Post by Natasha Romanoff on Mar 29, 2021 3:28:27 GMT -5
Participants: Natasha Romanoff /Open
Open/Closed: Open
Location(s): Siberian tundra
Time of Day: Mid-afternoon
Weather: Unbearably cold
Summary: Natasha continues her hunt to rid the world of the remnants of HYDRA and the Red Room.
Open/Closed: Open
Location(s): Siberian tundra
Time of Day: Mid-afternoon
Weather: Unbearably cold
Summary: Natasha continues her hunt to rid the world of the remnants of HYDRA and the Red Room.
Crouched in the shadow of a factory, she huddled into her thick, wet-work print jacket, raising her shoulders against the chill of the late evening wind. Her red hair was plastered to her face, crimson locks dyed an off brown; the ice rain having soaked her through long ago. Were it not for the heating pads contained in the inner pockets of the coat she wore over her sneaking suit, she was sure she’d be shivering – close to becoming a hypothermic wreck. But she’d been prepared. Russia was, after all, her homeland. She knew how to survive there better than anywhere.
Or so she told herself.
She'd landed the helicopter at the landing zone hours before, miles from the supposedly abandoned warehouse outside which she crouched. Insertion had been simple; drop in to the middle of nowhere before hiking further into nothingness, outlasting the wilderness until she reached her target. It was a silent approach, lacking the roar of engines a car or bike may have produced, certainly drawing less attention than the low hum of jet engines or the whirring of helicopter blades. Anyone within the factory would be unaware of her arrival – which was exactly what she’d hoped to accomplish.
The factory itself, an old Soviet building; plain, industrial and perfectly square, replete with connecting bunker, was an old HYDRA facility – supposedly abandoned. Records had suggested it had been evacuated at the height of the Cold War; though various sources had offered conflicting information. It had been off intelligence agency radars for years, lost to time. Then, a month prior, the intelligence satellites Romanoff carefully monitored picked up communications; encrypted, but originating from within the warehouse.
Investigations into the site's history had been undertaken almost immediately, by both parties, and after weeks spent gathering intel, it had been decided reconnaissance of the area was vital. Of course, while official agencies scrambled to organise a team, the Black Widow made her move alone, with far greater urgency and precision. With her former ties to Russia, the KGB and the Red Room, she was perhaps the perfect individual to infiltrate the facility – her expertise required nothing in the way of support, and her presence was far more likely to go unnoticed than a team of former SHIELD operatives.
But, from what she could tell upon her first reconnaissance, the factory was indeed empty. She’d been listening, watching and waiting for well over an hour, and nothing had stirred. No vehicles had arrived, no voices had been heard. The silence was utter – and more than a little eerie.
Pushing herself slowly to her feet, Natasha turned the collar of her coat up, shielding her neck from the driving sleet, before reaching down to her hip to remove the pistol she carried from its holster. Thumbing the safety, she checked the weapon was loaded correctly before heading toward a small side door- weathered and unhinged, an entrance she’d spotted during her initial recon sweep. Pressing her foot to it, she pushed firmly, opening it just enough for her to slip inside, not wishing to test the rusty metal more than she had to.
The darkness within was total, broken only by shafts of light peeking through gaps in the high ceiling above, making it easy for Natasha to stay hidden. Dust was thick upon everything, and even her slow, deliberate movements seemed to kick up thick clouds. Scanning the large, crate-laden space, she tilted her head as she did so, searching and listening for anything that might suggest she wasn't alone.
But only stillness and silence greeted her.
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