I N T E R N A T I O N A L
A I R L I N E S
🌙

june | 2016

She was very against the idea of being stuck with him for that long in a public aircraft.
But when Marc offered the window seat, that was fair. He was leaning back in his seat, his cap resting over the top half of his face. 

"So who's this fancy rich guy we are dealing with again?" Alex asked, sitting next to her once victim on a plane.

Marc glanced at his ally for a brief moment of judgement in his face. He then cleared his throat. "Classified."

"Oh come on Spector! I can't walk in this blindly." She said with folded arms with a frown. "You could be stabbing me in the back and turning me into your boss."

He scoffed, peering under the bill of the hat. "I hate my boss as much as you hated yours."

"Kachoo?" She said trying to remember the name he shouted out of the blue back in the alley the last time they encountered each other.

"Khonshu." Marc corrected her with snark, careful not to hint appreciation of her humor.

"That's what I said." Alex replied with a grin.

He shook his head. "Whatever you say." 

"And if you hate it so much, why can't you just quit?" Alex suggested with a shrug. "It's not like you are programed chemically like the Widows."

Marc grumbled as he took off the cap, wiping the exhaustion off his face with a sigh. Through the tiredness in his dreadful expression, she saw a desire. It reminded her of the painful begging for freedom in Ingrids pleading before Dreykov forced to her kill herself.

"It's not that simple." He said, his fingers combing through his hair before putting the hat back on. He stayed silent, his thumbs gently tracing his palms resting in his lap.

"What do you mean?" Alex asked without a hint of sarcasm for once. If he wasn't chemically subjugated, then he must have a easier way out right? Or so she thought. 

Marc glanced at the corner of his eye like he was a child being disciplined for breaking a rule. Unsure of what to say. He spotted a little boy a few rows up between the seats, sitting with a woman and a man. The taste of bitterness polluted his mouth at the sight with flashes of things he didn't want to uncover.

Thankfully, he found a diversion before Alex could pry. "Oh look!" He lit up before his arm extended as he pointed out the window. "There's the city."

Alex followed, seeing a beautiful line of civilization near the ocean. The skyline kissed by the sunrise, reflecting off of the buildings that she assumed were filled with corporate offices or other types of businesses.

"Woah!" She gasped as her eyes widened, staring through the clear glass to see small figures on busy streets and beaches. "It's been a while since I've been here."

"It's nice." Marc scrunched his nose.

She scoffed. "You have something against Spain?"

"Once you've seen something once, it gets old pretty quick." He said. 

She sensed a strange vibe from Marc. While she wanted to find out what it was, the mission was priority, not a therapy session with a nemesis. 

"If only you could have said that to Dreykov about the Red Room before he got blown up." She snickered, trying to lighten up the awkward tension. 

A smirk appeared on his face. "Too late for that now." He replied.

Alex tilted her head at his comment, letting out a deep breath. "His loss."

B A R C E L O N A

june | 2016

The two vigilantes walked through the streets of Barcelona until they reach an inn or motel of some sort. Marc doing most of the communication as the receptionist got a room situated.

Following him inside, Alex looked round. It wasn't the most glamorous place to stay. Only one queen bed and a old roll away from a couch. But it was better than sleeping on a mattress on the floor.

"Let's get to business." Marc said as he set his duffle bag on the coffee table.

She nodded, not wanting to waste time. The sooner this mission was done she could hopefully never see Marc ever again. "Who is this person you need to take down?" Alex asked, putting weight in one foot with arms crossed.

"Still classified," He sighed as he sat himself down on the sofa.

Alex frowned, tipping her head down with a hawk like scowl. "When are you going to trust me Spector?"

Marc peered up for a moment before clearing his throat as he rested his arms as he got comfortable. "Trust isn't really part of a mercenary occupation."

She grunted at his lack of cooperation. It made her miss Yelena and Natasha who at least put in an effort to a plan. But, the hard way was always an option.

"Well then," Alex clicked her tongue, speaking in a singing tune. "Looks like you don't need my assistance." She headed towards the door,
"Lance Harris."

Spinning on her heel, Alex looked over her shoulder.

"What was that?" She grinned. Getting under his skin was becoming a newly achieved skill that came with ease. She caught his eye under his dark lashes, staring her down as if plotting to kill her.

"Lance Harris is the guy we are after." Marc restated, licking his lips with a tight jaw. "Apparently there's a gang that is guilty for harassing and stealing from some charity for a foster kid program. He is the leader."

Raising her interest, Alex walked back as her grin faded. "Do you know where to find him?"

Marc nodded. "It's complicated, but he lives on the outskirts of the city. A mansion of sorts that's secluded."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Sounds right up my alley. I wonder if him and Dreykov were friends."

"They had connections." Marc confirmed.

Pulling up a chair and sitting on it backwards, Alex tilted her head. "You've never have told me about your boss. Or why you dress up for Halloween sometimes for missions."

He shook his head. "It's not that important."

"Oh come on Marc Spector!" Alex whined as she leaned forwards, her arms on the back of the chair. "You get to know about my occupation as an assasin, but I don't get to know about yours?"

Marc pretended to think for moment, mocking her complaint. "Yeah," He said. "You don't need to know anything."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Fine don't tell me. I'll just have to put it together myself." She brought her legs up to sit criss cross on the desk chair.

