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space-mermaid-writing · 1 year

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Faded Black Ink [IronStrange] - Chapter 16

Relationship: Doctor!Stephen Strange x Mafia!Tony Stark

Tags: Mafia AU, Angst, Romance, Idiots in love

Ko-fi | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's note: Where's Tony?

Chapter 16: Norway

Stephen looked out the window of the private jet, seeing almost nothing beside the dark night. There was just a faint stripe of light at the horizon. It was certainly not his first time flying, so him being nervous had nothing to do with him being on a plane.

It had been three weeks since Peter had shown up at his house and asked him about Tony. Three long weeks in which they hadn't heard a word from Tony or his kidnappers. In which they hadn't found out anything. It was as if Tony had vanished from thin air.

The only comfort was that no body had turned up. It was a small comfort and the uncertainty was almost worse.

Peter visited him a lot in these three weeks. The first time he had sat outside Stephen's apartment door – not the front entrance of the building complex. Stephen just took one look at him, before he told him to move his ass inside. They had ordered pizza and watched a movie. Since then the boy had appeared at least twice a week for a movie and food. He talked about his college plans and Stephen told him stories about his time at the university. They never talked about Tony.

Until two days ago.

Pepper had called him and told him to come to her place. Rhodey and Peter were present – Stephen had expected that – but so were some other people from Tony's inner circle: Steve, Sam, Natasha and Clint. Stephen was surprised but he trusted Pepper enough not to question it.

They had found out that Stane paid a cargo ship that left the same night as Tony's disappearance. It was via offshore bank accounts and he covered his tracks pretty well. But they were determined to find Tony and tracked down all the details. Everything pointed to human trafficking. Where to?

"Fredrikstad, Norway."

Stephen couldn't believe his ears. "Why the fuck Norway?"

"We don't know," Pepper admitted. "But there are big transshipment centers that go to east Europe. And lots of people get lost there."

"The problem is we have no influence in any of the Scandinavian countries," Rhodey added. "We can't just barge in there."

"Why not?" Stephen asked.

They explained to him in a few words, how family structures worked internationally. Since it involved Tony Stark, it was officially a family business and thus had to be done through official channels. Norway was foreign territory. If they operated there without asking, they would get into real trouble. So they needed to make an official request to one of the influential families. But even if they pleaded the importance of the case, it would take time, especially since it was a first contact. And that would mean they would miss the arrival of the container by a long shot.

Stephen's mind was racing, hearing all these hindering procedures. "Okay, I'm not an expert in these things. So if we had a contact on site, it would help us to get to Tony in time?"

"Correct."

"I need to make a call." With those words, he got up and left the room.

And that single call was the reason he was sitting in this private jet. Rhodey, who had been raiding the bar for snacks, sat down in the seat across from him – on the seat next to him, was Stephen's doctor's bag.

"I still can't believe you know the Odinsons. You're full of surprises, Doctor Strange."

"If it helps us getting Tony home."

The streak on the horizon had grown brighter. They were heading toward it, and so the sunrise was coming faster than usual. Stephen had thought about getting a drink or five to calm his nerves, but he wanted to keep his head clear for this. It was bad enough that this was an overnight flight and he was barely getting his eyes shut. Quite the opposite of Natasha, who accompanied them because she spoke the language, and who had stretched out across another row of seats further back. With two of those thin blankets that seem to be the same on all flights whether economy or private on her, she slept peacefully as if they were on their way to a vacation. Stephen envied that trait.

They landed in the early morning hours at what didn't look like an official airport near Fredrikstad. As they descended the steps from the plane – Natasha had woken up just minutes before and was now walking behind Stephen - they saw a dark car waiting for them. A woman with tanned skin and pulled back braids in a suit stood next to it. Stephen recognized her as one of the security guards of the Odinsons. Val, if he remembered correctly. She opened the car door and Thor Odinson himself stepped out. He closed the top button of his jacket and looked toward them, his expression serious.

"Welcome to Norway," he greeted the trio, "Good to see you again, Doctor Strange. Unfortunately under these circumstances."

