13

Chapter 13Summary:

Yelena finds herself a good samaritan.

Notes:

ястреб = hawk

Chapter Text

All three men nodded vigorously, clearly afraid of the pre-pubescent girl. All of them eyeing the man laying, moaning, on the floor of the empty warehouse.

"Good." She smiled and watched them wince. 'Getting closer, сестра." 'Please be there, ястреб.'She thought to herself.

~~~

August 24th 1999

Yelena stepped out of the cramped little bus, ignoring the relieved looks of the idiot who'd been the driver. Ever since he'd watched his friend attack her and she'd beaten the man into a bloody and broken mess, he'd flinched every time she moved.

She picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder and began to walk away. The man sighed and stepped up beside her.

"Get gone." She said. "I don't want to see you, ever again. Clear?"

The man nodded and vanished back onto the bus, the engine starting and the bus moving off, faster than was safe, but he was gone.

"Belem… ugh…" She muttered.

Twenty-four hours later, she looked at the table in front of her and groaned.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with a horse?" She glared at the men seated around her.

"You wager it, of course." Said the only man wearing a suit, he was also the only man to speak English.

"Against what? None of you have put anything decent on the table." She complained.

"You are not a local." The suit said. "Where did you come from and where are you trying to get to?"

She studied the man closely, he had dark blonde hair and warm brown eyes. She got a sense of curiosity from him, but nothing else. He was either a fantastic actor or he was genuinely curious. And as the Red Room had little to no presence in Brazil, she guessed it was curiosity and not a cover.

"Ohio, via Rio. My… brother… is in Washington."

"Brother?" The suit replied. "You don't sound too sure of that."

"I'm not. My sister calls him her brother, she's all but adopted him, but I've only met him once."

"And where is your sister, that you go to him and not to her? And what of your parents?"

"I'm not exactly sure, but she's somewhere in Europe. Our parents are dead." Or as near to it, at this point in time, that it makes little difference.

"Ah." The suit grunted. "And America is easier to get to, than Europe. Especially for a child alone."

"Yes." Was all she said.

"You are quite… mature… for such a young child." He tilted his head in thought.

"Spent the last few years around adults, no children." She replied, blandly.

"Ha." He snorted out a single laugh. "Very well, little adult, I can get you to Mexico City and put you in contact with someone that might be able to get you across the border."

"I don't need help for the border, itself." She shook her head. "Just to get to it."

"Really?" He blinked.

"Really." She nodded.

"Huh…" He blinked a few more times. "Very well. I have business in Paramaribo, Caracas, Baranquilla, Panama City, San Jose, Mexico City and Monterrey. All very illegal and rather dangerous, but you, little adult, may just be the difference between success and failure."

"You want me to be your bodyguard?" She said flatly.

"No, my daughter." He corrected. "Like you, I am looking to leave South America, but my daughter is ill, not seriously, but I cannot put off these meetings any longer, waiting for her to recover. New identities have been created for my Cecilia and I but the man who organised them, is insisting on meeting us both. I trust him, to a point, but Cecilia is ill and he will not wait."

"Oh." Yelena blinked.

"It is his thanks for my service and saving his wife's life, you understand?" The suit said.

"A genuine retirement?"

"Yes, he has assisted in selling everything we have in Sao Luis and in purchasing a home in Texas. He even found me a job in one of his American businesses, a legal one. Cecilia is close to your size, even though I would say she is older than you, she is small due to ill health. And America has better medical care than Brazil."

"Does this man not know what your daughter looks like?"

"No, he has never met her and until now, has actively avoided any chance of meeting her."

"Where is she?"

"Right now?"

"Yes."

"My… Someone I trust has taken her to Mexico City." The suit answered. "They left before I was told that my… employer, shall we call him… wanted to meet her. I do not want to put her through the return journey, again. It was hard enough on her the first time."

"And if I do not accept your… offer? What will you do?"

"Tell him that she is already in Mexico City and request that he meet us there." He replied. "It will cost me, probably the job in San Antonio." He shrugged. "Cecilia's health is more important to me, than his temper tantrums."

Yelena snorted. "How long do you see this taking? How many days?"

