Black Widow: Red Vengeance (A Marvel YA Novel)

by Margaret Stohl

  “How does that head of yours feel?”

  “I think I fried something,” Ava said, moving her head gingerly back and forth. “Maybe grilled it.”

  “Who were you talking to, over there?” Natasha studied her face.

  “Don’t tell her. She won’t understand,” Alexei said into her ear, sitting behind her on the cot.

  “Where? I must have been dreaming,” Ava lied, putting down the cup on a medical station crowded with gauze and scissors and a small plastic bowl shaped like a bean. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried.”

  “I’m okay,” Natasha said, holding out one gauze-bound elbow. “Just black-and-blue as usual. Everyone made it out, thank God. Even Mrs. Smalley.”

  “Ouch,” Ava said, imagining it.

  Natasha winced. “Yeah, I kind of threw us down the stairs. She’s very lightweight—and I think she still has at least one good hip left.”

  “Great.” Ava swung her feet down off the side of the bed. “The last thing I can remember is Maria Hill going on about an attack on the tenth floor. And then I felt you go down—”

  Natasha looked serious. “They took out a junior agent, an innocent wonk. I don’t know how they got to him. They had some kind of total control, and they timed the hit to go down right as they hacked the base.”

  “Just like Rio,” Alexei said. “I’m worried.”

  Ava nodded. “It’s the same pattern. The two-part attack—just like when they came after you with the hack and the exploding bike in Rio.”

  “Agreed,” Natasha said. “Whether this Red Angel or Red Room or Red Dress—”

  “Green,” Ava corrected.

  “Yeah, whatever. It’s clearly one person calling the shots, and it’s not Yuri Somodorov,” Natasha said, shooting Ava a meaningful look. “At least, not anymore.”

  “She’s worried about you. She doesn’t want you to get hurt. Can you blame her?” Alexei whispered.

  Ava sat up and swung her feet off the edge of the bed. “We don’t have to talk about that.” The last thing she wanted to do was hash out what had happened back at the Amazonas camp; she hardly knew herself, or where that particular tsunami of rage had come from, or how she was supposed to control it.

  “But you do know. You know exactly where it came from. And you also know it’s getting harder and harder to control yourself,” Alexei said. “You’re going to have to tell her sometime, Mysh.”

  Ava fixed her eyes on Natasha. She was not going to start into this with either Romanoff, real or ghost.

  “Yes, we do have to talk about it.” Natasha said. “And we will.”

  Ava tried to stand up. “Gotta go.”

  “Not so fast,” Natasha said. “We should probably check you out and make sure everything’s okay. Revisit the quantum entanglement situation. See what’s going on in your head, and why you got so fried.”

  “If you let Tony into your head, he’ll see how strong it’s getting,” Alexei said. “Your power. Are you ready for that?”

  “No,” Ava said—to both of them—only more loudly than she had realized. Natasha shot her a strange look.

  “I don’t want any more of Tony and his electrodes,” Ava said. “I’m not a Quantum lab rat, and neither are you.”

  “I can’t stop him from coming,” Natasha said. “He’s on his way back from Switzerland now. And he’s been working with quantum physicists all week. Prepare yourself.”

  “Oh, please,” Ava said, grabbing one of her shoes. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s get out of here. Did Coulson tell you? I interrupted a Faith dealer—”

  “By which you mean you jumped a drug dealer in the middle of a drug deal? While you were out with your civilian friends? Blowing your cover and bringing them to a highly classified S.H.I.E.L.D. Triskelion base? Yes, I heard.” Natasha’s voice was scathing.

  “It wasn’t just any drug deal. It was Faith,” Ava said defensively.

  “I know, and Maria Hill has the lab looking at the sample now. But getting yourself into a potentially dangerous situation when you were alone in the city was the wrong call. You could have been killed.”

  “She’s right, you know.” Alexei sighed. “You really do need to be more careful. If something happens to you—”

  Ava rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how he did it, but I swear to you I was watching as that dealer made his buyer throw himself in front of a train. Was I supposed to just sit there and watch him get squashed like a bug?”