"Seems like we're making a habit of circumstances." Stephen shook his hand. "These are James Rhodey and Natasha Romanoff."

"Thanks for helping us," Rhodey added politely, while Nat remained silent.

"Of course. The doctor called in a favor. Plus, I hope that we may talk about business in the future."

"Well, I can't make promises in Tony's name, but if we're successful today, it will be due to your help."

"Well said." Thor patted Rhodey on the shoulder, then directed them to get into the car. "I have arranged everything. We will drive to the port immediately."

The car was an SUV limousine, big enough that they could all sit in the back, while Val took the seat at the wheel. The doctor was wide awake now. He had a distant feeling of jet lag, but like during a long surgery, he pulled through.

Thor's cell phone rang and he answered it, exchanging a few words in Norwegian that probably only Nat understood otherwise. But since they were all sitting together in a confined space, she didn't translate. Besides, Thor himself told them the most important news himself: "We found the cargo ship. It is waiting for you."

"Do you have eyes on it?" Rhodey asked, and Thor nodded.

"My people are boarding as we speak."

And Tony, hopefully, too.

Under other circumstances, Stephen probably would have been admiring the scenery on the drive. The airfield where they had landed was outside the city and they passed beautiful forests and fields. But he couldn't concentrate on nature.

Fortunately, the drive didn't take long.

The port of Fredrikstad was bustling, but Val steered the car between the people and pallet transporters. Some of the dockworkers gave them nasty looks when they just happened to be in the way and Stephen was pretty sure that they were not allowed to drive here with the car. Val didn’t seem to care.

Even though the place was crowded, it wasn't hard to figure out which ship they were heading for. It was the only one in the whole port without any activity. Even though it was fully loaded with containers, there were no dock workers busily walking around on deck tending to the cargo or bringing the necessary paperwork and documentation on and off the ship.

There were three SUVs parked nearby that looked suspiciously similar to the one the Americans were sitting in. As they parked, a man walked down the plank and looked toward them, waitingly. He wore a coat over a Norwegian sweater and, with his blond-styled hair, he looked more like a fashion model than a dock worker. An MP strapped across his torso told that he was one of Thor’s men.

At the bottom end of the plank, he stopped and greeted the new arrivals with arms outstretched. "Welcome, friends from overseas." His gaze lingered on Natasha and he winked at her. The scowl he got back was usually enough to scare any man off, but this guy didn't seem to notice it.

"Did you run into any problems, Fandral?" Thor asked. Apparently he already knew his antics well enough and didn't think they were worth mentioning.

"Nei, everything went smoothly. The captain is waiting for you." With a broad grin, Fandral turned and led them to the ship.

Stephen fell a few steps back. Until Tony was found, there wasn't much he could do. He didn't speak the language - Nat was there for that - and left all negotiations and conversations to Rhodey, who acted as Tony's second in command.

The captain of the ship was - understandably - not overly happy about his crew being kept from their work. If he had anything to do with the kidnapping or knew about it, he showed no remorse. He argued loudly with Natasha and even Thor. Rhodey stood next to them, had the most important things translated and, when the cue came, pulled out the correct papers that identified him as the owner of the container they were searching for. They were fake but a pretty damn good one.

More words were exchanged, but the captain soon realized that the quickest way to regain control of his ship was to cooperate. And so he finally instructed his first mate, who was standing nearby, to take the foreign men to their damn container.

The mate took the papers from Rhodey and led them to the cargo.

A container ship was an impressive craft. Wider and more heavily built than any ship Stephen had ever set foot on - admittedly, it hadn't been many ships - it carried hundreds of containers that took up almost the entire surface of the deck. The large metal boxes were lined up and stacked on top of each other and could only be moved by cranes. It was a feat of engineering that this mass of metall managed to cross the Atlantic safely.

They were lucky: the container of their papers was in the lowest row, so it was one of the few that could actually be accessed without a crane. Some of its red paint was already peeling off, but otherwise it still made a very sturdy impression.

