Her breath hitched in the back of her throat as she spied the museum guards loading crates into the unmarked van. To the untrained eye little would seem amiss, just museum employees going about their day job, if it weren't for the fact that it was 3AM on a Sunday morning in February. Natasha suppressed an involuntary shiver, partly from the flood of adrenaline that came from crime fighting, partly from the biting winter air that once again called into question the practicality of her crime fighting outfit.
The biting chill snaked its way up her stocking clad legs and tickled the bare skin of her thighs, her skirt offering no protection in terms of warmth, even her chest felt numb against the relentless cold, despite her impossible strength and nigh on invulnerability. She felt the cold as keenly as she had in the days before her body had blossomed into the femme fatale crime fighter that now stood hidden around the corner from suspected criminal activity. She exhaled a a steady cloud of stream and crouched low, moving from the cover of one parked car to another as she closed across the street on the museums rear loading door, effortlessly evading the plodding employees as they loaded more boxes into the unmarked van.
In truth the young heroine could have powered her way through the workmen with little effort, her petite 5"4 frame (5"8 in her choice of heeled boots) belied her supernatural strength, however ploughing through innocent civilians would most certainly alert the mastermind of this heist to her presence not to mention the collateral damage and broken bones such a dust up might lead to. No, stealth was the best way in this instance. Adrenaline flowed freely through her veins as she slipped silently through the darkened museum on the hunt for her prey, senses wired to the slightest of sounds, nerves stretched taught over a familiar war of emotions between the thrill of hunting and the fear of unfamiliar danger lurking around every corner.
She stopped dead and pressed her back hard against the wall as voices from the next exhibit room interrupted the museums oppressive silence.
"Now professor lets go over it one more time shall we?" the first voice, male, an English accent that Natasha placed more from movies that from first hand experience
"I will inform the curator the paintings have been taken for restoration, they will be returned by courier on Thursday, when your associates arrive with the forgeries, I will authenticate the paintings and rehang them" the second voice was feminine, local to Silver City if Natasha had to guess by the accent, her voice seemed oddly flat, calm and focused yet distant at the same time. A few moments of silence punctuated with the noise of fingertips tapping on a phone screen
She strained her hearing for any other hint of activity, but found nothing but stubborn silence for her efforts, she leaned in close and peered around the corner, trying to keep as much of her body as possible concealed around the corner. A quick glance around the room confirmed the source of the two voices, both figures face away from her hiding spot, one looked masculine, standing around 6 feet and wearing a dark coat, the other a smaller frame in a grey suit, short blonde hair illuminated by the light from a digital screen throwing both figures into sharp shadows. The man seemed to be operating a mobile device, his fingers tapping away at the screen while the woman stood immobile save for the occasional deep inhale and exhale of breath.
After a few more moments, the man spoke again "Very good Professor, according to the CCTV your employees have almost finished loading..." the man stopped mid sentence with a sharp intake of breath "Well, well, that is unfortunate". Natasha felt her stomach plummet with growing certainty as she looked up at the Museums camera's, most criminals disabled them as a matter of course before a heist, but whoever this was had been using them to monitor his own operation. She had paid so much attention to evading the human security, she hadn't considered the close circuit cameras that this villain had evidentially linked to his smartphone.
"You can come out now dear, no need to stand on ceremony, I know how you heroic types like to make an entrance" He chuckled
Shame and humiliation burned her cheeks to make a rookie move and give over the element of surprise in one fell swoop, she rolled her shoulders, preparing for a fight and gave her best sweep around the corner, raising her fists and glaring in the direction of...
The pair still had their backs to her, Natasha thought she heard the man mutter something and pass something to the woman before they both turned to face her. The light in the room was still minimal at best but the man still appeared to be wearing some kind of darkened eyewear which he adjusted as he turned with a friendly smile, he seemed fairly nonchalant for a criminal caught mid heist. The woman was a different story, despite the placid smile on her face, her skin glistened with sweat, her blouse was open to her midriff and both breasts had slipped free of her bra most alarmingly however she held a boxcutter knife in her left hand which slowly inexorably moved to her own throat.
Natasha froze, suddenly unsure of how to proceed, the woman was obviously a hostage and obviously in danger but Natasha had no way to disarm her without putting her in even more risk, her gaze shifted from hostage to kidnapper as the man's smiled widened
"That's right dear, now what will you do if the young lady doesn't comply with my orders?"
"Slice my throat, sir" the dishevelled blonde answered placidly, her voice perfectly even as the skin of her throat bobbed against the boxcutter blade, turning an angry red.
"Good girl" the man stroked his hand through the hostages ruined blonde hair affectionately, the blonde purred and shivered drawing a tiny rivulet of blood from her neck. The man turned his gaze to Natasha
