James Bond Wishes... (pt.1)

January 26, 2018:

Black Widows escape from Madripoor isn't as smooth as expected.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Madripoor
Eleven Hours after Escape and Mission Completion… (Follows Raining Crystal)

It took time for Natasha to lose her tails. Ran her across the island from the royal quarters of Hightown down in to the slums and soon the bay around Lowtown, shacks and shanties line it, the beach and sun is a lot different from home base right now. HQ is covered in that hellish snow storm. This? This could be akin to paradise.

Natasha was fed coordinates for pick up and relocation in the early AMs. As shes top tier she usually operates directly on orders of Nick Fury or Maria Hill. When they're indisposed, busy or shes required lesser sorties like this are expected.

Natasha had a safe house setup for her to go to after she got done at the Skyrise. She had clothing and gear stashed there, a shower and some supplies. So with a fresh new look and a clean set of clothes, the Agent made her way through some busy crowds in the streets.

A brown leather jacket, a black tshirt, a black military-style boonie hat and some black jeans with black boots… she completed the outfit with a grey canvas backpack that was over her shoulders.

Natasha's eyes were on the phone, she was finishing up with it and moving through the crowds tow the point indicated. A heavy exhale escaped between her lips and she looked up and stepped out of the way of a man on a motorcycle carrying boxes of live chickens behind him.

SHIELD presence on Madripoor is very much a tolerated thing and such, limited, one outpost and it's safehouses constantly found and raided and burned down often, it's a high pay sector if one gets stationed here, the death toll for SHIELD operatives in Madripoor is impressive statically. HYDRA has always been a strong presence, it's base having even existed here before. Fortunately much of HYDRA activity in these parts has loosened, broken off in subcommand squabbles and been dismantled or partitioned out in to new units, new organizations, like China White's pirates, the Baroness' Vipers, the many gangs Lo-and-Hi tech that call this modern day Nassau home.

An oxen is walked by her, it's hooves clacking loudly off cobblestone and dirt pathways that wind downwards, on off to the sprawl of white beach dotted in boats, hundreds of them, far out she can see the cluster of a conjoined floating village, a flotilla thats been created by countless boats that double as homes, fisherman, old world and likely living in a clan like structure, families helping families. Part of the beauty of Madripoor, its a complete blend of the worlds past and the worlds ahead. Right next to each other so the contrast stands out even more.

The rendezvous point for her pick up is below, the beach and a small dock, the shortest jutting out in a fan of the wooden platforms, some free floating barrels keeping them up and the very older ones still hosting wooden supports. It's crowded with tradesmen, fishermen, nets strung up everywhere, trucks picking up and departing, many of them just every day civilian vehicles with the cabs being filled. While above her head a shadow passes, theres the sound of micro-exhausts blowing out and a flying car races past sailing through the air towards the tall skyscrapers she'd hours ago escaped.

Natasha's green eyes were shielded by the brim of the black cap that sat atop her head, her red hair was visible beneath it but it might get overlooked by most who just assumed she was some short woman walking on about her business, a tourist maybe.

Natasha walked past a line of barrels filled with fish and seawater and she dropped a burner phone into one of them. Her backpack was adjusted on her shoulders and she moved toward the docks. She walked along the docks for a spell, until that shadow passed overhead which made her glance up to see the vehicle soaring past on its way toward the uppercrust parts of the city.

She didn't linger her gaze long however, instead she made for the staircase that would go down to the beach and down to the underside of the docks… If that was her rendezvous she'd be there on-time and she was eager to get back to base. So down beneath the docks the agent went, her boots crunching on the sands now.

It's a packed bump-to-bump of bodies at first to get on to the docks once shes bottom of the stairs, not because it is so crammed but many of these people refuse to give room or turn away from work, work is everything and she just crossed through the 'fisherman's lane' on land, people carrying bushels, baskets and nets have no time to slow down or make room for anyone, time is money, money is food for their struggling families.

It's past the throng she is begins to hear the growling of a large engine, the beastly rumble of it that announces something new, waves ripple and the smaller dock rises and dips, an 80-foot dull grey PT Boat with red underbelly is situating itself in, actually bumping aside a parked ship that is much less bulky and large.

