The Ghost [Marvel | Steve Rogers]

Chapter 4

Russia

Late Fall 1996

Despite the headache that pulsed behind her eyes and the way her muscles felt like they were cramping from overexertion despite having done little to work them yet, Nadya was alert and attentive. She had to be. Anything less was weak. Even the Treatment was no excuse for weakness. Far from it, really.

Anything less than perfection was considered failure. But she'd long learned how to suffer through. Headaches and broken fingers and cracked ribs were nothing to her now. She could hide it all, even from herself.

So when Madame B gestured for her and Inga to take the floor, her pale eyes lethal and cold, Nadya walked to meet the other girl as though her body didn't feel on the verge of rebelling against her. Each step was measured and easy, her breath coming in an even, relaxed rhythm. And before Madame B could say a word, Nadya was darting forward, hands and feet lashing out faster than Inga could track with her dark eyes.

But the other girl recovered quickly, retaliating in kind. She hit hard, and she struck fast, her heel connecting with Nadya's thigh with enough force she could have snapped the limb out from under her. But Nadya was faster, shifting her weight so the power transferred from the other girl's kick helped fuel Nadya's own attack, helping her twist and propel her body around and through the air to crash with precise efficiency into the dark-haired girl's torso.

Back and forth it went, both girls fast and clever, bodies lithe and honed into effective weapons. But Nadya was proving stronger, her strikes just that much faster, her blows—when they landed properly—just that much harder. Her acrobatics were fluid and swift. With one final, whirling tackle, Nadya sent Inga slamming into the floor with a violent crack, her knee digging into the centre of the other girl's back. Beneath her, the dark haired girl's breath wheezed erratically out of her, severely winded from being driven into the ground.

But she didn't finish it. She couldn't. It hadn't been an even fight. As much as Nadya knew she should, she didn't reach down and end it. Despite knowing that Inga was not the strongest of the older girls who remained, it sat wrong with Nadya to do it. It wasn't supposed to be a lethal fight today, not between the older girls. They were supposed to be able to fight until Madame B called time. Nadya shouldn't have been able to take Inga down as she had; she hadn't anticipated the degree of the Treatment's effects this time.

Which was why she should finish it; Inga was weak, especially compared to Nadya.

"Nadya." Madame B's voice was sharp and pointed. Nadya knew what she wanted. The other girl didn't even struggle, unable to fight back even if she had tried. The way Nadya had her pinned precluded any chance of continuing the fight unless Nadya let her. It would be too obvious if Nadya let her 'fight her way free.' Nadya glanced up from where her grey eyes had been fixed on the back of Inga's head.

Natalia was standing not far away among her own group mates, her green eyes grave and hard as she watched the scene before her. Every girl in the room watched, from the girls younger than Natalia to the remaining girl from Nadya's group, Katerina, who stood next to Madame B. Each one bore the same expression as the redhead on their face. Eyes sliding shut as her head dropped back to the girl lying helpless below her, Nadya inhaled deeply before her hands flashed out.

A wet crack echoed through the room.

Standing, Nadya glanced toward their Training Mistress, her own eyes as hard and blank as the older woman's. But even as unreadable as her face was, Nadya could still tell Madame B was disappointed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the eyes of one of the younger girls widen. But Nadya didn't have time to react, the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly prickling with unease.