The Ghost [Marvel | Steve Rogers]

Chapter 65

Paris, France

Summer 2015

"You know? Not sure I would've called France."

"Well, she is working with the Russian Embassy, here. I feel like it's little mystery what she's likely doing." Nadine nearly snorted at her sister's dry response.

Nadine took a sip of her latte as Natasha settled herself into her own seat across the small patio, just barely keeping herself from wincing at the taste. Boy, did she miss the lattes from the little shop just down from her and Nina's old apartment.

"So," she murmured under her breath, just loud enough for their earpieces to pick up, "she favours this place, does she?" Natasha nearly chuckled as she lowered her own waxed paper cup from her lips.

"For some reason," she confirmed, unable to keep the wry agreement from her equally low voice. Nadine could practically feel her little sister withholding a grin. "She's good at keeping from a strict routine, but this place seems to be the exception. At least twice a week, not quite like clockwork, but close enough." She caught sight of Nat shifting out of the corner of her eye. "There's probably more going on. My money's on a regular data drop of some kind; picking up or dropping off. Either that or meeting with her handler...or she is the handler." Nadine refrained from nodding, letting out a soft, assenting hum of agreement instead. They sat in silence for a time, Natasha pulling out a book to complete her inconspicuous look while Nadine tapped away on her tablet.

"I know you used the surveillance side on your hunts," Natasha murmured after a few moments, "but I imagine it's been a while since you've used the undercover bit of our training." Nadine was tempted to spare Natasha a condescending, yet brittle smile. Instead she merely glanced subtly at the redhead—not a redhead at the moment, though, but a brunette—just in time to catch a glimpse of a smirk teasing her little sister's lips as she took a sip of her own coffee.

"Not so long as you seem to think," she answered softly. Natasha's head tilted with curiosity, asking silently for an explanation. Nadine sighed. "Natasha, I'm undercover almost everyday of my life. The only time I am not is when I'm the Ghost."

"I'm not sure that's entirely true either, Nadya." Nadine's jaw clenched, but she kept silent, keeping her eyes fixed on her tablet screen as she forced her expression back into one of bored concentration. "At least not anymore."

What was she supposed to say to that?

It didn't seem Natasha was expecting an answer, though, and the two of them lapsed into silence again to wait.

Mercifully, they weren't waiting much longer—Nadine had just been about to feign leaving when their target appeared.

"There," Natasha intoned, catching sight of their target first. Nadine subtly angled her tablet screen to take advantage of the reflective surface.

It was undoubtedly Madame B.

The years had been kind to the former Red Room supervisor. She looked good, still slender and fit for a woman in her sixties, her impeccably tailored outfit showing it off to advantage. But then, Nadine couldn't say it was surprising. General physical fitness aside, one aspect of their training had been a certain consciousness of and care for physical appearance; after all, whether people liked to admit it or not, they did a lot of thinking and subsequent judging with their eyes...or other anatomy besides their brains. The Red Room instilled habits that were hard to break. There was little doubt that Madame B had once been a recruit herself. Even before one of Nat's old contacts had passed on their old supervisor's file and Nadine had dug up some of the redacted bits from the KGB's secure servers, they both had suspected as much. And they hadn't been wrong. Not by a long shot.