Dancing in Her Webs | Yelena Belova [1]

Chapter 3

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  Irina closed her eyes and took herself back to the one place that never failed as an escape route in attempts to block the commotion —her father's basement that housed the many technological things that were way ahead of her and her future grandchildren's lives.

  But instead of her father's basement/garage workshop appearing, she was back in Miami, trapped in the same room Pepper was strapped down in. She was in agony; her skin sticky with sweat as the colour of her skin changed from orangey-red back to her normal skin tone. Irina couldn't do anything. All she could do was watch while she was chained up like some animal.

  Irina snapped her eyes open, her breathing heavy that she's quick to control. She met Yelena's gaze, and the blonde woman began to countdown silently, using her fingers. When that last finger tucked under her thumb, she grabbed Irene's forearm, urging her to follow.

  Irina bolted after Yelena across the hall, gunshots popping from one of the intruder's rifles. She covered her head, copying Yelena's low and hurried figure that scampered until she was slammed up against the wall.

  Irene gasped in surprise, but relaxed once she caught the familiar head of red hair. She hurried behind Natasha while Yelena reached across her to the white knob near her shoulder, and twisted it.

  Sparks ignited from each light bulb as they whistle and simultaneously burst.

  Yelena shoved Natasha off her and ran for the exit while she and Nat took down a couple of the intruders. Irina stayed out of their way until she heard Natasha call for her.

  Exiting through the front door, gunshots immediately popped from outside, just below the balcony Irina once stood near.

  She looked across the empty space that split her and Natasha from Yelena, who was pressed against the elevator. She peeked around the corner, only for more gunshots to fire from down the stairwell.

  Irina jerked her head away, covering her head until she heard something that sounded like a rock hit the stairs and bounce a couple of times before exploding —a grenade.

  She snapped her head back to Yelena as she ran up the stairs. Irene followed, hot on her trail, while Natasha brought up the rear. "Where are we trying to get?" Natasha hollered, the commotion settling for only seconds.

  "Motorbike! East side of the building!" Yelena hollered back.

  How are we all going to fit on a motorcycle? Irene thought. She jerked her head to the side when a bullet broke the glass on their right, nearly catching one of them. "Your math sucks!"

  "This isn't the time," Natasha scolded.

  Irina ignored the comment. She climbed after Yelena out the window, sprinting across the slanted rooftop. Just a ways up, a shiny roof to another connecting building sloped up that Yelena skillfully scaled up.

  "You've got to be kidding me," Irina got out in one breath.

  She copied Yelena's elegant movements that definitely were not graceful —but she managed, and it got her sliding down the other side of the roof.

  Once her shoes made contact with another connecting roof, she stumbled but continued nonetheless after Yelena. Reaching the end, Irene nearly slid off the edge, catching herself on the old tall, metal cylinder tower —that's connected to the building they're on— and grabbed a fist full of Yelena's bag to steady herself more.