Chapter I

                                    

                                          
Different Roads
                          
R U S S I A
                          
Natasha woke up out of the trance given to her by a baseball bat, finding her hands, arms and feet tied to a rickety chair, inside the warehouse, next to some unfinished railroad tracks under construction. She blinked tightly, and managed to make out the figures of General Georgi Luchkov and two other thugs, one was a stout man, this one was Andrei, the other, Anton, was taller and had many burns across his face. Anton reached over and punched Natasha across her face to rouse her of her trance. She yelped in pain, shaking her sweaty red hair out of her face. 
                          
'This is not how I wanted the evening to go.' said Luchkov.
                          
She replied back in Russian smoothly, 'I know how you wanted this evening to go. Believe me, this is better.'
                          
He scoffed at her comment. 'I'd like to know why they sent you to carry out a carrier, a stained glass and other random items.'
                          
He nodded at Anton, who approached her, grab the top of her chair, and tantalizingly tilted it towards the story below. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a sharp needle poking out of a spindle. She panted, frantically keeping her feet on the ground. 
                          
'I thought General Solohob was in charge of the export business,' she said, faking innocence, as Anton let her up. 
                          
'Solohob?' he said amusingly. 'Your reputation is quite a progression. The famous Black Widow.' he said mockingly. 'Nothing but a pretty face.' 
                          
She sensed his pride overflow, so she decided to poke it. 'You really think I'm pretty?' 
                          
She saw Andrei eyeing the pair of pliers, among all the other tools of torture. She knew they were going to pull a few of her teeth out, but she could easily cut off everyone's dicks off in there with those pliers.
                          
Andrei handed Luchkov the pliers while Anton next to her grabbed her jaw with both hands on each side and forced it open. She squeaked, but knew it would compromised her mission if she beat him up while she was already getting so much information.  
                          
'We do not need the Lermontov to transfer the tanks,' Luchkov said arrogantly. 'Tell him, well . . .' He switched to English, noticing her bound hands and locked jaw. 'You may have to write it down.' 
                          
She was whimpering due to the pain. She heard a small ringing coming from her right. Out of Anton's pocket. He pushed his hands away from her jaw. He took out his, which was ringing from an unknown number. 
                          
A very familiar number.
                          
'Hello?' he said. After a moment, he outstretched his arm to give Luchkov his phone. 'It's for you.'  
                          
Luchkov took the phone, annoyed and angry. 'You listen carefully— '
                          
She watched Luchkov's expressions turn from irritated to perplexed to fear. He walked towards and shoved the phone against her ear. She nudged her shoulder for better balance, anticipating the caller's voice.
                          
'We need you to come in,' said Coulson.  
                          
She huffed in exasperation. 'Are you kidding me? I'm working!' 
                          
She ignored the tiny cough of scepticism from the shorter man.
                          
'This takes precedence,' Coulson said dismissively.