"I have business meetings in Caracas, Barranquilla and Panama City, as well as Monterrey." He ignored the restlessness of the other four card-players and continued to speak. "I am to meet my… employer in San Jose in nine days. The 2nd of September. After meeting with him for the afternoon, I will be staying in San Jose for the night, before flying to Mexico City the next morning. I have two days with Cecilia before another business meeting in Monterrey, I return to Mexico City and Cecilia on the 6th. We fly to San Antonio on the 7th."

"Fourteen days? Including today."

"Yes. If you travel to Monterrey with me, if not then you will be free to leave in Mexico City on the 3rd." He answered.

"I want to see photos of her. I want to speak to her. And if you have video of her, that would be very helpful. Plus some of her clothes, or clothes exactly the same as hers."

"This I can do." He nodded.

"Finish the game and we can sort out the details." She pushed forward the picture of the horse. "Unless your daughter would like a pony?"

"No, thank you but no." The suit shook his head and placed his own bets, a stunning piece of raw emerald and a small gold ingot.

The other players' eyes lit up and the game was suddenly interesting.

"Gods above, child…" The suit muttered. "You… you scalped them… for everything they had…"

"So?" Yelena counted her money and the titles to the yachts… and the house. "Can you help me get rid of these?"

"Get rid of them?"

"What use are yachts to me? Or a house in Fortaleza?" She grumbled.

"Huh…" The man nodded slowly. "I will contact my employer and ask. I will say that you won them."

"If you can get him to exchange them for US cash, to be picked up in San Antonio, I'll give you half. You can set up a trust for Cecilia, for college." She offered.

"You would do that?" Hi blinked in surprise.

"Call it payment for getting me to the border." She shrugged. "Tell him you want it in cash that you can deposit over time, that way he won't realise that you don't have it all."

"What else is there beside the yachts and the house?" He asked.

"All up?" Flicked through the pieces of paper. "Two yachts, one house, one speedboat, one racehorse… that is doing quite well, it seems… three cars, one plane, two pounds of gold, seventeen emeralds, three diamonds, two rubies, six sapphires, four necklaces, three pairs of earrings, six rings, five watches, three guns, two knives, a knuckleduster, a laptop, three cameras, two mobile phones, 11000 real (Brazil currency), 51000 peso, 30000 US Dollars, 15000 British pounds, 26000 euro … and a partridge in a pair tree…" She sang the last item, causing the man to laugh.

"That's quite a collection." He nodded, impressed. "What do you plan to keep?"

"I will keep the gold, gems, jewellery, the laptop, the knives and one handgun. The rest is of no use to me. I want it all converted to US Dollars." She tilted her head. "You said he helped you buy a house in San Antonio?"

"Yes?"

"Then you will have him send it all there. All the cash. You will give me the address and I will meet you there."

"Agreed." He reached for his mobile phone and pressed a few buttons. Yelena wondered when smart-phones would begin to appear, flip-phones were so cumbersome.

It took an hour for Yelena to submerge herself into the identity of Cecilia Maria Oliveira-Santos. In that hour the man in the suit became Ricardo Oliveira-Silva and it seemed that he was very good at bargaining, either that or his employer genuinely cared about him and his daughter. Or both.

The cash was converted and the employer took nothing from it, earning them a little over $75,000 US. The cars, boats and plane, got them a shocking $110,000 US. But it was the house and the horse that turned out to be the most expensive items, earning them more than $1.5 million. The guns and other incidentals were barely exchanged for pocket change, a mere $150, in comparison.

"1.6 million dollars…" Ricardo whispered. And that was after his employer took a 5% commission.

"That's not bad." Yelena nodded.

"Not bad?!" Ricardo squawked.

"Well, yeah…" She replied, absently. She was scribbling out a table in a notebook. Directions for transferring the money to travel debit-cards. "This will have to be done in America." She sighed. "What's the chance that your employer can do this? If I provide the information, can he get it changed?"

"I am dealing predominantly with his second-in-command, who was told to do whatever I asked." Ricardo countered.

"Excellent." Yelena nodded and tore off a page. "Rewrite this and give it to him. Once I meet you in San Antonio, we can hash out who gets how much. These will make it much easier to carry, $1.6 million in cash is bound to be a little bulky. I don't want to carry it and neither do you."

"No, customs would not approve." Ricardo agreed.

