Fragments of Us: A WinterWidow Short Story

Chapter Seven

Rescue missions weren't her usual line of work, but they had called with an urgency in their voices had left little room for hesitation. They had claimed it was an emergency, claiming she bore an uncanny resemblance to an important person in the agent's life. If the agent was disoriented, fighting between fight and flight, her presence might be the only thing to ground him.

"Agent Johnson and Agent Stanton take the left, if you see anything alert immediately. Butterfield and Armstrong you're on the right." Natasha directed, her voice steady despite the chaos they found themselves in. 

The four agents split off, leaving her to move forward through the wreckage. The scene before her was catastrophic- yellow AIM helmets were scattered like discarded toys, the bodies in matching uniforms laying with beside them. The intel given to the team assigned to the mission had been wrong. A mission meant to neutralize a threat had detonated into a disaster. Whatever new weapon AIM had been working on was beyond anything she had ever seen or heard of. Reports stated it was no larger than a phone, but the devastation around her made that hard to comprehend. It was massive, she had seen the aftermath of bombs before - but this was a totally different level of destruction.

Ground zero was eerily empty. No bodies, no fragments of weapons or casing, absolutely nothing. Just ashes weightlessly fluttering in the soft wind. The cement walls that had once fortified the building had been reduced to rubble. If the agent they were looking for had survived he had to be farther from the epicenter.

Natasha stepped over what remained of a crumbling wall, her eyes scanning the area for any sign of life. The damage lessened with each step and the hope that maybe their agent had survived grew. He had to have, he sent in the distress signal. She just needed to find him so she could get back home. To finish things with James, to start life together again.

A pair of dusty military boots caught her attention, peeking out from behind a chunk of cement that had been toppled over to lean on a second piece. Her heart lifted at the sight. They weren't AIM's unmistakably bright yellow, even covered in layers ashes they were clearly black. Raising her weapon captiously she approached the figures poor hiding spot. Each step was measured and careful, training reminding her to make sure it wasn't a trap or an enemy who swapped uniforms in a final act of desperation. Or if they were even alive.

As she rounded the debris, recognition hit her like a head on collusion. The gun slipped from her grasp, clattering to the cracked concrete. She dropped to her knees, brushing back his hair to make sure she wasn't imagining things. "James?"

Why hadn't they told her it was James? But she knew why, they didn't know she knew. She had been sent in case he was in fight or flight. In case he needed a familiar face to bring him back. Not because she loved him.

His groan brought her back to reality. He opened his left eye, the right swollen shut and turning a deep shade of purple. "N-Natalia?" His voice was hoarse, a whisper battling the pain that gripped him.

The site of him was staggering.  His left arm was gone, leaving a jagged edge of metal just below his shoulder. What was left of the leather jacket he wore was covered in mud, or was it blood? Likely both. He tried to sit up but a but crumbled back with a shar gasp, curling into himself.

"Target located, west side. Seventy-five feet from ground zero. Immediate evac needed, tell the medical team to be on standby." She relayed the instructions, hoping that the urgency was conveyed to those who would receive the instructions. She scanned their surroundings for anything she could use to clean him up but everything around them was just as filthy as he was. "James, what happened?"

"Agent Perez... I was too late. Lyles was right there. Williams - he took a bullet meant for me..." James rasped the words, each one followed by a short breath.