A blonde man in a bright red and yellow Hawaiian shirt with glasses and khaki shorts is standing on it's deck, looking around the faces and people on the docks. The sun glinting reflectively off his shades and hes looking at Natasha, a friendly smile like hes familiar with her and shes given a wave. No one shes ever met.

Natasha plods across the beach in boots, which is always a nice feeling… She eyes the boat as it draws up toward shore and she releases a light exhale. As he waves, she just stares with her hips flared out to the left and her right leg extended off to the side a little… the agent waited for her ride.

When he got near enough she walked out into the wet sand and then the tips of the tide and went to take her backpack off of her shoulders. "Whats your name?" She asked the blonde man in the fancy shirt. "I've not seen you before." Which made Romanoff very uncomfortable, even if it wasn't unheard of… SHIELD was always going through 'red shirts' so to speak.

"Me?" The blond man in glasses asks, "I'm Eben, we were told by a very scary man that we're to meet one of his clients here. A very scary man with one eye."

Eben points at his glasses tapping the right one. "We're regulars in these parts, specialists. Best UBER of the sea." The American continues on, he grins at her widely, then hops down off the boat's top to walk towards her, his hand extending out like he wants to shake hers or accept her bag.

Natasha watched 'Eben' drop down onto the sandy shore and make his way toward her with his hand extended. Its not that she wanted to be mean to him, its that she didn't know who he was and he seemed a little too eager to be 'casual' about it. "Right." Natasha said to him and when he approached, she just accepted the handshake because she wasn't giving him her bag.

"So whats the deal then?" She asked. "Are we leaving now or are we waiting for a meetup. This place is busy, but its not necessarily secure. Besides, I think homeless people call these underdock areas 'bedrooms' so we should probably get going, don't you think, Mister Eben?" She asked, one hand adjusting the strap of her backpack, purposefully staying close to her chest where a gun is hidden inside her jacket.

"We have to go." Eben says, "We're in a loose window of opportunity here. Apparently people are looking for you, you've pissed off China White and her associates. People who do not leave any stone unturned when they want to find something." A look past her then back, "Bedrooms? Yeah, oh, yes, I have seen some gross things under these docks. You'll catch something down there for sure." The hand shake his quick and then he is turning around, realizing the bag is staying put, "Crew is waiting, as soon as you're ready we are out. We've got a little ways to bring you until we're in safe waters where /your/ people can pick you up."

"This baby is fast but we still can't outrun every bullet or missile they want to fire at us and White has just about every pirate, murderer, lunatic here under her thumb. Been a massive power play… sorry I should stop talking. Come on!"

Natasha finished the handshake after just a couple of quick pumps and then her hand was back down at her side and her eyes were staring up at the man while he spoke to her, telling her all of this… she peering out from beneath the brim of that black canvas hat she was wearing.

"Yes well, doing what I did tends to upset some people." She replied ia a dry tone of her husky voice. Her shaking-hand then motioned toward the boat. "Captain's first." She said toward him and she'd follow him toward it.

It wouldn't take the Black Widow long to crawl up onto the boat and once board it she'd start walking toward the aft of the main deck.

"I should lay low, if I'm spotted by any lookouts, we're probably in for a much more James Bondy-kind of escape out of this hell hole."

Nat was looking for a place o the boat she could get a little cover, but not… trap herself.

"Yeah, you trashed the Crystal." Eben says. It is accompanied with a chuckle.
"Oh, I am not the Captain. I'm just your resident tech nerd and mechanic." The man is spry enough or just very used to mounting and dismounting the boat, his climb is quick despite not being an Olympic level athlete. She'll also notice hes wearing flip flops. The surface of the boat is armored, metal and hot. Enough it is uncomfortable against flesh.

Once onboard he taps his knuckles on the forward window slit, its mirrored and cannot be seen in to.

A grumble then a spurting of water as blades turn, the boat venting water out sides and drifting outwards in towards the open sea.

