The Pasts

Chapter 20

The next morning

The debriefing room is cold and sterile, the kind of space designed for focus, not comfort. The fluorescent lights hum faintly, casting a stark white glow over the metal table that sits in the center of the room. Natasha and Yelena are seated on opposite sides, the air between them heavy with unspoken tension.

The folder from the previous night lies closed on the table, its contents untouched since it was brought back. It feels like a threat all on its own, an object too heavy to move, as if opening it again would make everything inside even more real.

Natasha sits stiffly, her red hair tied back in a neat braid that hangs over her shoulder. She leans slightly forward, her elbows on the table, hands clasped in front of her as her green eyes bore into the folder.

Her expression is unreadable, but the tension in her jaw, the slight tightening of her fingers, betrays her thoughts.

Across from her, Yelena leans back in her chair, her arms crossed as she watches Natasha in silence. The smirk she often wears is absent, replaced by a look of quiet seriousness. For once, there's no sarcasm, no teasing. They both know the weight of what they're facing.

The silence stretches on, broken only by the faint hum of the lights overhead. Finally, Yelena breaks it, her voice soft but carrying an edge. "It's not going to open itself, you know."

Natasha's eyes flicker to Yelena, irritation flashing briefly in her gaze before she exhales sharply. "I know," she says curtly, but she still doesn't move to open the folder.

Yelena tilts her head, uncrossing her arms to rest them on the table. "So, what's the plan?" she asks, her tone laced with forced nonchalance. "Because right now, it feels like we're sitting ducks waiting for the ultimate killing machine to come knocking."

Natasha's fingers curl slightly, her nails digging into her palms as she finally looks up at Yelena. "The plan," Natasha says slowly, her voice quiet but firm, "is to stop them before they can make the next move."

Yelena lets out a soft, humorless laugh, shaking her head. "Stop them? Nat, you do realize we're dealing with the Collective and the Taskmaster. This isn't some run of the mill group of bad guys. They've got resources, strategy, and the one person who can beat us at our own game."

Natasha's gaze sharpens, her green eyes locking onto Yelena. "We've faced worse."

"Have we?" Yelena counters, her voice rising slightly. "Have we faced someone who already knows every move we're going to make before we make it? Because if so, I must've missed that day in training."

Natasha doesn't respond immediately. She leans back in her chair, her hands resting on the table as she stares at the folder. When she speaks again, her voice is softer, but no less determined. "The Taskmaster isn't invincible. They have weaknesses. We just need to find them."

"And the Collective?" Yelena presses. "What are they planning? Because it sure as hell feels like they've got a bigger picture we're not seeing."

Natasha's jaw tightens. She doesn't have an answer—not yet. Instead, she reaches for the folder, her fingers brushing against the edges as she pulls it closer. Her silence says more than words ever could.

"They're building something," Natasha says finally, flipping the folder open. "Something bigger than the Taskmaster. We need to find out what."

The weight of her words hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating. Yelena leans forward, her expression hardening as she watches Natasha scan the contents of the folder. The tension between them is thick, charged with the knowledge that whatever the Shadow Collective is planning, it's only a matter of time before they make their next move.