The voice—it rose in him a pang of familiarity. Not that he cared much for it, but rather, he knew it. He could pick that voice from a crowd because he’d heard it before. He’d heard that voice go from the squeak of a child to what it was now.
“Ah, I’ve heard it was a small world but didn’t believe it until now.” He turned, relinquishing his grip on his gun. “Natalia. The bright and shining star, how we’ve missed our little traitor.” He spotted her, red locks a dead giveaway if he had any question of he identity before. “They say that dogs always do find their way home.”
He grinned, the actions just shy of deadly. “Put down your weapon…you look foolish.”
Natasha mouth went dry, she couldn’t put a name to him, but she knew that face and voice, knew that it came from Red Room. Her memory was too blurred to know for sure who he was. It didn’t matter as she heard him speak.
“I’m not Natalia,” she spat. “I killed her a long time ago.” She tightened her hand on her gun, having no intention of lowering it. “Why should I put it down?” She felt her chest tighten, wishing she’d agreed to backup. She wasn’t going back to Red Room. One way or another she wasn’t going to become their puppet once more.