220. Warmth Beneath Steel. (Patreon)

Yelena Belova POV:

As a Widow of the Red Room, I have seen my fair share of strange things and strange things come naturally to a life built on killing.

Hell, I’ve even carried out some of the weirdest assassinations imaginable.

Once, a woman was on her knees giving a man a blowjob in a penthouse overlooking the Black Sea. I shot through the window from three hundred meters away. One bullet. It took her head and the cock that was in her mouth with it.

I’ve seen genetic monstrosities too. Abominations created when drunken Russian generals tried to tamper with stolen fragments of the Captain America super-soldier serum and the results were hulking muscle monsters with bones that snapped under their weight when they walked.

I killed them and walked away.

But never in my entire life had I experienced something as absurd as this.

One moment I was inside a rundown safehouse in Budapest and in the next moment the floor disappeared beneath me and I was sliding across a smooth steel surface.

The moment I regained my bearings I scrambled up instantly with my pistol already in my hand. I spun around, frantically pointing it at everything.

The room was sterile and had metallic floor plating with bright overhead lights.

It looked like the inside of some futuristic hospital designed by a paranoid billionaire and standing in front of us was an old man that looked to be in his sixties. He had white hair with gentle eyes behind glasses. His face was the kind of face that reminded you of someone’s kindly grandfather.

He looked at Natasha first and sighed softly.

“Natasha,” he said warmly, “you look terrible.”

His tone held concern and then he pointed casually to the side. “There’s a fridge on your right. There should be some food there.”

His gaze drifted to me. “And young lady,” he added kindly, “put down your weapon.”

That shouldn't have worked. That absolutely shouldn't have worked but somehow… Against every instinct carved into me by years of Red Room training I lowered the gun.

Natasha walked over to the fridge like she’d done it a thousand times. “Thanks, Uncle Ben.”

She opened it and started rummaging through the shelves.

“Yelena,” she said over her shoulder, “this is Uncle Ben.”

Then she looked back at him. “And Uncle Ben, this is my little sister, Yelena Belova.”

Little sister. Those two words hit me strangely and the. Natasha tossed me a small carton of chocolate milk which woke me up. And a handful of cookies.

I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I started drinking the sweet chocolate milk.

It slid down my throat like liquid comfort and I probably looked like an animal as I devoured the cookies.

“Sorry about my messy eating,” I muttered. “It’s been a long day.”

The old man no Uncle Ben chuckled softly. “Compared to how Peter and Gwen used to eat when they were kids,” he said warmly, “you’re basically an angel.”

I laughed. Actually laughed.

“Uncle Ben,” Natasha asked suddenly, her tone turning serious. “What’s happening? Peter sounded… agitated.”

The old man sighed deeply and then he gestured toward the hallway. “Follow me.”

We stepped outside the room and the corridor stretched endlessly.

It felt like walking inside a spaceship.

“Uncle Ben,” I asked cautiously, emboldened by his gentle demeanor. “Where are we?”

“Under Parker Industries headquarters.” He said it so casually it almost sounded like a grocery store location. “Sublevel Nine’s quarantine zone.”

I blinked.

“Sublevel one through eight house the Celestial Forge and other research labs,” he continued. “Sublevel nine houses the Vacuum Siphon core and the organic molecular science labs.”

I stared at him. “You said that like it’s normal.” I thought.

Natasha smirked. “It's normal for the Parkers.”

I blinked again. “When did you become a telepath?”

She laughed. “That’s the exact question everyone asks themselves the first time they see the sublevels.”

We reached a room with a one-way observation window. Inside was a sterile holding chamber and a man sat on a chair inside the white room.

He looked disheveled but his eyes… They were sharp. Too sharp.

Uncle Ben’s voice softened.

“Girls,” he said sadly, “meet Peter’s supposedly deceased father and my younger brother Richard Parker.”

I stared at the man behind the glass.

“Why is he caged like an animal?” I asked bluntly.

“After eighteen years,” he said slowly, “he shows up out of nowhere and asks Peter to rescue his wife and favorite child.”

“The child isn't to blame,” Uncle Ben added quickly.

“But after Peter treated him…” His voice trembled. “…his first words were to compliment the lab.”

Natasha looked horrified. “So, I punched him in the face.”

