Cranberry syrup or the mission in Russia! - Part 3

Finally, we settle down in the salon of a quite spacious car and set off towards our destination. As the talkative girl driver had said, the journey to the bunker takes almost three hours. It's not the most pleasant trip of my life. Before Larisa, with Natasha's help, figured out how to turn on the heating in this car, we managed to freeze quite a bit, and then we breathed in a lot of gasoline fumes. If even the colonels in Russia have to travel in such equipment, then I'm not surprised that Romanoff ultimately ended up on our side. Of course, on a Quinjet we could have arrived much faster, but the car was needed to deceive the guard. No, we could have taken control of the entrance by force, but... it's still a damn bomb shelter, able to withstand a direct hit of several kilotons in the TNT equivalent... deceiving the guard is the best option.

By the time we reach the destination, I already regret not running the distance on my own two feet. I'm sure I would have gotten there faster than the rest. At least I wouldn't have had to breathe in gasoline, even regeneration doesn't save me from this terrible smell, I'm about to get sick!

"We've arrived," Natasha's voice sounds like music to my ears, "let's gather."

The last sentence, I think, was mainly directed at me.

"Just let me out of this wheeled prison and I'll be fine," I reply.

Around a dozen soldiers are bustling around the massive gates of the bomb shelter - the outer guard post, on the sides are piles of dirty snow and pieces of broken ice, disturbed by their presence. In the distance, you can also see snow shovels, discarded for no longer being needed.

"Maybe I don't understand something," whispers Darya, looking at the warning sign on the side of the road, "but shouldn't the approach to a bomb shelter be so heavily guarded?"

Romanoff grumpily glances at the young spy, but nonetheless deigns to answer:

"All this security here is very recent, the minefield is dug up, some of the equipment is not yet installed, and the guard routes and schedule are not optimal."

"Do you think the bunker was abandoned until recently?" I ask, although the answer is obvious, only the traces of excavations carried out at the gates are enough to understand that they were recently covered in snowdrifts.

"If not, then there was not this amount of security. Something has made them more active. On the bright side, because of the stagnation, systems, including security, probably do not work at full capacity."

"Well, that's in our favor," I agree.

If the bunker has been abandoned for a long time and only recently remembered... is this somehow related to the active actions of the S.I.E.L.D.? Information has somehow leaked out? However, Fury could not have missed this.

"We'll find out why Hydra needs to thaw out this base," Natasha cuts in.

We come to a stop in front of a frail looking barrier that has recently appeared, as evidenced by the piles of frozen earth and rocks at the base of the posts.

A tired guard in a rustling, frosty coat and a funny hat with ears leans towards the driver's window, asking something in Russian. I can't make out the words because she started speaking into the closed window, but the meaning is clear.

Without wasting any time, Natasha herself, with truly general-like arrogance, drives over the girl who held us up:

To do this, she had to open the passenger window, using the rotating handle... she looked quite comical while doing this - furiously spinning the lever to release her anger - next time, she will think twice about whether the effort required to yell out of a window is worth it.

"Can't you see who's coming, soldier?" Natasha mimics the voice of Karpova, outraged.

"No, comrade colonel." The woman stretches out in a standing position, respectfully, "According to the regulations, comrade colonel..."

"The regulations!? I'll show you the regulations!? You'll be in the latrine scrubbing the toilets!"

"Permission to speak, comrade Colonel! Senior Sergeant Sivenko, head of guard," another girl appeared from the crudely assembled guardhouse, with a slightly different form - with a more familiar winter Soviet hat-cap, leather belt, and overall looking tidier than her colleagues.

"What the hell is going on here!?" Natasha screamed at the new victim.

"My fault, comrade Colonel. You see, she's new and doesn't know anything yet."

"Well, teach her then, if she doesn't know! Sitting there, drinking tea, instead of instructing the soldiers!" Romanoff still sounded angry, but clearly less so.

"My fault, comrade Colonel, I left for a moment, to hand over the duty, you know, everything needs to be personally checked."

"Her fault... her fault," Romanoff grumbled, clearly losing interest in the soldier.

"Stand up, raise the barrier!" Senior sentry commanded, turning to her subordinate.

Further progress goes smoothly. Leaving Larisa in the car, the three of us descended into the bunker without incident. First, Romanoff, like an icebreaker paving the way, then Daria, representing the reticent guard, and at the end of me, catching the surprised glances of Russian soldiers.