Svetlana Volkov, one of the best assassins to ever be created. She is the 'sister' of Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova, having been used on a mission to bring Yelena to the Red Room, her home.
After breaking out of the Red Room on her own, Svetla...
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- "Depends on the cocktail." -
2009
Boots strutted out across the sticky pub floor, moving behind the bar and stopping in the centre. A woman stood there with brown hair, reaching just below her shoulders, lightly painted lips and faint makeup on. She had on tight black jeans, black heeled boots with a low cut acid-wash black t-shirt that was half tucked into her jeans, half having fell out during the day.
Placing a shot glass down, she filled it to the brim with vodka and handed it to the man opposite her who lifted it in thanks, knocking it back and she moved onto the next drink, pulling the keg lever and filling a pint glass with cheap lager.
"Sophie, what do you think I should do about this?" A man, Jack, asked, walking behind the bar and she turned to him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at the large penis drawn on his shirt.
"Scrub it out." She replied, American accent thick, but fake.
"I tried that. That's why there's a massive wet patch there." Jack grumbled. "Now it looks like the dick's cum."
"Try harder." She shrugged. "Have you used soap? Put it in the washing machine?"
"No." Jack replied. "Shit! Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because you're stupid." She stated making the few men on the bar stools laugh at Jack.
"Hey! I'm not stupid!" He scoffed.
"She's right. You are." An older man, John, spoke up.
"What? How?" Jack asked, offended.
"You thought a duvet was a dessert." Another man, Tom, chimed in with a laugh.
"You cannot convince me it doesn't sound like one!" Jack exclaimed in defence. "Some sort of fancy pie of something you get on a plate made of sla- Forget it! You're all dicks! Sophie, can you get the Jack from the back. We ran out here."
"Do it yourself. I'm busy." She scoffed.
"Doing what?" Jack asked.
"Making a cocktail." She smirked.
"For who? Who in here is gonna drink a fucking cocktail?" Tom asked with a loud scoff, looking around the bar where multiple men and women were all drinking shots and cheap booze. "Do you even have the stuff?"
"Depends on the cocktail." She replied with a lie; she didn't.
"What about Sex on the Beach?" John questioned. "To be honest, doesn't sound too bad now I said it."
"As long as I get a free shag, I'm happy with Sex on the Beach." Tom joked eliciting a laugh from a few of the men and women around the bar.
"The only people who have sex with you, have been payed first." The woman shot back and more laughter sounded and Tom shook his head, sipping his beer.
Moving out to the back room, the woman searched for a bottle of Jack hidden away through the kegs of booze and other spirits. Pushing away some champagne, which was saved for very, very special events, she grabbed the bottle of Jack.
Blowing the dust off, she read the sell-by-date and saw it had just gone out of date. Shrugged, she strutted back into the bar, bottle swinging at her side. The people that came in the bar would drink it anyway. They wouldn't give a shit as long as it had alcohol in it. Hell, they'd drink rubbing alcohol if offered to them.
The door pushed open as she placed it on the back shelf and a child, around six walked in and she gave him a small smile which he returned but in a large grin. He sat down at a bar stool next to Tom, his jumper marked with holes and dirt. Getting a proper look at him, she noticed his bleeding nose and sighed.
"Another fight? Luke, really?" She asked, grabbing him a tissue. "You know you can't take them."
"Hey!" Luke whined in offence.
"It's true. You can't." She shrugged as he wiped his nose free of the blood, smudging it on his top lip. "A bit there. There you go."
"Thanks, Phee." Luke smiled, leaning on the bar. "Can I have a drink?"
"What?" She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.
"A whiskey." The boy grinned and she scoffed, shaking her head as the men on the bar stools and Jack chuckled.
"Nice try. It's a coke or water." She mused.
"Fine. Coke. The water's horrible here." Luke grimaced and she sprayed the drink into a glass and handed it to him.
The man at the end of the bar was now passed out, head flopped onto the wood of it and glass empty. Grabbing it, she put it in the washing crates that were stacked with many more different cups. The door pushed open again and Jack's eyes rows furrowed.
"They looked way to nicely dressed to be coming in here." He stated and everyone turned to glare at the newcomers; a red head and a brunette.
The two scanned the bar, ignoring the harsh glares being given, even by Luke, before their eyes zeroed on the woman. She stood straighter, hand sneaking under the bar to grab her gun and she saw the red head reach for her pocket, but she pulled out an ID.
"Two beers, please." She demanded, sitting down with the brunette next to Luke who shuffled closer to Tom.
The woman filled up their glasses, eyes glaring heatedly at the red head who seemed almost confused as she roughly handed them their drinks, the liquid spilling a little on their laps and the brunette sighed in annoyance, wiping his trousers before taking a sip of the beer, cringing at the taste.
"That's cheap." He commented quietly as Luke reached to grab some peanuts from the bowl in front of him, chewing quietly as everyone slowly returned to what they were doing.
"It's cheap or nothing. You don't like it? Get out." The woman said firmly, eyes still staring at the red head with hatred, the shorter woman still seemingly confused.
"I can't drink this anymore, Nat." The brunette whispered, reaching into his pocket, looking up at the woman who turned her gaze to him, hand still resting on her gun under the bar.
It all seemed to happen at once, she jumped over the bar, shoving Luke into Tom's lap and kicked the brunette in the face in the process. The red head stood up and tried to kick at her but she grabbed her ankle, twisting it and pushing her to the floor.
A gun sounded and the red head groaned, blood seeping onto her fingers as she touched her bicep. The brunette tried to get up but a knife caught in his hand, keeping him to the floor. People watched as the door was ripped open and the woman ran out quickly, shoving past people to get down an alleyway.
She had hidden herself so well all of these years, why now did they have to come and duck up everything. Yes, she didn't get payed a whole lot and her home was shitty and falling apart but she was comfortable. Comfortable lying to everyone that her name was Sophie Lee and not her real name; Svetlana Volkov.
