Black Widow: Forever Red Page 11

  “Forget the Russian,” Alex said. “We need a hospital. Ava might have something seriously wrong with her. If she had blacked out any earlier, when we were back on that street in Philly…” He didn’t finish the sentence.

  “She could have gotten killed,” Romanoff said. “Or gotten us all killed.” She had no problem finishing difficult sentences, because she was Natasha Romanoff. At least, that’s what Alex figured. Russians.

  “But she didn’t,” Ava said.

  Coulson was shaking his head, and he looked more than a little unhappy. “You should have thought of all that before you brought a couple of kids into the mix, Agent Romanoff.”

  “Kids? We’re kids now?” Ava protested.

  “Oh please.” Romanoff shrugged. “Keeping Ava from Ivan was my job—how was I supposed to know the boy would follow us?” She looked at Alex. “The boy’s the real problem—he complicates everything. We’ve got to dump him. Then we’ll figure out what to do with her.”

  “Dump me?” The plane swayed, and Alex grabbed the chest strap that held him to his seat with his free hand. “What did I do? I was only trying to help.”

  “You should have stayed out of it.” Romanoff frowned. “You didn’t need to open that door, and you absolutely didn’t need to come nosing around on that roof.”

  “First a pretty girl is flirting with me and then I think I see her getting kidnapped, so I get involved. Is that so wrong?” Alex couldn’t believe it. You would think I was the one doing the attacking.

  “Flirting with you?” Ava’s cheeks went pink. She pulled her cold fingers away from him. “Was that the reason you came after me? Because you thought I was cute?”

  “Of course not,” Alex said, embarrassed. He could feel himself starting to redden. “I mean, you are cute.”

  Ava looked like she wanted to slap him. “Seriously? In a life or death situation, you were evaluating my attractiveness?”

  “No,” he said, uncertain of what to say or do. He didn’t have a whole lot of experience with girls. “That was earlier.”

  She glared at him. Alex knew he was only making things worse.

  Back it up, son. Get out. Get out while you can.

  He tried to find the right defense, but he was on foreign territory now. “Just for the record, you weren’t not flirting with me.” He jiggled his foot up and down on the vibrating metal floor beneath him, a nervous habit.

  Ava looked away. “If that was flirting what is this? A date?”

  “Enough!” Romanoff barked. “Look around you. You’re on a military transport. Nobody’s flirting. S.H.I.E.L.D. does not run a dating service.”

  “Well,” Coulson said, “technically it’s frowned upon, but I’d be lying if—”

  Romanoff glared at Coulson, and he fell silent. She looked back at Alex and Ava. “You two don’t know each other, and you don’t know what’s going on here. So how about everyone shuts up already?”

  They shut up.

  “I don’t think that’s how you talk to children, Agent,” Coulson ventured.

  “They’re not children. They’re collateral damage.”

  “In the form of children,” Coulson said carefully. “Collaterally damaged children—who you are probably collaterally damaging even more.”

  Ava growled.

  Alex could feel the tension on the deck rising.

  Instinctively he felt in his pocket, where a soggy lump of Snickers bar remained. He pulled it out. He was desperate.

  Romanoff glanced at Coulson. “Children or not, those were Somodorov’s thugs on our tail. I’m sure of it.”

  “You mean you think it,” Coulson corrected.

  “I mean I had a little powwow with one of Ivan’s hired guns. Given the choice between talking and bleeding out, he went with talking.”

  “Smart guy.” Coulson looked interested.

  “Ivan hired at least ten of them. PMCs, private military, all of them. All Russian, of course. At least he’s consistent.”

  “He really thought he was going to take you out with a few rent-a-shots?” Coulson smiled at the thought.

  Romanoff shook her head. “That’s the thing. According to our friend, the contract wasn’t shoot to kill.”

  “Why else would you shoot someone?” Alex frowned.

  “Shoot to wound,” Romanoff said. “To control them. Or acquire them. Or reposition them. It could be as simple as that.”

  Coulson seemed surprised. “You think he was herding you like cattle?”

  “That’s one theory,” Romanoff said. She sat back. “This mission, to attack us? He said it had a name.” Her eyes met Coulson’s. “Forever Red.”

