Návojná, Czech Republic, 2015
5th July 2015
Návojná, Zlín Region, Czech Republic
“You were out last night.”
She made sure to keep loose, to keep her hands steady on the small whetstone in her grip, methodically drawing her blade across its surface once before she looked up with a small smile. It was calculated, perhaps, but she knew her partner liked to see emotion on her face, and smiling was the easiest way to communicate truth. “I was. I am surprised you noticed, you seemed so deeply asleep.”
James Buchanan Barnes, The Winter Soldier, her partner of more than 65 years, the man to which she was indebted in every single way, raised an eyebrow at her from his stance in the doorway to their small cottage’s living room. “And…?” he folded his arms across his chest, metal arm glinting in the morning sun. The light was clean and clear here, where air pollution was a thing of myth, and the stars shone as bright as the moon at night, and the rolling greens of the hills around them seemed to be a barrier from the world.
“And I will be out today and tonight too.” She said simply, meeting his eyes with no hesitation.
Her partner looked unhappy, and he dropped his poise to lope over to her, dropping into the wicker chair opposite her with a huff. “I thought you wanted to settle here. I thought you wanted to live in a quiet town.”
Deception was one thing, but to see him hurt was another, and she set aside her knife and stone, leaning towards him. “I did, and I do. Though we can’t stay here forever, I like it.” She did like the anonymity, though the proximity to the borders of the EU was just as helpful.
“We could.” He said quietly, eyes flickering to the floor.
She frowned, “Could what?”
“Stay here forever.” He said, looking up and meeting her gaze with a now familiar intensity that made her cheeks warm reflexively. “We could, if you wanted.” He rose from his chair to crouch before her in one liquid movement, capturing her free hands in his. “We could integrate, we could really live here. The people here are kind, and we wouldn’t be strangers for long. Что ты говоришь?” What do you say?
She searched his face. His earnestness was so clearly written, his eyes unshadowed and bright, and she thought him to be beautiful in his emotion. Gently, she extracted her hands from his grip, but before his face could fall entirely, she took him by the chin and kissed him.
The shivery warmth that she knew to be delight was still as heady a feeling as it had been the first time they had connected in such a way. It made it difficult to pull away from him as he tried to deepen the kiss, holding him firmly by his chin, and sitting back, and watching as his eyes slowly opened in wonderment.
“I say we talk about it later.” She said quietly. He looked disappointed but let her go without a word as she stood and collected her gear. “I should be back for lunch tomorrow. We can make guláš.” He shadowed her to their bedroom, watching silently as she dressed. She deliberately set down the knife and whetstone on her bedside table, smoothing down her blouse as she turned. His face was held in the deliberately unreadable expression he wore when he was displeased or thinking, and she could bet she knew which of the two he was expressing. “Do you want me to stay?”
It was unfair, perhaps cruel, to ask him such a question. She knew he was unwilling to ‘stifle’ her, as he had put it, wanting her to experience the world as she saw fit. She also knew that if he really knew where she was going, and what she was doing, he would want to go with her. She couldn’t risk it.
His face contorted in predictable guilt, and he shook his head. “No, no – go. Have… fun. Just…” his jaw worked, metal arm whirring faintly as his hands twitched, “пожалуйста, будь осторожен.” please be careful.
This time, her smile was real, as her chest flooded with warmth. She reached for her blue peacoat, and then reached for him. He embraced her tightly. It was another new, and yet welcome change to their partnership. Now, after so long, they could express the way parting made them feel. She still felt the desperate clutches of worry when they were apart, but now, it was made a little easier by all this new… stuff.
It was also made easier by her focus.
If she was successful, then perhaps the fear of parting could be eliminated forever.
She let him squeeze her for another moment longer, taking a quick look at the small watch on her wrist over his shoulder. If she didn’t leave soon, she would be delayed, and the man she had been hunting might slip away. Thankfully, he let her go.
“Увидимся завтра.” I will see you tomorrow. She told him. He didn’t follow her from the bedroom, though when she turned to close the front gate after herself, she caught the edge of his silhouette in the kitchen window, watching, waiting.
She didn’t waste energy by slipping into the Grey, keeping her head bowed to the curious looks of the locals instead of inducing her invisibility. It would be a long twenty-four hours, and she needed to reserve her energy. Her target was unlikely to be unguarded, and without backup, she would be stretched thinner than she was used to.
