Always Okay ─ n. romanoff ✓

eleven

BY THE time Sasha stepped out of the shower and into the kitchen, it appeared as though the conference had already begun. She took a seat at the table and smiled.

"I can't believe you started without me." She propped her elbows up on the table. "So what's the sitch?"

The heads of every other person in the room swiveled in her direction, eyebrows raised and lips pulled into smirks. Sasha sighed.

"Am I the only one who's cultured? God. You're disappointing me. Anyway, what's the plan?"

"Break into Fort Meade, grab his stealth suit..." Nat gestured to Sam, then to the open file on the table. "Grab Jasper Sitwell.

Sasha pulled the file closer.

"Wow. I mean, I have no idea what this has to do with Sitwell, but wow. That's so cool."

Sam smiled a little. Natasha shook her head, but she was smirking as well. Even Steve had the slightest grin on his face. Nat yanked Sasha's long, wet ponytail gently.

"Stay on task, kid. You've got the security cameras. Now let's go."

That really went without saying. Sasha was the only one there who could take down a major security system in seconds. Part of her really wanted to be part of the action, but she felt weak. She didn't want to fail and screw the entire mission up because of her own stupidity. Right now, her only priority was avenging Fury and taking down Hydra.

★★★

Hacking computers was the type of disturbed fun Sasha had always had a taste for. Even something as small as disabling the security at Fort Meade gave her a rush of excitement, a feeling of finally doing something. For a quick moment when she was typing in that code, she felt like she deserved to be standing next to Captain America himself. Sasha Rushman was not a fuck-up for ten whole minutes that day. At least it was something.

The feeling had worn off by the time Sasha was perched on the edge of a tall building, her legs dangling over the side. She'd essentially been stuck up there so that Natasha could keep her out of trouble. Her assignment, "keep an eye on Sitwell," was about as necessary and as productive as mowing a football field with craft scissors. They didn't need her.

"So are we ever going to do anything, or are we just going to stand up here and stare at each other?" Sasha swung her legs back over the ledge. Natasha pointed to the edge.

"How about you stick to what you're supposed to be doing?" she fired back. "But don't sit so close to the end."

"Yeah, it would be a real tragedy if I happened to fall to my death." Sasha rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you'd all be devastated. Except Tony, who'd probably throw a party."

Steve glanced at Natasha. "Even Stark knows about her? Really?"

Natasha shrugged.

"I was curious what would happen if I put them in a room together. It was anarchy."

"What can I say?" Sasha called, her back facing the two of them. "I just have that kind of presence. Oh, and you guys should probably get downstairs."

Steve and Natasha ran through the metal door that led to the stairs. Sasha leaned out over the edge of the building and looked down. She found Sam standing directly below her at the base of the building waiting for his signal. Unable to resist the urge to experiment, she made finger guns and pointed them at him. Sam stared up and shook his head. She laughed and stepped back, turning around to see Jasper Sitwell being tossed from the door onto the roof. He was followed by Nat and Steve.

"Tell me about Zola's algorithm," Steve ordered. Sitwell stood up and put on his glasses, walking backward.

"Never heard of it."

"What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?" Steve pressed on. Sasha had absolutely no idea what was going on or what the Lemurian Star was.

"I was throwing up, I get seasick." Sitwell's heels were touching the edge of the building, but he only smiled. "Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof? Because it's really not your style, Rogers."

Sasha was just about to volunteer when Steve responded, " You're right. It's not. It's hers."

Natasha kicked him swiftly off the roof.

"He screams like a little kid," Sasha felt a need to note. "I already hate him."

Suddenly, Sam, clad in his recently acquired Falcon suit, flew up onto the roof and dropped Sitwell from five feet above the ground. Sitwell slammed face-first against the cement. On

Natasha's cue, the four of them surrounded him on all sides. Sasha reached back and put a hand on the hilt of one of her swords. As it turned out, she didn't need it.

"Zola's algorithm is a program...for choosing Insight's targets!" The words spilled out of Sitwell's mouth. Sasha took a step forward.

"Who are you targeting?" she asked, drawing the sword and lightly pressing the tip to his chest.

"You! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa city. Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to Hydra! Now, or in the future."

Sasha lowered her sword. She didn't like the way this was looking.

"The future?" Steve asked. "How could it know?"

"Something tells me this is more arbitrary than algorithmic," Sasha added.

"How could it not?" Sitwell laughed, totally ignoring Sasha. " The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught Hydra how to read it. Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, e-mails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future."

"I say again, complete arbitration!" The sword was touching Sitwell again. "Math can't solve a problem that's not mathematical."

"And what then?" Steve said, also ignoring Sasha. Sitwell's face went crestfallen.

"Oh, my God. Pierce is gonna kill me," he murmured to himself. Sasha dug the tip of her blade deeper into his skin.

"Not if we get to you first. Answer the fucking question!"

"Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time."