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RUSSIA

There was a building, a warehouse, next to some unfinished railroad tracks under construction. The building was only occupied by Georgi Luchkov, a Russian general, and two thugs, with a prisoner amongst them, tied to a chair. The taller thug was in the middle of hitting the spy, a redheaded Russian woman in a black tank top. They had a conversation in Russian.

General Luchkov said in Russian, "This is not how I wanted the evening to go."

"I know how you wanted this evening to go," Natasha replied. "Believe me, this is better."

"I'd like to know why they sent you to carry out a carrier, a stained glass and other random items."

The taller thug pushed her chair back, tilting it over the edge of a few story drop, and Natasha hid her fear.

"I thought General Solohob was in charge of the export business," Natasha retorted.

"Solohob?" Luchkov repeated. "Your reputation is quite a progression. The famous Black Widow. Nothing but a pretty face."

"You really think I'm pretty?"

Luchkov walked over to a table filled with tools of torture and interrogation, picking up a pair of pliers. The tall thug next to her forced her jaw open.

"We do not need the Lermontov to transfer the tanks," Luchkov said. "Tell him, well..." He spoke in English, "You may have to write it down."

A phone rang, and the weasely thug looked to his phone in confusion. He picked it up and said, "Ya?" He looked to Luchkov. "It's for you."

Luchkov took the phone, annoyed and angry. "Who the hell is..."

"You're at 114 Solenski Plaza, 3rd floor," Coulson said. "We have an F22 exactly 8 miles out. Put the woman on the phone or I will blow up the block before you can make the lobby."

Luchkov placed the cell phone against Natasha's ear seeing how she was tied to a chair with her hands tied behind her back.

"We need you to come in," Coulson told her.

"Are you kidding?" Natasha replied. "I'm working!"

"This takes precedence."

"I'm in the middle of an interrogation and this moron is giving me everything."

Luchkov, confused, said, "I don't give everything."

Natasha frowned at Luchkov. "Look, you can't pull me out of this right now."

"Natasha. The Bartons have been compromised," Coulson informed.

Natasha, after a beat, said, "Let me put you on hold."

Natasha nodded to Luchkov. When he grabbed the phone, she hit him with her leg and head-butted him. She stood, still tied to the chair, and kick-boxed the tall thug in the face. She rolled over to the weasely thug, tripped him, and stomped on his foot when he tried to pin her, then she knocked him out with a head-butt. Coulson waited calmly, listening to her take three men down with her arms literally tied behind her back. She flipped, breaking the chair on weasely thug's ribcage, and looked to the tall thug, standing up. She kicked him too, knocking him out cold. She then wrapped Luchkov's legs with a chain and pushed him down the hole he was threatening to drop her down. He hung there, in pain, and she grabbed her shoes and the phone.

"Where're the Bartons now?" Natasha asked.

"We don't know," Coulson replied.

"But they're alive."

"We think so," Coulson said. "I'll brief you on everything when you get back. But first, we need you to talk to the big guy."

"Coulson, you know that Stark only trusts me about as far as he can throw me."

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