at Madame B. She simply stepped to the side and let the spittle splatter on the wall behind her.
“You know, it hurt me when you chose to leave. But, I see now,” she said. “Separating you and Antoshka was a mistake. One that Ivan assures me will not happen again. He’s with Baryanov right now. But enough talk!” Madame B. clapped her hands. “Let’s bring you back into the fold.”
One of the technicians handed her a small black book with a red hourglass on the cover. Natalia clenched her fist, and renewed her efforts to dislocate her thumb. She would not go back to being a brainwashed toy for the Red Room. Not when it took her so long to break free in the first place.
But before she could get her wrist free, the clamps on either side attached to her head, and a current was directed through. She arched her back and screamed until her throat was raw as the burning energy tore through her mind.
“Strobe.”
“Nineteen.”
Natalia shuddered, fighting a losing battle against a tide of monstrous green tentacles stretching across her mind, rooting out and destroying everything that made her, her.
“Telephone.”
“Citation.”
Steve, Bruce, Thor. SteveBruceThor. SteveBruceTh-. Who was Thor. She was fairly certain she didn’t know any Thor. Where had that name come from. That name… What was she thinking about? It was something important… Well, it couldn’t have been that important if she’d forgotten so easily.
“Seven.”
“Bookshelf.”
Her brain hurt. If only Clint were here, he’d save her, help her figure out real from not. Cli-no, that wasn’t his name? Why couldn’t she remember his name?
“Ruble.”
“Grief.”
He was her best friend, she should remember his name. But why should she? She didn’t have a best friend, did she? No, she couldn’t. She didn’t know why, but she knew she couldn’t.
“Two.”
“Silicon.”
She knew why. She was a weapon. Weapons didn’t have feelings. They didn’t have needs or wants. They definitely didn’t have friends.
“Widow?”
She smiled.
“Ready to comply.”