Chapter Text
"She's right 'ere. Yep... got 'er all tied her down. Ain't no way she's gettin' out. Sexy lil thing..." Razzy's shadow stretched across the filthy floor as he stood at the doorway, deliberately talking loud enough on the phone for her to hear.
If only he knew the world of pain he was about to walk into.
The woman suppressed a smirk, shifting just enough to stretch her duct-taped hands a little. The rusty iron chair creaked as she did that, making the man hang up before carelessly tossing the phone on the bed in the corner of the room. He stood before her with a toothy smile baring his tobacco-stained teeth. God they were so yellow. He really needed to stop smoking.
"What's up bitch? Not runnin' yer mouth now are ya?" he taunted her as his rough hands grabbed her chin, tilting her chair backward and holding it in place. Her feet dangled in the air, but she held his gaze, bored more than anything. As if that was going to scare her.
He's an idiot. Plain old idiot. Does he really think that he has the upper hand? she thought, letting him think that he was the one calling the shots for just a few more minutes. She had thoroughly enjoyed this little game, but poor Razzy didn't know that he'd snatched the wrong girl entirely- a girl who'd spent three days making sure that she was captured.
"Say somethin', go on... don't ya miss yer dad?" As he leaned down, the stink of stale cigarettes and last night's beer hit her square in the face. Disgusting.
"Jesus Razzy, ever heard of toothpaste?" she taunted, wiping the smug smile off the asshole's face. Without warning, he pushed into her, kissing her with so much force that she almost fell backward.
“What’s up, sweetheart?" he sneered as he pulled back. "Not so high and mighty now, 'uh?”
She gave him her iciest glare. “You think this scares me?” She let out a dry laugh. “I’ve met house cats with more guts than you."
The man was confused as he stood there for a second, his tiny brain struggling to catch up. How was this woman, who had been in his captivity for the past three days without food or even a drop of water, still not afraid of him?
The woman chuckled as she tilted her chair back on the floor herself, as if it was a game for her. She hadn't lost even an ounce of the fight that was in her after being starved for three days.
"Why do you still have me here Razzy? Aren't you bored of me? Dad did give you all the money didn't he?" she asked, making the man scratch his head in confusion. How was he supposed to scare her?
"Shut up bitch. You're gonna die as soon as the boss gets 'ere." The man let go of her, taking a seat on the old iron bed to her left.
She really wanted to tell him just how wrong he was. How she’d orchestrated every second of this farce, swapping herself in for the senator’s precious daughter and even making sure that spoiled kid had snacks and a bed while she did all the hard work by taking her place. She was here for one thing—the jewels, and the 30 million dollar ransom. A stash she’d spent months tracking down. One short beer-bellied man wasn't going to stand in her way.
"What Razzy? Cat got your tongue?" she gave him her sweetest smile and the man was up and in front of her again, looking crazy enough to actually kill. She could see it- the exact moment he snapped. Oh how she loved toying with them, testing their boundaries. It gave her a thrill like no other.
“Fucking bitch,” he snarled, grabbing her throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off her laugh. She barely felt it, barely registered his fingers on her skin. In her mind, she was already out of the chair, one step away from making this fool pay.
“Think yer real funny, don’t ya?” He spat the words, and she just gave him a steady, unblinking stare, waiting for him to get close enough.
To be honest, she had grown a little tired of the charade.
With a whisper of shadow pooling around her wrists, she twisted. The already weakened tape that held her there split down the middle and she brought her fist up in a single motion, smashing into his nose with a satisfying crack. "It's showtime, asshole."
Razzy's eyes went wide as he staggered back, clutching his bleeding face.
“God, you’re pathetic,” she muttered, pulling her hands out of the remaining tape, the shadows dissipating around her fingers like smoke. She barely had the time to stand before Razzy lunged again, but she was ready. Her hidden knife slid from her sleeve into her hand, and she slashed across his cheek, watching him stumble back, yelping in pain.
"Here's a tip" she said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper as she kicked him square in the nuts, sending him crashing to the floor, sobbing like a baby. "Next time you kidnap someone, do your fucking research."
He tried reaching toward her, a pathetic, shaky movement, but she ignored it, crossing to the cabinet in the corner. One good yank and the doors opened, revealing the duffel bag stuffed with cash and a velvet pouch of jewels. Finally.
“Thanks for the haul, Razzy. I'll miss you” She waved her hand, shadows curling around her feet as she disappeared into the darkness, her laughter the only thing trailing behind. “Toodles!”
Nick Fury had seen a lot of things in his lifetime. Aliens, Gods, supersoldiers and goddamn wormholes threatening to swallow earth whole. But this? This was a first.
He hit replay on the security footage for the fiftieth time, watching as the grainy video looped back to the beginning. A sleek black high-end car pulled up in front of a high-rise building and out stepped a figure all in black, holding the passenger door open with almost an air of lazy nonchalance. Out the door came the senator’s daughter, looking shaken but otherwise unharmed, her eyes wide with disbelief.
The figure leaned in and gave her a small nod and then- Fury squinted, trying to spot anything unusual, but the two shared a fist bump. A goddamn fist bump. What kidnapper did that?
The girl staggered off towards the glass doors, glancing over her shoulder with a small wave as she disappeared into the building, as if she was saying goodbye to a boyfriend who dropped her off. And then the figure got back in the car, merging into the night traffic, as if dropping off high-profile hostages was just another Tuesday night.
Fury took another swig of his scotch as he replayed it again, pausing at one point where the figure was facing the street, wearing a hood and a mask. He could see a few blurred pixels of the skin on his face, but nothing else. With those baggy clothes, he could be anyone. Was he actually supposed to start investigating the girl's list of ex-boyfriends?
A state senator's daughter kidnapped 4 days ago, with the kidnappers asking for a ransom amount of 30 million dollars and ancestral jewels. She had been returned, absolutely safe and sound, along with the ransom money. But the rocks were missing. Why would someone take jewels worth only two million and let go of thirty?
It was all too neat, too perfectly executed. The kind of move that didn’t happen by accident. And as he watched the masked figure on the screen, he couldn't help but get the feeling that he knew who was behind this.
His cellphone suddenly buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. "Carter Reed?" he muttered, checking the caller ID. What would one of the wealthiest men in the country possibly want at this hour?
"Fury!" his voice crackled, panicked and shrill. "I need your team Fury! It's gone! It's gone!"
His eyebrow arched in confusion as he set his glass aside. "Carter, I need you to calm down and tell me clearly. What's gone?"
"My mother's necklace! The pink diamond one! It's stolen- gone! Gone!" Carter's voice hitched in pure desperation. "I need the Avengers now!"
Fury sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. What did all these rich people think of themselves? "The Avengers aren't your personal search party, Reed. It's the middle of the night. Just go to bed. You'll have cops at your house in a few hours. And calm down for fuck's sake- it's just a damn necklace," he snapped at the man before hanging up. He really had to stop giving away his personal number to everyone.
He settled back in his plush chair, taking the glass in his hands as he leaned back, closing his eyes. Two robberies in a week, both victims were ultra-rich. The returned ransom money.
That level of guts, the smoothness, the precision, the sheer audacity. No one had even seen anything. Could it be... If he knew her as well as he thought, she was probably somewhere out there right now, sipping a cocktail at a high-end bar, laughing her ass off.
Suddenly, it all clicked. He knew exactly who was behind all of it.