The meeting point was a small warehouse on the outskirts of the city, far enough from populated areas to avoid unwanted attention.
Lucien arrived exactly on time, finding Natasha already there along with two figures.
He knew Bucky Barnes from their previous encounter, but the blonde woman standing beside them was new. She was shorter than Natasha, with cropped hair and the same kind of predatory stillness that marked all the world's elite killers.
Her posture suggested someone comfortable with violence but not eager for it.
"Lucien," Natasha said by way of greeting, "meet the rest of the team."
Bucky stepped forward first, extending his hand. "Good to see you again, kid. Ready for this?"
"As ready as I can be," Lucien replied, shaking the offered hand. Bucky's grip was firm but not challenging—the handshake of a professional acknowledging another professional.
The blonde woman moved forward next, her movements economical and precise. "I am Yelena," she said, her English carrying a noticeable Russian accent that made certain words sound sharper than they should. "White Widow."
Lucien paused for a moment, glancing between her and Natasha. "Two widows?"
Yelena caught his confusion and waved a dismissive hand. "Is confusing, yes? Just call me Yelena. It is easier for everyone."
Her tone was matter-of-fact, without any of the subtle layers of meaning that seemed to color most conversations with intelligence operatives. What you saw was what you got, apparently.
"Yelena," Lucien repeated, shaking her hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone her size, but she didn't try to prove anything with it.
"You are the one who broke out of the facility, yes?" Yelena asked, studying him with curious eyes. "Natasha says you are very strong."
"Strong enough," Lucien replied, not sure how to quantify his abilities for someone he'd just met.
"It's good. We will need strong people for this mission." Yelena nodded approvingly. "Too many guards, too many weapons. Normal people would die quickly."
The bluntness of her assessment was refreshing after so many conversations filled with euphemisms and careful word choices.
Natasha spread out a tablet on a nearby crate, displaying building schematics and satellite imagery. "Our main mission is to locate and extract the mutants in this facility. Intelligence suggests at least two children are being held, ranging in age from twelve to nineteen."
Bucky muttered, his expression darkening. "Jesus."
"This is why we do this," Yelena said simply. "Children should not be in cages."
Natasha pointed to different sections of the building. "Lucien, you'll be our primary hitter. You take on the first defenses, clear a path for the rest of us. Bucky and I will follow behind, handling any remaining resistance and securing the extraction routes."
"Sounds straightforward enough," Lucien said, studying the layout. The facility was larger than the one he'd escaped from, with more security checkpoints and what looked like multiple levels of containment.
Yelena asked again, tilting her head slightly. "That will require a lot of strength, are you strong enough?"
"Yeah," Lucien replied. "Been grinding for this."
The three SHIELD operatives looked at him with blank expressions.
"Grinding?" Bucky asked.
"Training," Lucien clarified, realizing his gaming terminology didn't translate well. "I've been training hard for this."
"Ah," Yelena nodded sagely. "It's good to prepare. Many people think they are ready when they are not ready. Then they die."
"Encouraging," Lucien said dryly.
"I am not here to encourage. I am here to complete the mission and go home alive." Yelena shrugged.
"If you are as strong as Natasha says, we will be fine. If not..." She made a gesture that clearly indicated things would not go well.
"She's a ray of sunshine," Bucky commented to Natasha.
"She's practical," Natasha replied. "It keeps people alive."
As they made their way to the Quinjet, the conversation shifted to lighter topics. Yelena seemed genuinely curious about American culture, asking questions that ranged from insightful to completely random.
"Why do Americans put cheese on everything?" she asked as they boarded the aircraft.
"Not everything," Bucky protested.
"I have seen cheese on pizza, cheese on hamburgers, cheese on vegetables, cheese inside more cheese. Is madness."
"That's just Wisconsin," Natasha said with what might have been a smile.
"Is Wisconsin a different country?"
"Sometimes feels like it," Lucien said, earning a confused look from Yelena and chuckles from the others.
The Quinjet lifted off smoothly, carrying them toward their target. The mood gradually shifted from casual conversation to focused preparation as they approached the objective.
"Landing zone is three kilometers from the facility," the pilot announced. "ETA four minutes."
Yelena moved to the equipment storage and pulled out a black tactical mask, tossing it to Lucien. "Does not help much, but at least helps a little bit in keeping identity secret."
"Thanks," Lucien said, examining the simple face covering. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
"You will stay with Quinjet?" Natasha asked Yelena.
"Da. Someone must be ready for quick escape when things go wrong." Yelena settled into the pilot's seat with practiced ease. "Things always go wrong."
"Doesn't hurt to be a bit optimistic," Bucky muttered.
"I am a realist. You are an optimist if you think the mission will go exactly as planned."
The Quinjet touched down in a clearing surrounded by dense forest. Through the windows, Lucien could see the facility in the distance—a low, sprawling complex that looked almost identical to the one he'd been imprisoned in. The sight sent an unwelcome chill through him.
"Brings back memories?" Natasha asked, noting his expression.
"Not good ones," Lucien replied, pulling on the mask.
They disembarked quickly, with Yelena calling out final instructions from the cockpit. "Stay on the radio. If I hear shooting for too long without updates, I will come looking for bodies."
"Love you too, Yelena," Natasha called back.
The three of them moved through the forest with practiced stealth, their movements coordinated well.
"Can't go through the front doors," Natasha said quietly as they reached the facility's perimeter. "Too much open ground, too many sight lines."
Yelena's voice crackled through their earpieces. "Move to the left side of the building. I am looking at the plans we got. There is a wall on the backside that leads directly to a hallway connected to the main area."
They circled around to the rear of the building, where a concrete wall rose about twelve feet high. Beyond it, they could see the upper floors of the facility proper.
Bucky and Natasha looked at Lucien expectantly.
"Right," he said, understanding what they wanted. He approached the wall, placed his hands against the concrete, and pushed.
The wall didn't just crack—it exploded inward with a sound like thunder, concrete chunks flying in all directions as a hole large enough for a truck opened up in what had been a solid barrier moments before.
"Ooh," Yelena's voice came through the earpiece, sounding impressed. "You are strong."
Lucien stepped through the gap he'd created, immediately spotting two guards who had been stationed in the hallway beyond. They were turning toward the sudden noise, hands reaching for weapons, when his daggers materialized in his hands.
The guards dropped before they could raise an alarm, their bodies hitting the floor with soft thuds that were barely audible over the settling concrete dust.
"Clear," Lucien called softly, and Bucky and Natasha moved through the breach.
What followed was systematic and eerily quiet. The three of them moved through the facility's corridors like shadows, neutralizing threats with professional efficiency.
Bucky and Natasha worked as a team, their movements coordinated from years of partnership, while Lucien operated more independently, his speed and strength allowing him to clear multiple targets before his companions had finished with one.
It quickly became apparent that Lucien was operating on a different level entirely.
Where Bucky and Natasha moved with careful precision, eliminating guards one or two at a time, Lucien was cutting through them like a force of nature. His count was already approaching triple theirs, and they were barely three minutes into the operation.
The corridor they found themselves in stretched ahead into darkness, lined with doors that looked disturbingly familiar.
Behind those doors, if the intelligence was correct, were kids who had been going through the same hell he and Anna had endured.
With the immediate guards neutralized, Lucien began moving toward the holding areas, his enhanced senses already picking up the faint sounds of movement and whispered conversations that indicated they'd found what they were looking for.
.....
POWER STONE GOAL: 700 ( 1 Extra Chapter)
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