Infiltration

The cold night air wrapped around Natasha as she crouched on the edge of the facility’s metallic rooftop, her high-tech Black Widow suit hugging her body like a second skin. The building loomed below her—a fortress of steel and neon, pulsating with the eerie hum of advanced technology.

She exhaled softly, her breath barely a whisper in the darkness. ****’s facility was heavily fortified, but she had slipped into far worse places before.

"Alright, Nat... time to work."

She leaped off the rooftop like a shadow, flipping mid-air, her curvaceous form twisting effortlessly as she landed silently on a narrow maintenance platform just outside an air vent.

With practiced ease, she unscrewed the vent cover and slithered inside, her tight, leather-clad body gliding through the confined space with feline grace. The metal was freezing against her skin, but she pressed forward.

Inside the Facility

Dropping from the vent, she landed in a dimly lit corridor—empty, except for the faint hum of distant machinery. Her keen eyes scanned the surroundings.

Security cameras. Infrared tripwires. Motion detectors. All of it child’s play.

She moved like a ghost, slipping past security, pressing herself against the wall every time a patrol passed. The mission demanded stealth—and she was the best.

Then, she saw her target.

A janitor. Middle-aged, unassuming, wearing a loose gray uniform and pushing a cleaning cart. Perfect.

The Ambush

Natasha sprung from the shadows, one smooth motion wrapping her leather-clad thighs around his neck.

“Wh—!?”

He barely had time to react before she twisted, flipping them both down. His head hit the floor with a dull thud, and he went limp.

She straddled him briefly, making sure he was out cold, then rolled off, smirking.

“Nothing personal, sweetheart.”

With a quick glance around, she peeled off her high-tech suit, revealing her smooth, flawless skin for a brief moment before she grabbed the janitor’s uniform.

It was baggy. Ugly. Not exactly her style. But it would do.

She stuffed the Black Widow suit into a small capsule, then aimed carefully—throwing it through a narrow vent slot leading outside. It landed near the facility’s perimeter wall, where she could retrieve it later.

No loose ends.

She turned back to the **** janitor.

“Sorry, buddy. Can’t have you waking up and ruining my fun.”

With a swift lift, she hoisted his body onto her shoulder, moving through a back exit. A dark, rushing river lay beyond the facility—perfect.

She tossed him in.

The cold water swallowed him instantly, dragging him downstream, far away from the facility. He’d wake up eventually—soaking wet, confused, and very far from here.

Natasha smirked. Flawless execution.

Adjusting her stolen uniform, she stepped back into the hallway.

Now the real mission began.