Enemy of Silence

22 - Feyyerverk

I don't remember how long I was in that box for, it could have been hours, days, weeks, or even months, but all I remember is the day I'd had enough. I woke up to the snores of two guards sleeping outside the cell, using my abilities to pull the light absorbed by the black walls I guide myself to the door. I close my eyes, placing my hand on the door, and feel for the blue orbs of the guards. Once I find them I concentrate on pulling them towards myself. My eyes flash yellow as I absorb the energy from the men's souls and use it's strength to break down the door. Yellow tendrils of energy flow from my fingertips as a cloud of energy follows me and I walk back to my room like nothing ever happened.

That was 30 years ago now, I relive the day on loop when in cryo, the power I felt in my body. I spent 27 years in cryogenic freezing, waking up in 1989. Zola died 17 years ago, I won't lie and say I didn't care that he died. Sure, he was a bad man, but he helped me thrive so I had a lot to thank him for. Regardless, I've taken up aerial silks again as a cure for the boredom I feel when I'm not on a mission. I have a lot of pent-up energy in my body from the last 50 years and there are only a few ways for me to release it. Sparring helps but nobody in Hydra is good enough to keep up with me anymore, sex also helps but that's a complicated affair. In the last few decades I've had sex with a few people, mainly women, but there's a nagging feeling of guilt in the back of my mind afterwards. It's not about an emotional connection for me anymore and I don't know why, it's just a means to an end. But alas we move on.

I extend my right leg in a foot lock as I curl my left leg in a gazelle position around the pole and hold that for a few minutes, feeling it stretch my body. Grab the pole that my right foot is resting in and straighten my left leg, flexing my foot. I walk my body up the right pole with my hands, gradually pushing my hips forward. With my chest up and left leg straight I hold the arabesque until somebody walks in. "Very good Agent 1." I spin down from my position and unwrap my feet, "Spasibo." I reply, "Can I help you at all?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.  "Yes actually you can," the man begins in a heavy Russian accent, "My name is General Dreykov. I oversee the Red Room." I finish drinking my water before saying, "That's still going?! Where do you find the girls? Actually wait never mind don't answer that." He chuckles at my look of disgust before continuing, "I'd like you to come train the girls. I have my eyes on a few new recruits that I think have the same potential that was seen in you all those years ago."

I fold my arms, "Okay I get I'm old no need to point it out. What would I be doing?" I ask. He smiles at my interest, an unnerving smile but a smile nonetheless, "Well you would be chief trainer for want of a better title, you'll have full say in who graduates and who does not, as well as full authority of the trainers. You can choose to help train if you would like." Dreykov explains. "I'll do it." I say, "Nothing better to do with my time." The man smiles again, "Good. Pack your bags, we're flying to Belarus in an hour." I stride out of the room and into my quarters, stuffing my belongings in a bag. The action feels vaguely familiar to me but then again who hasn't packed a bag at some point in their life?

Once we land I am introduced to a woman known as Madame B who talks me through everything they train the girls in these days; hand to hand combat, acrobatics, weapons training, tactical skills, sparring, and ballet lessons. "Not much has changed then." I comment. Madame B scoffs, "Except for the efficiency and quality of the agents we train now, much better than the old ones." She says with a sarcastic smile. "Insult my abilities one more time and you'll be the next victim in the girls' target practice. The beginners too, with no aim, who'll shoot you multiple times before you even begin to feel close to death." I scowl at the old witch, her shoulders deflated in defeat. I head to my room to unpack, living the bitch where she was.

The next year flew by, girls coming and going, until one agent stood out above the others, Natalia Alianovna Romanova. She was impeccable, a favourite of Madame B's, so naturally I was curious about her. I watched her train, I watched her match my records, and I watched her hesitate for a split second before shooting. "Natalia." I say as I walk into a cold room, holding a dark ballet studio. Her head snaps up to me and she immediately straightens. "Come with me." I order, turning to walk away. "Excuse me ma'am but she is not done yet." Madame B urges. "I don't have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel about that tone." I spit, walking away this time with Natalia following behind me. "You can speak you know," I say gently, "You're not in trouble." Natalia lets out a breath and mutters, "Slava Bogu.", causing me to laugh.

"Take a seat Nat." I tell her, motioning to the empty chair in front of my desk. "This is going to sound quite out of the blue but, uh, you remind me of me." I say. Her brows furrow, "How?" I smile, "You know that what you're doing here is wrong and yet you know you have no other choice but to do it." I explain, "You also remind me of an old friend of mine, I don't remember her name, just her power. Her ability to influence people, her strength, her compassion. That's in you somewhere and that's why I'm telling you this." Nat's eyes widen slightly as a smile tugs at her lips. "You have to graduate." I say matter-of-factly. Her smile drops, "Why?" I take hold of her calloused hand, "I know it sucks. I know what you'll lose, but you have to finish this chapter in your life. Move on, do the right thing, escape, find me, and help me tear this place down." I smile at her matching grin and she agrees, "Let's do it." I chuckle, "I knew you were a little feyyerverk. Go back to the bitch." She stands and leaves the room, a small giggle leaving her lips at the interaction and I lean back in my chair smugly.