The Unbreakable Code (a YJ fanfic)

Chapter Nine: "Try Me"

"Too many runaways eating up the night."
Starship, We Built This City

"Nightwing!" I thanked the Lord above, as Wally came bursting back in. Dick looked as if he has the sudden urge to slap Wally into the afterlife. Not that I had any idea why...

Oh, stop lying to yourself.

"Hold on," Wally said, observing our current position, "did I interrupt something?"

"No," I answered quickly, standing up hastily. "Nothing at all. You need something, Wallman?"

"Yeah, Nat called," he informed me. Then he fixed Dick with a stare, "If you even think about hurting her, I will actually kill you."

"I'm right here," I reminded him.

"Did he try something on you?" Wally asked.

"None of your business, but yes, I-!"

"No, what made you think that?" I quickly jumped in, cutting Dick off.

"Only that he was leaning into you, and looked like he was going to give you a strong lip massage," Wally said skeptically.

I turned very red, and Dick stood up angrily.
"What was that about Nat?" I questioned weakly, to try and divert attention.

"Something about her needing your help on a job..."

"Since when is she back on jobs?" I exclaimed. "Sod it all!" I started to run, when Wally stopped me with an arm.

"Wait!" He gave me a conflicted look, "... Be careful,"

"Careful is my middle name," I replied.

"Pretty sure it's Kolisnyk, Romanoff or Durand," Wally joked. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Dick looking more annoyed than ever.

"True, true." I ruffled the speedster's ginger hair, before attempting to make another dash for it.

"Wait!"

Oh, for God's sake...

"I don't have time to wait!" I turned to Dick.

"I'm just going to warn you... When you get back... I'm going to finish what I started in here."

Oh my.

I nodded dumbly, before finally taking off out of the Hall. I spotted both of the boys for a second, glaring daggers at each other.
The hell?

I ignored my feelings for now, and came to a stop to phone Nat. It picked up first ring, much to my relief. "Hello?"

"Natasha Romanoff, what are you doing?"

"A job?..."

I sighed, "I'm coming, you twat. Where the hell are you?"

£

"What the hell where you thinking?" I shouted over the rattle of gunfire.

"Well, I found a mob of Underdogs here, so I thought I'd clean 'em up!" Natasha replied, reloading her AK-47.

"Bad bloody idea!" I whispered, drawing my own gun from my holster.

"It's just like Malmo all over again!" The Russian commented.

"You and I remember Malmo very differently," I replied, quickly firing at the first four guys in the front line.

"Hold your fire!" All of a sudden, the hail of bullets stopped; Natasha and I simultaneously froze, and glanced at each other.

Bollocks.

"Come out," came a calm voice, "it's over... For now, at least."

Me= dead.

My Russian counterpart and I slowly stood up, but didn't take our hands off our weapons. Standing quite a way away from us, was a short man, with a sniper strapped to his back. He gave an uncanny resemblance to Dad, back in his golden age.

"Do you know who I am?" The man asked, well, demanded.

"Nope," Natasha answered dismissively.

"But judging from those cheekbones, I'd say you're from Eastern Ukraine," I added.

"You are correct, Durand," the man addressed me.

This is bad. He's using my French name, which means he knows who I am.

"I am Carter," he stated.

"Isn't he the guy your dad was talking about?" Natasha hissed to me.

"I'd assume so," I murmered in response.

"I know that you're hiding your father, Durand," Carter continued, "and most likely with the help of your Soviet friend."

"What is it with Ukrainians calling Russians Soviets?!" Natasha asked, clearly put out.

"The countries have bad blood," I replied. "The USSR wasn't exactly nice to Ukraine. Actually, it wasn't nice to any of the countries, considering all of the communist puppet governments they installed there..."

"I see you know your national history," Carter cut in. "Courtesy of your father, I expect."

"Spot on," I replied.
Damn Dad and his stupid nationalism.

"He owes me, Durand." Carter narrowed his eyes, "I will get what I want; I will kill him, in the end."

My chest tightened. For once there were no more caustic comments up my sleeve. I was slipping back into that helpless stuttering girl again, who wanted nothing more than to go home and watch Star Wars...

... Wait a minute.

A particular scene registered in my mind, and my brown orbs flicked to the ceiling. Taking out my gun that fired ropes, I leaned towards Natasha. "Give the roof your all," I muttered, "I'll take care of the rest." Natasha nodded, readying her gun.

Carter squinted at us, "What are you doing? You know I need to get you out of the way."

"You need glasses," was all Natasha said in response, before lifting her gun, and firing at the ceiling. The bullets formed a hole quick enough, and I fired my own gun; grabbing Natasha, I pulled us up, and we escaped through the roof, ignoring the angry yells and gunfire below us.

Once we'd come down, we ran towards the car I'd parked earlier, and got the hell out of there. "I hate you," I panted as we drove along. "You know I don't even have a bloody driving license,"

"We'll need to book you in for a test," Natasha said firmly, "cuz you can drive, and it would give a bad impression for a supposed hero to be breaking the law."

"To be honest, Nat," I sighed, "I don't even know what I am anymore."

"I know what you are," she looked at me pointedly. "You're a British Ukrainian girl, who's caught in two worlds that are equally problematic; and it's getting harder for you to juggle them."