Her Hidden Past

Chapter Fifteen

Koenig entered the kitchen as Coulson and Natasha finished talking.

"Director Fury wants to see you in his office, Agent Romanoff," He announced.

"Thank you," Natasha whispered to Coulson standing up. She headed over to the kitchen bench taking down 3 mugs from one of the cupboards. Pouring in strong black coffee she added an unhealthy amount of cream and sugar to one of the mugs. Balancing the three mugs in one hand she left the kitchen heading through the identical corridors to Fury's office. She knocked with her free hand. Clint opened the door, stepping aside to allow her inside.

"You wanted to see me Sir," She greeted Fury, placing one of the coffees on his desk.

"Have a seat," Fury pulled the coffee towards him.

"Barton," She acknowledged her partner offering him the coffee with the cream and sugar. Turning away once he'd taken it, she sat on the edge of the other chair in front of Fury's desk.

"This-" Fury gestured between the two of them. "- is exactly what I said I didn't want happening. I need you not to be distracted by fighting with each other. I need you both focused on figuring out our next steps."

"We know how to put aside our disagreements, Sir," Natasha sighed. "We'll work together when we need to."

"I need you to work together all the time, not just on missions. We have a lot of important preparation to do, especially now that-" Fury trailed off as a phone started ringing.

Natasha pulled out the phone she had been assigned. "Who has this number? The caller ID is blocked."

"Everyone on base, none of their numbers are blocked." Fury frowned. "Medvedev?" Clint asked softly, hardly needing Natasha's confirmation.

"I didn't expect we would get confirmation that we had a traitor here this quickly." Fury sighed. "Answer it, I'll see if we can trace it."

Natasha waited a few more seconds, putting the phone on speaker and placing it on Fury's desk.

"Hello Natalia," The man's voice was unmistakable.

"Medvedev," Natasha spat. She reached out, grabbing Clint's arm and shaking her head as he went to speak. "Who gave you this number?" Natasha snapped, straightening in her seat.

"Who do you think?" Medvedev sounded pleased with himself. "I have eyes and ears everywhere." Natasha fought down a shudder, gripping the arm rests of the chair to prevent her hands shaking. Medvedev's voice ringing through the room was bringing back unpleasant memories. "Come home, Natalia," Medvedev ordered. "Further the cause your parents wanted you to be a part of."

"The Red Room was not home," Natasha's answer was controlled. "No parent would want their child treated the way you and Lisov treated the girls."

"How could you know what they wanted for you?" Medvedev's voice was pure poison. "You never knew them. You can't know what they would have wanted."

"Whose fault is that?" Natasha's anger flared. "Yours? Lisov's?" Natasha could feel herself losing control. "One of you ordered them killed, just like all the other girl's parents." Natasha closed her eyes briefly, opening them as she felt a gentle grip on her wrist. Opening her eyes, she saw Clint kneeling on the floor in front of her.

"Where did you hear those lies?" Medvedev asked. "Your parents were killed in a house fire, a terrible accident."

"The fire was no accident, just like none of the incidents the other girl's families suffered were accidents," Natasha snapped, gripping Clint's forearm tighter. She shifted her gaze to the corner of the room trying to block out the images trying to invade her mind.