219. Empires at War. (Patreon)

Natasha Romanoff POV:

Budapest always smells like old brick and cold rain.

It was a smell that gunpowder could never quite wash away.

I leaned against the cracked kitchen counter of the abandoned apartment and pressed the ice pack hard against my forehead.

“Why,” Yelena shouted from the other side of the room, “did you bring the gas to Budapest?!”

Her voice echoed through the narrow space like a grenade going off in a closet.

I winced slightly due to pain.

“Because,” I replied calmly, “you sent me pictures of our fake childhood.”

I glanced toward the old table where the photographs were scattered. Two girls, a dog in a suburban house. A fake family that somehow meant everything to us.

“You sent those,” I continued quietly, “and expected me not to come?”

Yelena paused while wiping blood from a shallow cut on her forehead. She rolled her eyes with a groan. “I expected you to take it to one of your genius friends, Natasha.”

She began listing them off on her fingers. “Your billionaire friend, your green rage monster friend or that paranoid husband of your spider friend.”

She pointed at me. “Tony Stark, Peter Parker or Bruce Banner. Anyone. Well anyone except your S.H.I.E.L.D. colleagues.”

I exhaled slowly. “You know why I didn’t call Peter?”

Yelena snorted. “Oh please.” I leaned forward slightly. “Because Peter would capture every Widow on the planet.”

Her expression changed. “He would free them.” I continued. “And he would dismantle the Red Room in about six hours.”

Yelena rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Funny thing...” She muttered.

“What?”

“Not even Widows can infiltrate Parker Industries.”

She shook her head slowly.n“That man’s paranoia is on another level.”

I smirked. “That’s not paranoia. That’s experience.”

She opened her mouth to argue and then my burner phone rang which caused both of us to freeze.

Yelena slowly turned toward me.

“Nat.”

I sighed.

“Nattttt.”

“Yes?”

“Did you forget spying 101?”

Her voice dropped into a dangerous whisper.

“Burner phones are supposed to stay burned.”

I rolled my eyes. “Relax.”

She crossed her arms. “You say that like the last ten explosions were relaxing.”

“There are exactly three people in the world capable of tracking my burner phones.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes.

“Only three.” I clarified.

I glanced at the screen and then sighed. “Make that two.”

She stepped closer. “Who is it?”

I turned the phone so she could see.

Caller ID: Peter Parker

Yelena mouthed a silent oh shit and I hit the speaker.

“Sup Parker,” I said casually.n“Sorry, I’m busy. Call me later.”

“Hang up on me now,” Peter’s voice rasped through the speaker, “and every undercover Widow in New York will be executed. There are one hundred and fifty.”

Yelena blinked.

“That is not Peter’s usual negotiation style.” I said.

I leaned toward the phone.“Peter.”

My voice softened. “Is something wrong?”

A pause.

Then, “Yes.”

Another pause.

“Is Yelena Belova there?”

Yelena straightened instantly.

Peter added dryly, “The question is rhetorical.”

I gestured the phone towards her and she wiped blood from her face and smoothed her shirt like she was about to walk into a job interview.

Then she leaned toward the speaker. “Yes?”

Peter didn’t waste time. “Three days ago,” he said coldly, “a nineteen-year-old brunette CIA operative was captured by Widows in Guatemala.”

My stomach dropped.

“One day later,” he continued, “another woman. Mid forties or possibly early fifties. What do you know about them?”

Yelena rubbed her temple. Her eyes moved slightly as she searched through memory and then she snapped her fingers. “The younger one.”

“Yes?”

“She was operating under the alias Teresa Durand.”

Peter didn’t respond.b“And the older woman?”

Yelena frowned. “Unidentified.”

“That means?” Peter asked.

“She’s high-level.” Yelena said.

“How high?”

“Top shelf.”

She hesitated. “Possibly intelligence legend level.”

Peter went quiet. Yelena added quickly, “Please don’t kill the Widows.”

Peter ignored the plea. “Bring the synthetic gas and prepare for teleportation.”

The call ended.

Yelena stared at the phone. “What the fuck does he mean by teleportation?”

I grabbed the metal case containing the gas.n“With Peter?”

I opened the case. “Take everything literally.”

She blinked. “Nat.”

“Yes?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we’re about to disappear.”

Right on cue, a grenade flew through the window and we dove for cover.

The flash erupted and the world vanished in blue light.

General Dreykov POV:

“Report.”

There was silence for a moment.

“There's no one here, General.”

Okano's voice came through the bodycam feed.

She is one of my finest Widows.

I watched the live footage from her visor. The Budapest safehouse was empty with furniture overturned and broken glass everywhere.

There wasn't any bodies of Natasha and Yelena and there was no gas.

I slammed my fist onto the desk. “Search every nook and cranny of Budapest!”

My Widows moved instantly like obedient shadows but rage burned in my chest.

The world had become insane. Ever since the emergence of Parker Industries, since the Avengers began playing gods. I had carefully avoided provoking them.

My Widows operated in the shadows but even shadows sometimes cross paths with monsters.

My Widows encountered the Spartans of Parker Industries twice and both times it ended badly.

Those armored soldiers fought like machines. There was no hesitation, no mercy and only the impossible supremacy.

They ignored gunfire even from vehicle mounted rotary cannons and Parker’s technology… was unnatural. Fighting against his weapons felt like fighting the future itself.

I walked down the corridor toward the holding cells.

My empire must remain strong and for that fear must remain intact.

Inside the cell sat two prisoners.

One was a young brunette with defiant eyes. Even restrained she radiated the confidence of a trained operative.

The other woman sat quietly beside her. Her raven hair streaked with grey. She was older but her posture betrayed decades of discipline.

I had examined the locket we took from her and inside was a photograph of family picture.

That picture held a very young Peter Parker and that led to DNA verification.

I smiled slowly because the results were extraordinary. The girl was Teresa Parker and the woman beside her was Mary Parker.

They were mother and daughter which meant something very interesting.

Because their capture changed everything.

Effective immediately, The Red Room had declared war against two global juggernauts.

Parker Industries and the Avengers.

I leaned closer to the cell glass.

The younger girl glared at me while the older woman watched silently.

Smart. Very smart.

Fear makes people stupid and discipline makes them dangerous. I turned toward the desk and perhaps this situation could still benefit me.

After all, even monsters like Peter Parker have weaknesses.

I picked up the secure landline. “Lerato.”

“Yes, General?”

“Send Taskmaster.”

“For what mission?”

I smiled coldly. “Find the Red Dust.”

Because if Peter Parker wanted a war, then I would give him one.