  “Yes,” Natasha said. “That. Exactly.” She folded her arms, looking like one of the Academy instructors proctoring an exam.

  “You talk a big game, sestra, but you know you would have done exactly the same thing.”

  “She would, but she won’t admit that to you,” Alexei said.

  “What I did do,” Natasha said, taking a breath, “was speak to Coulson about you going back to school. You’re starting on Monday.”

  Ava felt her face immediately flush with humiliation. “That’s not fair. I can’t go back to the Academy like nothing happened, not now. Just give me a chance. Let me show you what I can do,” she said.

  Natasha shook her head. “Not in the field. You belong at the Academy.”

  “Why?”

  “Put it this way: You know that whole Spider-Man thing you see on all the T-shirts? With great power comes great responsibility? Those aren’t just words. They’re the truth.”

  “So you’re saying that by using my power I’m being irresponsible?” Ava asked, her voice rising. She could almost feel the blue electricity snapping in her brain as she spoke, begging to come out—

  “Careful, Ava. Don’t lose control. Not now,” Alexei warned.

  “No,” Natasha said. “You’re being stupid.” She shrugged. “And also irresponsible.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. And by the way, you’re welcome.”

  “For?”

  “I just saved you, didn’t I? Sent S.H.I.E.L.D. to your rescue? Isn’t that what I’m doing in this stupid bed in the first place? Or are you mad I didn’t show up for you myself?”

  “What? I tried to tell you to stay here! I could have handled it.”

  “You need me. I know you need me. Why won’t you admit it?”

  “Because she’s a Romanoff,” Alexei said. “And because she’s scared.”

  Natasha stood up “You know what your problem is? You don’t even know how much you don’t know—and that’s the scary part. That’s what I have a problem with.”

  Ava’s eyes flashed. “Here’s a thought. You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”

  “That’s not how this works. I’m responsible for you. Ask Coulson.”

  “Why, because you checked me out of the Academy like some kind of library book?” Ava said, now furious.

  “Pretty much,” Natasha answered.

  “Well, news flash,” Ava scoffed. “The only person who has ever been there for me is me. Everyone else leaves or gets taken away—”

  “I told you. I’m not going anywhere,” Alexei said, looking stricken.

  Ava stood up and pulled open the door. “So excuse me if I don’t think I need you to worry about me.”

  “Ava,” Natasha began.

  But Ava almost walked into Maria Hill, who was now standing at the infirmary door. Her face was grim.

  “We have a situation.”

  S.H.I.E.L.D. EYES ONLY

  CLEARANCE LEVEL X

  SPECIAL CIRCUMSTANCES & INDIVIDUALS (SCI) INVESTIGATION

  AGENT IN COMMAND (AIC): PHILLIP COULSON

  RE: AGENT NATASHA ROMANOFF A.K.A. BLACK WIDOW

  A.K.A. NATASHA ROMANOVA

  AAA HEARING TRANSCRIPT

  CC: DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE, SCI INQUIRY

  COULSON: So you had three samples of the Faith compound at that point?

  ROMANOFF: Yes. The one from Amazonas, the one from Brooklyn, and…Barry’s.

  COULSON: Did you compare them?

  ROMANOFF: We did. Maria Hill had alread
y run the samples through S.H.I.E.L.D.’s lab by the time I got back to the Triskelion.

  COULSON: After your apartment went to that big Triskelion in the sky.

  ROMANOFF: They were identical matches. Same environmental markers, same rate of atmospheric decay. They seemed to come from one larger identical source.

  COULSON: Strange for any drug. Even the kinds you can’t buy in a subway station.

  ROMANOFF: Right? One of the samples had to be on the street in New York long enough to exchange hands between smugglers and mules and dealers and distributors. The other sample we’d lifted only the previous day. Who knows how long Barry had his. Or how they got to him.

  COULSON: But that wasn’t the only thing that was off about the compound, right?

  ROMANOFF: No. There was also the drug dealer somehow being able to control the behavior of the poor junkie trying to buy it off him.

  COULSON: The guy who threw himself in front of the train? Any speculation?