They had no key for it. For Thor, however, this posed no problem, as he instructed one of his men, "Volstagg." He snapped his fingers and a big guy stepped forward. Where the others had slung firearms across their bodies, he carried some sort of mobile metal circular saw. He slid a pair of sunglasses from his hair on his face and turned the device on. With loud, screeching noises and flying sparks, he easily cut through the center seam of the doors.

Rhodey helped to open them and was also the first to take a step inside, closely followed by Stephen.

The smell that hit them reminded the doctor of the night he had spent on the docks in New York. Before the FBI had arrested them all. It was the stench of people who hadn't showered in a long time.

"Tony?"

There was no answer. Someone flashed a light into the dark corners of the container. There was a wool blanket and remnants of canned food and water canisters. But otherwise the space was empty. Stephen's heart sank. They were at the right address, they had to be. But they were too late. Tony was no longer here. His gaze found Rhodey's, who returned it grimly.

They had been so close. Stephen could feel Tony's presence still lingering.

Thor started talking to the first mate and seemed to be pelting him with what sounded like questions. But the man merely pointed at the container and didn't seem to be much help.

"Now what?" the doctor asked Rhodey, for he had run out of ideas. Rhodey took another closer look around the container to see if anything indicated where Tony had disappeared to.

Suddenly they heard a shout and stepped back out into the daylight. Natasha came with long strides - Stephen hadn't even realized she had left – with a struggling ship's worker in tow. Val followed right behind them, a hand on her gun, making sure the guy didn't do anything stupid.

When Nat caught up to them, she shoved the ship's worker to Thor's feet. "He says a helicopter picked someone up from the ship last night."

Immediately, everyone perked up. Stephen was pretty sure that helicopter rides were very unusual on cargo ships.

The guy was still relatively young, maybe in his early twenties, at least the lack of beard growth gave that impression. He was clearly intimidated by the group that had so rudely taken over the ship, more so probably by their displayed weapons. He looked back and forth between Thor and Volstagg, the two largest men, and spoke very quickly. Fear resonated in his voice.

Nat stood between Rhodey and Stephen and quietly translated for them both.

"The ship anchored in the open waters last night. He heard a helicopter and looked and saw that someone had been picked up. It looked like a medical transport, but no one from the crew was missing. He noticed that and thought it was odd."

Thor asked the man a question, to which he responded after a moment's thought.

"The helicopter went north along the coast." Natasha looked to Thor, who knew the land best. "Where could they have been headed?"

Thor patted the young ship worker on the shoulder and said a few words to him. The man shook his head hesitantly. Shrugging his shoulders, Thor turned away from him. Only then did he answer Natasha. "There are many possibilities. If you're right and Stark is to be taken to Eastern Europe, my money is on a freight yard and a train route to the mainland. Ships and trucks are checked much more often, especially through Germany and Poland. The train routes are well connected and it's much easier to hide someone there."

"Where's the nearest freight yard in the north?" Rhodey asked.

"Oslo."

It was the only lead they had, and since the only alternative was to return home empty-handed, they took it. They weren't going to give up that quickly. Even if it was a shot in the dark.

If it really had been Tony who had been taken off the ship last night - and that seemed quite likely, because if there really were as many controls as Thor said, it was wise to get him off the ship before it reached port - then he had a head start of several hours. In that time, there were certainly dozens of trains coming in and out of the station. If it was even the right station they were headed for. If he was to be put on a train at all. That was a lot of whens and ifs. But it was all they had at the moment and so Stephen clung to it. In his mind he was with Tony, calling out to him that they were on their way to get him. He had to wait for them just a little longer.

At least, it seemed that the kidnappers were anxious to keep Tony alive, and that was worth something.

It took them an hour to reach Oslo and then another half an hour to arrive at the train station.

It was huge; bigger even than the port and also much more chaotic. There were dozens of parallel tracks, transshipment halls and customs buildings. And in between, cranes lifting pallets of goods or cars onto or off trains.

