Prologue

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2004

The feeling of Vienna Retnikopf's shoes slamming down against the concrete roof distracted her more than she thought it would. The pain of it caught her attention with every step. She was running for her life, towards a man she had never met before, and all she could think about was the fact that her shoes' soles were too thin to be running like that.

Vienna tried to keep her eyes up as the roof door slammed open. Tried to keep her eyes on the red hair being blown by the wind in front of her.

If she stayed with Natalia she would be safe. Nat had promised. No more lying and sneaking around. This was the last push. The last push to freedom. They were leaving the Red Room for good.

And then she tripped.

Vienna Retnikopf tripped because she didn't lift her foot high enough to keep stride as she ran over a rising platform on the roof.

Five years of rigorous training. Training so brutal she was one of three that survived in her class. And tripping is what would kill her.

The pain of her nose breaking against the concrete floor, that was determined to break her feet, felt like punishment enough as it burned through her face.

"No!"

Natalia screamed. Her voice sounded almost strangled as she was dragged from the roof, clawing at the concrete, by the man she had reassured Vienna was there to save them. Clint Barton. Their hero. Reduced to a kidnapper ripping a twenty year old girl away from her baby sister.

Youngest of three but neither of them had seen Yelena since the Red Room had split into five. Shipped off to Dreykov and his chemical research, while Natalia and Vienna stayed with the Headmistress to dance the Swan Lake.

The Red Room soldiers were too close. Natalia and their hero, too far away. Part of her wanted to curl up on the cold floor as if the foetal position could save her from a bullet. But that wasn't how they were trained.

Vienna dragged her knees along the floor and placed her feet back underneath herself. She stood in silence. The sound of steel toed boots scraped along the concrete as the soldiers stopped, guns ready to fire any second.

She watched the jet take off. Its engines blaring a deafening rumble as machine gun fire followed it.

Her safe trip to the West. Gone.

As the rumble stopped and the lights of the jet faded into the night, a blood curdling rage ripped through Vienna's veins. Towards Natalia for being weak enough to be overpowered by a westerner. Towards the fact that she was going to die— or worse, stay in the Red Room.

She turned without a word or a sound, just a venomous glare in her eyes.

If she was going to die today, so was everyone else she could take with her.

Her shoulder dipped. A bullet hit the air vent behind her.

Vienna darted forward and appeared underneath the closest soldier's machine gun before he had a chance to lower it. She knocked the gun up and hid behind his body as more bullets poured her way. The body went limp and Vienna pushed it into the next soldier, toppling him enough to take his gun.

A shot to the soldier with no gun and she made a quick count of the rest.

Three more.

Pressing the gun firmly down, she used it to duck and roll behind the nearest venting unit for cover. Her back hit the stone and she was poised for her next move.

She had trained for this. Unimaginable odds. One against a whole building.

Every time her head came into view a soldier fell. Her aim was impeccable. And luckily for her, their aim was not.

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