"Yeah, you can get below deck in a sec, we're just trying to toss off a few sniffers. The last time we had to work for an American outfit we were not upgraded enough, this time we are ready… god I love new new tech, this stuff is Russian and Japanese retrofit, I mixed it, got some firmware from a buddy of mine who works at an Alchemax subsid, we're talking next tier."
As he is talking away so excited an opening appears on the deck, a satellite dish rising up and fanning out, starting a slow strobe. He drops to his knees and stares at it from a foot away, way too eager about what its doing.
It's turning.
Rotating left to right. Then back.

"Fuck yes!" He fist pumps in the air and down to his side, suddenly breaking out in to air guitar. "Reeree ree!"

Natasha watched the antics of the man as he boarded the boat and made about with his routine. "So if you're not the Captain, who is then?" She had to ask him while finding a place she could lean herself and put her hands out to grasp hold of something to brace herself for the departure. She'd ridden on enough boats to know that they could get pretty darn wobbly and bouncy if you didn't grab on and secure yourself.

Nat's eyes went to the satellite dish when it fanned its way out and she eyed it suspiciously and then looked to him when he started to do… air guitar? One red eyebrow raised up over her left eye and Natasha stared at the man.

"Are you sure you're the ride I was meant to get today?" She asked him. "Generally… my pickups are people who're a lot less… extravagant?" She wasn't sure if that was the right word or not.

The air guitar ceases when the word extravagant leaves her mouth. Eben rubs the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed but then grins, "We're pro. We know these waters better than most people know the alphabet." Popping up from his knees unmindful of the rock and weave the ship is taking on in it's slow coast out in to deeper tides, behind the central rise theres a pair of doors he throws open, a short stairwell leading inside to a wooded interior, refurbished for comfort but still an old world piece of war.

"You can meet the captain now, I just wanted to make sure everything was ship-shape."

"Watch your head." He advises, maybe he is joking about her height. She will have fine clearance inside.

Natasha gave the man an unconvinced, but somewhat friendly, half-smirk and then when he opened the door into the boat she accepted the invitation and walked past him giving him an "Uh-huh." when he told her to watch her head, because she got the 'short joke' she'd heard them for a very long time…

Once inside the lower part of the boat, the super short spy looked around at the interior, her right hand came up and she took her hat off of her head and then ran her other hand through her red hair… eyes taking in everything within the room… Natasha slowly turned around and sank it all in. She expected the captain to be a face she'd probably recognize, another SHIELD member hopefully.

There is dim artificial lighting but the portholes offer more and enough to see the light rubber padding upon the flooring, wooden panel, a drop lower gives people under 6'0" at least some headway, anyone over that is scraping scalp. This is the lounge, a small chair, a sofa built in to one wall, another opposite it. Cramped. Very but quaint. A laptop sits open on the table itself, music coming out of the speakers.

From the front of the boat the hallway darkens and a tall man is hunched there, squinting in through the dim after staring out the front to give Natasha a look, hes bald, tan skinned and possibly Arabic, a sash with a curved blade in his belt, fatigue pants, combat boots and a tanktop, "Hello, Agent. Please, make yourself comfortable as we depart. I will see to it you get to your destination safely."

"Thats our Captain Harun, not a man for a lot of words but he gets things done." Eben explains.

The Captain turns after a slow appraisal of Natasha disappearing back in to the cockpit.

"We're getting pinged again, they really want your ass." Eben clears his throat, "I mean you, they want you dead. You've got everything lit up on the switchboards."

Natasha was obviously the shortest of the group here inside the ship, she was used to that even when she had some tall boots on… She gave the captain a light nod. "Its appreciated." She said before he disappeared into the cockpit.

Her eyes went to one of the benches built into the bulkheads of the vessel. She sat down on the edge of it and took her bag off her shoulders now to lean it against her side. "Seems like a cheery fellow." She dryly commented bout the Captain.

Nat's eyes went back over and up to Eben. "Yeah well, they're bad people… so they can learn to live without my ass." She said back to him, leaning back on the bench and crossing her legs at the knee.

Nat's green eyes just stared at Eben cause he was the only person for her to stare at, interrogate with her eyes.