It would be impossible for the small group consisting of Rhodey, Stephen, Natasha, Thor and Val to search everything here on their own. But fortunately, the two locals knew how to handle the situation as well. They asked their way to the control center, where they bribed a supervisor who could tell them which freight trains would be in question between last night and today. And after slipping some money to the guy who was sitting at the surveillance, they were even allowed to go through the video recordings.

There were several hours of footage. It would take forever to look through it all, even with increased speed. But it was their only lead.

Since Thor couldn't do anything else for them and he had other business to tend to, he and Val said their goodbyes. He had already done more for them than was necessary for a simple favor anyway. Still, he promised them that no matter how the search went on, there would be a car waiting for them.

"Thank you so much for your help." Rhodey shook the Norwegian's hand in farewell. "We won't forget that."

"It was my pleasure. I hope to hear from Stark soon."

And wasn't that true for all of them.

Thor and Val left and the group turned back to the screens. They were allowed to use a workstation that was currently unoccupied. The persuasive skills of Nat and more money from Rhodey were convincing enough that they were left alone in the process.

Stephen had always been vocal about his opinion about bribing in the past, but at this moment he was very glad that some people didn't share his sentiment.

"I'm going to find us some coffee," he told them, because there was no way he would be functioning further without any caffeine in his system.

Rhodey just nodded, his eyes already glued to the screens. He didn't need to tell the doctor to hurry. Stephen knew himself that six eyes saw more than four.

He left the control room and headed back down the stairs to a lobby they had come through earlier. He hadn't paid much attention to it at the time, but he remembered seeing a kind of break room, which he was heading to now.

It was lunchtime and a lot of people were walking in the hallways. Some had a take-out bag in their hands, others were apparently changing shifts. Only a few paid attention to him, and if they did, it was usually only with a quick glance. Most people were simply minding their own business, and Stephen was glad of that.

He found the room without any trouble and actually discovered a vending machine that offered kaffe next to some tables and lockers. He didn't even need to know the local language to find the right buttons. And he could even pay with a card.

Stephen drew three cups of coffee, which he took back to Rhodey and Natasha.

They divided the video footage among three screens and each reviewed one. The videos were switching between different cameras. Stephen was sure that not the entire train station was being monitored, but only the areas where goods were stored or trains were loaded. He watched a sequence of forklifts loading pallets from a rack into a train wagon. Then a crane lifted heavy metal parts onto a train.

Surely dozens of trains were being handled every hour. And with the head start the hijackers had.…

"I've got something!" Nat suddenly exclaimed. She rewound and replayed the last few minutes she had watched. According to the time, it had been in the early morning hours, when the lanterns had already gone out, but the sun wasn't shining that brightly yet. Probably around the time they had landed with the jet. The video wasn't very good. Still, it clearly showed a small group of people hoisting a suspiciously human-shaped package into a wagon.

Rhodey called over the supervisor who had helped them earlier. "Where is this train going?" he asked him. Natasha had to repeat the question again in Norwegian before the man properly understood what they wanted. He looked at the recording and then flipped through a folder with his lips pinched together. It seemed like the man was not a fan of human trafficking right under his nose.

Impatiently, they waited for him to find the right page. Whatever he found there, he typed into a computer, and a small message appeared.

"The train is going to Beldgrad, Serbia, via Berlin," Nat translated the supervisor's words.

"We need the exact route," Rhodey urged them. Perhaps they could catch up with the train at its next stop. No one knew for sure if Tony was to arrive at the final destination or if he would be taken off before. The sooner they reached the train, the better. The different countries they had to travel through could pose a problem. But this close to the finish line, Rhodey wasn't about to give up. He was willing to take advantage of any contact he had in Europe if it meant they found Tony. "Ask him about departure, stopovers, arrival time..."

"It hasn't departed yet," Nat suddenly interrupted him on the supervisor's next words, running for the door. "It's due in twelve minutes. Platform 318."

Stephen grabbed his doctor's bag and ran after her and Rhodey. "Delay the departure!" he was shouting to the supervisor, but he wasn't sure the man understood him well enough or even had the authority to do so. They had to hurry.

