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"Okay," even Yelena had to admit, "this does not look very good."
Machine guns firing from the rooftop across the street chipped at their cover, and like the proverbial fish out of water, Kate Bishop winced and sank even closer to the ground. She balked.
"Not good?" Okay, maybe not balked; screeched seemed to be the more appropriate term: "No—no, no. What do you—this," and she nearly threw out an arm, which Yelena preemptively knocked back down. They both flinched when bits of parapet came crumbling over their heads, dust filling the air.
"This is not not good, Yelena," Kate Bishop hissed. "This is bad—this is very very bad."
***
In retrospect, perhaps enlisting Kate Bishop's help for this particular job was not the best of Yelena's ideas. The best of her intentions, yes. But for the assignment? "Five, maybe six widows," had been her first call, the Red Room standard for missions of such a calibre. Dragging her finger along the blueprints splayed out on Melina's dining table, she tapped twice on the electrical room and continued, "Yes, that will do. One to cut power, two to search the labs. The rest for cover. And I already know what you're going to say," she added, because Melina looked ready to interrupt: "Obviously, we will have to infiltrate through the sewer system. In Madripoor, no less." She shuddered. "Believe me when I say I am not looking forward to that."
"No," Melina said.
Yelena arched an eyebrow, still scanning the blueprints. "No, that was not what you were going to say?"
"No widows," Melina clarified.
That stopped her. "What? What do you mean no widows?"
"Not for this," Melina said. "And no sewer system," she added, unable to help herself. "Your generation and sewer systems. Always wanting quick and easy, always instant everything. But if you stopped for a second to think, you would see that clearly," Melina jabbed at the paper: "the optimal entry point is here."
Alexei, who had been trying to get Fanny to sit in exchange for a piece of chicken, nodded in solidarity: "You have to learn to start thinking like your mother, Yelena. She has all the good ideas," he said, and when Yelena glowered at him, he raised his hands and said: "Not that I do not like your plan, also. Sewer systems—it is like when you are going through a co-worker's office, through their desk drawers, you know? You start with the bottom drawer first, always, then make your way up. It is more efficient that way. Then, when you have found what you were looking for, you can just," and he mimed shutting drawers, from the top down, "and go."
They both stared at him, Melina with her lips parted slightly, like she didn't know what to say, Yelena, pinching the bridge of her nose, because she, as a matter of fact, did.
"Please," she said, "get off my side, now."
Alexei lifted his chin defiantly. "Never," he declared, and pressed his clenched fist to his chest, right above where his heart would be.
Yelena rolled her eyes, embarrassed but pleased. She was already fighting back a smile, which must have been Alexei's intention: she could see it in his eyes, the way they twinkled while he grinned at her. "Still," Alexei said, "you should really listen to your mother. The roof is your best way in when it comes to a laboratory like this. And Melina would know; she worked in laboratories like this all the time. She was the Red Room's leading research scientist after all."
"I was not the Red Room's leading research scientist," Melina scoffed.
"They called you the architect! Dreykov's architect. You were so good, so brilliant—"
Melina pressed her palm to her forehead and gave a weary sigh. "Yes, well, an architect is very different from engineer," she muttered, and to Yelena's surprise, this was what finally wiped the grin off Alexei's face.
"No," he said. "You don't mean to say..." His entire body went slack, and Fanny saw the opportunity in this and effortlessly swiped the chicken from his hand. She brought it to Yelena's feet, settling on top of her shoes and digging in.
"Good girl," Yelena murmured, crouching to stroke her head. Then she looked between Melina and Alexei, who were eyeing each other grimly, and said: "So, are we going to talk about the mission? Or should I go into the next room while you two make eyes at each other?"
It was enough to snap them out of it. Melina promptly pulled a folder out of a nearby drawer and dropped it on top of the blueprints. "Lyudmila Antonovna Kudrin," she said, while Yelena opened the folder. "Or, as you may know her: Dreykov's right hand."
Yelena resisted the urge to roll her eyes; she'd heard this story many times before. Pitching her voice, she waved her hand airily, imitating those stupid, horrible educational tapes they'd been forced to watch as children: "Lyudmila Antonovna and her scientific contributions continue to be a lasting legacy, the very seed from which the Red Room continues to harvest today—"
"Don't interrupt your mother," Alexei chastised.