  ROMANOFF: Honestly? I was more focused on who was trying to kill me—and who had torched my last clean pair of jeans. And on Barry.

  COULSON: So what happened to the samples?

  ROMANOFF: Maria forwarded slides to Carol Danvers, Tony, and myself. The theory was we’d come across the compound in our…line of work…sooner or later.

  COULSON: How’d that turn out for you?

  ROMANOFF: I’d have to go with sooner.

  S.H.I.E.L.D. NEW YORK TRISKELION,

  EAST RIVER

  THE GREAT CITY OF NEW YORK

  When Ava followed Natasha and Maria Hill into the Brain Trust, the first thing she heard was Dante’s voice.

  “Let me see if I’m getting this: you’re pretty much a mash-up of the CIA and the FBI and some Navy SEALs—and that’s even before all the super hero stuff comes in?” Dante marveled as he looked around the endless data walls of the room surrounding them. Sana sat on the other side of him, wide-eyed and staring as she took it all in.

  “Yeah, you know, I always like to add in James Bond, but that could just be because of the cars and gadgets,” Agent Coulson said, from across the table.

  “I know, right? I love M,” Dante said.

  But the moment they approached the table, Dante fell silent. His eyes were on Natasha as he pushed back his chair and stood.

  She came around the table to face him. When she’d returned to the Triskelion and learned that her brother’s best friend was on base, she’d understood there would be no avoiding this moment, and she wasn’t trying to.

  “You’re—you’re—” he stammered. Natasha knew all too well what he was going through; shock was the usual reaction people had when they recognized her, not that she’d ever get used to it.

  The Avengers had saved humanity enough times to become celebrities. While each had responded differently, it was only Tony Stark (and to a certain extent, Thor) who naturally thrived in the spotlight. Cap saw it as a responsibility, and Bruce a liability. For Natasha, who had been trained for the secrecy of black ops and stealth fighters, it was mostly just confusing.

  How many school essays and applications and reports had been written about the time someone got to meet Natasha Romanoff? How many thousands of kids had dressed as the Black Widow each Halloween? How many times had Santa Claus wrapped up a version of her face—or her body or her motorcycle or even her red hair—and stuck her under the tree? Was the Black Widow a person? Was she a brand? Was she a secret weapon? The last hope of humanity? A lunch box?

  She suspected the boy in front of her was going through all of those questions now. Your guess is as good as mine, kid.

  “You,” Dante said, at last. “You’re Alexei’s sister.”

  She nodded. “I am.”

  “And you’re the Black Widow,” he said, cocking his head slightly to one side, as if altering his physical point of view would actually alter his perspective.

  “That’s what they tell me,” she said.

  He hesitated—and then smiled. “Finally,” Dante said. “Something that actually makes sense.” He held out his arms and stepped toward her, and at that moment she liked the kid so much she almost hugged him back—

  “I hate to break up a moment, but things are flying,” Maria said, taking her seat at the table. Ava sat down next to her.

  “Seriously, though?” Dante looked at Ava. “Military school?”

  “Technically, it’s true. I do go to school, sometimes,” Ava said.

  “When you’re not in the Amazon?” Sana wagged her head toward Coulson. “Which is where that guy just said you were.”

  “What’s going on?” Natasha asked, pulling out a chair.

  Coulson tapped a tablet on the table. “Maria was being literal. Things are actually flying. The missiles. They’re in the air, possibly all five of them.”

  All around them, the wall screens now showed the sophisticated detail of classified radar intelligence.

  Ava looked stricken. “Five? They’ve acquired five targets at the same time?”

  “Actually, it’s worse than that,” Maria said. “We’ve confirmed that five missiles have now departed the Amazonas depot, but only one is still being picked up by our radar.”

  Coulson tapped again—and now only the radar tracking the one identified warhead remained.

  A vague continental outline was visible on the map in the background, as if the idea of the missile detonating was still only an abstraction.

  “No.” Natasha frowned. “Four nukes in the wind? Just vanished? That’s not possible. I attached a tracker to every missile.”

  “It’s not a problem with the trackers,” Maria said. “They were working. Our system was still picking up the signal on those nukes hours ago.”

