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CHAPTER XXXIX. Liar, liar
Elina paced the cramped alley, her mind churning as Natasha's words echoed in her head. Steve will go after Barnes himself. Of course, he would. It was practically written in the stars. Elina let out a bitter laugh, her breath curling in the chilly air. "Nat," she had said, phone pressed tightly to her ear, "you're telling me this like it's news. We both knew he wouldn't sit this one out."
There had been no room for argument. Moments later, Elina and Blake were on the move, meeting Natasha at a quiet airstrip. Celia had opted to stay behind in Vienna, promising to catch a flight back home as soon as possible. As the jet roared to life beneath them, Elina couldn't shake the growing knot in her stomach. Each minute they wasted felt like another step closer to disaster.
"Why won't he ever listen to me?" Natasha muttered, her voice tight with frustration as she piloted the sleek aircraft toward Bucharest. Her knuckles whitened on the controls, betraying a rare crack in her usually composed exterior.
Elina leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. "Because he's Captain America," she replied flatly, her tone heavy with irony. "The guy who's used to giving orders, not taking them."
Natasha only sighed, her sharp eyes fixed on the horizon. Tension rippled through the cabin, unspoken fears weaving between them like a storm ready to break.
Once on the ground, Natasha navigated the winding streets of Bucharest with surgical precision, her eyes flicking between the GPS and the chaotic road ahead. Blake sat in the back, her gaze darting anxiously between the buildings they passed.
"What if Steve doesn't get to Bucky first?" Blake asked, her voice breaking the silence. "What if it's that other guy...what's his name?"
"T'Challa. Prince T'Challa," Natasha answered without missing a beat, her tone clipped.
Blake frowned. "Yeah, him. If he finds Barnes first, this could get so much worse."
"It won't just get worse," Natasha said, her jaw tightening. "It'll get fatal. For Barnes."
Elina felt a sharp pang in her chest, a mixture of dread and something deeper—something she couldn't quite name. She forced herself to focus, pushing the feeling down. "Then we don't have time to waste."
The streets seemed to blur as Natasha pushed the car faster, weaving through traffic with terrifying ease. The wail of distant sirens grew louder, a telltale sign that their quarry was near. Then they saw it—the chaos on the road ahead. Scattered debris, overturned vehicles, and a thick cloud of dust hanging in the air.