They ran like crazy, not caring about the looks they were getting. Again and again workers had to jump out of their way and became unfriendly. Stephen recognized curses even in an foreign language when they were directed at him. His gaze was fixed on Natasha, who seemed to know the way. Though he was fit, he soon found it hard to keep up with her. She jumped down steps and over boxes as if she were an athlete on the course. His only consolation was that while Rhodey was also faster than him, he was nowhere near as nimble and agile as Nat.

Running across the tracks, Natasha led them to a train that had to be it. It had many wagons of different types. The engine was already running and two workers were standing next to it, looking wary at the approaching trio. Nat stopped at them and spoke to them in quick words. The men seemed unwilling to cooperate until she drew a gun from under her jacket. The workers raised their arms in the air defensively and one of them started walking when Nat gestured forward with her gun.

"That one is kind enough to open the doors for us."

That was easier said than done. Since they didn't know exactly which wagon Tony was in, they had to look in all of them. This time the engineer at least had the keys.

They were able to skip the first three wagons. They contained building material and had no doors, which could only be filled from above. After that came several wagons loaded with pallets of kids toys.

They had already exceeded the twelve minutes until departure. It was highly possible that the police had already been informed that some lunatics had hijacked a train. They could only hope they had enough time to find Tony before someone arrived who would not be intimidated by their guns.

Wagon number nine was empty at first glance. Stephen used his phone’s flashlight to get a better view. There was something on the floor back there. The doctor recognized a dark mop of hair. Immediately, he jumped onto the wagon.

"Tony!"

Tony was bound and unconscious, but breathing, Stephen was relieved to find as he put his fingers to his neck. Possibly drugged, considering the dilated pupils. His clothes were dirty and sweaty, and yet Stephen had never found the sight of him more beautiful, simply because Tony was here and alive.

Stephen tenderly stroked the hair from his face and gently patted his cheek. Tony was probably dehydrated – he looked pale and his face was sunken. Stephen made a mental note to set up a diet plan after the malnutrition Tony had certainly had for the past three weeks.

He turned to his bag to look for a water bottle, but Rhodey beat him to it. He was kneeling on Tony's other side, already holding the water out to Stephen. With a grateful nod, the doctor took it and wet Tony's lips with it. The man’s eyes fluttered and he started stirring.

"Tony," Stephen murmured to help him wake up. "We're here. You're safe."

"Stephen?..." His voice was rasp and his lips so dry that they had to hurt with every movement. Stephen was so happy to hear him that he could cry. "Am I dreaming? They hit me up with the good stuff this time."

Rhodey, meanwhile, was cutting Tony's cable ties with a knife. Not that Tony had the strength to move his numb hands and feet afterwards. "Shut up, we are rescuing you." Rhodey's face was nowhere near as mean as his words, and Tony twisted his mouth into a smile.

"Hmkay, sounds good..."

He slipped back into being unconscious. Stephen checked his pulse, which fortunately remained steady. Rhodey exchanged a look with him and relief was evident in both of their faces.

"Let's get him out of here."

They both tackled carrying Tony off the train. He was frighteningly light, and when they stepped out into the sun, Tony’s normally tanned skin appeared even paler. But that was fine. He would be fine. The important part was that they found him.

Stephens was so focused on his patient, his lover, that he didn't notice much of his surroundings. A car with a driver from Thor was waiting for them and took them back to the airport. Once in the plane Stephen hooked Tony directly onto an IV and used the time to examine him more closely. He was so lank that his ribs showed. His skin just a pale canvas for his tattoos. But except for the red marks on his wrists and ankles where he had been tied up, he had no external injuries. His abductors had probably knocked him out mostly with the drug. And that would hopefully dissipate quickly from his body with the added fluid from the IV.

Stephen took Tony's hand in his. He was dead on his feet. With the little sleep he had before the trip, the time difference, and the whole adventure in Norway, he was exhausted. Still, he stubbornly refused to leave Tony's side. He trusted Rhodey to handle everything else. That he would inform Pepper and arrange everything necessary for Tony's return.

