Dancing For Demons

In and Out

"You have all failed me," Madame Orlov snarled at the people surrounding her. "Project Ghost failed because of you and now the winter soldier has failed too. I warned you of the price that must be paid."
Picking up the gun that she had loaded ready, Madame Orlov moved across the room shooting each person. Some tried to run, but were gunned down. Another tried to wrestle the gun off Madame Orlov and was shot in the leg twice, before a final shot was delivered to their head. None of them survived.
Standing in a room full of bodies, she felt claustrophic and decided to take a breath of fresh air. Soldiers, scientists and any other people she encountered steered clear of her blood-splattered figure.
Before she reached even reached the hangar, she was stopped by a very brave man.
"Madame Orlov, we have had an offer off the Red Room."
Madame Orlov smiled.
"What is the offer?" she asked.
Nervously, the man looked down at his feet, before mumbling. When she didn't responded he spoke louder.
"They will give us Anastasia."
The words barely left his mouth before a bullet shot out Madame Orlov's gun.

"This is an unacceptable report," one of the members of the council replied.
Madame Orlov frowned in annoyance. She hated council meetings with their incompetent members and politics. Even more, she hated their online meetings. Stood in a room together, Madame Orlov could read body language far better, but online it was much harder to detect.
"I can promise you that they will both be retrieved. We have accepted the deal off the Red Room and Anastasia will be soon back under our control. You have nothing to worry about." The last sentence was an outright lie, but they seemed to buy it.
"The rogue winter soldier is being held captive by the Avengers. Tell us how that is under control," the male council member says. On her screen, she sees him smirk at his attempt to make fun of her.
"The winter soldier training program was under your management. I had to step in to stop the whole thing blowing up in our faces. So when you attempt to berate me, you should at least do it on something that is not your fault."
"Watch your tone," another council member warned. Madame Orlov wished they could have been there in person for them to feel the anger radiating from her. They would be terrified.
However, all they saw on their screens was the pacing figure of a dangerous woman.
Finally one of them spoke. "I think I speak for the whole council when I say we do not want any more traitorous behaviour from our assets. Anastasia has deserted Hydra and can no longer be trusted once she is back on her shelf. I suggest she is wiped and subjected to the same methods as used on our winter soldiers. Shall we put it to the vote?"
Before Madame Orlov could protest, all the council members raised their hands and the vote was carried. The meeting ended and Madame Orlov was undescribingly angry. Her Anastasia, HER Anastasia, who she had poured some much time and resources into making, was to be turned into a mindless slave of Hydra. Lieutenant Colonel Vorobyez would be turning in his grave at the idea of his perfect daughter as a winter soldier.

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

Her dream was a pleasant one. She was back in the meadow with her parents and she could almost feel their arms around her. As the memory played out, Anastasia heard another name. They were calling her Anya. Suddenly doubts plagued her mind. What if that wasn't her parents and just her imagination? What if it had all been a trick?
With the sudden doubts that took hold of her, the dream changed.
A sudden fit of coughing overtook the woman as she coughed out blood, mucus and anything else in her body. Her porcelain skin delicately covered her bony body. Her face was grey and her eyes dull. Anastasia could tell that the woman was about to die.
Anastasia found herself counting breaths. In and out, the family clutched each other in anticipation. In and out, silent tears ran down the man's face. In and out, the clueless child gave a beaming smile to her mother. In and...
... through the deafening silence came the sound of wailing. The man broke down.
He grabbed a book and flung it against the wall.
"Noooo!" he screamed.
Another book shattered the mirror above the fireplace, whilst a hairbrush smacked into an armchair.
Once he had nothing to throw, the man paused to look at his work. The once ornate and loving room had been turned into a bomb site of broken hearts and crushed dreams.
Then he turned to the little girl. "Your fault," he muttered.

Anastasia woke in a state of horror. Her whole body felt as though it had just been plunged into a bath of ice then dragged through the desert. Sweat soaked her forehead and her hand were clammy. But Anastasia was well trained and quickly calmed down.
Knowing she didn't want to sleep, even if she could, Anastasia searched her room again. She had done it when she had got here, but there was something reassuring about combing through her room for microphones and cameras. As before, she found nothing.
A loud knocking at the door startled her.
"Come in," she commanded to whoever was outside.
Madam B walked in alone, but two soldiers stood outside.
"The meeting place has been decided, however I cannot tell you the location," she informed Anastasia.
Looking at the men behind her, Anastasia made an observation. "Those men are here to blindfold me and take me to the location, I presume." Madam B nodded. "Very well," Anastasia responded and allowed them to put a bag over her head. She was taken along a corridor and down a set of stairs, which she assumed were the main stair. Then she was taken into the biting cold outside, before being loaded into a vehicle. When she heard the sound of a rotors spinning, she worked out she was sat in a helicopter.
Finally, her plan was coming together and Anastasia did her last job. She pushed hard into her wrist where the transmitter was, sending a signal back to the Avengers. With luck, they would follow her instructions and tail the signal, until they reached the trade point.
The helicopter landed gently on the ground and Anastasia was pulled out. The bag was ripped off her head and she found herself stood under a blinding light, surrounded by shadowy figures. A slight breeze rippled through the grass and Anastasia looked at the inky-black sky. Behind her, dogs barked ferociously and soldiers positioned themselves whilst radios crackled. She knew that there were dozens of guns pointing at her head.
The landscape around her was flat and empty, with trees dotted around. She recognised it from another of her missions. She was in Africa.