Natasha POV:
I'm sitting in a parked van in the heart of Hell's Kitchen, where there have been the most reports of vigilante sightings.
It's only been one day since she got the order to track the vigilantes, Ursa and Spider-Man. Something about one of them using red room techniques.
That should be impossible. She's the only person who knows those techniques. She didn't teach anybody her fighting style except for maybe Alex, who's just a normal human. Plus, she only taught him the basic shield training. Not any of the red room stuff.
Therefore, this vigilante must be some super soldier trained by the Red Room or something. He's a bear for god's sake. A bear. Russia. Sounds connected, doesn't it?
I'm kind of glad that these guys got on the director's radar, though. If not, I would've been somewhere in Europe pretending to be a prisoner or something. That whole operation got scrapped the second Ursa hit Fury's radar.
I shouldn't be making too much light out of the situation, though. I've heard from some of my sources that the Russian Mob has been trafficking children, but whenever I ask to look into it, I never get the green light from the higher-ups.
I grit my teeth. I don't want anybody to end up like I did.
Now, since the director himself gave me the mission to track Ursa, even though many of the higher-ups interjected, I'm able to investigate what's going on with the Russian mob.
Russians trafficking kids. A bear-themed hero that uses Red Room fighting styles. None of this can be any good.
I hear sudden static on the radio on my hip. It's specially made to be able to listen to any of the nearby signals.
"Bzzzt- Over 25 armed personnel have failed the status report. Requesting immediate backup. Potential, no, definitely an attack. Bzzzt." The radio caught the voice of someone with a deep Russian accent.
Bingo. Looks like this stakeout wouldn't take long after all.
I track where the radio signal came from, and it's at the docks. Of course. If they're going to run a human trafficking gig, the best way is through ships. Or trains. But who actually uses trains these days?
I get a sudden pang of sharp pain stabbing at her temple, and for a second, I'm no longer in Hell's kitchen.
I could suddenly hear the distant chugging of an engine, a dark container, trembling, rusted metal. I'm scared. I'm scared. I'm scared-
I slap myself across the face. Fuck. It's those flashbacks again.
Suddenly, in my rear-view mirror, I notice dozens of trucks with tinted windows coming up behind mine. It must be the backup. Otherwise, what would all of these trucks be driving to the docks for at midnight.
Just as I thought, after letting them pass me and trailing them for a few minutes, they all stopped at the docks. Each truck holds three to four heavily armed mobsters. Glocks. AK-47s. Drum SMGs.
Hiding behind a building a few blocks away, I curse under my breath. Even with all my skills, I can't fight close to 50 armed thugs and come out alive. Im only good at 1v1s or infiltrations goddamnit. I'm going to ask for a raise after this.
Just as I'm planning my way in to investigate further, a near-unnoticeable noise finds its way into my ears. One I would have missed if I weren't professionally trained for this. A thwip.
And through the darkness of the night, I'm able to see a dark figure pulling away one mobster after another from the back of their pack. That must be Spider-Man.
I'm impressed, but I don't see any training in his movements. It's almost graceful as if he's just going with the flow.
This guy, though strong, clearly isn't a professional. I need to head deeper into investigating his partner and the rumours of human trafficking.
It was perfect timing, too, as the mobsters realized that their numbers were silently and swiftly decreasing, and chaos struck. Using that moment, I used my parkour skills to leap across the rooftops and the cargo boxes to get past them.
Now I'm inside the docks. The first thing I notice is small traces. Stuff that normal people don't see. Unsettled dust in places. Slight sounds of breathing.
I walk over to the nearest metal barrel and touch it. Yup, the temperatures are too high to have been out here for so long. I peek inside. Unconscious body.
Not bad, but the vigilantes have to work on covering their tracks more.
As I walk through the empty docks, I can't help but spot a bunch more hidden bodies. Judging by the fact that they're all knocked out by blunt force, it should probably be Ursa's handywork.
I glance up at the crane above me and the webbed bodies. Yeah, that one's definitely going with the flow.
Ursa seems to be a lot calmer and collected, though. Probably the brains of the operation. I've got to be careful of him. On top of the Red Room techniques, he has superhuman speed, strength, and durability. At least that's all we've found.
I approach another cargo crate, with the dust settled everywhere except for suspiciously, the opening. Swing it open. Just as expected, another body.
This one wasn't a bunt impact, though. The knocked-out goon has two fingertip-sized red marks on his neck, right on his veins.
I click my tongue. A blood choke. It isn't particularly a secret technique; they even teach it somewhat in the SHIELD curriculum, but it is heavily trained in the Red Room.
Just then, I hear sounds of distant fighting.
If Ursa isn't taking the target out silently, it means that they should be a pretty powerful target. From what I've seen, he should be able to take down even gang leaders silently if given the chance.
I make my way towards the fight, taking the shortcut through the administration building. Again, it's obviously empty.
I was cutting through the multiple offices and making my way to the fire exit when an impact rocked the whole building.
Holy crap. How much power does this guy have?
Just then, a document, resting on the edge of a desk, tipped and fell to the floor, landing with a thud.
I lean over and pick it up. What is this...
My eyes widen.
On the corner of the document, there was a stamp of a logo. A logo of an eagle in a circle. The SHIELD logo.
I quickly pull out my phone and take a few pictures of it.
It seems like the fighting has quieted down outside. Let's check.
I peek my head out of the fire exit.
There was chaos outside.
There was smoke lying close to the ground, likely from a dissipating smoke grenade, knives of all sizes stuck in every surface imaginable, and blood stains everywhere.
However, what was most noticeable was a massive beast standing over a completely mangled and broken body of what looks like a cross between a ninja and a soldier.
The beast was continuously pounding strike after strike into the already knocked-out man. With each punch, I could hear a sickening crunch echo through the silent docks. Blood was pooling under him.
The beast, no, the man, was Ursa. Or what was Ursa.
He didn't give off any of the calm and calculated aura that I've imagined. This wasn't the man who infiltrated this highly guarded dock by taking out dozens of guards silently.
The leather of his costume was caked with blood, impaled into his skin in many points with protruding blades.
His bare chest had a glowing red tattoo, shimmering in the night. The tattoo matched his eyes. I couldn't see through his bear hood, but under it, I could see a faint shine of red.
A bit lower than his eyes, his fangs protruded from his mouth abnormally, giving him a savage appearance. The tips of the fangs were red. Just like his claws. Now that I look at it, there's a bit of gore stuck to his claws as well.
However, the most striking feature of him was the aura surrounding him. This was what immediately made me believe this wasn't Ursa.
The atmosphere around him was cold. Murdurous. Untamed.
This was not the aura of a professional. This was one of a savage.
Suddenly, as if sensing my presence, he turned from the unconscious, mangled body, with his sights directly focused on me. That red glow feels like it's piercing my very soul.
A low growl rumbles from his throat. Then he bolts, faster than anything that big should move. Straight at me.