Eben nods, "Always cheery." The laptop is tapped at the top, "Feel free to use it or load your own up if you have one. We have a mobile hotspot that is secured, runs us warmer but we have pretty nice coolant system rigged up." He is talking slow, calculated, picking the words. Like he is dumbing down.
Shes staring at him and hes not looking back at her, he actually blushes a little and reaches up to keep his shades over his eyes. "So, yeah, there you go… Agent."

A noise, it sounds far away at first and then it repeats, a 'bmfoosh', another and they're getting louder.

"Shit. We're under attack. So much for getting comfortable… " Eben is scrambling on knees, along the sofa to peer out a porthole.

"Pirates. Lots and lots of pirates."

Natasha hadn't planned on using the laptop either way, she'd planned to just sit here until they reached their destination or she passed out… which was rare… she had an alarming ability to stay awake and mannequin-like stillness when she wanted to.

When he went to the porthole and declared pirates though she just sighed and shook her head. "Figures."

She stood up and went to one of the little viewports herself. "Can't this thing go faster than them?" She asked. "Do you have any deck weaponry? Smoke screens? Anything?"

She looked over toward the cockpit to see if the Captain was going to show himself with this revelation of piracy on their tails.

The boat rocks jolting in the waves side to side, wobbling as they skip hop and jump in a fast escape, Captain Huran speaking in fast Arabic, cursing and yelling.

"Outrun them, yeah, once we get up enough speed but maneuverability ends up shot, we're too close to a lot of traffic to do that safely… I guess safe is kind of gone. The Cap does the driving though." Turning around he ducks past, going towards the back, "Weapons you ask? Of course. We have four Mark 8 torpedoes just waiting for use, the tubes are above though and so… " He disappears, a metal sounds and some shuffling around, then hes dragging out a large machine gun, its heavy for him, he is straining as veins stick out in his neck, "Automatic twin 12.7mm. Pod mounts are above." He huffs and starts to squeeze it upwards, pushing it through that earlier door they walked through, its a moment, it looks like hes going to burst a vessel then she hears it slide along the top deck, clinking in place against railing. Then hes turning around, hefting up an ammo canister.

"Hop up there and grab this for me willya?"

Natasha braced herself as the ship wobbled and bobbed in the sea, she muttered under her breath and listened to Eben explain their situation. "Fantastic." She announced while he took the gun to the upper deck. Natasha threw off her leather jacket and dropped it on the bench she rooted around inside her backpack and attached her bracers to her wrists and then put her utility belt around her waist… her twin pistols were dangling from a torso harness that was wrapped around her shoulders, the grips of her guns pressed up against the sides of her ribs.

The wanted Spy spun around and bounded up the stairs, appearing on the deck she rushed toward Eben to help him with the mounted gun. "I can shoot this, you get the torpedo ready!" She shouted at him, the wind rushing her red hair about her head!

"You can? Of course you can. You're a SHIELD badass type Bond girl." Eben grins wide and teeters. It is very bright on the top deck, sunny, warm breeze, wind battering at them as the PT boat is making a beeline away from a motley collection of pursuing ships, some large, others small, several of them closing in.

There is a lurch to the side as an explosion geysers sea mist and splash across the top deck, all across port to starboard, showering Eben and Natasha in salt water. The source? A helicopter.

"I suggest you shoot that down first… " Eben is yelling as he races to the stern, sliding on his knees to start securing one of the launcher tubes in place.

Seven ships and a helicopter. Yeah, Natasha is definitely being hunted.

"Bond girls were simpering useless arm candy!" Natasha spat back at the man helping her in this endeavor. She was priming the gun and getting it set when he shouted about the helicopter.

The geyser of water cascaded down over their deck and it made Natasha lower her and let the water splash over her, drenching her in her black clothing and wetting her hair down around her head.

She looked back up and right at the helicopter as it was circling them now and lining up for another shot.

The giant machine gun was raised by Nat's gripping hands and aimed… "James Bond wishes he was me." She quipped before squeezing the triggers, resulting in a earing thumping and body pounding reverberation of explosive heavy gunfire streaking through the sky with its tracer rounds sizzling their way up toward the heliobird!

