𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 || 𝐍.𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟

『 Chapter three 』

❝You're S.H.I.E.L.D, you're our enemy❞

♡₊˚ ⴵ・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Aurora

As I slipped through the labyrinth of dark and grimey alleyways, I kept my eyes open for my target. The last member of the group. The gunshot wound was nothing more than a dull ache now - I'd applied numbing cream as it was stinging quite badly before I'd left to complete the mission. It had been only a few days since I got injured, yet they still sent me back out. I pleaded with them to give me more time to recover, but the mission was too important to wait.

My final target.
No, your final target from that group.

"Get out," I muttered harshly, shaking my head roughly.

Concentrate on the mission!

My gaze was fixed on the woman leaning against a dumpster, cigarette in between her fingers and lips, taking long drags of it. A pungent smell told me it wasn't just tobacco, and I wrinkled my nose with distaste. How could anyone smoke that vile stuff?

Quickly getting rid of the thoughts that wandered from the mission, I looked around the area, studying it carefully. There was no way for the woman to escape, unless she fought through me. Carefully, I slipped out from my hiding place. I had to be careful - this woman was an ex-widow, and highly dangerous. As I slipped from one shadow to another, she looked up, her attention caught. I spotted her hand discreetly reach into her waistband as she pulled out a gun. Oh not another one. I silently scoffed.

"Покажите себя," she spoke, her voice quiet, yet it still echoed. (show yourself)

I waited for a few moments, watching her movements with narrowed eyes, before stepping out of the shadows. Her eyes widened as her gaze lingered on the emblem on my belt and she gasped.

"Красная комната!" she gasped, holding her gun up to me. (The Red Room)

"Положите его," I warned, nodding to the gun. (put it down). "Вы знаете свою судьбу." (you know your fate)

The woman's eyes narrowed and she shook her head.

"Вы действительно хотите продолжать работать на этого человека?" she questioned. (do you really want to continue working for that man?)

I hesitated to reply. Did I? No. Yes! No. Did I want to do this? Was this what I signed up for?

Kill her!
I can't!

"Я не буду повторяться. опустите пистолет." (I won't repeat myself. Put the gun down)

"No," the woman replied in English, her Russian accent thick. "I won't back down. You don't want to be doing this."

I lowered my head ever so slightly, calculating my next moves.

"Do you really want to fight me?" she inquired. "I'm the one holding the gun."

"Not for long," I hissed, before jumping forward, sweeping my leg against hers.

The woman leapt out of the way, rolling over until our positions were the opposite of before. Her gun was held to my head.

"I'll give you the chance to leave now," she offered. "I don't care where you go. Just leave. You know the movement is doing right."

"Never," I spat.

The ex-widow narrowed her eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you, but if I have to to ensure my survival, I will," she told me in her thick Russian accent.

"I'd like to see you try," I threatened, leaping towards her again.

She grabbed my arm and spun me around, but I quickly twisted out of her grip, kicking her hard in the gut. Just as I reached for her gun, I felt electricity jolt through me. The woman grabbed me and threw me to the ground as I was weakened by this shock. Since when did she have widow bites on? I tried to remember seeing them, but I could've sworn her wrists were bare.

As the shock wore off, I rolled away from the woman, jumping to my feet. Once again, we were thrust into a scuffle. I found myself struggling pretty quickly - was it the electric shock? Or-

Knocked to the ground, I smacked into the wall. Groaning audibly, I tried to get up, but found myself pinned down by a boot on my chest. Looking up, I expected to see the woman. Except, it wasn't her.

Instead, it was a different woman - one wearing a similar black catsuit to me, with the red hourglass symbol on her belt. However on her shoulder was the familiar symbol of our enemy - S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Stay down," she ordered, holding her wrist to me, the bracelets lit up bright blue.

I was stunned into obeying for a split second. Her hair fell in copper red waves to about shoulder lengths, and almost seemed to flow like waves. Her eyes - although the light here was dull - glowed an emerald green one could almost call... beautiful?

Kill them both.

Swinging my leg up, I knocked the S.H.I.E.L.D agent back, before leaping to my feet and kicking her down. In a quick movement, I jumped on the ex-widow's shoulders and brought her to the ground, grabbing the gun from her hand and putting it to her head. I felt another jolt of painful electricity course through my body, but it was too late. I hadn't hesitated to eliminate the ex-widow.

"No!" I heard the S.H.I.E.L.D agent cry as I struggled to drag myself away from the dead woman below me.

Gritting my teeth to suppress a grunt of pain, I dragged myself a few feet across the floor, before pushing myself into a sitting position. I felt a boot hit my back, kicking me back down harshly. Using the little strength I still had, I kicked her back and stumbled to my feet. I smirked as I realised I had the dead woman's gun in my hand. I had the upper hand. I could easily put a bullet through this woman's head.

"I wouldn't," the red-head told me coldly. "It won't end well if you kill me."

"How so?" I inquired, equally as coldly. "You're S.H.I.E.L.D. You're our enemy."

The woman let out a short laugh, however there was no real humour in it.

"I thought that too," she said, half to herself. "But we're not."

"Alright, let's stop this, I have to get back," I muttered, putting my finger over the trigger and pulling it.

In the same second, I felt something hit me hard in the back of the head, causing blackness to wash over me and my entire body to go numb.