A Deadly Deception

V. The City

V. THE CITY

***NATASHA’S POV***

          Who was that man I passed on the street, I wonder. He seemed so… familiar. Like I’d met him before or something… unless… No. That is not the explanation. But still…

          What if, something like this had happened before? What if S.H.I.E.L.D. has erased some of my memories before? But that wouldn’t make much sense. After all, I’m still working at S.H.I.E.L.D., rather, I will still work there if I don’t fail this mission.

                   I.

                                      Will.

                                                          Not.

                                                                             Fail.

          It’s just not going to happen because I just won’t let it. And that is that.

          I slide off the bus stop bench and rise to my feet, hoisting my bag back onto my shoulder and brush a bit of hair out of my eyes. Then it’s simply one foot in front of the other, I continue my journey.

          It has to start somewhere, right? A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, they say. Although this will most likely be a longer journey than the one they were referring to, the principle’s the same.

          Someone looks at me questioningly, as if wondering, “Is that that one woman who…?” Shoot. I had forgotten the team was on the news during the battle. I can’t let them recognize me. I’m already in over my head as it is. I slip into the nearest alleyway, pulling an “I LOVE NY” baseball cap out of my bag and I put it on, making sure to stick my hair up inside. It doesn’t exactly match the rest of my outfit, but hopefully it’s enough to convince passerby that I’m just another random tourist.

          I exit the alley once my hair is sufficiently hidden and continue down the sidewalk, this time being more careful not to touch or bump into anyone else. I stay close to the walls and avoid meeting anyone’s gaze. My bag beats a now-familiar pattern onto my back and the strap is beginning to dig into my shoulder blade. The black boots on my feet click against the pavement like the tick of a metronome.

          I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get through this, honestly. I like to think that I will, that I am invincible.

          But I’m not.

          I’m just the girl with the bad background trying to set things right again. Usually that sort of character is the first to go from what I’ve seen in movies. But I’m not exactly stereotypical, am I?

          I switch my bag to my other shoulder and massage the one it had been digging into, breathing out a slight sigh of relief.

          I turn the next corner and see a sign for the subways. I hurry over and take the stairs belowground into the subway tunnels.

          After a five-minute wait to the turnstiles, I swipe a generic S.H.I.E.L.D. hack card through the credit card machine. The hack cards will function nearly anywhere as a credit/debit card, and if you have the right kind, it will cancel out a metal detector. The light turns green and I step through the turnstile and walk quickly through the detector, hoping it won’t catch me and my sack of weapons.