Alina Shostakov is a Alexei Shostakov's daughter, trafficked to the Red Room with her siblings, Natasha and Yelena only she was there since birth, having no choice but to do as the said.
During a mission, she meets Wade Wilson, a mercenary with a l...
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Wade yelled, turning back around.
"Hey, um..." Weasel trailed off.
"Whoa! Whoa!" Wade continued to shout angrily.
"Relax. Relax. Okay." Weasel tried. "Okay. I think that's a good start."
"Oh, I'm gonna rip his motherfucking-" Wade was cut off by a phone ringing. "Find that. Find it."
"What?" Weasel asked.
"I'm gonna get angry." Wade stated firmly.
"Okay. Alright." Weasel went to grab it, opening the text. "Here. This is Alina."
"What?"
"No, wait. It's Francis." Weasel corrected himself. "He wants you to come to him."
"What is that?" Wade questioned, pointing to the 💩 on the screen.
"That's the shit emoji. You know, it's the turd with the smiling face and the eyes? I thought it was chocolate yogurt for so long." Weasel rambled.
"I need guns." Wade stated.
"Okay, which ones?" Weasel quizzed.
"I need all the guns!" Wade kicked the table, fuming and Weasel moved away.
"Alright. Okay."
The pair started to load guns into a duffel bag, Wade now in his suit. He grabbed guns from behind beds, the ones taped to the underside of tables and behind his bed. Al pulled some from boxes and Weasel poured many boxes of ammo into the bag.
"That's about 3,000 rounds." Weasel said.
"We all know what I can do with 12." Wade said to the camera. He then looked to see Al at the door with a large gun pointed at them. "Hey, hey, carful with that, Ronnie Milsap! We're downrange."
"I was gonna spend the night assembling the Börje, but this is holding my interest." Al spoke up.
"I told you, we're going with the Urvaj, not the Börje. Get it through your head or get out of fuck town." Wade snapped.
"Shit. That's all the pieces in the house." Al lied.
"Nah, nah, nah, nah. Come on. Let's go. Cough it up. Up, up, up." Wade said and Al lifted her trouser leg. "Oh. Down, down, down."
"Fuck you." Al sighed, slapping the small gun into his palm and it stuffed it into the back of his suit.
".45 cal. I like it." Weasel mumbled as Wade hauled the duffel bag onto his back. "Wade... I'd go with you but I don't want to."
Wade nodded, slapping his shoulder as he left the room, stopping at Al, "Uh... Listen, Al... if I never see you again, I want you to know that I love you very much. And also, uh, there's about 116 kilos of cocaine buried somewhere in the apartment right next to the cure for blindness. God luck."
Wade left and Weasel looked to Al, "You wanna get fucked up?"
-
Angel dragged a drugged up Alina over the platform where she and Francis were working. The Widow had woken up from the drug but her body was still stumbling and her mind struggling to comprehend a lot of stuff. If she was fine, she would have been gone by now. Alina's slurred mumbling was muffled by the tape around her mouth.
"Put her down over here." Francis ordered and Angel sat her down, strapping her hands to a metal frame and she mumbled again. "Go on then." Angel pulled the tape from her lips.
"Thanks, baldy." Alina slurred.
"Wow. You're a talker, too. You and Wade." Francis said.
"I tried to tell you but you drugged me. I'm the wrong woman. My old boyfriend, dead." Alina told them.
"See, I thought that too. But he keeps on coming back. Like a cockroach but uglier." Francis mused and Alina straightened up, leaning on the metal frame a little. "Now, I may not feel, but he does. Let's see how he fights with your head on the block."
