"WE MUST ALL BE INSANE TO RACE RECKLESSLY ABOUT IN A WORLD FILLED WITH WITH SO MANY SHARP AND POINTED DANGERS. THAT'S JUST ASKING FOR TROUBLE."
in which valentina popov discovers her true identity and tries to reconcile with her nightmares.
first bo...
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ACT I, part i, chapter three : there's a cold road ahead
: ̗̀➛
10:55 AM. APRIL 11th, 2014.
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VALENTINA pulled a few more corn stalks out of the garden before she felt someone's hand on her shoulder. If Nadezhda hadn't said her name so soothingly, Val may have very well broken the woman's hand. She knew it was bad. Hurting people. But after all, it was what she knew.
Kneeling beside her, Nadezhda began to harvest the corn. Was this the only thing she knew? Valentina thought to herself as she moved the basket which kept the corn closer to them. That would be a nice thing to do growing up; harvesting food in the early morning instead of breaking necks in the dark of the night.
"Kak sebya chuvstvuyet tvoya noga?" How is your leg feeling? Nadezhda asked, putting another corn stalk in the basket.
"Khorosho." Fine, Valentina answered as if she were giving a status report. "YA uyedu cherez neskol'ko dney." I should be able to leave within a few days. Nadezhda sighed, staying silent for a few minutes while she continued to work. Even though it had only been a week, the old woman formed a relationship with this mysterious woman. There was still so much to learn about her. Why must she leave so soon?
Standing up from the dirt, Nadezhda picked up the woven basket of corn and gave a sweet smile to Val. Still, on the ground, the raven-haired woman looked up, studying the other's face. She had never seen a face with so much age. The wrinkles that surrounded the corners of her mouth and eyes. It was so obvious that this woman had lived a long life with just one look into those small, blue eyes. She didn't need the graying hair to show it.
With the sun shining behind her head, Nadezhda nodded her head, "YA budu gotov v techeniye chasa." I'll have food ready within the hour.
-
AND sure there was. Once Valentina had returned indoors where the cool air was, her temporary caretaker was setting a table with delicious smelling food. She wondered how she could ever go back to the bland food served at the academy or the stiff beds that she was tied to or the-
"Syad', Valentina, syad'." Sit, Valentina, sit. Nadezhda commanded. Val followed and watched her bring a plate of smaller-looking pancakes and eggs followed by a tall glass of ice-cold water.
"A teper' yesh'." Now eat. After taking a few bites of the meal, Valentina thanked her current caretaker for the meal. Nadezhda barely acknowledged the show of gratitude. Something was amiss but Val felt as if she was not equipped to deal with the inner workings of a woman she barely knew. Emotional interactions were not exactly her forte.
"Znayete, na protyazhenii nedeli budet kholodneye." You know, it will get colder throughout the week. Nadezhda stated.
Valentina took a small sip of her water, her hand immediately wet from the condensation from the glass, "Togda, vozmozhno, mne luchshe uyti segodnya, chem pozzhe." Then perhaps I should leave today rather than later.
The old woman shook her head, "Eto ne to, chto ya imel vvidu. Tebe sleduyet ostat'sya podol'she. Bol'she otdykhayte. YA uveren, chto by ty ni byl, mozhet podozhdat' nedelyu." That's not what I meant. You should stay longer. Rest up more. I'm sure whatever you are after can wait a week.
Without a beat of hesitation, Val harshly pressed her knife and fork onto her plate causing it to break into three decently sized pieces. The two simply stared at the tiny mess caused by a moment of annoyance. "Ne mozhet ... zhdat'." It can't...wait. Her hands began to tremble a bit, a rush of warmth creeping up her face. Ne nado. Don't. She snapped at herself, her training starting to kick in.
Anger. It was something the academy always got after her to control. There was always a raging part of herself that's gotten deeper and deeper over the years but for some reason, always got louder. She never knew why it was there, just that it was. It helped in times of intense combat missions but faulted her in the times where silence was key. Madame B still held the notion though that Valentina Popov was the best of the best. She was the only one besides Yelena that believed in her but in a sick, twisted way as she came to realize and is still trying to come to terms with.
"YA sobirayus' sobrat' svoi veshchi." I'm going to pack up my things. Getting up from her seat, Valentina began to clean up the broken plate and spilled food.
"Ostav' eto." Leave it.
Doing as she was told, Val left the room and headed towards her quarters. She left the door open knowing it wouldn't take long to gather her belongings as she had none. After all, she did just come from the fiery destruction of her "home". Grabbing some clothes given to her by Nadezhda and the weapons under the bed; two handguns and a dagger informally gifted to her by the infamous Winter Soldier.
The first of the guns was given to her at the ripe old age of 11. It was a black PSM pistol, a popular choice in the KGB due to its slim, compact style that made it easy to conceal. The second was an SR-1 Vektor or Gyurza (blunt-nosed viper). Allowed to pierce through 30 layers of Kevlar, it is banned in the United States but that never stopped anyone in the academy. Lastly, there was her treasured dagger. An unofficial gift given during a training session she would never forget. Unfortunately, though, she did not have time to reminisce on past events.
"Kuda ty voobshche idesh'? YA ne videl pasporta v vashikh veshchakh." Where are you heading, anyway? I didn't see a passport in your things. Val would have been mad about a random old woman searching through her belongings but it wasn't like she would have done any different in this situation.
Still annoyed though, she stuffed a pair of black socks into her nap sack. That was the last item to pack. Good. Cinching up the bag, she swung it over her shoulder and squeezed past Nadezhda with not even a second of eye contact.
After a few seconds, the old woman followed, "Pozhaluysta, ostan'sya!" Please just stay! She continued to plead. She was relentless, not even giving up when Valentina reached the front door. A weak "Pozhaluysta" Please made her turn around.
"YA ne tvoya doch', yesli vse delo v etom." I'm not your daughter if that's what this is all about. She began, no ounce of emotion in her voice or even in her eyes. "Vash mertv, kak i vy, yesli kogda-nibud' upomyanete, chto ya zdes'. Vy ponimayete?" Yours is dead and as will you be if you ever mention my being here. Do you understand?
She just nodded her head, quickly reaching into her pocket and pulling out a wad of rubles, and shoving it towards Val.
"Zdes'. YA takzhe zametil, chto u tebya net deneg. Pozhaluysta, voz'mi eto." Here. I also noticed you didn't have any money. Please take it. Her voice was shaky yet strong.
She was right though. Val had no form of currency so she politely took the money from the woman's aged hands which she took as a sign of appreciation. It wouldn't be right to leave off on such a sour note considering all that had been done for her during these past couple of days but she had to go.
Turning around, the brunette opened the door, the mid-afternoon glow of the sun shining on her face. Speedily checking her surroundings, she noticed there were other people out and about; some old, some young, some lovers, and some families. Nothing out of the usual but that didn't mean she could let her guard down. If anything, right now was the time to be the most on edge.
This is, after all, the most important mission of her entire life: discovering who Valentina Popov is.
