Olga's reply was half-snort half-laugh as she packed the binoculars back into her utility belt, nodding in agreement at Yelena's statement. The organisation they worked for tended to have good intelligence, which reassured Olga that they could indeed execute the mission successfully.
"You can try, I will succeed." She grinned, getting up from her prone position to stand in a half crouch. "Shall we proceed?" Keeping low she headed into the nearby undergrowth, moving stealthily through it down the hillside that led toward the facility's perimeter fence. This far out there were unlikely to be motion sensors, but birds taking off might attract attention, but that didn't stop her murmuring over her shoulder.
"Are you keeping up Yelka after all those doughnuts?"
Of course Olga had no doubts in Yelena whatsoever, there was nothing her teacher couldn't handle in her opinion, but that didn't mean that the younger Widow didn't intend to surpass Yelena someday, (if only in cockiness) and was happy to say it. However, as the perimeter fence neared she slowed her pace, partly out of caution and partly so as to let the more experienced Widow take the lead.
They slid down the hill they’d used as a vantage point, now skirting through the undergrowth, advancing closer to the building. Their heavy-duty tactical clothing held up against the dirt and loose rocks and occasional sharp branch trying to catch on their uniforms as they went down, and Yelena eventually stopped her descent with a boot against a tree trunk. “Don’t say ‘hop’ before you jump,” she murmured to the other woman with a half-smile; the Russian equivalent of don’t count your chickens before they hatch.
And it was strange, being the older Widow for once. Yelena had been the baby for so long — child assassin, child prodigy, the Black Widow’s younger sister, a reputation she hadn’t been able to shake even back at the Red Room — that stepping into the role of mentor and teacher still felt a bit like she was wearing someone else’s mask and hoping no one caught on. Slipping into her sister’s shoes and walking a mile, or two, or ten.
She wondered what Nat would have thought of it.
The blonde peered up at the side of the building, then shook off her hands and took a running jump towards the drainpipe, starting to scale it up towards the second-storey window they’d pinpointed as an entrance. The pipe made an ominous creak; it really hadn’t been built to carry the weight of a whole person, let alone an adult human, even if she was very short.
Hm. Maybe she did need to lay off the American snacks.
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Olga's reply was half-snort half-laugh as she packed the binoculars back into her utility belt, nodding in agreement at Yelena's statement. The organisation they worked for tended to have good intelligence, which reassured Olga that they could indeed execute the mission successfully.
"You can try, I will succeed." She grinned, getting up from her prone position to stand in a half crouch. "Shall we proceed?" Keeping low she headed into the nearby undergrowth, moving stealthily through it down the hillside that led toward the facility's perimeter fence. This far out there were unlikely to be motion sensors, but birds taking off might attract attention, but that didn't stop her murmuring over her shoulder.
"Are you keeping up Yelka after all those doughnuts?"
Of course Olga had no doubts in Yelena whatsoever, there was nothing her teacher couldn't handle in her opinion, but that didn't mean that the younger Widow didn't intend to surpass Yelena someday, (if only in cockiness) and was happy to say it. However, as the perimeter fence neared she slowed her pace, partly out of caution and partly so as to let the more experienced Widow take the lead.
no subject
And it was strange, being the older Widow for once. Yelena had been the baby for so long — child assassin, child prodigy, the Black Widow’s younger sister, a reputation she hadn’t been able to shake even back at the Red Room — that stepping into the role of mentor and teacher still felt a bit like she was wearing someone else’s mask and hoping no one caught on. Slipping into her sister’s shoes and walking a mile, or two, or ten.
She wondered what Nat would have thought of it.
The blonde peered up at the side of the building, then shook off her hands and took a running jump towards the drainpipe, starting to scale it up towards the second-storey window they’d pinpointed as an entrance. The pipe made an ominous creak; it really hadn’t been built to carry the weight of a whole person, let alone an adult human, even if she was very short.
Hm. Maybe she did need to lay off the American snacks.