black widow movie | dear violette romanoff,

chapter eight | duck and cover

The pillar smashes into the East wing. Yelena is naturally higher up and breaks the glass to a window, landing herself alone in a reception room. Nat and I fall onto the flooded terrace, doing remarkably well to land flat on our feet.

"Okay?" Natasha asks, staring at the widow, who is now laying in ankle-deep water. It has built up due to constant rainfall.

I only become aware that she is asking me after the second question.

"Are you okay?" she repeats, agitated.

"Okay." I answer and stand up, waiting for Yelena to appear, but she doesn't. She needed to give us a vial immediately.

We move closer to the girl, who's sobbing now.

"Hey," Nat says firmly. "Don't move. You're hurt. Let me help you."

She breathes and shakes.

"Nat, don't."

I'd been this girl before.

Suddenly, she holds her arm out in front of her. The leather brace around her wrist projects the same glow that the vial does.

"I don't wanna do this," she cries. Her voice is strained, and her body is frozen. She sobs harder, bracing herself for something.

"Yelena!" I shout.

"What are you doing?" Nat asks, concerned.

"Nat, we have to go," I tell her.

"What are you doing?" she repeats.

"He's making me," she whimpers. Dreykov.

The whirring from her arm intensifies, and she points her fist at her face. Something travels through her brace, and a red vibrance descends from her face. The life in her eyes dies in split seconds, and her breathing is no longer detectable.

I sigh.

Nat walks closer and drops onto her knees to examine the body. She breathes hard, and Yelena appears the side of the building. She's holding one of the vials in her hand, ready to give it to the dead girl in front of us.

"Do you believe me now?" Yelena asks, packing the vial away and into her backpack.

"How many others?" Nat asks, beside herself.

I shake my head. There were too many.

"Enough." Yelena answers.

She walks back inside, and I follow eagerly.

I feel for Nat, but I don't say anything.

We run over the main road until we reach a side street where Yelena's and four other motorcycles are parked.

"Which one's yours?" Nat asks.

"Black. Brown seat."

I race over. "I better not be in the fucking middle!"

"Tough luck," Nat shouts.

"Where are my keys?" Yelena slows down.

Nat dangles them in front of Yelena's face and climbs onto the motorcycle.

"...aх, сука," ("...ah, bitch.") Yelena curses.

Two cars appear from nowhere. They smash together and land on the main road, almost blocking our exit.

Yelena and I stare, stunned.

"Any day now," Nat shouts in annoyance.

I climb on and grab her waist, trying to get as far forward as possible.

Yelena gets on behind me. "My ass is hanging off my own motorcycle!"

"Tough luck," I quote Nat, who charges forward the moment Yelena is on.

A questionably colored car chases after us as Yelena reports, and Natasha speeds up.

"Nat!" I shout.

"I know!" Natasha stops the bike and turns abruptly, just missing a delivery truck, which is toppled over by the monstrous car behind us. We ride through a side street to make a getaway.

We make it onto another road: this one is busier and crowded with unsuspecting vehicles. Instead of a car, there is a single motorcyclist.

Nat rides over the train tracks moments before a train passes, blocking the rider from staying closer with us. She slams the bike against a half-wall separating us and a freeway. We topple over the wall and onto the freeway, causing a civilian to shout and slam the breaks on their car.

The man climbs out of his car and starts to speak Hungarian, "Jól vagy?" ("Are you okay?") he asks, and Yelena sticks her gun up at him.

"Jesus, Yelena," I pant, getting into the passenger's seat.

"Fantasztikus," ("Fantastic.") Yelena replies. She gets into the driver's seat.

"You can't just steal a guy's car," Nat scolds her. "Get out of my seat. Violette, get in the back."

I look at Nat. "What?"

"So you want me to chase him down and un-steal it?" Yelena growls. "Move it, child," she demands, and climbs over into the passenger's seat with me.

I groan and sit in the back.

"Drive, Natasha!" I shout, seeing the motorcyclist.

Instead, Nat takes a slow reverse option, banging softly into the front of the parked car behind us.

"Okay. Any time, now," Yelena shouts.

"Shut up!" Nat retorts.

A gun fires, shattering the car window as Nat finally decides to drive forward. She makes up for the slow start by speeding past the other cars.

However, the motorcyclist is fast approaching. I make the valued guess that it's another Black Widow, but I can't be sure.

"Okay, can we please do something about that?" I request.

"Oh, yeah? What are some of your ideas?" Yelena throws me her gun.

Natasha drives maniacally.

I roll down my window and stick my head out. I start shooting at the person. I run out of bullets faster than Nat is driving. I throw Yelena the empty gun and stick my middle finger out the window at the cyclist.

"Nice, Violette. That was really helpful."

The back window shatters, and I drop before a bullet can hit my head. Yelena ducks.

I snicker, sitting back up to look at the person on the motorcycle. "What's your plan, then? Duck and cover?"

Yelena looks at Natasha for ideas.

Natasha is speechless.

"Okay, you got a plan, or should I just stay duck and cover?" Yelena groans.

"Yeah, my plan was to drive us away."

"Genius," I state, watching the person close in.

"That's a shit plan," Yelena remarks, pulling the wheel and performing a 180. We are facing the motorcyclist now but can't see what's actually in front of us.

She kicks her side of the car's door open, and it hits a stop sign, causing it to fall and knock the widow off of their motorbike.

Natasha swerves the car around, and we return to the correct position.

"You're welcome," Yelena sighs.

We make it back onto the freeway with spinning heads. Nat smashes into multiple cars.

"Oh, shit," Yelena swears. She's looking behind us. "He's back."

I turn around instantly, ducking my head as another round of bullets ram into the back of the car.