Ren reluctantly withdrew his attention from Natasha's chest.
…Not bad.
Very not bad.
Before he could enjoy the moment any longer, a news broadcast from a television on the street caught their attention.
"Breaking news: According to Colonel James Rhodes of the U.S. Military, Mr. Tony Stark was attacked by terrorists while departing Afghanistan. He is currently missing."
Natasha stopped walking.
"Well… that's not good."
She rubbed her forehead.
Tony Stark wasn't just any billionaire.
He was the son of Howard Stark, one of the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D..
His importance—politically, technologically, strategically—was enormous.
Her vacation was officially over.
If Tony had been attacked, S.H.I.E.L.D. would absolutely intervene.
Whether he was alive or dead, they would search, investigate, and most likely exchange gunfire with terrorists in the process.
Natasha already knew where this was heading.
The Middle East.
Right on cue, her phone rang.
"Natasha. I'm sorry to interrupt your vacation again," Nick Fury said.
"You've seen the news. Tony Stark was attacked while traveling in the Middle East. Out of respect for Howard, we are obligated to retrieve him."
Natasha sighed.
First Johnson.
Now this.
Her vacation had been completely shredded.
"Understood. Send me the rendezvous point."
"Taxi to the airport. We'll deploy you immediately. This is urgent."
The line went dead.
Natasha exhaled slowly.
"The Middle East… fantastic."
Finding someone in that region was like searching for a needle in a sandstorm.
"With me, this will go faster than you think," Ren said calmly.
"You're good at tracking now too?" she asked skeptically.
"Symbiotes can't survive long without a host. We evolved to locate life efficiently."
A half-truth.
He already knew exactly where Tony was being held.
Plot knowledge was extremely useful.
Natasha gave him a sideways look.
"You really do have quite a few tricks."
She hailed a taxi immediately.
S.H.I.E.L.D. would reimburse it.
No agent should pay out of pocket during deployment—unless they wanted defections to Hydra.
At the airport, someone was waiting.
Phil Coulson.
Nick Fury's most reliable subordinate.
"Apologies for interrupting your leave, Agent Romanoff," Coulson said seriously. "Tony Stark's situation is critical. You'll need to locate him."
"Tell Director Fury I'm billing overtime," Natasha replied dryly.
Coulson smiled faintly. "I'm sure he won't be stingy."
They boarded a sleek S.H.I.E.L.D. aircraft. Inside, over twenty agents were already seated.
Fury was taking this extremely seriously.
Among them was a familiar face.
Hawkeye.
"Barton? You too?" Natasha raised a brow. "Guess Fury really cares about the playboy."
"Tony's important," Barton replied. "Strategically and politically. We just locate him. The military handles the extraction."
That matched the official plan.
But Natasha had other ideas.
"I'll be acting alone once we're on the ground."
Barton frowned. "That's dangerous."
"I have my own plan."
She wanted to test her limits.
Bulletproof armor. Enhanced strength. Accelerated reaction.
Terrorists made excellent stress tests.
Barton didn't push further.
Agents knew when to ask questions—and when not to.
The flight lasted seven hours.
Even with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s technology, crossing continents took time.
Adjusting to time zones was trivial. Their training covered far worse.
Ren remained silent throughout.
Too many eyes in the cabin.
Revealing himself here would be a disaster.
Finally, the aircraft descended.
Below them stretched a U.S. military base in the Middle East.
The hatch opened.
Heat hit them immediately.
Natasha stepped off the plane.
Operation: Locate Tony Stark.
Ren stirred faintly inside her.
Things were about to become interesting.