Marvel Imagines, Preferences, One Shots etc. III

Natasha Romanoff- Unreliable Witness (a)

"Reporting for debriefing." Natasha announced her arrival as she strode into your office, she had just returned from a classified bag and tag mission deep in the heart of South America and her face bared the bruises and cuts to prove it. The operation description focused on going in, capturing somebody that had intel on some warlord and then getting out again without anybody noticing.

"Good afternoon Miss. Romanoff." Her knee swept over her other leg as she sat down, you had not been at the agency for particularly long and Natasha was not a fan of your introduction of formal one on one debriefing sessions. The paperwork that cluttered your desk stacked neatly into a pile as she handed over her recollection of what had happened over the past few weeks.

"Were we successful?" You threw the report onto the stack of papers that you still had to sort through and opted for more of a personal approach instead, but knowing what you did of Natasha you didn't have the highest of hopes for that making a difference.

"Sure." She shrugged, eyeing the clock that ticked back and forth on the wall above your head.

"Okay then, give me the rundown of what happened?" Her eyes locked with yours as she leant forward, she went through every step of the operation in great detail, up until her and her squad were outside of their target location.

"So, we get to the outpost and so far, everything's going great. The team sets up a perimeter around the compound and I decide that if were going silent I should probably go by myself." She cleared her throat. "Only this is where it goes slightly downhill. Turns out, this informant you've been in contact with wouldn't have made such a reliable witness after all." She produces a handful of photographs from her back pocket and spread them across the desk, each one graphically portraying a brutally killed man sprawled over a dirt floor. "I get into his little tent and not only is the big bad general stood over him with a handgun the size of my forearm pressed against his head, what seems like half of South America is waiting in there for me."

You asked her what happened next, she pointed to the photos and told you to figure it out for yourself.

"You made it out with the team, he wasn't so lucky." She nodded and rose from her seat, heading towards the door almost instantly.

~*~

Written by Aaron.