Stephen's eyes fell so slowly that he didn't even notice. The last thing he saw was Tony, who was right where he belonged: with him.

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We're slowly coming to the end of this story. There will be a few more chapters though.

Tag List: @hidden-treasures21

#IronStrange #StrangeIron #stephen strange x tony stark #doctor strange x iron man #Stephen Strange #Doctor Strange #Tony Stark #Mafia AU #Mob Au #Italian mafia #Angst #Drama #Romance #Idiots in love #Faded black ink #ironstrange family

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space-mermaid-writing · 2 years

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Faded Black Ink [IronStrange] - Chapter 7

Relationship: Doctor!Stephen Strange x Mafia!Tony Stark

Tags: Mafia AU, Angst, Romance, Idiots in love

Ko-fi | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's note: Last time they kissed. Time to get some plot into this story now.

Chapter 7: Early mornings and late nights

Stephen was glad when his shift was finally over in the early morning hours. It had been a quiet night shift, unfortunately. He was tired, but sleep was out of the question, even in one of the bunk beds in the on call rooms. Stephen had tried, but his thoughts had kept wandering to Tony Stark. To his lips, his cologne.

Sighing, Stephen had risen from his uncomfortable bed, and thrown himself into work. Except there wasn't much to do. No emergency to which he had been called. Nothing to distract him. Even Christine was gone, her shift having ended before Tony had shown up. There was only Stephen and the watery coffee from the cafeteria.

The sun was already rising when he finally drove home. He got out of his car and approached the front door when a figure detached himself from there and approached him. He was a tall man with dark, back combed hair, wearing a sharp, all black suit. He looked as if he stepped right out of a commercial for Hugo Boss.

"Doctor Stephen Strange?"

He spoke with a foreign accent, and with his confident and flawless demeanor, he was reminiscent of another version of Tony Stark. All alarm bells were ringing in Stephen. This man was dangerous. Only his years spent in the ER, which had trained the doctor to remain at least outwardly calm, enabled him to keep a neutral expression.

"Yes?" he asked warily.

"I need your medical expertise."

Stephen eyed the man without any real interest. All he wanted to do was to go into his apartment and fall face first onto his bed. "You look fine to me."

The man rolled his eyes. "It's about my father." He sounded impatient, irritated that the doctor was being difficult.

Stephen didn't care. "Is it an emergency?"

"Not directly-..."

"Then call my office," Stephen interrupted him, circling him to walk to the front door. "Make an appointment."

The man turned around and followed him, definitely annoyed now. "Look, if this is about money..."

Stephen slammed the door in his face. What was with these people pestering him and trying to buy him? There were perfectly fine doctors at every hospital in New York, who were available 24/7.

Steve and Natasha entered a club in Boston together. Loud and generic music greeted them. The club was furnished in a dark style. It gave the impression of the underground scene, with industrial ambiance. It was a current trend: the more run-down, the better. The lack of taste continued in the outfit choices of the female guests. There was a lot of skin. Natasha saw more than a pair of breasts under fabric that was so translucent it didn't even deserve its name. She felt almost overdressed with her short dress, but was glad it covered everything important.

There were two levels. The main area had a large bar, a spacious seating area with armchairs and small tables, and a dance floor. The club was very crowded, a local hotspot for scene kids that were looking for fun.

The VIP area was on the second floor and they had to get through a bouncer to get there, but that was easy enough. They were invited.

It was rare that Tony sent his people out without him. But he himself was too busy in New York. Besides, it was just a first meeting with a potential business partner. On such occasions, hands were shaken and pleasantries exchanged. People sniffed at each other like dogs in a park, without discussing important things. Tony didn't need to be present for such things. His men (and women) were just as capable of it.

People saw Steve's physical stature and immediately thought he was a thug. Muscles over brains. That was only partially true and sometimes it was good to be underestimated. And as for Natasha; she could step into any role. Together, the two of them made a good team and this wasn't the first job they'd done together. They were efficient, Natasha more subtle, while Steve was more blunt.