The car she had begun renting when they had first settled was hidden behind an old stone wall that bracketed in one of the multitudes of farmland properties, just past the town’s centre and the church off the main road. The whole village was quaint and unassuming, and even though their arrival had been surprising, it was not their way to be nosy. It was one of the reasons she suspected the car and its contents had not been unveiled, and why their landlord didn’t seem to mind them paying rent without face-to-face contact.
Ghost picked her way delicately around the uneven stone, impatiently unbuttoning her coat as she went. Time was something she had once ignored; a lifetime spent under others’ rule meant time was not a luxury she could afford to have or consider. Now, it seemed every second was more precious than the last, and they slipped away from her faster than she would have liked.
She popped the boot, and tossed her coat over the back seats, reaching for the duffle bag containing her hunting gear. It had been difficult to amass the gear she had inside; both her and her partner were still ingrained with the need to carefully stockpile and stock-take weaponry and ammunition, and as such, she had to be careful about taking too much. She was lucky, perhaps, that her methods didn’t require so many bullets.
She slipped off her shirt and shoes without modesty, slipping into the black shirt and supportive boots she usually wore on her trips. The jacket with the hood served to hide her distinctive hair, and she tied her face mask loosely around her neck to draw up over her face later. Her utility belt was heavier than she would have liked, but she needed it until she could find a way to strap her knives to her torso and thighs as she preferred, and now she carried a gun more, she needed a holster for it, as it was unwieldy to carry her weapons in her small backpack.
Ghost slammed the boot shut, and phased through the car, until she was sat in the driver’s seat, materialising to turn the keys already dangling in the ignition. In the passenger’s seat, her files were open to the man she was after, his image staring coldly at the roof of the car, unknowing of the fate awaiting him, and everyone he kept company.
Jakub Kovac was, on the outside, a simple Slovak businessman who just happened to deal with some of the most dangerous men in the Visegrád Group. His spiderweb of connection and dealings extended into the Czech Republic, Hungary, Poland and up until recently, Sokovia, wherein he’d been responsible for shipment of arms and goods to a certain unnamed corporation located in a certain unmarked station just outside the capital of Sokovia.
Had it not been for extensive media coverage of the events leading up to Ultron’s attack upon Sokovia, she might not have named Kovac as one of her main targets. He was, undoubtedly, HYDRA affiliated, and despite global attempts at quashing the organization, Kovac Inc. was still shipping across the EU, and his name had not appeared in any papers or legal documentation she could trace.
If he was not HYDRA, then he knew where they were.
Ghost did not comfort herself with falsities. She did not pretend to revel in the apparently triumph over HYDRA. Their exposure had not been their downfall, and like roaches, they were surviving, scrabbling and filthy, clinging to life. Whilst HYDRA still survived, she and her partner were not safe, and neither were the people that had exposed them.
Steve Rogers, Natalia and their associate Sam Wilson, may not have been concerned with the underbelly of humanity now, perhaps more concerned with larger seeming disasters, such as the one they had thwarted in May. With their heads turned to the sky, they couldn’t see the target pinned to their backs. HYDRA, particularly the European divisions, were not known for mercy, nor were they known for forgiveness for transgression. HYDRA had been built on pride and power. Injured and removed of both, it became personal, and Ghost was willing to bet that somewhere, a list of people HYDRA wished eliminated was headed with their names and faces.
She could not let them be harmed.
Sam Wilson was precious to Steve Rogers, who was precious to her partner – and she knew that the loss would cripple something in her partner. He had slowly been remembering, his little book long since filled, another half-way finished already. Her own selfish desire to keep Natalia safe was much easier to understand. The longing she felt for the girl had been, initially, hard to understand. Afterall, all they had been was student and teacher, outwardly, at least. With time, she’d come to realise the fondness she had had for the girl had been returned, and though guilt was undoubtedly responsible for some of the obligation she felt for Natalia, she had a connection to her, one that seemed to be as meaningful as the one she had shared – albeit briefly – with Daisy, the girl from the coffee shop.
Daisy Lee, born Daisy Ray Lebedev, was also someone Ghost felt she owed. Kindness had always seemed to be something so impossible, made even more so after her escape due to the very nature of her being. Daisy had shown her kindness and friendship before she had known what it was, and despite the briefness of their time together, Ghost still treasured the small pocket of memory Daisy occupied.
She had been pondering how best to repay the girl, both for her friendship, but for the damage she had caused to her livelihood. She and her partner were living gingerly, with just enough money to keep afloat, and so she needed to find a way to get Daisy money inconspicuously, and enough to make a difference.
Ghost had a long list of things to do. It was good then, that she was patient.