Turbulence

For Odette

The sounds of children laughing haunt Natasha as she calmly sits in the lobby after requesting a room she waits for.

Twelve employees have passed. They wear blue skirts or pants, too slim on pocket space for Natasha to merit a kidnapping and quick change. The maid holds more options but possibly less clearance.

She studies the vacation map versus the schematics. She decides it's time, following a maintenance man with his excessive utility belt and large metal cart on wheels into the elevator with a light chuckle.

"Sorry,' she mutters as he stops the door for her to enter, 'forgot my swimsuit. The husband took the kids down to the pool without me."

The man rolls his eyes.

He is more offended for the family trying to enter behind her when Natasha shuts the door.

"Huh," he huffs in judgment.

"This isn't personal," Natasha throws a fist into his face, knocking out her first target. She digs through his pockets and collects the stray items.

The facial mechanism in her bag is glued momentarily to his forehead while she changes. Natasha completes her self-imposed tasks and tosses his unconscious body into his cart.

She swipes a key card to access the basement level and steps out whistling, wheeling her cart into a quiet corner. She continues down the corridor, walking at a casual pace.

"Jen?!" Natasha gasps, seeing Walters clutching her wrapped arm in a blue uniform.

"Hey," Jen whispers weakly, wrapped in a hug.

Romanoff squeezes tighter before stepping back, "What happened?"

Jen lifts her arm and whispers, "Hulk suppressing bullet."

"I don't want you here."

"Well, I'm here," Jen protests.

"Hulk suppression puts you in danger,' Natasha mumbles, 'it also means you can't fight."

"I'll let that one go. I'm another pair of eyes and ears,' Jen taps her shoulder, 'and with how our weekend is going, you need someone to watch your back. I've got this. I'm still a Hulk; I heal fast."

Natasha nods reluctantly, studying Jen's every twitch, analyzing her injury regretfully.

"Fill me in,' Walters begs, 'What's the plan?"

"There's another floor below us. According to my handler, there's a door. That's where the lab is."

"Ooh,' Jen rubs her hands together, 'and you've got the key."

Romanoff nods, friendly, as two other maintenance men head up into the elevator.

"Once we get inside,' she says through her teeth, 'there's an eye scan. I have one."

"An eye?!"

"No,' she hushes her, 'with my mask. I've scanned his eye."

"Oh! That makes way more sense. From Rowan."

"From Rowan."

Natasha makes her moves, skillfully entering every door with her partner beside her.

The door to the stairs sits behind an old bookshelf;

"Tacky,' Natasha mumbles, 'you'd think this guy was 100 years old."

Jen scoffs silently.

Romanoff reveals her mask, observing Jen's reactions, "It's me, I swear."

"Right," Walters nods toward the eye scan, "Just do it."

Natasha removes it once she's in and dodges the next trap with a fingerprint from one of the keys on her stolen key ring.

With flare, the Black Widow slides across to the next hall.

"Now what?" Jen asks, still following behind as they enter a dark room.

"It should be here," Natasha searches, spinning around herself, "I don't know what I'm missing."

"The lab should be here, right? You said you had the blueprints."

"I'm somehow underprepared,' her eyebrow lifts, scanning her collection of items, 'I wasn't planning on dancing the hardest pas de deux in ballet when I took on this assignment."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

Jen smirks with a slight eye roll, "I'm not sure there is a hardest. Levels of Difficulty are subjective to the dancer."

Romanoff nods, hand moving to her pistol, "That's funny. I bet Odette would disagree."

She aims at Jen's leg and shoots.

Walters falls, clutching her bleeding limb, "Natasha!"

"It's been three strikes in a row not to mention the fact that I never told you had the blueprints. Where is he?"

"I don't know- I can't tell you!"

"Where is Jennifer?"

"Dead."

Romanoff crouches, blocking 'Jen's' hand from digging into her own pocket for a weapon and knocks her unconscious with mild rage boiling up inside of her.

Natasha can't help but ensure the injury is secure before moving on, wrapping the grazed bullet wound tightly to prevent further bleeding with little first aid scraps she has left.

"Do better next time, Odile. And screen your boss," Natasha reaches up toward her friend's forehead, removing a mask to reveal a different dark-haired woman.

Romanoff can't help her light gasp, taken back by a familiar face she feels she recognizes.

Blinking, Natasha swallows through her pounding heartbeat.

The spy raises her weapon and steps carefully in the dark room.

Romanoff blinks momentarily as she sees stars. As she's thrown into a memory from her past. A memory of when she was 13 years old, forced to hold a blade to the neck of a 'classmate' by a woman who participated in weapons training.

It's just turbulence...

"I know you're alive, Beischel!" Natasha yells as she refocuses.

Her stomach sinks.

The spy continues, "I have your second mask; there's nowhere else to run...are you going to shoot me, or do I at least get a conversation first?"

She looks up, switching where she aims as Vester reveals himself and holds a large steel door open.

"The Black Widow, in my most humble abode. I'm honored. Please,' he gestures, smug with his tone, 'step into my office, Agent Romanoff. Let's talk."

She keeps her weapon raised, exhausted and prepared to shoot the man in immediate revenge for the girl who pretended to be Rowan, for Jennifer Walters and the newly revealed masked woman.

"Sit," Vester moves a chair closer.