They had barely taken a step into the VIP area when their contact approached them. He had dark hair and a scruffy beard. He was dressed in a suit and on his hand, which he held out to Steve, he wore several rings.

"Mr. Rogers. It is so nice to meet you."

"Likewise, Mr. Volkov ." Steve grabbed his hand and shook it with no small amount of force, but the man didn't let on. Rather, he seemed to like Steve's display of strength.

"Please, call me Aleksei," he told Steve in his heavy accent. "We're meeting here to make new friends."

"Only if you call me Steve."

Aleksei grinned broadly and then turned for the first time to Natasha, who had so far stayed out of the conversation. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Nat." She said teasingly, acting like a piece of jewelry being carried out on Steve's arm. "I'm just here to look pretty."

"And you're doing a great job." Aleksei gave her a wink. "But why don't you go downstairs and have fun for a while? I'm sure our business talking will just bore you."

Natasha and Steve exchanged a look. The plan had been for her to stick around, at least for a while, to distract the Russian, maybe pry some information out of him. But if he sent her away so directly, it would be suspicious if she resisted. And she didn't want to make him suspicious.

Like Steve, Aleksei Volkov was not the head of the Russian family that ran this business. But he held enough power to conduct negotiations.

Steve nodded subtly at her. She could leave him alone, he had everything under control. Besides, they could communicate with each other via a hidden comm device in their ears, should it be necessary.

She gave him a seductive smile, which was mostly a show for Aleksei, and then let his arm go.

Satisfied, the Russian led Steve to a private booth in the back of the VIP area and ordered them some vodka.

Back in the main area on the first floor, Natasha disappeared into the crowd of dancers, to shake off potential curious glances. The change of plan wasn't dramatic. It just meant that she had more time for phase two.

There was another door that was guarded by a bouncer. It was near the bar and she made her way through the crowd. On the way, she switched her comm to mute so that Steve would not be distracted by the noises.

She went to the bar near the door and ordered a drink, keeping an eye on the bouncer. The drink she got had a color gradient from yellow to red and was decorated with skewered fruits. She put them between your lips and pulled out the skewer as she waited for an opportunity.

It didn't take long until she took a sip of her drink, before she abandoned it and slipped through the door while the bouncer was shortly distracted.

Behind the door was a short corridor. From the other end she heard another music, an upbeat house rhythm. She walked through an open door and stood in another world.

Lightly dressed women and young men moved between the patrons, who sat in groups in various seating areas. They poured them alcohol or discreetly handed them other sensory-altering substances. The air seemed fogged with the smoke of cigarettes and shisha, making everything seem even more surreal. This was the club's secret drug den.

The guests were mostly men and Natasha picked up a wide variety of languages. She couldn't make out any individual words, the voices were muffled. It was a hidden world that one should only enter if they had a plan B to get out, because otherwise it would eat them, swallow them and never spit them out again. It was dangerous.

The staff was a mix of young women and men - some of them almost still children - who kept the guests company. All of them were selected because of their physical features. Now and then they laughed when a guest made a joke or they entertained them with a dance. Some of the guests had a whole crowd of the pretty accessories gathered around them, getting their shoulders massaged by one, while another giggled on their lap and handed them their cigarette, and a third fed them.

Natasha knew exactly where this was going when a few more dollars changed hands and some hot words were whispered in one ear.

And she was exactly heading for one of these men. She recognized him immediately from the description. Constantine Zimin was neither handsome nor particularly rich. In fact, he had a tendency to be a little bit overweight, had thinning hair and a hideous mustache. Nevertheless, he had gathered around him three young, pretty women who read his every wish from his eyes. He was a black market trader and sold about anything for just the right price.

Natasha couldn't let on that she was tense. She had to give the impression that she knew exactly what she was doing. Only then her plan would work. She had to look like she belonged here.

After she had briefly assessed the situation and found it to be good, she walked purposefully toward the group. On the way, she pilfered a plate of snacks and small treats, which she brought, her hips swinging.

Cheekily, she settled down next to Zimin, offering him the small selection of snacks. "Would you like something?" she asked in a tone as sweet as the treats on her tray.