"I dunno Xenia Onatopp was pretty badass… I mean those thighs of death!" Eben says loud, "I guess she was a badguy though o o shit!" He ducks down as an RPG skims low flies just near Natasha's upper body and then off in to the water behind them, launched free of that circling chopper.
Eben is lying on his face splayed out clutching to the PT boat's surface as legs sway left and right with the trail the Captain is zig-zagging in, the best evasive options this thing has. Sprawled along the starboard quarter at least hes not in the direct line of fire that the boats pursuing them are issuing, some of it very close, pockmarking the water in tiny sprayspurts.

Natasha's cut of .50 cal rounds in rapid, violent hammering cuts through the air, sweeping after the helicopter to punch it with metal 'pangs' of impact, one after another until smoke spits outwards, a whirring up and down wobble before its ascending and trying to outdistance her counter-fire.

Still upon his belly and looking at her Eben is just watching the redhead, clutching that machine gun rocking back and forth covered in ocean spray, "Yes he does.. " He whispers before his hand slams down and he bangs three times. Slamming his palm down hard enough on the ships topdeck to cause bruising.

Immediately the torpedo drops in to the water and skits off, racing under the surface waves to slam violently in to the lead ship, a fast pursue boat, armed at the nose with a machine gun, its brief, its existence, the men on it's screams and then it vaporizes in a wash of fire and ocean.

The barely avoided rocket propelled grenade was a harrowing moment, to be sure… but the Agent couldn't dwell on that! She had the chopper in her sights and she was trailing after it with her heavy machine gun. When she scored enough hits on it to cause smoke to start to pour out of its hull she felt a rush of success, but she knew her job wasn't over yet…

Eben's shouts and commentary were heard, but ignored for now as she tracked after the fleeing helicopter trying to get altitude over her to get out of her firing cone… She was ready for that though and… in truth she'd been hoping to get the chopper to stop moving horizontally and instead, aim its nose at her and move vertically.

As crazy as it seems, Natasha stops using the .50 calibur gun and instead reaches for her holster to pull out one of her handguns. With the chopper moving upward now she can more easily aim down the barrel of her gun and snap off two quick shots right for the front window of the Metal Bird, right for the face of the pilot!

Eben is already working on the second torpedo to be fired off. It's whumpf of being armed and dropped heard as another larger ship with a heavy motor gets thumped in to, it blasts front of it, causing it to bow and crack in half, people on it's topdeck soaring through fire and wreckage.

That helicopters uplift and ascent is about to veer left when Natasha's shot splits the forward window open, maybe a little off on her aim but thats only to account for the distance and thickness of the window, not his face, not his chin even but dead center of his neck. Blood immediately closing around the hole and the whirly bird does exactly that, his dying jerk to the side has it spiraling off wildly, circling around and around.

"NICE SHOT!" Eben shouts, then drops again, the five other ships are closer now, one of them a gunboat, a central one, the largest a flat platform loaded with machine guns and mini-turret shields, men on it opening fire on the PT boat theyre upon, a song follows, dents begin to appear and the noise is a new high, loud hammers of all kinds, it's a regular hellfire orchestra, a bulletstorm.

Natasha's handgun was put back into her holster before the Helicopter ever started to whirl out of control. She didn't need to see it to know that it was going to happen either, so her eyes were pulled away and her head spun around to their pursuers… The .50 cal machine gun swept over and aimed down at the most threatening of the vessels, the gunboat. She opened fire on it next, more heavy rounds of machine gun fire laying down hot death upon that boat.

"I want you to know that I am completely unhappy with the outcome of this extraction mission so far!" Natasha shouted back at Eben between aims and fires!

Things could be worse though, right? Somehow?

"Make sure to send an email! We do take reviews very seriously." Eben yells a response, "Captain, I hope you have a plan!" He yells down in to the open hatchway, unable to reach the torpedos on the opposite side without being riddled with holes. The gunboat like the on they are on retaliates with fire of it's own, it is not as well armored as the PT she is on, the shots shes firing ripping chunks out of it.

"Ignore the big two in the back! They're slow, we can outrun them. Just worry about that gunboat and those other two… if we take them out we should be in the clear." Eben slithers forward and shoves his upper body in the hatch, letting himself just fall so he can get her more ammo. Yes, she will be out soon. RPM! It's fast.

To Be Continued…

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