Forward to the Past [Steggy] ✔

Chapter Sixteen

Third Person Point Of View

Nataliya Suchkova

The gunshot blasts throughout the alley, and Nataliya Suchkova lowers the gun as Steve Rogers collapses to the ground, blood seeping out of a wound in his chest. He's not unconscious just yet, but he will be. Unconscious and dead.

"Hail Hydra." Nataliya snarls quietly, then dashes out of the alleyway, sparing a quick glance behind her only after she's out on the snow dusted streets. An unfamiliar woman with curled brown hair is rushing into the alley, but the Russian knows it's too late. Steve Rogers is dead. Her mission has been accomplished.

Pressing a button on the well hidden earpiece in her right ear, Nataliya whispers "it's finished" to her overseer, Arnold Brown. He'll be listening. He won't interfere, but he always knows what's happening. And he knows Rogers is dead.

............

One week later

Nataliya runs a hand through her blonde hair, grimacing as her fingers are stopped at a knot in the back of her head. Snarling under her breath, the Russian violently pulls on it, and the knot unravels, strands of blonde hair coming off in her hands. It had taken ages to wash out all of the dye it had taken to turn Nataliya's hair brown, and she'd just gotten used to seeing brown eyes in the mirror instead of the usual blue.

Thank God Rogers is dead. That man had been the most unbearable person she'd ever met, not to mention the fact that he always seemed to have the Winter Soldier around. It had been so tantalizing to just reach into her bag and shoot the backstabbing bastard, that Winter Soldier. Calling himself "Bucky." He'd been Hydra. One of their best assassins. His turncoat ways had helped cause the downfall of Hydra.

But no matter. Brown was rebuilding the system. And it wouldn't be too long before they became unstoppable.

Nataliya slips into a comfortable pair of combat boots over her tight Hydra suit, sliding two guns into her belt and securing them. She is to be monitoring what's left of the Avengers. Take note of their current state without their keystone, Captain Rogers. Most likely they'll be falling into disarray at this stage. It has, of course, been a week since the incident. She doubts they'll have even lasted this long.

Sliding into the drivers seat of an expensive sports car that even Tony Stark would be jealous of, the Russian steps on the gas, and the car hurtles through the streets of New York. Smirking at all of the honks and middle fingers she receives, Nataliya chuckles darkly.

She had been sick of acting. Sick of pretending she was in love with Rogers. But of course that is the duty of a skilled assassin. Get close to the enemy. Then kill them off when they're the most vulnerable. It has always been the Russian's specialty; she's known for making her victims fall in love with her. Then she murders them.

Parking the car close to an abandoned warehouse not too far from the Avengers compound, Nataliya steps out into the street, the cold wind whistling in her ears, the tips of which are sure to go numb.

The Russian approaches the door of the warehouse, sliding a high powered laser from her belt and easily slicing the chains that are currently locking the door in place. She tosses her blonde hair out of the way, stalking inside, sure to make minimal noise. It's dark, but that has no debilitating effect on Nataliya Suchkova. She has been in darker places, and her eyes are trained to adjust faster than those of a normal human's.

The stairs leading up to the highest level are steep and creaky, but this does not hinder the Russian, who sneaks up them like a cat. She is looking forward to this mission; maybe she will get to see the Winter Soldier in pain. A small smirk crosses her face at the thought; killing his best friend was a perfect punishment for what he did. Not quite as much as he deserves, but painful enough to cause Nataliya joy.

At the top of the old building, Nataliya begins to scout out the perfect spot to spy on the Avengers. As she walks, she sees a rat scurry by, and her foot flashes out, pinning down the rat's tail. The rodent shrieks, a high pitched, shrill noise, but the Russian plucks the rat from the ground, holding it upside down by the end of its tail. It continues to squeal until Nataliya jabs it in the head with her finger, at which the small animal goes silent, dazed and terrified. Sliding a small knife from next to the laser in her belt, Nataliya slices the rodent's throat. It lets out a breathy coughing noise, then falls silent as it dies. The Russian drops the animal to the floor and continues on her way.

Finally finding a good place to spy, the assassin crouches down, a pair of high powered binoculars in hand. Raising them to her eyes, she spots the Winter Soldier almost immediately, walking down the hall at a rather slow pace with someone next to him. For someone who has just lost their best friend, the Soldier looks like he's quite enjoying himself, which sends the Russian's lips into a deep, dissatisfied scowl. She focuses on the person next to him, and her eyes widen. Steve Rogers. He is alive. The assassin has failed.

....................

"You failed?!?"

Arnold Brown's cold, enraged voice does not make Nataliya flinch. It causes her insides to freeze in fear, but the assassin has been trained to show no emotion.

"You failed," Brown states again angrily, pacing the dark room. "I had faith in you, Nataliya. You have never yet failed a mission until now. And this is the one where it really counted! You were needed! And you failed!!" Brown's voice steadily rises, and his cold, icy blue eyes flash with malice. "You will get one more chance," he says in a deathly quiet voice, stopping in front of the assassin, his eyes mere inches from hers own. "One chance."

One chance is all the Russian needs. One more chance is one more than she had expected to get. She had not expected Brown to even let her live. It is out of character for him to spare an insubordinate agent. Yet she does not reveal her surprise.

"One chance," Brown says again, jabbing a slim finger into Nataliya's shoulder. "And then Steve Rogers better be dead."