  “Yeah? Snappy. Does that ring any bells?” Coulson raised an eyebrow.

  “Just one,” she said slowly. “It was something Ivan said to me. That night in Odessa.”

  “Anything else?”

  “This.” Natasha held up a black cell phone with a badly cracked screen. “Our PMC had sent a text to Ivan, right before I took him down. Two words.”

  The others looked at her, waiting. She held up the phone. Synchronization complete. She tossed it to Coulson. “Looks like we were set up. Odds are, I played right into his hands. Again.” Her expression was pained.

  “So Ivan goes after Ava because he knows you’ll come.” Coulson studied the cell phone as he spoke.

  “That’s ironic,” Ava snorted.

  “Not that ironic. I’m here now, aren’t I?” Natasha glared.

  “Sure. Eight years late.” Ava looked at Coulson. “There has to be more to it than that,” she said. “What’s the point? Why me, after all this time?”

  “And what was being synchronized?” Alex was confused.

  “And why did Ava sack out back there?” Natasha looked at the others. “I don’t know, but considering Ivan the Strange and his history with human experiments, I’m thinking it all might be related.” She shook her head. “Which is why I don’t think taking her to a civilian hospital is going to help.”

  Ava looked down, suddenly interested in her water bottle.

  “So that’s what this is? Ivan and his unfinished business?” Coulson was somber.

  “Who knows?” Natasha looked at Ava. “But I have a feeling things are only going to keep getting weirder until we figure it out.”

  Alex noticed the bottle was shaking in Ava’s fingers, and he reached over to replace it with his own warm hand. Their eyes met.

  I know. I’m worried too.

  “We can’t move on Ivan,” Coulson said. “Not yet. The DOD hasn’t even verified that he’s stateside. Nobody’s had eyes on him since Panama. As far as we know, he’s still officially dead.”

  Romanoff sighed. “Red tape is your department, Coulson.”

  Coulson sat forward in his seat, a serious expression on his face. “We’ll need to prove he’s actually in the country. Bring in some hard evidence it’s Somodorov on your tail. If we can show beyond a doubt that Ivan’s back in play, we’ll have the full resources of S.H.I.E.L.D. behind us.” He sat back. “Then I can make the red tape disappear.”

  “Or, we do it my way.” Romanoff shrugged.

  He stared at her. “Do I even want to know what that is?”

  “Do you ever?” She shot him a dark look. “It’s time for some answers. Put us down where I can get them, or I’ll land this thing myself.”

  “And where exactly is that, Agent?”

  “S.H.I.E.L.D.’s high-security mainframe. I’m thinking the New York Triskeleon. I need to track down a piece of tech, and in a level ten classified world, this one goes to eleven.” She glanced at Ava. “We can have a S.H.I.E.L.D. medic take a look at Ava while we’re at the base.”

  “The Triskeleon? Now?” Ava was clearly spooked. Whatever it was that S.H.I.E.L.D. had to do with her, Alex could tell she wasn’t a fan.

  “Right now,” Natasha said.

  Coulson’s eyes narrowed. “Let me guess. This piece of tech belongs to Ivan Somodorov?”

  Romanoff n
odded. “It did, until you and I stole it from him in Odessa.”

  Ava had gone ashen.

  “They’re not going to like it,” Coulson said.

  “They don’t have to.” Romanoff’s voice was ice. “I don’t like any of this myself.”

  “Like it? What about me? I hate it.” Ava shook her head.

  “You got a better idea? I’m waiting.” Romanoff looked at her. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

  “Ava, come on. She’s right. You probably should get checked out by a doctor,” Alex began.

  “Don’t,” Ava said. “Not you.”

  But even Alex knew Natasha Romanoff was right. There wasn’t a better option—and there was nothing else to say.

  A long minute later, Coulson sighed. “Then it’s settled. We head to S.H.I.E.L.D. I’ll get you as far as the East River docking bay.”

  “And then?” Natasha looked at him.

  “And then, you’re right. If you do have a way to walk two highly unclassified civilian kids into a highly classified facility, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”

  She nodded. “That’s okay. I’ve got friends in low places.”