Melina made a talking gesture with her right hand, commiserating: "Yes, I remember: blah, blah, blah. And if you were paying attention, you would know Lyudmila also spent her lifetime trying to replicate Abraham Erskine's super soldier serum."
Yelena looked from her to Alexei, who smiled and waved.
"They never managed to make it work, after that first time," Melina continued. "And when she died, Dreykov took her research and put it somewhere safe. Somewhere only he had access to."
"His control table," Yelena said, catching on. "But we destroyed that—"
Melina shrugged. "Yes," she said dryly, "and that is why the information ended up in Madripoor, along with vials of Alexei's blood—not to mention whatever witch-work the Power Broker managed to salvage from Hydra's winter soldier program." She bit her lip, then added: "Even during the Blip, there were rumblings—whispers that someone out there was trying to create a super serum. No one really believed it. There were bigger problems to take care of. But then, last year..." She trailed off.
Last year, John Walker decapitated a man with Captain America's shield, Yelena thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. And that wasn't counting the undisclosed official number of enhanced Flag Smashers played hide and seek with Sam Wilson and the Winter Soldier around the globe. She sifted through the contents of the folder: they were all surveillance stills of Madripoor Pharmaceuticals, Inc., one of the Power Broker's more blatant fronts. She looked at the table as a whole: papers upon papers, information printed on hard copies that could easily be burned.
No widows, indeed.
"So," she said, "the assignment is to steal Alexei's blood and Lyudmila's research—and then what? Make more super soldiers?"
Melina made a face. "Personally, I believe we have more than enough super soldiers running around as it is. But," She sighed, "be that as it may, I doubt the Power Broker agrees. He's gone to ground since last year's fiasco, and my sources tell me no one's looking for him seeing as how the Avengers—" and this time Yelena actually rolled her eyes, "—are currently preoccupied—"
"Ha!" Alexei said, and stabbed forward at thin air. With a pop and a squelch, he yanked his fork back and chuckled.
Yelena shuddered; she'd seen those camera recordings of the wizards pulling the eye out of the giant magic octopus; preoccupied was an understatement.
"As I was saying," Melina said, eyebrow arched Alexei's way, "if I were the Power Broker—"
Yelena was already nodding: "And I had access to super soldier blood and half of two super serum recipes—"
"Then now would be the best time to crawl out of my hole and get to work." Melina looked to the blueprints and the photographs on the table: "Frankly, they can keep Hydra's information for all I care; that has nothing to do with us. But the rest of it..." She looked to Alexei, then Yelena: "The rest of it is a family matter, don't you agree?"
***
Yelena did, she really did. But she'd also been to the island of Madripoor twice already in her lifetime, and both times, big surprise, she had been politely asked to leave.
There might have been bullets involved also.
And so this was the problem: Melina going to Madripoor with her permanent limp was out of the question; and Alexei, loud and big and boisterous, was the wrong kind of conspicuous for the island. It was the very last thing Yelena needed if she wanted to go unnoticed. And if she was going to be stealing from the Power Broker, she needed to go unnoticed for as long as she could.
And so, Kate Bishop.
Because Kate Bishop had fantastic aim with a bow, and not too bad a right-hook, and was selfless in that reckless superhero way of things: jumping in front of traffic to save a dog, jumping out of a building to save Clint Barton. She wasn't an Avenger, technically, which meant she had better odds slipping right past the Power Broker's radar, and she had that can-do, never-give-up attitude that would come in handy once she—well, they—inevitably did.
All things considered, these were very admirable qualities in a partner.
Better yet, Yelena still had Kate Bishop's number, too.
***
Kate Bishop, ever been to Madripoor?
Sent 11:19PM
Can't say I have.
But you probably already knew that.
You'd hate it
I hate it
But the people are nice
The kind that wouldn't think twice about a girl
with a bow and arrows walking down the road.
Sent 11:25PM
This feels like you asking me to
go on a mission with you.
Are you asking me to go on a
mission with you???
Not a mission
More like an errand, for my mother.
Sent 11:28PM
I know who your mother is.
This is definitely a mission.
No it is not
But it could still be a lot of fun.
Sent 11:30PM
***
"You and I seriously need to work on your definition of fun," Kate Bishop remarked, squeezing one eye shut and taking aim. A twang and a snap later, they had their way out of Madripoor Pharma-Inc.: a makeshift zipline from this building to the next. Kate was already swinging her bow onto the wire, and seeing this, Yelena whacked the last of the guards hard in the head with her baton and quickly followed suit.
