Dancing in Her Webs | Yelena Belova [1]

Chapter 11

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"How are you doing back there?" Yelena's thick Russian accent came through the matching headset she, Natasha and Irina wore.

"I'm kind of freaking out," the youngest of the trio exhaled, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter as the helicopter began shaking from turbulence. "Like, more than usual. At least on commercial flights and the Quinjet, I knew I was safe. But in this? The rotor could completely lock up and—AHH!" She screamed, the helicopter jerking to the left, and not from the turbulence that already past. Her eyes snapped open, "Yelena!"

She smiled mischievously, keeping her gaze on Russia's mountainous and snowy landscape. "What?"

Natasha's chuckle travelled through the headsets, "Alright, you two . . ."

"Scold Lane, not me. She's the one jerking this thing around," Irina defended, mind free of any worrisome worries of crash landing in the middle of nowhere.

"I was just messing around." Yelena met Irene's unamused gaze, smirking, "Besides, it got your mind off our doom."

Irina's merely rolled her eyes, hating how right the Widow is. "The prison should be up ahead," Nat informed. "Remember the plan?"

Yelena —now on high alert— moved her head around the cockpit on the lookout for the prison as she answered with a short "yep".

  "Break your guys's adoptive dad out of a high security prison that's heavily guarded." Irina's sighed, "And you're saying all this will go smoothly?"

  Natasha nodded, the prison finally coming into view in a faint outline. "Yeah, it should. Assuming the earpiece made it in."

  Irina rubbed her clammy hands together, "That doesn't sound promising .  .  ."

"Relax," Yelena's soothing voice hit Irina's ears, and Irene did. Within minutes, Natasha is speaking.

"Today is your lucky day, Alexei," Natasha spoke into the earpiece underneath her headset, and Irina sighed in relief. Yelena tilted the tablet in the other Widow's direction, "Move to the door on the south wall." There's a brief silence before Natasha leaned back over to the tablet, "Go left. Just don't make a scene." A few minutes roll by, and Natasha's voice turned sarcastic, "You made a scene, didn't you."

"That definitely doesn't sound promising," Irina muttered.

The two Widow's positioned the helicopter above the prison, specifically, above the middle of the prison yard. "We're gettin' you outta here," Nat said to Alexei.

Irina swallowed her fear of heights, like she'd done many times in the past, before peering out the circular window behind her. Prisoners poured out of the main building into the prison yard; some ran for an escape while most ran after one particular man in mainly red —Alexei.

Security guards began filing out of the building and other doors around the prison, running on the bridges above the prisoners with rifles in their hands as an alarm blared the same tone.

"Go to the upper level," Natasha instructed. Alexei quickly veered to the right, easily pushing a faded yellow gate open. One of the guards on the upper level lit and threw a flare at him as some of the prisoners closed in on Alexei, while most fought each other. "Move your ass, super soldier," Natasha urged.