Zimin only looked briefly at the food and then eyed Natasha with much more interest. "That really looks delicious," he commented, taking a date and slipping it between his lips before putting his arm around her waist.

Normally, he would have a gun to his throat for that. But now she put on a fake smile and put her hand on his shoulder after setting the tray aside. With her other hand, she secretly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a microchip. To make it disappear hidden in her cleavage from the eyes of the others, she leaned over to him and playfully pressed a kiss on his cheek. Then she grabbed her tray again and stood up.

Zimin reached out to keep her with him, but she was nimble and out of reach before he could lay a finger on her. He had no need to call out to her. There were enough other women around him to give him their attention.

She made a slight detour to avoid attracting attention while heading for the door to the front club area. She had almost reached it, when she suddenly heard an angry shout from behind. Turning her head a bit, she saw that Zimin had jumped up and was scanning his pockets. His gaze scanned the room as he failed to find what he had lost, and his finger pointed accusingly and angrily at Natasha when he spotted her. Shit, she was busted.

Immediately, she started running, no longer caring about being subtle. A man in dark clothes put himself in her path, no doubt a guard. She dropped the snacks from her tray and hurled it in his face like a Frisbee. It distracted him enough for her to dive off the side of him and then slid through the door into the narrow hallway.

The guards must be connected via comm, because before she even reached the other end of the hallway, the door opened and along with the music, two more guards appeared. They wanted to take her out before she disturbed the other club patrons.

Natasha silently cursed her much too short dress. It was not designed for a fight and revealed a lot while she was moving. She would be an amateur, though, if she let that stop her.

She was at a disadvantage because she didn't have any weapons with her, but the security did. Natasha jumped and landed on the shoulder of one of the guards, using the momentum to acrobatically twirl around him. Now the man had no weapon and Natasha tasered him in the neck. He gave a short gurgle and fell to the ground like a puppet without strings. Natasha rolled elegantly and dodged a punch from the other guy. They met in a hand to hand combat fight from which the young woman emerged victorious.

She took the pistol from his belt, even though she didn't plan to use it in the club. Too many civilians were present. But it was always good to have a backup plan.

Back on her feet, she unmutes her comm. "Steve, we might have a problem."

She had not paid attention to the voices in her comm during the two minutes that the fight had lasted. But now she heard shouts and the breaking of glass from his end.

Natasha hurried through the crowd in the club toward the VIP area, but before she reached the door, Steve approached her. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along.

He clearly had already given out a few punches - his hair was disheveled and a button was missing from his suit. They had arrived together – as far as Volkov knew, Steve had only be a distraction for her scheme.

"What happened?" Steve asked as they quickly made their way through the guests. Some of them noticed the commotion and unrest was spreading. But not enough for panic.

"I had a disagreement with someone." That was as vague as it was meaningless.

Steve said nothing but it was clear that he disapproved of her actions. But now the damage was done. No need to shed tears over it. Time to get out.

Together they rushed to the main entrance. Just as they stepped into the cool air outside, they heard the boots of more guards. Shots were fired and Natasha and Steve duck behind some cars. The people that stood in the queue waiting to get inside, screamed and chaos broke.

Steve heard a low whirring sound before an arrow hit one of the guards. A second followed immediately. Clint sat in the building across the street as backup. Keeping his eyes open, he was supposed to watch their backs in case something didn't go according to plan.

It gave Natasha and Steve the seconds they needed. Gritting their teeth, they kept running. There was no alternative. Stopping means dying. Or worse.

They managed to escape in the darkness of the night.

_____________________________

The night club visit is totally a reference to the opening of CATWS when Nat and Steve get onto that boat. They're a great duo. Any idea who Stephen's visitor could be?

#IronStrange #StrangeIron #Stephen Strange #Doctor Strange #Tony Stark #Mafia AU #Mob Au #Italian mafia #Angst #Drama #Romance #Idiots in love #Faded black ink #ironstrange family #stephen strange x tony stark #doctor strange x iron man

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