Chapter Text
At some point in her life she decided to go off the deep end. Plunging into a deep chaotic madness, never to be retrieved.
Maybe it made sense to let her rot in a cell. But a person of her caliber. A person so valuable. Shouldn't be left to waste away.
And the power broker saw that.
She removes the black coat she's wearing, the bottle of vodka in her hand slipping to the floor with a clank. She stared out the window at the bustling city, her home New York. Though she never truly felt at home in such a large place.
Her mother always says, ‘home is not a where it’s a who’.
But that’s a load of shit. She's an old bat that's locked up in some mental institution in the west end now.
She was never a good mother. Just like any other mother, she was friendly and caring.
Other times she’d be shooting it up, or doing something that would get her thrown in jail. She would never shield her children from her wrongdoings.
That was the tree this apple had dropped from.
She opened the window, walked out to the ledge and sat, swinging her feet. The night air whipping her hair about.
So many thoughts swelled in her head. They were never any good. Her mind raced the thoughts drowning out the noise of the cars and wind.
She could never make the noise go away.
She tried all the time, thinking of ideas and dubious acts, just to drown the noise out, to control it somehow.
Most of her best heists where planned amidst the noise. Sometimes she would make the noise louder just so she could get a job done.
There was always a push to outdo your last job. Many of her 'coworkers' would wait for her to mess up so they could take her place.
All throughout her life she has always been in this crowd of ‘coworkers’. She’d never really given it much thought. These are her people, whether they’re good or not.
This is who she is. A criminal. A liar. A thief. A spy. Everything that ever was she is. And she embraces it.
A life that had so much promise, is now the life of public enemy number one. A walking target. Today she’d evaded police, iron man, and her own inevitable death.
Today’s target was a national bank. The owner of the bank wanted to be robbed to claim the insurance money which was around 200 million dollars.
It’s a win win he gets a nice chunk of money from the deal, and she gets a couple million. That job was done quick and easy.
Since she’d executed the whole plan, her millions waited in a duffel bag for her at grand central station now. She’d pick it up later.
The buzz of the vodka was starting to wear off. She stood a bit too quickly, her foot slipping off the ledge, she giggled looking down the ten floors. Falling Ten floors was nothing. She regained her balance and tiptoed back to the window. She pulled her phone out to call the power broker.
She’d picked up a few odd jobs every once in a while when things got boring. Working under others wasn't so bad either. It’s fun to do all the action and not have to do any of the planning.
Sometimes the noise would disappear in the heat of a fight, and all she wants is a little quiet. A job could give her that momentary satisfaction.
She dialed the number quietly, “Hey, it's done” she whispered into the phone. “Good,” the voice said, “A little birdie told me there might be another job, if you're interested”, she turned the idea over in her head. She had enough money to leave the country now, maybe even vacation a little.
“Oh hell, why not” she smiled.
She packed all her belongings in a small Louis Vuitton duffle bag. She’d agree to meet with a man at the airport. A bit sketchy seeing as it’s such a public place.
But convenient, if the job wasn't right she could just hop on a plane and ride off into the sunset.
She grabbed the two duffle bags, the one with her new hefty paycheck the other with her clothes and headed out the door. The cab ride would be short so she left early to stop at a bar, and start her pre-game.
She played with her freshly dyed hair. The black-blue color shining in the sun. she’s always stood out, her image is always changing. Today she wore a tight red dress, with a pair of red heart shaped sunglasses to match.
She definitely stood out.
’ He said Terminal B or was it D’. She mumbles fumbling with her new burner phone.
There he sat, his legs crossed, a plain grey sweater and slacks, compared to her, he fit in so seamlessly with the people around him. He seemed sweet, not criminal at all.
She got closer, knowing him immediately from the picture she'd been sent. She sat in front of him smiling removing the glasses. She smiled, his face turning up to her. “Bonnie at your service” her voice came out smooth, her hand coming out for a handshake.
A name can say a lot about a person. An uncommon name may mean they are an uncommon person. A normal boring name may hide secrets. A name given by others can be a simple label. Bonnie is a name given by those she is infamous to.
In Paris she’d committed murder, and multiple robberies by employing a French gang. For a while she could get by, but once everyone figured out she was a woman (a bit sexist for criminals to think only a man could get away with such things), suspects were narrowed down.
She hid in a church disguised as a nun. And when Captain America found her the shootout had the nunnery crying out ‘mon dieu’.
After this event the media deemed her Bonnie, the better half of Bonnie and Clyde, after her track record for robbery and funnily enough car chases.
So she owned it. Leaving her calling card ‘Bonnie’ with little hearts on walls and on people.
CNN ate it up like they were starving. She was in the news for weeks, from Hong Kong to Cairo.
Her crazy ideas, and shady dealings put her on the map. Those petty crimes of stealing were far behind what she does now. Anything you needed done she could do.
And just as Zemo predicted she’d be crazy enough to help him.
“So you are Bonnie” He speaks, his accent thick. “And you are the Baron Helmut Zemo?” He grabs her hand instead of shaking it, he kisses the top of it.
“So what's the job Baron boy” he frowned at the pet name, and got straight to business.
“I want to tear the avengers apart”, she thought for a moment.
“Oh well I don't do that kind of stuff, that's a bit excessive” she chuckles, “you need Brock, he’s good at tearing people apart he’s got the muscle for it”.
“No, I want to split up the Avengers,” he says a bit irritated.
“What’d they do to you huh?” Bonnie stares into his brown eyes. His face becomes a bit grim.
“My family was killed in Sokovia”, he looks up at her waiting for her to speak. Anyone who’s anyone knows what happened in Sokovia.
“So you want revenge for your family? “yes.” he says plainly.
“And we get to ruin the avengers at the same time?” she asks a little too happily.
“If that’s what you want to call it” he folds his hands waiting for an answer. “Count me in” she stands lifting her duffle bags, putting on her sunglasses. He rises, walking first, she follows closely behind.
"y'know you shouldn't be telling all your business to a lady you just met", Bonnie tucks away her phone. zemo chuckles "I have a feeling I can trust you, anyways if you tried anything all it would take is one call to the police and you would be locked up for life".
She smiles at him, the smile holding a bit of malice. She was locked in now, no more vacation to Bermuda.
“We need to get to Austria, we’ll go there first and if all goes well, we’ll continue to Siberia” he finishes looking straight ahead.
“Two guys are tailing us, we're compromised here,” she whispers. “Look natural, but walk fast Baron” she hooks her arm into his, matching his pace. He doesn't flinch continuing to walk outside. “My car is parked out here.. we” she takes the key from his pocket honking the car before he can finish.
“You’re a bit slow for a master criminal, everyone knows not to bring your own car” she speeds up getting into the driver seat. Zemo is annoyed now, regretting hiring help.
“it’s a rental” he grumbles lowly.
She starts up the car revving the engine throwing a duffle bag into Zemos lap. She pulls out of the parking spot, “can you open that for me please” she smiles, tying her hair up. She reaches into zemos lap pulling a submachine gun out of the duffle.
At this point Zemo is a bit frightened, maybe he should’ve done some more research into Bonnie. She seemed to have a good record of getting away with things, and everyone spoke highly of her. In any case he always had a contingency plan.
She rolls down Zemos window. “Lean back” she yells pointing the gun out the window. She shoots twice hitting both of the men following their trail.
“BULLSEYE” she shouts. Zemo smiles at her excitement. No, this was definitely a good idea.
She steps on the gas speeding off.