BW:F Chapter 22

Nat looks on as the big doors open, revealing a woman in a black and green, sleeveless catsuit not so different from Nat’s SHIELD combat suit. Nat likes to think that hers is a little more flattering, but this woman wears hers well. Her dark green lipstick catches the light as she enters the room, and her glossy black hair falls in generous waves around her shoulders.

This is the woman that Nat fought at the farmhouse. She must be the leader of that field team that they tangled with; that would explain why those soldiers fought so hard to extract her.

“Here for a rematch?” Nat asks. Her voice echoes in this large room.

“No,” the woman replies, pausing at a console and tapping a few keys. She’s Hungarian, going by her accent. There’s some faint scarring on the right side of her face. “You don’t know me?”

“I can’t remember every C-list terrorist in Central Europe,” Nat replies.

The woman frowns and looks at Jen. She lifts a finger, gloved in green.

“Did she have that before?”

“Have what?”

“The…” The woman’s cheeks turn pink. “Penis.”

“Of course she did. What are you, blind? I guess not. You keep staring at mine.”

“A functional penis on a biological female with no testicles is a scientific curiosity,” the woman replies, gaining some composure.

“You’re a scientist?”

“Of a sort. You may call me Viper.”

“How’s it going with Blonsky?”

“No questions.” Viper unhooks a whip from her belt and walks over to stand in front of Nat. She shifts her weight to one shapely hip and smirks.

“A whip? Sweetheart, I don’t get out of bed for anything less than waterboarding,” Nat says disdainfully.

“I’m not going to **** you. You don’t matter. I don’t need you.” Viper sniffs and glances at Jen. “She is another matter.”

“Then can you just kill me already? I’m getting cold.”

“I will kill you,” Viper says with a nod. “But not until I have done two things.” She shows Nat the whip. “First I will whip your fat ass.”

Nat is taken aback, affronted, and a little hurt. Viper is the second woman to throw that at her in less than twenty-four hours.

“You’re insulting me for not having an eating disorder?” she asks.

“Then,” Viper goes on, unbothered, “I will take what you have that might have value. Then I will kill you and proceed with my work. Do you understand?”

“Pretty straightforward,” Nat admits.

Viper looks directly at Nat’s groin. She glances up at Nat’s face, then reaches out with the coiled whip and gently lifts Nat’s soft cock.

“Very peculiar,” she says, with none of the previous theatricality.

Nat sighs. “I know,” she says, frustrated.