Landing on the rooftop of the next building, she stashed her batons and said, "Come on—are you saying you are not having fun?"
Kate was curled forward, hands on her knees, using the brief respite to catch her breath. There'd been a lot of running once the alarms had been triggered, and there was bound to be more—they weren't exactly in the clear, yet. Looking up, Kate flashed Yelena a smile.
She held out her thumb and forefinger, then pinched the air as if to say: maybe, just a little. Yelena grinned, triumphant.
Then she promptly tackled Kate to the ground.
***
Kate Bishop had arrived in Madripoor with a collapsible bow stashed inside her coat and a set of collapsible arrows strapped to her leg. And yet her best weapon still had to be her phone, if only because it came with what Kate referred to as the latest and greatest of Bishop Security's advanced access control tech. For all the previous debate about sewer systems and rooftops, Yelena and Kate ended up strolling right through the revolving front doors.
They wore laboratory coats and fake ID badges Yelena had procured, and ditched the same coats and IDs after, on the rooftop. The last of Alexei's blood vials were now safely in Yelena's tactical vest, while Lyudmila's research had been downloaded onto Kate's USB arrow. The Hawkeyes had a lot of strange arrows, but Yelena was still shaking her head at this one in particular; a USB, come on, Kate Bishop, really?
"Shush," was all Kate had said. "I can't hear you properly over the sound of my saving the day."
They made a good team, Yelena liked to think.
"Relax, Kate Bishop," Yelena told her now, chin pressed to her chest as bullets sailed overhead. "As bad as this looks, I have a plan."
"I thought this was the plan," Kate Bishop retorted.
Yelena answered by holding up a tiny blinking detonator: "Always have more than one plan," she said simply, and pressed down.
Kate Bishop winced again, this time at the sound of the explosion. Then she looked at Yelena, eyes going wide: "Did you just...?"
"Sirens," Yelena said, already pulling her up. "If we don't want to get caught, we have to leave now."
***
For all the things about working with Kate Bishop that Yelena was starting to love, Kate was not without flaws as a partner. The thing about her was that she liked to talk. She liked to talk a lot. "Have you noticed you talk too much?" Yelena asked her.
"Uh, I—it's called communicating? It's a very valuable skill to have, especially when working with other people—"
"If you say so," Yelena huffed, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her into an alleyway. She smiled, panting a little: "But you have to admit: it makes running harder than it has to be."
Kate followed her down the alleyway. "Well, when you said we might have to make a run for it, I didn't think you meant literally."
"I didn't," Yelena said, yanking back the covers off her bike. She mounted it, gesturing for Kate to hurry up: "I just hope you can shoot from the road."
It turned out Kate could, and that she'd also brought arrows that were a little less strange than the USB one. One arrow carried an EMP, and another some kind of purple glue. Yelena wondered if the purple had been a decorative choice.
"You said your mother sent you here to get those files and that blood back," Kate yelled over the roar of the engine, firing an arrow that doubled as a stinger.
"She did," Yelena yelled back.
"You didn't mention she asked you to blow up the building!"
"Oh!" Yelena said. She turned hard, and Kate Bishop yelped as they drove down a flight of stairs. Her arms looped around Yelena's waist, holding on for dear life. Behind them, Yelena heard the sound of scraping metal; the car following them had crashed, unable to squeeze into the narrow path. "Well," Yelena said, turning onto the highway: "that's because she didn't!"
"What?" Kate Bishop squawked. "That explosion—that was your call?"
"Hey, now, in my defense, I also pulled the fire alarm so people would leave and no one would get hurt—"
"Yelena!"
"Okay, okay. So only the guys with the guns would get hurt—"
"No, Yelena—look!" and Yelena saw it, then, the lone figure in a battle suit who had walked onto the middle of the road. She came to a screeching stop and lifted her fist.
"Who the hell is that?" Kate Bishop asked, and Yelena heard her draw her bow, aiming, too.
"Honestly?" Yelena answered, and fired. "Your guess is as good as mine."
***
The Power Broker's suit was made of metal, and not just any ordinary metal: something specialized—something else that had been stolen. Yelena was almost impressed. By the sheer look of it, she was willing to bet half the design was based off Dreykov's Taskmaster Protocol, too. She found that part even more interesting; definitely worth telling Melina when she got back.
