Chapter 3 - Gangsta Movie

The Avengers had assembled in the conference room after the water sprinklers had extinguished the fire. Sam was the last one to enter the room. He tilted an empty chair so that the water ran off and took a seat.

Finally, Tony cleared his throat and looked up. "I just got a message from security. A bomb exploded on the thirty-fourth level. There is no injured, only damage to the property. However, I thought maybe I could build a new lab there or a bar." He glanced through the room, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Where's our new little assassin girl?"

Everybody looked around, searching. Only Clint and T'Challa sat on their seats, having already noticed her absence. Slowly, T'Challa raised his hand and unfolded a small piece of paper. He began to read loudly.

"Herewith, I resign from my duties for the kingdom of Wakanda and their king T'Challa. For further information regarding the termination of the contract, please contact the office."

He put the paper on the table and crossed his arms. "I haven't seen Katta since I've dismissed her so she could take the rest of the day off. And this," he pointed at the paper, "must be the reason."

Steve frowned. "A termination?"

T'Challa nodded, his face bitter. "I broke our contract by bringing her to you. She was always loyal but certain that she would leave the moment I betrayed our agreement." His fist clenched as he thought about the situation. Katta had always been one of his most reliable employees, and he was the reason she was gone.

"So, where is she now?" Sam asked, looking around. "I wouldn't exactly call it a coincidence that she vanishes the exact moment the tower is crumbling to pieces. Anybody talked to her?"

"I have talked to Lady Katta", Thor said.

"What did you talk about?" Natasha asked curiously.

"I told her that I would "SHIP" her and my brother since both of them are great fighters, and he would like her," Thor explained.

A collective sigh went through the room. "That has most likely nothing to do with this." Clint shook his head, a hint of worry on his face. "She's not somebody who runs at the first difficulty. She didn't run when we last went to Russia, and there were plenty of people on her heels, ready to bring her head to the highest bidder."

"What do we have here?" Tony projected a scene from the security cameras to the vast TV. Bucky's face went warm as he saw the replay of himself talking to Katta only an hour ago.

"Enlighten us, Barnes. What could you have possible said that she went that angry." T'Challa demanded sharply, examining the scene.

"Hail Hydra," Bucky answered quietly. After a short moment of silence, he proceeded. "Her fighting style, how she behaved, how she secured T'Challa looked like they had trained her."

"And you thought the best way of addressing that subject was confronting her with their salutation without any kind of explanation?" Bruce asked. Bucky remained silent.

"The bomb that exploded was probably one of the few that she always hides in new locations - just in case." T'Challa rubbed his temples.

"How nice of you to inform us that there are sharp bombs in my building," Tony hissed in disbelief.

"She would have taken them back once we left," T'Challa retorted.

"Calm down, boys. That won't help us at all." Natasha interrupted. "F.R.I.D.A.Y, what can you tell us about the whereabouts of Katta?" she addressed the AI.

"Miss Harlovsen left the building twenty minutes ago. She altered her hairstyle. She then hacked into my system and looked for free rooms," the computer system said. Tony coughed.

"She hacked my system? That is impossible."

"We've offered her training for that kind of thing in Wakanda. She's a fast learner," T'Challa muttered.

"So you are going to tell me that we lost an assassin that was probably trained by H.Y.D.R.A and can hack into my systems?" Tony asked.

"If it was just that," Clint muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"God, the task was to find a new Avenger, not to make another powerful enemy." Sam exhaled, shaking his head.

"Where could she have gone, Clint?" Steve asked. Clint sat in the corner of the room, his shoulders sunken.

"We won't find her until she wants us to," he stated. He had always wondered what kind of training Katta had received, but not she nor her siblings had ever lost a word about it. He looked up, an idea arising. "Her siblings, that's it. Natasha, are you still in contact with Erik?"

〰〰〰

Having several safe houses in every bigger city was part of the family business. Magnus, Katta's cousin, was responsible for administrating them. From every job she and the other Harlovsens did, they paid a percentage to finance the whole project.

The safe houses always contained an adequate stocking of food and water, different devices to contact somebody, a fair amount of medical treatment and various tools to change their look. After "using" a safe house, they were reported to Magnus so he could prepare everything to sell them and set up new ones.

