❝They're a ghost story, you'll never find them.❞
IN WHICH A GHOST STORY OF A SUPER VILLAIN BECOMES AN AVENGER'S REALITY
BOOKS ONE, TWO AND THREE
[CAPTAIN AMERICA:THE WINTER SOLDIER , AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON , CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIV...
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VIOLET DREAMT ABOUT WHAT THE SOLDIER HAD TOLD HER THE NIGHT THEY KILLED DIRECTOR FURY.
The building was dark. The air was stagnant, the lights were off, and only highly trained ears could hear the two separate, levelled gasps of breath every so often.
A figure sat, illuminated only by the street lamps outside. After lifting the car earlier that day to find nothing but a scorched hole in the asphalt and mo dead body of a Nicholas Fury, the assets had been sent back out to complete their mission. The two had been hunting all day for the Director, and had tracked his location to the apartment of a mister Steve Rogers. The Director was in the apartment building across the way, and Violet had been waiting for the Winter Soldier to arrive from scouting the location before they were to carry out their mission.
"You need to be quieter, soldier." Violet hissed in Russian, scolding the Winter Soldier as he stepped in the line of her enhanced sight. A knife glided through the air and the Winter Soldier caught it between his thumb and forefinger, stopping it before it would've cleanly taken an eye out.
His enhanced eyes traced her body as she sat lazily in an armchair; her feet hung over the right arm rest, her back pressed against the left. In her left hand, a switch blade danced around her nimble fingers, whilst her right forefinger absentmindedly twirled her hair. Resting on her thighs were some green leather folders she had stolen from the night before. The soldier stood in the door frame to the office space, a sniper rifle hung loosely from his shoulder, as he eyed the files on her lap with caution. Why she felt the desire to steal information from Pierce, he had no idea. It would only bring her pain and misery, should Pierce catch her.
They made eye contact and she winked at him, a smirk on her full lips. Despite being a highly qualified assassin with no purpose other than to kill, she still managed to make fun for herself. At least, he could only assume that was what fun was. A cheeky comment here and there, a feisty defiant attitude against their superiors. He supposed it was rebellion from being raised in such an organisation. But he knew better. He wouldn't allow himself to indulge in such ways. They would just throw him back into the ice.
He stood there in silence, motionless, as his eyes pierced into hers. It was getting late, and she knew that. With a huff, she slid the folders back into her inner pocket and swung her legs round before she stood up from the chair. His gaze lazily dragged up the female's purple webbed legs, even though her skin was mostly covered by her coveted thigh high boots. Her hips swayed, almost flirtatiously, as her long legs strode with confidence towards him. She brushed past him on the way out of the room, and looked over her shoulder; her eyes hooded and a seductive smile on her face. It was time.
There was nothing more rousing, Ultraviolet thought, than a good assassination. The soldier joined her side as they made their way to the rooftop, where they stood at the edge of the building and he took aim. The wind made his efforts slightly more difficult than they needed to be, as his mind began to whir and calculate the exact angle he needed to shoot at in order to be able to hit the right target. If the wind were to blow at a certain time then the bullet would need to be at a certain trajectory - and then, suddenly, he was distracted. He was not normally one to get distracted, and in this particular moment, he was furious that his thoughts had been taken from him. His head whipped towards his accomplice.
