Contractual Obligations

Force

A/N:

CH.1: Yelena and her target make some unforgettable memories in Amsterdam. <Had a lot of fun writing the fight scene in this one, lmk if you like pls>

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Ohio - 2023

"The plan, Val. What's the plan?"

"Well, the plans the best part."

Outside her kitchen window, the sky above Yelena's 42 acres threatened to go dark, the days crimped short as winter crept on them. Val ashed her cigarette in the potted plant on the table.

"Let's start with plan A. Shall we? Plan A is 'Force'. Devin is in Amsterdam on big business apparently at the order of the Power Broker. Appraisal of some vibranium or whatever. Besides the point," Val said, scanning Yelena's face to make sure she was following. "Break in, intercept her at her apartment in Amsterdam, pop her with a state-of-the-art sedative, and extract her via Quinjet the next morning. Simple." She smiled, sitting back in her chair.

"Simple." Yelena scoffed.

"Oh, and by the way," Val added. "Try to catch her off guard, if you can."

Amsterdam - 2023

Yelena had been to Amsterdam dozens of times before. There had been times when she had spent weeks in the city. She had seen the city from all its angles, stared at it in all its faces, left people lying dead in it's streets.

And she could barely remember any of it.

To her, Amsterdam was a blur of rooftops, of strangers behind a sniper's lens. It was as if the memories were hardly even hers. That made it a bit easier.

She had met Amsterdam so many times. But the city was a lot more beautiful when she was meeting it as herself.

Maybe she ought to work for whoever was paying Devin. Whoever it was, at the very least, could afford a nice, historical, antique apartment to rent. But if she worked for them, she'd suggest some better security.

Devin's apartment was a row house, the kind pushed right up against the canal. It was as expensive as it was beautiful, with high ceilings and stained hardwood floors. And in Devin's case, it as messy as it was chaotic. As if Devin James was posing as a Vibranium Appraiser, and living as a high-school aged teenager.

"Uck," Yelena said, nose scrunching in disgust as she kicked papers and a pizza box from her way. "Yeah, real professional." she mumbled. Leave it to Val to find the one person on earth seemingly more messy than Alexei. The place was filled with anything and everything that could be classified as 'useless' one way or another: papers and files in disarray, book stacks on top of books, and - surprisingly enough - slick, Vibranium weaponry.

"Doooon't be nosey, Yelena." she whispered to herself. "Don't be nosey."

But surveying your surroundings wasn't nosey. It was cautious. Spy 101.

Yelena lingered over a blade resting along the coffee table, about twelve inches long, affixed to a black and jade handle. Along the curve was neatly etched Wakandan, shining teal in the low light. Another just like it sat haphazardly in the chair beside the TV.

Beside each sat a small black ball, no bigger than the size of a pearl, almost as if forgotten. And each was etched just the same. Yelena squatted, plucking the orb from its place, looking down at the inscription.