mauvaisefemme
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- Votes 30
- Parts 4
Rule number one: never let them know who you really are. Nora Valmont had learned that early, somewhere between a cigarette lit in a stolen car and the third fake passport. To get into the Avengers program, she'd claimed to be a state-trained spy fluent in six languages and capable of hacking the Pentagon with one hand while sipping espresso with the other.
That was lie number one.
Lie number two had been less flashy but far more absurd: she'd told them she once dismantled a bomb using only a pair of tweezers and an off-brand lip gloss.
Lie number three was her name. She wasn't really Nora Valmont, and she sure as hell wasn't born in Marseille like the file claimed. But "Black Silk" had a nice ring to it, and if she had to play femme fatale to survive, then she'd do it with heels sharp enough to pierce armor.
So when they finally offered her a mission, her first real one, she pictured herself in slow motion, hair blowing dramatically in the wind, standing proudly beneath the golden Avengers "A", ready for her close-up.
Instead, she was handed a stained duffel bag and pointed toward a cargo plane full of broken egos, second chances, and questionable hygiene.
The Thunderbolts.
Not quite the dream.
But then again, rule number two: never show disappointment. Especially not in front of idiots with too many weapons and unresolved trauma.