Redback Widow II | Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. [9]

Face My Enemy

"It didn't work out because interspecies relationships are hard. I was a human whereas she was a demonic hellbeast," Hunter said. "He doesn't like her," Mack summarized. "You don't say," Trip said. "She's pure evil," Hunter claimed. "Hey, at least you got away from your ex. The guy I had a crush on is now the psycho locked in our basement," May said.

"You know, I wish I could relate, but all my exes are awesome," Mack said, messing with a soccer ball. "Is that right? I seem to remember an entire year where you had to pretend you liked quinoa," Hunter pointed out. "Yeah. That was a dark time," Mack muttered. "If we're talking about exes, I once dated an assassin who I still talk to, and have to tread very carefully when doing so," Fitz, Skye, Mack, Hunter, and Trip looked at the screen, where Asya's face appeared.

She had a grin on her face and snow in her hair, seemingly holed up in a hotel room. "Asya! It's good to see your face!" Mack said, standing up. "Aw, you guys miss me that much? I've only been gone for two months," she teased. Asya had been in Siberia for the past two months, running a deep-cover mission. "Two months too long. You know what day it is?" Skye asked.

"October 2--you son of a bitch," Asya muttered, leaning back and running a hand down her face. "Wait. What's so significant about today?" Hunter asked. "Today's my thirtieth birthday," Asya mumbled. "And you're on a mission?" Mack exclaimed. "Listen, it's no big deal to me. Anyways, I have to go. I've got a lead, and I need to see where it goes,"

---

I sighed, closing the laptop and leaning back. Flashes of the night I was kidnapped flooded my features, hints of previous lonely birthdays appearing alongside them. I reached under my bed, withdrawing a bottle of vodka I had picked up a few weeks ago and uncorking it, taking a big swig. A numb sensation spread through me, and I took another drink before putting it back.  With a huff, I sat back down in front of my laptop and pulled up my tracker.

He was in the warehouse. It was time to strike.

-

I crouched down, watching the exchange carefully. My target, Demidov Ivanovich, was watching to the side. A mean, stoic man, he had been trading away intelligence and resources that were putting people in danger. Coulson assigned me to follow and neutralize him seven weeks ago. I had spent this time setting up a cover, watching his every move, and finding the right time to strike.

I silently assembled my sniper rifle, the task muscle memory at this point. A bullet slipped out of the magazine, clattering against the cold, hard metal flooring I was sat on. "Что это было?" Ivanovich barked. "Что ты делаешь? Иди исследуй!" He barked. Their boots pounded towards me as I pressed my back to the crate behind me, my rifle laying beside me as I withdrew and loaded my pistol.

Checking the silencer, I fired three bullets at the three men approaching. Three shots, straight in the forehead. They were dead before they hit the ground. "Что это? Что ты видишь?" Ivanovich demanded. I picked up my rifle, lining the crosshairs up in front of my eye, pulling the trigger.

Right in the head. "Target neutralized," I reported, my radio blipping as I activated it. "Good work. Now, get back here," Coulson ordered. "Wow, I thought you'd be happier to hear my voice," I teased. I could practically hear him smiling on the other line.

"Get back here. We miss you," he said. "Let me call the feds, then I'm on my way," I said, putting my radio away and pulling out my burner phone, dialing the police. "Здравствуй. Я в час тридцать семь, Лу Лейн. Кажется, я слышал выстрелы, а на полу сидят люди." I said, faking an accent. "Кто это?" The man on the other line asked. "Ой, просто озабоченный гражданин," I said nonchalantly.