Uncle Ben wiped his eyes. “He chose the day of his own death anniversary to show his face and then broke Peter’s heart twice.”

I felt my stomach twist.

“After waking up,” Uncle Ben continued bitterly, “he tried emotional manipulation like the CIA scum he is.”

His voice cracked.

“And broke Peter’s heart a third time.”

I muttered quietly, “Even Alexei Shostakov wasn’t that big of a dick.”

Uncle Ben looked surprised. “Shostakov?”

Natasha nodded. “The Soviet knockoff of Captain America.”

“Isn’t he dead?” Uncle Ben asked.

“I wish,” I said. “He survived and now he’s sitting in Seventh Circle Maximum Security Prison in Siberia.”

I chuckled sadly.

“You know… I used to hate how he talked for hours about being Captain America’s equal.”

I sniffed.

“Even though the real Captain was frozen during that time.” I stared at the floor. “Some part of me misses that fake family in Ohio.”

Before I realized it, I was crying.

Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around me and Uncle Ben hugged me gently like a grandfather comforting a child.

“Look at you,” he said softly while patting my head. “Such a brave girl. You haven’t lost your kindness despite the cruelty you had to endure.”

His voice carried warmth I’d never known.

“I promise you,” he said gently, “you’ll find the happiness you deserve.”

I hugged him back and I felt safe.

Then a voice echoed through the corridor. “Uncle Ben, Miss Romanoff, Miss Belova. Please proceed to Conference Room A-3.”

Uncle Ben smiled. “Fire up the teleporter, Mr. Scott.”

“Aye, Captain.” The voice replied and the blue light swallowed us again.

Peter POV:

The conference room was massive and has a large circular table in the middle and every member of the Avengers sat around the circular table.

Tony leaned back in his chair, Steve sat upright, Thor wore his helm and beside me sat my wife, who is also the Spider-Woman.

Across the table sat Frank Castle, commander of Spartan Command.

“Son of Parker,” Thor rumbled. “Why have you summoned the Avengers?”

Tony sighed. “You know Parker, I’m starting to think you’re the Harry Potter of our world.”

I raised an eyebrow. “From one catastrophe to another.” He smirked. “Must suck to be you.”

Steve intervened calmly. “Peter called us here for a reason which means this concerns all of us.”

There was a flash of blue light, Natasha and Yelena teleported with Uncle Ben.

“Agent Romanoff. Miss Belova,” I said calmly. “Please take a seat.”

Uncle Ben waved. “Well, I’m off.”

Clint leaned forward. “Nat,” he said. “What’s happening? And who’s the blonde?”

Several photographs were projected onto the table.

“Today at eight in the morning,” I began slowly, “my family and I went to the cemetery to pay respects to my parents graves.”

Silence filled the room.

“At that moment,” I continued, “a man claiming to be my deceased father appeared. He asked me to rescue two people and they were my supposedly dead mother and a younger sister I never knew existed. Her name is Teresa Parker.”

“She’s a CIA operative operating under the alias Teresa Durand.” Bruce adjusted his glasses. “You confirmed this?”

“Yes.”

“DNA tests and PCR tests confirm the man is the real Richard Parker and not a genetic clone and according to his testimony Teresa is my biological sister.”

Tony whistled softly. “That’s… a lot.”

Steve leaned forward. “Who captured them?”

I placed one final file onto the table. "The Red Room.”

Clint’s eyes darkened. Images of Budapest flashed in his eyes. “What do we know about them?”

“Enough to act.”

I activated the display and images appeared. “The Red Room is a Soviet-era program designed to create assassins known as Widows.”

“Female children are abducted, brainwashed, conditioned, chemically subjugated and raised as killers."

“How many?” Bruce asked solemnly.

“Five thousand nine hundred eighty-seven active Widows worldwide by my estimate”

Tony blinked. “…Jesus.”

I continued coldly.

“They’re embedded in governments, corporations, military organizations. Basically everywhere.”

Thor’s voice thundered. “And yet not within thy domain.”

“Correct,” I replied. “Nor Wakanda.”

Bruce leaned forward. “What about their mind control?”

“In 1995, Alexei Shostakov and Melina Vostokoff raided a S.H.I.E.L.D research facility known as The North Institute in Ohio.”

