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That night, Natasha ghosted her way into the target warehouse.
The coordinates led to the industrial outskirts of New York, a short drive from Stark Tower. Natasha had been embedded as Kael's secretary for a while now—too long, by her standards. She'd initially expected a quick smash-and-grab on his data, but the mission had stalled. Despite his public persona as a playboy on par with Tony Stark, Kael was a vault. Every perceived weakness she tried to exploit turned out to be a dead end.
In her long career as a high-level operative, this was her first true technical stalemate. In a world ruled by capital, Kael's status as a billionaire director shielded him from most aggressive S.H.I.E.L.D. tactics. The organization was currently in a delicate "defensive" phase, operating in the shadows of national governments. Without a global catastrophe to justify their overreach, they were just another illegal multinational group.
As the warehouse acceptance clerk shelved the final Smart Toilet and clocked out, Natasha descended from the rafters.
She had traded her charcoal suit for a skin-tight tactical catsuit. In the darkness, she looked like a lethal red rose. Activating a low-profile chest light, she began her sweep. The math didn't add up; according to the shipping manifests, this warehouse's capacity should have been hit weeks ago.
Using her S.H.I.E.L.D. HUD to cross-reference the building's blueprints, Natasha's intuition flared. She found the seam in the floor—a hidden underground lift. She cracked the lock and slipped into the subterranean level.
Expecting the Iron Monger chassis, she was surprised to see rows of neatly arranged drones instead. It looked like a standard logistics hub.
Just as she reached for her scanner, a familiar, amplified voice echoed through the chamber.
"You've fallen into a trap, Natalie."
She'd been burned.
Natasha's pistol was out in a heartbeat, aimed at the catwalk above. The next second, high-intensity stadium lights flared, turning the basement into a white-out.
In the moment she was dazzled, a shadow blurred across the floor. An elbow slammed into her sternum, followed by a hand snatching her weapon and leveling it at her forehead.
"Emil?" Natasha gasped, recovering her breath as her vision cleared.
Blonsky stood over her, clad in a tactical combat rig. His physique was deceptively compact, but he radiated an aura of absolute confidence—the kind of lethality only born from Cyberware.
"Can you tell me where I went wrong?" Natasha asked, looking past Blonsky.
Kael was leaning against the far wall, casually holding a microphone. He looked every bit the Calculating Survivor.
"You weren't proactive enough," Kael said, placing the mic on a nearby crate.
"What?"
"I'm a self-made billionaire with genius-level intellect and the face of a god," Kael said with a smirk. "The fact that my secretary wasn't trying to sleep her way into my bed or my bank account was a massive red flag. Professionalism is one thing, but your 'ice queen' act was a script that didn't fit the role."
"I see. I was negligent," Natasha muttered. To Kael's surprise, she actually seemed to believe him. Given the "Power of Five" charisma Kael now projected, her logic dictated that a normal woman would have folded weeks ago.
"So, who are you really with? You aren't ordinary corporate muscle."
"Want to know?" Natasha raised an eyebrow, her tone shifting to a sultry purr.
In a flash, she dropped a flashbang and lunged toward Kael. In this environment, capturing the "Asset" was her only extraction path. She knew Blonsky was an elite, but she hadn't yet seen his full potential.
She was about to find out.
Blonsky's eyes had been replaced with Kiroshi Optics—immune to flash stimuli. As Natasha blurred past him, he executed a spinning roundhouse kick that caught her mid-air.
The impact was like being hit by a freight train. Natasha slammed into the concrete wall, her breath leaving her lungs in a pained wheeze. She was genetically optimized for agility and health, but Blonsky was upgraded.
"I am your opponent," Blonsky growled, his gaze cold. He didn't care about her beauty; he only cared about his Boss.
"Just surrender," Kael suggested from the sidelines. "Let your handler ransom you back. S.H.I.E.L.D. has plenty of 'toys' I'd like to trade for."
Natasha's jaw tightened. Being ransomed by Fury would be the ultimate humiliation. She looked up, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "You think I'm acting alone?"
Before Kael could react, a sharp, high-velocity arrow whistled toward Blonsky's back.
Blonsky didn't even look. His Kereznikov spinal implant flared, slowing time to a crawl. He pivoted and caught the arrow mid-air.
BZZT.
A massive electrical discharge erupted from the arrowhead. Blonsky's cybernetics seized, and he dropped to one knee, snarling through the paralysis.
Kael looked up at the rafters, smacking his lips. "Hawkeye? Really? What did I do to deserve the Level 7 treatment?"
Clint Barton's arrival hadn't been part of the plan, but Natasha's intuition had saved her.
"Armed assault? That's an aggravated felony," Kael noted calmly. He clapped his hands twice.
Deep in the shadows of the drones, hundreds of red visual sensors pulsed to life. The buzzing of a thousand wings filled the air as the swarm took flight. These basketball-sized smart drones were equipped with Tranquilizer Launchers loaded with Night City-grade anesthetics—enough to drop a cyber-psycho in seconds.
"What are those? What are you doing, Kael?" Natasha asked, a cold chill running down her spine.
"Doing? I'm delivering packages," Kael replied, looking at her like she was an idiot. "The company just opened a logistics subsidiary. I hold fifty-one percent. These are for high-security home delivery."
"Package delivery?" Natasha was stunned.
"Exactly. People steal packages off porches in this country. So, my drones are armed to protect company property. Every package reaches the recipient's hand... or their head."
Blonsky was already back on his feet, his systems flushed of the arrow's charge. He turned his attention back to Natasha, looking very, very angry.
Above them, Hawkeye managed to last three seconds against the swarm. He was a peak human, but the drones operated on a Swarm-Intelligence algorithm that adapted faster than he could aim. He tumbled from the roof, his back looking like a pincushion of dart-feathers.
Natasha watched her friend fall, her own options evaporating. Faced with an enraged, chromed-out Blonsky, she had no room to maneuver. He cornered her in seconds.
"I wasn't the one who shocked you," she reminded him.
"I know," Blonsky nodded. His Kereznikov flared again. Before she could blink, he had her pinned to the cold floor, her arms locked behind her.
Kael walked over, pulling out his Hammer-phone and squatting down next to her.
"So, Natalie... which number do I call to have 'Egghead' bail you out?"
Natasha stared at Hawkeye's snoring form and sighed. For the first time in her life, she envied a man who was unconscious.
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