  “Wait, nukes? You’re being serious? As in, nuclear missiles?” Dante looked at Ava in disbelief. “What kind of nuke?”

  “What do you mean, what kind? The stolen kind,” Ava said. “The kind bought by dealing that Faith drug we saw in the subway.”

  “You’re not making this up? Nuke nukes? You mean, like in a movie with George Clooney?” Oksana looked as shocked as Dante now. “Or Stalin?”

  “Nobody’s making anything up, as much as we all wish we were,” Natasha said. “But I still don’t understand. You’re telling me we had all four on radar, and then we didn’t. What happened?”

  “It seems that the past few hours, our friends in the Amazonas have somehow managed to shield them from us—whether or not they even realize they’re doing it,” Coulson said.

  “How do you accidentally hide a nuke?” Ava asked.

  “It could be as simple as whether or not the craft transporting them has a steel-reinforced cargo hold,” Maria said.

  Natasha was out of her chair and pacing the room now. “When did they start to move?”

  Maria’s eyes were still glued to the radar. “That’s the thing. Sometime during the chaos.”

  Coulson nodded. “We think that’s what the Faith hack and the blast at Natasha’s apartment were really about.”

  “They were trying to distract us,” Ava said. “And they did.” She looked at Natasha sadly. “We were the dangle.”

  Natasha shrugged. “Yeah, well. We screwed up. You’ve got to keep your eye on the ball. That’s part of the game.”

  And I know that. This is my fault. If I hadn’t gone home, if I had made Ava come with me in the first place, we might still be tracking four nukes instead of one—

  “It’s definitely moving by air. We can tell that from the speed, as well as the trajectory,” Maria said.

  “It has to be,” Ava said. “There are no roads that lead to that depot. The whole park was only accessible by air or waterway.”

  “How is this your life? You’re talking about a bomb that is flying through the air and pointed at people,” Dante said to her.

  Ava shrugged. “Yeah. You don’t really get used to it.”

  Dante looked incredulous. “I hope not.”

  Sana put a hand on his shoulder.
“Hold it together, man.”

  He shook his head. “Look at that radar screen. That beeping white dot is a bomb. If there was a right time to lose it, this is probably it.”

  Not an option. Natasha looked to Maria. “Can we get a make on the bird?”

  “NASA and the DOD are working on it,” Maria answered.

  Behind her, the workstations were now filling with military personnel, staff trained for precisely these scenarios. None of them looked much more comfortable with the moment than Dante had, though. Yeah, if things get hot, these aren’t the guys I want deciding when to push the big red button—

  “Should we be looping Carol in?” Coulson asked. “How far out is Tony?” Things were getting serious, and Natasha only hoped the teens were still too oblivious to pick up on how serious.

  “Carol was the one who alerted us to the missile movement,” Maria said. “She’s locked into Natasha’s tracking signal and is following along with our friends at NASA.” She looked over her shoulder. “Can someone patch Carol in?”

  “Who’s doing the math on this?” Natasha asked, looking at the crowd of analysts now swarming the room. “You guys?”

  “I’ve got it.” It was Carol’s voice now as her face popped up in a box on one of the Brain Trust’s screens. “And it’s done. We’ve got what looks like a pretty clear trajectory, with a margin of error we’re just going to have to live with—”

  “Don’t tell me what we can live with. Just tell me where the thing is going to hit.” Natasha stared at the radar screen as she spoke.

  “Sicily. Palermo, Sicily. That’s the target.” The words cut through the room—and it immediately fell silent.

  There you go, Sicily. You just won the unluckiest lottery on the planet.

  “You sure about that?” Natasha asked, scanning the room for anyone who could give her a clue as to what was going on.

  They’ve got people on the inside, right? They have to. They knew who to hit on the tenth. They could be working with any one of these guys.

  “Palermo, Sicily. I’m sure enough, that’s where it comes down.” Then Carol caught something else. “Wait. Correcting. I’m three degrees off.” She adjusted a calculation. “It’s not going to the city center. It’s going to the suburbs.”