Katta held her wrist against a small pad next to the door and heard a quiet click as it unlocked. A few years ago, Magnus had built tiny chips and implanted them in all family members' wrists. This way, they could open each house without a key. There were a few more features built-in, just in case.

She entered and went into the bathroom, taking a closer look at herself in the mirror. Most people searching fugitives were trained to look for darker hair colours, as they were easier to tone. But Katta had time - and bleach.

An hour later, her hair was a bright blonde, and the blue contact lenses hid her green eyes. Her dark clothing had changed for a crimson red business dress that ended just above her knees. Something told her that the Avengers wouldn't let her be in peace. Damn it, Barnes. If she just hadn't sparred with him. They could try. Katta smirked. But she would do everything in her might to run. And if there was one thing she was good at, it was hiding and submerging.

In a little box in the living room were faked passports and a fair amount of money in different currencies stored. Katta looked through the different ones, snorting as she recognized one that must have been made for her brother Erik. With a dark, curled wig and glasses.

Katta put all of that in an elegant handbag and pulled on high heels. Onto her thighs, she attached several knives made of vibranium that wouldn't alarm the airport security.

Inserting an earpiece, she contacted her cousin Magnus.

"Katta, it was about time that I'd hear from you," he immediately reacted. "Where do you want to go?"

"Good question. What would you recommend?" she asked, grinning a bit. It had been a few months since she'd last talked to him. He couldn't attend the family BBQs, too busy with his job.

Katta heard him clicking with the mouse before he answered. "If you want to take off in an hour, I could offer you London."

"The land of tea and baked beans. I'm in." Katta pulled over a well-suited coat and watched her reflection in the mirror.

"Alright, Katta. Take out the phone in the kitchen drawer. I've transferred your flying data and the tickets to it. Would you like me to set up a flat for you, or do you prefer staying in a hotel?"

"A flat would be lovely."

"Do you have something to do with the explosion in the Stark Tower by any chance?" Katta could hear a decent grin in his voice.

"Might have been one of my bombs", she answered, chuckling a bit.

"Alright, that's it. The taxi is waiting outside for you, and the cleaning group is on their way. You know the procedure. Only contact me if you are in great trouble. Goodbye, Katta." Her earpiece clicked, and Katta took it out.

In the bathroom stood a big bucket. She opened the lid and scrunched her nose as the smell of acid wavered in the air. Katta pulled out her earpiece and all the electronic devices and passports she didn't use and watched them dissolve in the fluid. The cleaning group would settle up the rest. Magnus could be counted on.

On her way to the airport, Katta checked the news for the explosion. It was officially declared a gas ignition. She passed the airport control smoothly, and thirty minutes later, her plane took off towards London. Nobody would have ever mistaken this businesswoman for an assassin.

〰〰〰

Natasha sat in the corner of a small cafe a few blocks away from the Stark tower. It was a busy afternoon, and the air was brimming with conversations and customers shouting their orders over the counter. The door swung open, and a tall, hooded figure entered. He walked through the tables, curtly stopped at the counter and then finally reached her table. He pulled the chair back and took a seat before lifting his cowl.

"Black widow, I thought you would never call." Erik Harlovsen offered her a slight smirk as he handed her a cup of coffee.

"What shall I say. I'm a busy woman," Natasha answered. She opened a pack of sugar and poured it into her cup before stirring.

"That, I'm sure." Erik leaned back, mustering her. His eyes seemed to absorb her face, taking in every little detail. Natasha sighed.

"Take a picture. It will last longer."

He chuckled, letting his knuckles crack. "So let's be honest with each other. As much as I like to think that you called me to spend an afternoon together and talk about our most breathtaking kills, I feel there is more."

Natasha swallowed. "I'm afraid you're not going to like the reason I contacted you." He nodded, motioning her to speak on.

"We need to find a Harlovsen that doesn't want to be found. Any ideas?"

He placed his cup onto the table and looked up at her. His eyes narrowed. A shiver went down her spine as she took in his change of mood. The hairs on her neck stood upright as she shuffled on her seat.

"Do you ask me to betray my family? I don't think I favour you enough for that."

His words were meant to be brash, but Erik's voice was cold. He stood up from his seat, making his way to the door. Natasha quickly followed him. He walked down the streets, she on his heels. After a few minutes, Erik wandered off into a dark alley, which was completely empty. Suddenly, he turned around, mustering Natasha. She raised her hands to show that she had no weapons.