~~~

August 26th 1999.

"Rather dangerous… well, you did warn me." Yelena snorted.

"I didn't expect it to be this dangerous." Ricardo replied from his hiding place behind an engine.

"I'm going to need more ammunition soon." She said, picking off an assailant and ejecting a spent magazine from her pistol. "Can you see any more of them?"

"Why are you asking me? You're the one with the gun!" Ricardo looked at her as though she were crazy.

"You're taller." She replied tartly, as she inserted a full magazine. "Look over the engine."

"Oh." He grunted and risked a quick look over the top of the engine. "Ah, three? And possibly someone in the car."

"I can deal that." She huffed and sprinted from cover, to behind a car. The three men came into view, all of them discarding her as unimportant. Mistake. Big mistake.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

All three men fell and the car door opened. A man stepped out and Yelena wasted no time in pumping four bullets into him, all non-lethal shots, she wanted answers and he was going to provide them. Whether he wanted to or not. His eyes widened and he slid to his knees, by which time Yelena was standing right in front of him, with a knife at his throat.

"Start talking, before I remove your head." She snarled.

The man blinked at her. "Widow?" He stammered. "We didn't know he was involved with a Widow."

"He's not with me, I'm with him… Until I change my mind." Yelena countered.

"Oh, shit…" The man whispered.

"Can I expect more attempts on him before I leave?"

"Yes."

"Can you stop them? By telling someone of my involvement?"

"Yes." The man nodded. "We want nothing to do with the Widows."

"Then get your phone out and call whoever you need to, but remember that Widows are fluent in many languages. Watch what you say."

"Si." He nodded and slowly opened his jacket, wincing as it pulled on his wounded arm. He retrieved a simple flip-phone and opened it, pressed a few buttons and lifted it so that Yelena could hear what was said. "Sir? It's Georgio. We have a problem."

"Fix it." Yelena heard someone say. "That's what you're paid for."

"No, sir, not this time. Widows are involved." There was silence from the other end of the line. "The Widow says that she is with Oliveira-Silva, until she decides to leave him."

"How many dead?" The voice asked.

"All of them."

"And you?"

"Non-fatal, so far."

"So far…" The voice sighed.

"Yes, sir."

"If she'll let you go, leave. I will alert the other teams to stand down."

"Yes, sir." The driver said.

"Oliveira-Silva is leaving South America. By the 10th, he'll be gone, not to return." Yelena cut in. "How you deal with his replacement is your concern, but Oliveira-Silva is not to be touched. Your driver is free to go."

"We shall deal with it as we have to." The voice said. "Thank you for sparing my nephew's life."

"The only reason I did so, was because he was unarmed." She warned.

"I will remember your mercy." The voice replied and the call cut out.

"Thank you." Georgio said.

"None of your wounds are fatal, but blood-loss could be an issue, get back in the car, try not to be too energetic, that will make you bleed faster." Yelena warned. "Go to where you will get treatment."

"Yes, ma'am." Georgio waited until she stepped back before he attempted to stand. Once on his feet, he took the single step needed to reach the car's open, driver's door. He slid into the driver's seat and started the car, he nodded to her and the car began to move.

Watching until the car was well way, Yelena went over each dead body and retrieved each gun, knife and wallet.

"That is gruesome, child." Ricardo said with distaste on his face. "Must you?"

