ostavil | open post

It's probably because of her age but Nikolai thinks that Natalia comes easier than any other woman he's ever heard about or known himself. He grins at her, satisfied, and withdraws his hand.

"You come so easily," he murmurs. "It's perfect to see your face when you come for me. Did you know that? Did you know how pretty you are when you're coming for me?"

He's still teasing her, even if it's with words and not his fingers.

She was still shivering lightly, but her cheeks flushed deep crimson when she heard him speak. "No," she told him, a little tartly, her face still buried in the crook of his neck, "of course I didn't. I haven't ever...I mean, you know. --never before now."

It was a little unnerving to just talk about these things, even if her skirt was still hiked up around her waist, her panties were soaked and slick, and her heart was still galloping a mile a minute from an orgasm she'd never even imagined she could have had.

But that didn't stop her from purring beneath her lover's ear, lifting her head to take his mouth again in a sensual kiss far beyond her years, stroking her tongue between his lips to taste him fully and deep. "...I'm yours, Nikolai," Natalia murmured when she managed to put a little air between them. "...now, forever, and always, malyshka..."

"I know," Nikolai says. He shifts a little under her, trying to get relief himself, and wonders how exactly he's going to manage to get full relief from anything inside of this damned car. He'd rather be back in the house where she could spread him out on her bed but he guesses the sedan is just going to have to do.

"You're so pretty when you're like this," he says lowly. "Perfect, too. I don't know how I've kept my hands off you as long as I have. When I finally fuck you, you'll be so desperate for it that you'll scream my name."

He thinks he's going to be the desperate one, actually, but this is about working her up and not about him.

She started to say something in return, but before she could there came the tell-tale sound of breaking glass, then the car suddenly lurched to one side, throwing the princess across the seat with a high yelp. The sedan's speed increased as if something heavy landed on the accelerator, then the car abruptly slammed into something hard and solid, sending the occupants tumbling.

Even though she'd managed to latch hold of Nikolai beforehand, Natalia nevertheless had her head knocked against the door handle, leaving her bleeding and woozy. Before the car even came to a complete stop, amid shouts, screams, and other noises, the back doors were yanked open and dark figures reached in, snatching both the Imperial Princess and her bodyguard, dragging them from the wrecked vehicle and out into the street.

Though she was dazed, Russia's scion had nevertheless been raised by the Winter Soldier himself, and she put up an impressive fight with her assailants, leaving two unmoving on the asphalt, another with a broken face, and yet another groaning on the ground, but another black-clad figure appeared to replace those she incapacitated until she was finally successfully restrained.

Her last conscious sight was of Nikolai, wrestled to the ground beside the ruined car by five burly black-garbed goons, and a pistol aimed directly at his chest. Three shots rang out; Natalia screamed in pain, fury, and terror; then all went white as she felt something hard strike the back of her head, and the world fell away into nothingness.

This is not a situation Nikolai had planned to be in. Why on Earth would anyone want to attempt to kidnap the Imperial Princess, knowing he is at her side? The pistol at his chest isn't really a deterrent; he can heal fast enough that only a head wound would be truly fatal.

He feels the shots hit him but he wears kevlar on top of being damn near indestructible and while it's difficult to fight off five men, he's managed to do it.

They have him, though, because the printessa is unconscious and she can't do anything to help herself. He snarls at them.

"What do you want? Money? You know we'll pay."

The streets were filling with onlookers, more than a few holding up phones to view the carnage. Natalia hung limp between two of the assailants, and one of them strode forward and aimed a taser right at the former Winter Soldier, hitting Nikolai directly in the neck. Ten thousand volts crackled into his large body, and as he hit his knees, his attacker pulled off his hood, revealing Vasily Karpov's face.

"Money is good," he rasped in guttural Russian, staring hard down at his former creation. "But revenge, better." He kicked Nikolai in the chest with a steel-toed boot, adding to the electricity coursing through the former's veins. "Tell your master: one for another. He takes something of mine, I take something of his. Only fair." A shout, a warning, and Karpov dropped the taser, adding in a snarl, "I will do to her what I did to you, Soldier. You will see."

Then they faded into the crowd, bearing with them the limp, unconscious body of Russia's Imperial Princess.