"We don't want to harm her. We think that she - - - misunderstood us."

"Her. So, this is about Katta," he stated. His right hand was clenched into a fist. Natasha carefully nodded.

"I'm afraid there is not much you can do to find her. Have a nice day." Erik turned around, ready to walk away. Natasha cursed under her breath and pulled out her gun, cocking it. He froze in his motion and looked over his shoulder. For a second, Natasha thought that he would attack her at any given moment, but he just shrugged and turned back to her, burying his hands in his pocket.

"You're not playing fair," he said, but the smirk was back.

"Old habit, I guess," Natasha shrugged. "Come on, Harlovsen. I'm sure you know where she is. You're family, after all."

"Very right. Imagine the mood at the family table when I betray my sister to a bunch of misfits and ex-criminals. No offence."

Natasha chuckled. "None taken. I can not let you go without a hint. Give me something, so I can justify turning around and imagine I didn't know how you escaped."

His lips curved upwards as he laughed. "Wanna try me? I haven't had a good hand to hand combat in months."

Natasha tilted her head and sighed. She put away her gun and raised her fists.

"Oh, don't do that to me," he sighed. "You're killing me. Honestly. With your looks." Erik came closer until they faced each other. He raised his hands and played with a strand of her hair.

"Fiery."

"Are you going to compliment me until I give up?" she breathed.

"No, no, no, no." He brushed the hair behind her ear and bent down until his lips were close to her ear. To her earpiece. She cursed internally.

"If one of you ever thinks about harming a Harlovsen, be sure that we'll hunt you until nobody's left."

He backed away and winked at Natasha before he turned around. She contemplated whether she should follow him when he spoke over his shoulder.

"Think good, Romanov. You're not looking for somebody that tries to hide." And with that, he turned around a corner and vanished.

"You heard that?" she asked. A click went through her ear as the speaker was activated.

"Unfortunately, every single word," Tony's voice rang out. "God, Natasha. For a second, I thought you'd mount him on the spot."

"Very funny," she muttered as she made her way back to the Stark Tower. A few minutes later, she entered the conference room, where the Avengers again had assembled.

Tony clapped his hands, looking out of the window. "Here we are, as dumb as before."

"Not necessarily," Natasha answered.

"How?" Tony turned around. He raised his pointer finger, tapping the table in front of him. "We don't know where she is, what she looks like. She probably even changed her name."

"No, wait a second. I think Natasha has a point," Clint interrupted. He stood up, slowly walking towards Tony.

"What would somebody do if he or she doesn't want to be found?" he asked, looking around."

"Maybe tone their hair, wear sunglasses and dark clothes," Steven answered.

"Cap, this is no gangster movie from the forties," Tony contradicted, shaking his head.

"We're not looking for somebody that tries to hide," Bruce mumbled, looking up. "That means we're looking for somebody that does not hide. She doesn't try to cover herself. She will wear eye-catching clothes that would have made us exclude her immediately."

Tony's face lightened. He made his way through the room and started tapping on a laptop. On the screen in the conference room commenced the video of the airports' security cam.

"Let's say she took one hour to change and get to the airport, plus additional thirty minutes to organize the whole thing," Tony mumbled while fast-forwarding the record.

He tapped the play button, and the whole team stared, concentrating at the screen. They remained silent for another thirty minutes before Clint spoke up.

"Rewind the tape, 30 seconds."

Tony followed his instruction and replayed the part. "Stop!" Clint said and pointed towards the screen. "There she is."

The woman, he pointed at, wore a red business dress with a topcoat. She elegantly walked in her heels, a little handbag in her left hand. Her middle-length hair was bleached a platin blonde.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, watching her closely.

"Absolutely", Clint stated. He had known her for years, and even if she changed as much as she did here, he would always recognize her.

"She has no luggage," Bruce remarked.

"The airport has checked her in as Claire Villeneuve," Tony said, scanning the airport system.

"Very impressive. Where did she get a new identity so fast?" T'Challa asked, looking at his former employee.

"I'm sure the Harlovsens' have a sophisticated system to submerge," Natascha said.

"Settle the Quinjet. We have a destination," Tony instructed, getting up. "London."