"Yes, I must." Yelena replied. "I used up almost all my ammunition protecting you. Between what I have left and what remains in their guns, I should be able to replace what I need." She ejected magazines and checked them for bullets, some had them and some didn't. "This is good. I will be able to refill my magazines and have a spare for… ooh is that a Stark gun? Oh, I'm keeping that." She pulled the gun from the ankle-holster of a body and checked it over. "Oh, that's nice…"

"Nice, she says." Ricardo muttered. "It's a bloody gun."

"Yes, it is." She gave him a flat look. "And Stark makes some of the best guns ever put out. I'm keeping it and the Colt. I might struggle using the Stark, just yet, but guns don't go off, if you don't use them. It can wait for me to grow into it." She spent a couple of minutes rearranging bullet placements before tucking the guns back into her backpack. "Right I'm done here. What about you? Anything else to do in Paramaribo?"

"Huh?" Ricardo watched the girl stand up and go from looking like an assassin to looking like his twelve-year-old daughter. "Oh, right. Yes, I'm done here. Marco signed everything before they appeared. He even left me copies of the contracts, when he took off."

"Excellent. What's next?"

"We go to the airport." Ricardo said. "There's a private plane waiting for us. There should be a car and driver at Caracas, to take us to a hotel. My next meeting is tomorrow morning, in the hotel."

"Good, let's go." Yelena lead him back to their car, which had surprisingly been ignored by the attackers and was unscathed.

~~~

August 28th 1999.

"No more gambling for you, young lady." Ricardo sighed. "Two big wins is enough. My employer is not going to believe that you won at a third meet."

"I suppose not." Yelena nodded and sighed.

"What did you get this time?" Ricardo leant forward in interest.

"Two cars, a motorbike that's older than Methuselah, three watches, four diamonds, a canary and $820 US dollars." She grinned. "Oh and the contact details for a son of one of them, who is in college in the US, I'll look at that later."

"Why would they give you their son's details?"

"The son was on speaker-phone and his father was handling his money. The son, Marco, is studying to be a chef and he wagered a number of meals and a future favour." Yelena laughed.

"Meals are more useful than a canary." Ricardo laughed.

"Actually, I thought I might give it to Cecilia as a welcome to America present."

"How do you expect to get it across the border?"

"Let me worry about that."

"I think it is a good thing that we are leaving Caracas in the morning." Ricardo sighed. "Eva-Maria is not going to believe this."

~~~

August 30th 1999.

"God fucking damn it." Yelena swore. "That was my favourite knife, asshole." As she spoke, she hit the man in the face, using the hilt of the now-broken knife as a blunt instrument to bludgeon him with.

"If you're quite finished, child?" The voice came from behind her and she spun in place.

She saw a panicked Ricardo being held between two thugs, while their boss stood a few feet to their right.

"Fuck this shit." She spat and pulled the Stark gun from a pocket, firing in the same motion. The boss went down like a puppet that's strings had been cut. Two more shots and both thugs were on the ground. She turned to the man who had broken her knife and put a bullet in his head before walking over to Ricardo. "Get up." She nudged him with a toe. "We're not staying here."

It took half an hour for Ricardo to be coherent again. He looked around in surprise.

"Where are we?"

"A park about a mile from the airport." She answered.

"What happened to them? The men in the factory?"

"What do you think happened to them?" She snarled. "One of them broke my knife."

"Ah…" He was learning that knives were important to her.

"Do you know how hard it is to find a well-balanced knife that will fit a child-sized hand?"

"I'm guessing… quite difficult?"

"Yes."

"I'm also guessing that you don't want to stay in Barranquilla tonight." It was not a question.

"And give these idiots another chance at you?" Yelena looked at him flatly.

"Then it is good that I checked us out of our hotel, before we headed to the factory, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Call your boss and get the plane rescheduled."

"I think that's a good idea." Ricardo pulled out his phone.