He frowned. "Don't do that."

"Hmmm. You aren't working with the Avengers, and you most certainly aren't working for Hydra since you helped me defeat Dreykov." She theorized with a finger taping her chin, just under her bottom lip. Her eyes focused in a pondering squint in analysis.

"Please. Just stop trying." Marc said again with a disturbed look.

"Is it S.W.O.R.D? S.H.I.E.L.D?" Alex ignored his protest, smirking in Marc's suffering as he brought a hand to his face, mumbling a few curses.

Alex then tilted her head, looking at the ugly brown duffle on the table. "Maybe I'll find answers in here."

Right as the tips of her fingers barely touched the zipper, a grip on her wrist kept her from going further. A jolt of flashbacks racing through her mind at the attack. Her chest tightening, her heart paused for a moment, seeing a glimpse of that man. His face haunting her like a ghost even if he was gone. 

"You've seen enough in there." Marc stared into her eyes, establishing he wasn't in for jokes. He musted have noticed what he did as he pulled back his hand in regret, facing down with a sigh. "You really want to know what my job is?"

Alex held back a sarcastic comment, knowing it would weaken his chance to trust her. She soothed the skin on her wrist with her free hand and replied calmly. "It's just not normal for ex-mercenaries to cut people with moon-shaped blades."

Marc glanced up at her with his tired eyes, watching her rub the arm he grabbed then peaking at the wound still covered with a bandage. "I won't tell you everything," He said returning his gaze at her, ignoring the injuries he caused, gesturing with his hand. "But what I'm about to tell you will sound strange at first."

"So is two super soldiers running around the world from World War 2." Alex remarked, waiting to hear his secret that she's been curious about since she saw him the night they met.

He let out a sigh while fighting with his hands. "Are you familiar with any form of God or gods?"

"Dreykov didn't really teach us girls much about religion, except the doctrine of being a killer." She said. Not wanting the Red Room be the forefront of her thoughts, she shook her head. "Natasha did tell me a little bit about the Christian one Captain America believes in. As well as Thor, Loki. And more recently the new King of Wakanda who has powers from a Cat goddess?"

Marc tipped his head in hearing the final person mentioned on her list. "The Black Panther? Yeah, their King works in behalf for the goddess to protect their country." He clarified for her, filling in the pieces. "I have a similar responsibility."

Alex raised her eyebrows. "You work for a god, to protect a country?"

He shook his head. "Except the Egypt gods do it differently. More on a smaller and quieter scale than Wakanda." Marc continued as Alex listened, keeping herself from burning out a comment.

"One of them is Khonshu." Marc said, dropping the name of his boss that Alex heard him say a few times before. "I'm his avatar, or servant to protect those who are vulnerable at night."

Processing all that information, Alex wanted to deny it all with a tease. But in the world she lived in, it didn't seem too far from impossible. She didn't really believe in any form of a higher being because if there was one, why did that powerful source let her suffer a Red Room but give luxury to another little girl?

"The only difference is Black Panther captures threats." Marc added. "I'm sent to kill them as punishment for harming innocent people."

She reclined, resting her arms on her knees. Her mind racing with questions and comments that she didn't know what to say, except the first thing that rolled off her tongue.

"Why didn't you kill me then?" Alex asked with knitted brows, gazing at him. Besides Natasha Romanoff, she earned one of the darkest ledgers in Red Room history. A honor she was no longer proud of but stuck with. "I'm sure your god would want me dead for the blood on my hands?"

He narrowed onto her like a hawk and she grew afraid. This heist could lead her to being stabbed in the back. Then Marc could check her off the hit list and move on.

The question took what he was going to say out of his mouth. A question that was difficult to pin point an singular answer. Marc opened his mouth, stuttering in forming a response.

"We should probably come up with a plan." Marc cleared his throat. "Our window of opportunity isn't much so we can't be distracted."

He pulled out an image of a man, with sharpie written out saying: Lance Harris.

She brushed aside the impulsive urge to force him to give her a reason. Instead, knew it was more important to play her role and get back to freeing other Widows as soon as possible. She stared at the photo of their target. Remembering the background Marc had mentioned. 

"So he's messing with an organization to help kids without homes?" Alex asked with a pinch of familiarity in her veins. "Robbing them?"

Marc folded his arms as he leaned back, stretching his legs under the table. "Almost as terrible as Dreykov." He stated. 

"No one can come close to Dreykov. But," Alex reached behind, wrapping her hand around a handle. "I say,"

It happened in a blink of an eye, Marc whipped out his gun the same time she lashed out her knife, pinning the photo onto the table. The nose of his weapon hovered over her forehead. Marc sneered at her a twitch tugged at the corner of her lips. 

"...We take this guy out." Alex stated as she inspected his intense eyes that relaxed when he realized her hostile action wasn't towards him. 

She knew he didn't trust her. But, he still hesitated to pull the trigger.

_______________________________________

Hey another chapter!

It's not really proofread so please don't judge! I'm not a professional which means this story isn't going to be perfect.

Still busy with school, but I'm doing all I can to update or at least finish ONE of my stories.

Thanks for reading!

- marie