For now, though, there were more important things to focus on, like not getting hit, which was priority number one for one reason and one reason only: getting hit hurt hard. Kate Bishop was still rolling on her side, clutching her stomach where she'd been kicked. She'd barely gotten onto her feet when Yelena crashed into her. The two of them rolled back in a heap, tangled and panting.
"You don't by any chance have have a third plan, do you?" Kate Bishop asked.
Yelena chuckled, then spat out blood. "No, I don't," she said, "but your suggestion is duly noted." Kate helped her up, and she winced; she hadn't taken a beating like this in a while. "What about you? Any bright ideas?"
"Maybe. But just the one," Kate Bishop said. She pulled an arrow from her leg and said: "On the helmet, the visor: can you see? The entire suit's gotta be powered."
So was Taskmaster's. "Yeah, so?"
"The power's gotta come from somewhere," Kate said. She lifted her bow. "Just gotta find where—"
"Ah," Yelena said. She drew her batons out, and with a twist and flick, they cackled with electricity, too. "Okay, I like your plan," she said, and charged, sliding under the Power Broker's open legs and jamming her first baton into the wedge behind the Power Broker's knee.
It stopped him, but only for a second, and then he yanked it out and crushed it with one hand. The other he used to grab Yelena by the back of the head, and she twisted in his hold, climbing onto his back, pulling at his neck with her second baton. If she could get the goddamn helmet off, maybe she could—and that's when she saw it, the faint glowing chip on the back of his neck.
"Kate Bishop," she grunted, struggling as the Power Broker tried to throw her off. "I found it—" and this time, when the Power Broker sent her flying again, she managed to land on her feet.
The crunch she heard when she did, however, was less reassuring.
"Back of his neck," she grunted, waving off Kate's concern.
"Great," Kate Bishop said, nodding to herself. "Great, great, great: I can work with that."
But she was stashing her arrow back, then choosing another, and this one—this next one, she aimed up at the sky. Yelena frowned: "What are you doing?"
The arrow shot high and far, disappearing into the clouds. Even the Power Broker glanced up, following its path with his gaze; Yelena could picture him looking just as confused behind the helmet as she was. He turned back to them, and he was stalking forward again, and then—
And then—
Through the clouds, the arrow zipped back. It hit its target with a satisfying thwack, and the suit shorted, powering down.
"Huh," Yelena said.
"Boomerang arrow," Kate Bishop said, lowering her bow. She held out an arm to pull Yelena up: "It always comes back."
***
"Come in, come in, come in," Alexei said, waving them inside the safe house. "Friend of Yelena, please make yourself at home."
"This is a safe house, not a home," Yelena grumbled, one arm around Kate Bishop's neck. Kate Bishop smiled politely at Alexei, who beamed back and laughed.
"This one," he said, jerking his thumb Yelena's way as they waddled in. "Always grumpy when she gets hurt, even when she was a child."
Melina took one look at her from behind the cup of tea she was nursing, and raised an eyebrow. "Oh," she said, eyeing Yelena's limp, "are we going to match now?"
"Bite your tongue," Yelena growled, sinking into a chair. Then, because Kate Bishop was standing awkwardly in the kitchen of their safe house, arms tucked to her side, Yelena waved one hand lazily in her direction and said: "Kate Bishop, meet my parents: Alexei and Melina. Parents, meet Kate Bishop."
"Hello, Kate Bishop," Melina said.
"I, uh, I already know who you are," Kate Bishop admitted. "Clint told me," and now all three of them turned to look at her. She blushed. "Natasha, she told him about all of you."
"Oh," Melina said again, genuinely surprised.
"He says she used to talk about the three of you all the time," Kate said.
Beside her, Alexei took a deep breath, chest swelling. Then he quickly turned away, going to the stove. "Sit down, Kate Bishop. I'm going to make you girls something special to eat. You both must be very hungry."
Yelena herself had also looked away, focusing all of her attention on laying Alexei's blood vials on their tiny kitchen table. She lined them up very neatly, like little ducks in a row. A short while later, Kate Bishop set her USB arrow on the table as well, the side of her hand bumping lightly against the side of Yelena’s.
When Yelena finally managed to look up, Kate's smile was small, but understanding. Yelena swallowed hard, then, with her good leg, kicked the chair next to her out.
"Very hungry," she said.
"Very very hungry," Kate agreed and sat down.