“The stolen research allowed the Red Room to map the basal ganglia which is the cognitive center of the brain and using that research they perfected chemical subjugation.”

“A frontal assault is preferable but for that we need the Red Room’s location.” I added.

Tony folded his arms. “And how do we get that?”

“Two people are suspected to know.” I brought up their images. “Alexei Shostakov and Melina Vostokoff.”

“Shostakov is imprisoned in Siberia while Vostokoff is in hiding but according to the Hatut Zeraze she is near St. Petersburg."

War without structure is just chaos. So, I tapped the console again.

A massive tactical map of Earth appeared above the conference table and thousands of red dots filled the map. Each dot represents the location of a Widow that is known to Parker Industries.

“Here is the operational deployment.” Every pair of eyes in the room locked onto the projection. “The Red Room has 5,987 active Widows embedded across global infrastructure, governments, militaries, intelligence agencies and corporations.”

I nodded toward Frank Castle, commander of the Spartan forces of Parker Industries. “Spartan Command will handle the global containment.”

“Spartan First Battalion,” I continued, “will operate under Dr. Bruce Banner.”

Bruce blinked. “I’m sorry, I’m what?”

“You’re the only one in the room capable of safely handling enhanced individuals while also coordinating large-scale medical containment.”

I pointed to the North American map.

“First Battalion will capture and physically subjugate all Widows operating within North America.”

Bruce adjusted his glasses slowly. “Subjugate meaning…?”

“Non-lethal neutralization if possible but terminate if necessary.” I explained and Frank gave a quiet grunt of approval.

Then the map shifted. “Spartan Second Battalion will deploy across Western Europe,Third Battalion will deploy across Eastern Europe and Central Asia, Fourth Battalion will cover South America and Africa, Fifth Battalion will deploy across East Asia and Oceania.”

Tony whistled softly. “That’s a lot of ground.”

“Yes.”

I zoomed the map outward. “And that’s where the support divisions come in.”

Another layer appeared. Blue lines highlighting logistics routes. “33rd Logistics Division will provide global transportation, prisoner containment and medical deployment. 1st Naval Fleet will enforce maritime blockades to prevent Red Room asset evacuation while the 5th Air Division will provide orbital surveillance, aerial interdiction and rapid response extraction.”

Thor raised an eyebrow. “Your armies move like lightning.”

I nodded. “They have to.”

A golden panther symbol appeared on the map. “Wakanda has agreed to assist further. The War Dogs will also assist in identifying and tracking Red Room infiltration within diplomatic and intelligence networks.”

Clint rubbed his forehead.

“So basically…” He gestured at the map. “…you’re locking down the entire planet.”

“Yes.”

Natasha spoke quietly. “Peter… that’s nearly six thousand Widows.”

I looked at her. “They’re victims but they’re also assassins. I'll not endanger the life of my people to save them.”

The map shifted again and now only two blinking markers remained.

Siberia and St. Petersburg.

“Which brings us back to the primary targets.”

I pointed to the first marker. “Alexei Shostakov.”

Clint groaned. “Oh great. The Captain America Vodka version.”

The second marker blinked. “Melina Vostokoff.”

Tony cracked his knuckles. “Mad scientist mom. Got it.”

I looked around the room. “I repeat, this is no longer a covert problem. This is war.”

Frank nodded slowly. “Spartan battalions will be ready.”

I began assigning teams. “Captain America, Hawkeye, Black Widow, White Widow and I will extract Shostakov.”

“Iron Man, Thor, Spider-Woman and War Machine will locate Vostokoff while Bruce Banner will command Spartan First Battalion to capture Widows across North America. Spartan battalions two through five will begin global operations. Frank your in charge.”

Tony leaned forward. “You’re mobilizing an army.”

“I thought that was obvious.” I replied.

I looked around the table. “Gentlemen, the Red Room represents everything we stand against. Slavery, cowardice and tyranny.”

I clenched my fist.

“General Dreykov built an empire on the suffering of children.”

Steve stood. “And what are you proposing?”

I met his gaze. “Total war.”

For a moment there was silence then Captain America raised his shield and his voice echoed like thunder.

“Avengers…” He slammed the shield down.

“ASSEMBLE.”