BOOK TWO OF ETERNAL WINTER TRILOGY
Once upon a December.
Two bodies, two souls; were molded into weapons of destruction and vengeance.
Reunited in the hush of the Russian winter.
Their mantle shattered as a scourge clung to them like shadow.
But,
A...
The streets rustled with early morning life, the scents of spices filled the air of the bazaar as men and women yelled in a fog of noise for good bargains. Seas of reds and oranges were sprayed across the crowded lane, giving the illusion of a wildfire.
Men and women huddle and shove for last handfuls of caviar and Turkish delights. Fingers stroking heavily detailed textiles and examining the ripeness of fresh fruit and vegetables.
Metal clashed metal as a finger held the trigger of a slick black sniper; Vibranium wrapped around a midnight devil. His breathing hidden under a black mask crafted to perfection. His arm concealed from the blinding sun.
James watched a man from the scope of his weapon, his next target if anything goes wrong. Another man in the palms of his hands.
"I have a clear shot Natalia."
"I know you do." Natasha came into view, her hair long and dark as coal; almost unrecognizable. She was dressed in mundane attire; jeans and sneakers. The sun flecked on her once green eyes, now coated in a deep brown. Her fingers traced the jewelry at the stand in front of her, jewels glistening like an unknown galaxy.
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She can sense her target leaning against the wood poles that kept one the tents in place. Watching the crowd, searching.
Or waiting.
"Man sure has patience." James' rough voice whispered in her ear.
Natasha moved on, keeping her attention on the handmade scarves in front of her, colorful threads and stitching spun into the fabrics. She could tell it was done with delicate hands. The man still stood in his place, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.
"Natalia?" He waited for her response.
She headed to another stand, trying to keep a good distance away from open ears.
"You know what I figured out the entire time that you were talking?"
"What?"
"That you have no fucking patience."
James smiled inside his mask. "I have enough patience for you dorogoy (darling)."
He caught Natasha's smirk through the scope of his sniper. She kept casual in the wake of morning rush hour. The salty aroma of the Marmara Sea pervaded the air around them. Men in rusty, worn down boats fished in its glistening blue mass.
The man began to move, pushing his way through the crowd. Natasha slid through them like wind. Her steps silent as she walked a few feet behind him, caution on the tip of her tongue. The man, had no name. However, he was labeled as The Merchant. Known for his dealings across the Mediterranean border. The Merchant's trades were specific; jewels, teas, spices, alcohol and weapons. Only the finest of the fine can be placed in his custody.
The mission was simple and clear. Get The Merchant, interrogate, and the rest will come into play.
Natasha hid behind a tent, changing her disguise for a new one. She walked out seconds later, her dark hair braided and her clothes thicker. The Merchant had a meeting that very morning.
With none other than herself.
She took a shortcut that she timed the day before, narrow alleys and broken fences that led to her destination. Natasha had to watch him up close to know whether or not he was the real deal. Once she examined his identity she let James take control and watched him from above. James jumped from roof to roof to keep up with the bastard.
Natasha sat in a small local cafe, the smell of Turkish coffee licked her nose as a waiter placed a cup in front of her. She stirred the deep black liquid, it was almost as thick as tar.
The man sat in front of her, she sensed his movements minutes before he reached the table. He threw his sunglasses onto the tiled surface, revealing his eyes and the scar that started from the tail of his eyebrow and across his left eye. A dealing gone wrong Natasha assumed.
"Your men know how to blend in." Natasha said as she flicked her head to both the right and left. All the "customers" identities revealed. "But not good enough."
His smile was not appealing, revealing a glimmer of gold below each canine. "A man always has to be prepared."
"Not one of your strong suits apparently." She said as she motioned her finger around her left eye.
He smiled once again but she knew he was raging inside. "Did you bring what I need?"
She wrapped her arms and leaned against the table. "That question will be answered once we're just a party of two."
Anger flickered across his eyes as he motioned for his men to leave. The entire cafe stood up and walked down to the mouths of the main street.
Her eyes were on the Merchant, his every movement recorded into her subconscious. Every twitch to every breath written across the list. He adjusted his seat, his elbow on the arm of the white metal chair. His waved his hand as a sign to continue.
She laid back in her seat, the cold metal seeping through the fabric of her shirt. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." A smirk grew across her beautiful but lethal face, a rose blooming in a sea of thorns.
"You sure know how to keep a man waiting." James said from the earpiece, standing above them in the neighboring roof. A clear and solid shot of a soon-to-be dead man.
The Merchant's eyes darted to hers.
A dead man.
He pulled his gun out but it was too late. Natasha shot him in the knee from below the table, his scream covered by the sounds of the bazaar. She pulled out the gun from under the table and pointed the barrel at his forehead. "Uh ah boy." She clicked her tongue. "We have far too much to discuss."