  S.H.I.E.L.D. EYES ONLY

  CLEARANCE LEVEL X

  LINE-OF-DUTY DEATH [LODD] INVESTIGATION

  REF: S.H.I.E.L.D. CASE 121A415

  AGENT IN COMMAND [AIC]: PHILLIP COULSON

  RE: AGENT NATASHA ROMANOFF A.K.A. BLACK WIDOW, A.K.A. NATASHA ROMANOVA

  TRANSCRIPT: DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE, LODD INQUIRY HEARINGS

  DOD: The New York Triskeleon?

  ROMANOFF: You sound surprised, sir.

  DOD: What is it you people do in there anyway? At any of the Triskeleon bases around the world?

  ROMANOFF: Slumber parties. S’mores. Truth or dare. The usual stuff.

  DOD: And it never occurred to you that there might be an issue with things like bringing unvetted civilian minors into high-sensitivity situations requiring security clearances?

  ROMANOFF: It occurred to me, sir.

  DOD: Situations that may or may not involve matters of national security?

  ROMANOFF: I weighed those issues.

  DOD: And?

  ROMANOFF: Ivan Somodorov had just come back from the dead. I wasn’t going to let a little red tape keep me from doing what I had to do.

  DOD: Which was?

  ROMANOFF: Putting Ivan back into the grave. Then, you know. The s’mores.

  S.H.I.E.L.D. TRISKELEON BASE

  THE GREAT CITY OF NEW YORK—

  EAST RIVER

  As the S.H.I.E.L.D. plane lost altitude, Manhattan came into sight. Ava had never seen it from this perspective. From way up here, none of it seemed real.

  She traced her finger on the double-paned window of the aircraft, drawing an imaginary line from Central Park to the Empire State Building down to Battery Park, at the very bottom of the island. She drew another one out into the water, where S.H.I.E.L.D.’s massive Triskeleon base rose up round and tall with three protruding legs, becoming arguably the most dramatic New York landmark of them all.

  The circle with three branches.

  She couldn’t remember what the Triskeleon symbol was supposed to mean, but she knew it meant something. She’d spent too many solitary hours stuck in a facility with only S.H.I.E.L.D. tutors not to know that. Even so, she made a point of never going near it, no matter what it meant.

  She dropped her hand from the window.

  Prison. That’s all it means to me now.

  Inmates didn’t generally voluntarily walk back into prisons if they didn’t have to—not the smart ones. But as Ava followed Natasha and Alex along the neon-yellow-painted walkway toward the heavily defended entrance to New York City’s S.H.I.E.L.D. stronghold, she knew she was doing just that.

  The plane had landed in a half-empty docking bay beneath the East River; it had opened in front of them as soon as they’d radioed in for permission to approach. All that was left of their journey now was the short hike through the glorified aircraft parking lot into the interior of the building—maybe a hundred yards through the airstrip.

  Just keep walking.

  “You okay?” Alex looked at her curiously.

  “Fine.” As soon as Ava said the word, the roof of the docking bay began to slide shut over her head, and she felt herself beginning to panic. They were shutting her in again.

  What if they never let me go?

  She watched as the sliver of New York City afternoon sky grew smaller and smaller—until all that was left was the steel-reinforced gloom of the docking bay itself.

  It’s not 7B. Keep walking.

  Ava slowed down when she saw the glass doors to the S.H.I.E.L.D. base in the distance. She couldn’t help but hang back; she honestly didn’t know if she could talk her body into walking through the doorway.

  But I’m not staying. Natasha promised.

  The more Ava tried not to think about it, the harder it was to keep walking. Again, Alex was the one who noticed, and Alex was the one who waited for her to catch up. “Come on.” He held out his hand, and she took it. She’d almost gotten used to taking it, and that surprised her. I’m here, Ava. That’s what the touch of his fingers said. She tried to believe them, just as she tried to believe herself that nothing bad was going to happen.

  Which was impossible.

  But not when Ava held Alex’s hand. Then she felt steady.

  When even a single finger brushed against his, she felt like they were connected—even if she couldn’t explain exactly why.