Nikolai knows he has to get her back. Revenge. Who do they want revenge on? Him? He is over half a century old. Who would have a vendetta against him? Besides, they hadn't made a goddamned demand. How can he even work to get her back if he doesn't have a demand?

He didn't even get a good look at where they took her when it dawns on him. He knew the face. He knew the face. It's goddamn Karpov and it's HYDRA who has her. Is the vendetta against him or the Tsar? These are questions he's going to have to stab at when he undertakes the op to get her back.

The perimeter is already on foot and investigating and Nikolai resets his arm after the shock made it hang limp and useless along his side. He pulls out his phone to inform the Tsar not only of Ivan's death but Natalia's kidnapping and asks for leave to investigate. It's immediately granted. He pulls aside one of the other security detail, Kuznetsov, and asks if he saw anything.

"Northeast. They went northeast. That's all I know, Nikolai."

Northeast led them to the city's marina, where overly excited civilians were all too eager to provide information about the speedboat that ran out to sea not fifteen minutes after the attack, and the harbor patrol reported an unauthorized seaplane drifting just offshore, which took off without filing a flight plan or reporting a transponder number.

Not a scant hour later, the Tsar of Russia was on video-conference with his daughter's security detail, and gazed through the screen at Nikolai, his green eyes hard but also filled with worry for his only child.

"Nikolai," Alexander commanded when the other man's visage filled his own screen. "Tell me what you know. Every last detail. Leave nothing out."

"It was coordinated. They...we didn't come directly from the church back to the compound. We went to a cafe and nothing seemed amiss and then we were riding around. The Grand Duchess wanted to sight-see."

The lie comes easily. He's done this kind of work before and he can do it again. The last thing the Tsar needs to worry about is what he and Natalia had been doing in the backseat before she got attacked and kidnapped.

"I've tracked them to the marina and it looks like they took a boat and then took off via seaplane from the water. No flight plan registered, as you can imagine. Tapped into the government systems to have them watch for unauthorized aircraft but I imagine they didn't fly far away. We might have to wait for contact before I can track them further but I'm going to do my damndest, sir."

Alexander looked down, unable to stymie his sorrow and worry any longer. When he lifted his eyes to the video again, they were glassy, sad. "Thank you, Nikolai. I know you will do all you can. But I must allow Federal Security into this investigation, regardless of my opinion on the matter. They will be arriving early tomorrow morning. And will expect full cooperation."

The Tsar took a deep, shaky breath. "In the meanwhile, I will of course keep you informed if I receive any word, any contact. We must have her back, my friend. We simply must." He couldn't swallow a small sob. "--she is...my child." Alexander passed a hand across his face, endeavoring to smooth it to blankness once again. "I have not told her mother. Honestly...I don't know if I can."

Nikolai doesn't like working with anyone but even he has to admit that the FSB has to be involved in this. The Tsar is heartbroken and he wants to ease it. He wants to bring his daughter back to him not only for his sake but for Nikolai's own. If he'd only been paying more attention, she might not have been taken.

"Tell her. You have to tell her. I'll bring her back. This is what I was made for, your Excellency. I was created for this. If I cannot bring her back, I've failed her."

When he disconnects the call, he starts working on finding them. He thinks they would have gone to a close HYDRA base and stayed out of Russia, considering the FSB. There's a base in the Alps, Italian, and he thinks that's where he'll head.

Federal Security arrived earlier than expected, and confined everyone in the Princess's entourage to the compound. Including her personal bodyguard. Chief Officer Leonid Petrov knew Nikolai was furious, but he still had his job to do, and everyone was a suspect, just now.

"...and you noticed nothing out of the ordinary during service or at the cafe, just prior to the incident?" he queried, blowing smoke from his own cigarette as he gazed at the man in the other chair. "No incidentals that might have slipped your mind, or your attention?"

"Are you honestly going to question me? I'm the Winter Soldier," Nikolai spits, looking at Petrov. This is ridiculous. He should be out looking for Natalia and not sitting in a chair staring at a man he could bend in half.

"No, nothing out of order. I was there with the Greek kid's security too. They saw nothing. Nothing happened until after we were already in the car and the glass in the windows is tinted. I couldn't have seen anything if I wanted to. It's the point of that car - people can't see in either."

