After Bill puts a bullet in Beatrice's head, Bill joins forces with Dreykov and The Red Room. Weary of this, former agent Natasha Romanoff code name Black Widow decides she needs to join forces with Beatrice Kiddo code name Black Mamba. Whilst being...
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The fire crackled softly in the cabin as the team regrouped. After the ambush and their narrow escape, the tension in the air was thick. Beatrice sat at the table, her katana unsheathed and resting on her lap as she meticulously cleaned the blade. Across from her, Natasha studied a map spread out on the table, tracing potential routes with a finger.
Yelena leaned against the wall, tossing her knife lazily in the air, while Alexei reclined in a chair, nursing a bruised shoulder. "This wasn't a random attack," Natasha said finally, breaking the silence. "They knew exactly where we were. That helicopter wasn't just luck."
Yelena snorted. "You think Dreykov has Widows scouring the entire world for us? Please. Someone told them where to find us." Beatrice didn't look up, her voice steady. "You're right."
Natasha's gaze snapped to her. "What do you mean?" Beatrice set her katana aside and folded her hands on the table. "Dreykov and Bill. Their network isn't just about soldiers—it's about information. Spies, operatives, informants. If they're working together, they're monitoring everything."
Alexei grumbled, "So, what? They hacked us? Bugged the jet?" Beatrice shook her head. "No. This was something more direct. Someone close to us tipped them off." (lmao getting reservoir dogs flashbacks)
The room fell silent. Natasha's eyes narrowed as she studied each of them in turn. "We don't have anyone close to us," she said cautiously. Beatrice held her gaze. "Are you sure about that? Dreykov is known for planting agents in places you'd never suspect."
"Hey," Alexei interjected, sitting up straighter. "Are you accusing one of us?" Beatrice didn't flinch. "I'm saying we need to consider every possibility. Dreykov's reach is long. If Bill's involved, it's even longer."
Yelena laughed bitterly. "Great. As if we didn't have enough problems, now we're playing spy-versus-spy." Natasha stepped between them, her voice sharp. "Enough. We're not turning on each other." Beatrice raised an eyebrow. "I'm not suggesting paranoia. I'm suggesting vigilance. There's a difference."
Natasha crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "And how do you propose we figure out who the mole is? Start interrogating each other?" "No," Beatrice said. "We keep moving. We stay ahead of them. And we don't trust anyone outside this room." Yelena threw up her hands. "Wonderful. Trust issues all around. Very healthy."
Later that night, Natasha sat alone at the table, poring over files and maps on her laptop. Beatrice entered the room silently, her katana now strapped to her back. "You don't trust me," Natasha said without looking up.
Beatrice stopped in her tracks. "I didn't say that." "You didn't have to," Natasha replied. "You think one of us is working for Dreykov." Beatrice pulled out a chair and sat across from her. "I don't trust Dreykov. Or Bill. And I know how they work."
Natasha leaned back, her eyes narrowing. "So, what's your angle, Beatrice?'' Beatrice met her gaze, unflinching. "I want them dead as much as you do. Bill ruined my life. Dreykov's methods came from him. If they're still working together, they're both responsible for everything the Red Room did to you—and everything Bill did to me."
Natasha considered her words, searching for any sign of deceit. Finally, she sighed. "If you're wrong about this, it could tear us apart." "If I'm wrong," Beatrice said, "then nothing changes. But if I'm right, and there's a traitor in the mix, we'll never see them coming unless we're prepared." Natasha nodded slowly. "Fine. But we're doing this my way."
The next morning, the team gathered in the cabin's main room. Natasha stood at the center, her expression grim but resolute. "We can't stay here," she began. "Dreykov knows where we are. We need to move, and we need to move fast." Alexei grunted. "Where to? Another frozen cabin?"
"No," Natasha said, spreading out a map. "We're going to Budapest." Yelena's eyebrows shot up. "Budapest? Seriously? I thought we agreed never to go back there." "We didn't agree on anything," Natasha said. "Budapest has safehouses, resources, and a network I can trust."
Beatrice leaned over the map. "And Dreykov's not expecting you to return there. It's a good move." Yelena groaned. "Fine. But if I have to hear one more story about Budapest, I'm throwing someone out of the jet." Natasha smirked slightly, but the tension in the room didn't lift. "Mason's prepping the jet now. We leave in an hour. Stay sharp."
As the team packed up, Beatrice slipped outside, scanning the snowy treeline. The cold air bit at her skin, but she welcomed it—it kept her alert. Her instincts told her something was wrong. The ambush, Taskmaster, the timing—it all felt too precise. And then there was the matter of the photograph she'd found in the safehouse, the image of Bill standing alongside Dreykov.
"Old ghosts," she muttered, her breath visible in the frigid air. She turned back toward the cabin, only to freeze. A shadow moved at the edge of the trees—a figure watching her. "Who's there?" Beatrice called out, her hand moving to her katana.
The figure didn't respond. Instead, they melted into the trees, disappearing without a sound. Beatrice's grip on her sword tightened. Whoever it was, they weren't just a scout. They'd been observing her specifically.
She turned and headed back into the cabin, her mind racing. If Dreykov and Bill were truly working together, the enemy wasn't just outside. It might already be inside.
- a/n - so it turns out i've been mispelling Bea's name and it's Beatrix so from now on im gonna spell it the right way 😭😭😭😅