  When, like now, their shoulders pushed against each other, letting their jacketed arms fall side by side, she felt like he knew her, liked her, even in some small way belonged to her.

  He was the boy she touched now, today, and that meant something. It felt like something. Either something very new, or something very old.

  He feels like home.

  With her hand in his, Ava forced herself to keep moving one step at a time, until she found they had reached the base entrance. She took a deep breath.

  A buzzer sounded—some kind of security door. A two-foot-thick, shatterproof, flame-resistant, steel-reinforced security door.

  As it slid open, the first face that appeared caught everyone by surprise. As far as faces went, this one was a good one. It was undoubtedly handsome, incredibly animated, fairly well kept, and utterly charming. Also—somewhat narcissistic, slightly rakish, borderline wicked—and surprisingly battle worn.

  Very, very battle worn.

  “Is that—?” Alex stopped dead in his tracks.

  Natasha shrugged. “I told you. Friends in low places.”

  “Agent Romanoff,” Tony Stark called from the now open doorway. “What are you doing here? Or do you just happen to be stopping by to submit your proprietary plan for alternative energy subsidies too?” He grinned.

  “Not so much,” she said, pulling him in for a hug. “I was hoping you’d be here, actually.”

  “First Saturday of the month. Where else would I be?” He cocked his head. “I thought you were hunting bad guys in Bahrain?”

  “Turns out the bad guys are hunting me,” Natasha said. “Surprise.”

  “Wherever you go, guns follow, Agent Romanoff. Why would that surprise me now?”

  “The guns I can handle,” Natasha said. “It’s the rest of it that’s getting to me.”

  “You mean the rest of them?” Tony looked past her to where Ava and Alex were standing. Ava felt her face going red.

  Natasha nodded. “Ava, Alex, this is Tony Stark.”

  “Look. It’s a small human. Hello, small human.” He waved, and Ava froze. She couldn’t help it. Like everyone else, she’d heard the sound bites from Tony Stark of Iron Man fame—of Stark Industries fame—of tabloid and headlines and fast cars and fast everything fame. Even when the only channel she had was C-SPAN.

  “Hi, Mr.—Iron—Stark.” Ava smoothed her copper curls with one hand, suddenly appearing self-conscious.

  Alex himself seemed unab
le to speak, until eventually he managed to choke out the words. “You’re—you’re him.”

  “Well, I’m not her.” Tony smiled, looking at Alex.

  “The kid says that a lot.” Natasha shrugged.

  “What’s going on?” Tony gestured, and the two of them began to walk inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. Alex and Ava hung back, following at a distance.

  “You have no idea,” Natasha said.

  As the two spoke, only Ava noticed the sudden sound of the massive exterior doors locking together as they sealed off the docking bay behind them.

  Tony stroked his chin. “Let’s see. You show up at S.H.I.E.L.D. nerve central with two small humans in tow, and one of them seems to be a redheaded Russian girl. Why is that familiar? Why?”

  “Are you finished?”

  “Oh, I think I’m just getting started.”

  As soon as they set foot inside the base, the combined influence of Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark—following up a few well-placed calls from Phil Coulson—was more than evident. Within minutes of their arrival, Alex and Ava were handed standard-issue S.H.I.E.L.D. regulation sweats—black fleece jackets and pants, all bearing the familiar steel-gray logo—as well as slightly less impressive foil-wrapped sandwiches.

  “What, no S.H.I.E.L.D. toothbrush? Socks? Sleep mask?” Alex examined his sandwich pack.

  Tony Stark looked at him. “Knock yourself out. They’re in the gift shop.”

  “They have a gift shop?”

  “No.”

  Then Natasha stepped in, and before she knew enough to complain, Ava was dispatched to the medical wing, where she was poked and prodded and examined within an inch of her life, while Alex refused to budge from her side. The moment Ava was pronounced healthy—remarkably so, given the day’s events—she was out the door with the others.

  Meanwhile, the full-court press that was Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff (“Half the Avengers,” Natasha had pointed out. “The cute half,” Tony had added.) attacked the ranking brass, lobbying to get access to the Triskeleon’s infamous proprietary mainframe. The double-teaming paid off; there was no resisting the power of a Stark-Romanoff alliance for long.