A knock, then an underling peered around the door frame, face ashen and pale. "Pardon the interruption," he said, "but there's been...a development."

A 'development" in the form of a highly encrypted video transfer, real-time, of Grand Duchess Natalya Alexandrova Romanova strapped to a medical table, head lolling but clearly alive, along with a disembodied voice somewhere off-camera, stating that the video was 'proof of life', and that the princess wouldn't be harmed in any way as long as demands were met.

First and foremost - funds to be transferred to a secure account within twelve hours; second - all research and materials seized from a particular base in Siberia be brought to an as yet unspecified location; and third - the cessation of all efforts to track, find, locate, and or uncover the Grand Duchess's location, as any attempt to 'rescue' the princess would render all agreements null and void, therefore forfeiting Natalia's life entirely.

"You have two hours," the deep voice instructed. "I will call again to hear your answer." Then the connection severed, the screen going black.

Nikolai recognizes the set up of the room. It's similar to the ones they used to put him under while he was still the Winter Soldier and he knows there's only a few places where those bases even existed. He knows there's one in the Alps, which would be closest to Malta, but the demand had asked for materials from the Siberian base.

"They are trying to trick us," he says, looking at Petrov. "There's two bases and she's at one and they want something at the other. I don't think it's likely that they'd have her in Siberia with the paperwork but...they could. They could think we'd think just like this. It's best to go to both bases. You'll need big firepower without me so you go to Siberia since you have to get the materials they want. I'll sneak into the Italian base alone. We'll be in communication, da?"

Naturally, the Tsar had been frantic. Alexander had been ready to board a plane and fly south the instant the communication ended, but wiser heads prevailed and encouraged him to remain at the Winter Palace, while his investigators and finest hands handled everything. Despite having a successful career in espionage and intelligence while his father had ruled, Natlia's father knew his counselors spoke the truth, and reluctantly agreed, but once more begged Nikolai over a private line to find his little girl and bring her home safely.

After the analysts had finished with the transmission, scrubbing everything they could from it, Petrov read over the notes and agreed with Nikolai's reasoning. "Says there that the signal was sent from somewhere in Western Europe, could be Italy, but the boffins couldn't get any closer than that. But if you're certain this is HYDRA, well...let's just say that I hope you're wrong, comrade."

"I am certain it is HYDRA. I recognized who took her," Nikolai says. "And I know how to fight them better than anyone else. I was in their keeping for half a century. The Tsar destroyed the book so I don't think it's the risk it could have been in the past - I don't think they can control me. I still think the bigger group of us should go to Siberia. That base had others like me. I could go to the other base alone."

Nikolai doesn't want to let them slip through his fingers, not when they have his Natalia. He taps out a cigarette and lights it, not caring that Petrov is in front of him.

"I can do this. I swear I can."

The Chief Officer, grudgingly, agreed, but he had to admit that Nikolai was probably right. They'd been blind, to have missed this, but at least the Tsar's daughter was still alive - for now - and hindsight was better than no sight at all. He gave the Winter Soldier leave to go, and gathered the rest of his men to make for Siberia, as soon as possible.

HYDRA's former base in Kreischberg, Austria resembled little more than a ruined shell. The entrance was blocked by fallen columns and ice, but the core generator still worked; emergency lights still gleamed, here and there. The interior was dark, cold, but very little dust had settled, and the patina over the metal surfaces had been disturbed here and there.

One of the chambers deep in the facility still hummed with electrical life, and papers scattered the desk. Used 'instruments' lay on steel trays, copper wire and tubing coiled discarded in a corner. Every now and again, a ghostly moan echoed through the hallways, but it might have also been the wind, signing forlorn at the memories of the horrors practiced here.

This place holds awful memories for Nikolai, twisted memories that are the only ones he ever tries to forget. He starts on a systematic search of the base, gridding it out, and it takes him nearly a day to get to where Natalia is actually being held.

There's a cruel irony that they're holding her in the very place he'd been tortured so often and that her tiny body has undergone things that he'd been able to withstand because of his enhancements and he knows had affected her more. He goes to her side and tenderly touches her face, not wanting to press against any hurts.

"Natalia? Will you wake for me? For Nikolai?"

They'd left her strapped to a familiar medical table, kept alive by intravenous IV's providing hydration as well as a powerful sedative, which kept her on the the cusp of consciousness, and her lashes only fluttered when she dimly heard a voice echoing in the steel room. Her head lolled, tangled curls flattened against her forehead, and when her eyes finally opened, they were dulled, unfocused.

She tried to move, but couldn't; tried to scream, but wasn't able. All she could do was moan in never-ending pain, not even recognizing the achingly familiar face that swam in her hazy vision, the icy chemicals freezing her from the inside out. The temperature in the facility was the same indoors as it was outside, and she'd been stripped of her former clothing; only a paper-thin surgical gown covered her bare skin.

"I'm going to take you with me, all right? I'll keep you warm." Nikolai strips off the heavy sweater he'd worn to infiltrate the base and tenderly tugs it over Natalia, mindful of the IVs and where her skin is torn. He unhooks her (but leaves the ports in for now) and pulls her close to him into his arms where he can keep her warmer still. He has a Humvee not far from this base but there's a matter of getting to it.

"We're going to move, da? Just hold onto me if you can," he murmurs. He's almost afraid to touch her, weak as she is, but the thready pulse at her wrist tells him that he's not too late. He's not too late.

Once he gets her into the Humvee, he lays her gently in the back, making sure she won't pitch and roll as he drives and that she's firmly covered by blankets.

"I've got something better for you," he says, hanging a bag of fluids that'll bring her awake instead of keeping her drugged. "Bumpy ride but you're with me. Nothing will happen with me."

She couldn't stop shivering. And had little to no control over her limbs; once unstrapped from the table, Natalia sagged, and would have collapsed entirely if not for strong arms catching her and holding her close. She dimly felt warmth nearby, and tried to turn to it, curling in as much of a ball as she could, heedless of the pinches in her flesh from the needle ports.

Then she was moving, carried...somewhere, but the stench of the facility was no longer prominent in her nose. A familiar smell soothed her, and she tried to grope for it, but had not the energy to clutch tight. But she did cry out in pain when she was deposited on a different surface, the vehicle's seat nearly as hard as the table. She felt another rush of something in her veins, and it made her moan, weak and shallow.

She felt so tired...; it would be too easy just to slip away and sleep, forever.

Nikolai wants to crawl into the backseat with her but he can't, not until he's in relative safety. There's a room in a hostel he's rented down off the mountain and he manages to sneak her into the backdoor without much incident. He needs her in a hospital, yes, but he wants to stay off the radar until he knows it's safe to be in the open.

Once he has Natalia ensconced in the bed, he strips the sweater from her and strips his own clothes so he can press up against her. He still has her hooked up to saline and electrolytes to try and perk her up but holding her back to front isn't going to pull at anything, he doesn't think.

"I have you, printsessa. I'm going to get you warm, all right?"

Still shivering, Natalia instinctively wrapped her feeble arms around the arm that materialized around her waist, clutching as tight as she possibly could. There was a heavy warmth now at her back, and she burrowed backwards into it, soothed by that achingly familiar scent. The voice, too, was familiar, like a dream she could see but not yet reach.

It hit her half an hour later, when she suddenly gasped a quick breath and blinked her eyes open, seeing not bare steel walls, but faded wallpaper and a closed wooden door. "...Nikolai...?" Yes, had to be. No one else in all the world carried that distinctive scent; pine, snow, cinnamon.

Tears began to fill her eyes, and she sniffled back a choked sob. But tightened her grip on his arm, snug around her, holding her close. "...moya zvezda...Nikki..." Relief so great washed through her, leaving her limp once again. He had come for her. She was finally safe.

"Thank God, I thought I lost you," Nikolai says, holding her as tight as he dares. He doesn't want to hurt her but hearing her say his name and seem lucid makes him happier than anything has ever made him. She's going to make it. She's alive. He kisses the crown of her head and just holds her close for warmth.

"We're in Austria, printsessa, but I have you now. You're safe with me and no one can hurt you. As soon as I'm sure we're safe to be in the open, I'll let you speak to your father and we'll go home, all right? I just need to keep you with me right now until I'm sure we're safe."

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