At the end of the dance in the ballroom, the participants dispersed.
Natasha pulled open the door and got into a black sedan that was parked outside the Kremlin.
This was the brand-new Volga just assembled in the Gorky Automobile Plant a few days ago.
It had smooth lines and unique decoration, which fully embodied the unique industrial aesthetics of the Soviet Union.
The Volga was once known as 'the high-class car of socialism' and 'the pride of Soviet industry', and then it was widely used as cars for executives.
Once imported into China, it became a special vehicle for state leaders.
On the surface of this black car, there was a KGB sword shield emblem.
Although Taras was the manager of the Red Room, he was a senior executive of Leviathan.
However, according to the professional habits of the master spy, one must assume the look when they go out to the battlefield.
Taras had always used his KGB identity to do things. Apart from several core executives of intelligence departments, almost no one had heard of 'Leviathan'.
He was like a ghost hiding inside the red empire, silently nibbling away at the power and penetrating the center.
"Is that what Superman said to you?"
Taras frowned. Things were a bit beyond his expectation.
In the script, at this point, Superman would have taken Natasha into his fancy suite and started a night full of fire and passion.
The other party would find out about Natasha's identity, but it shouldn't be right now.
Close skin-to-skin contact was needed to understand the heart.
After chatting for a while, Superman bluntly identified Natasha and wanted to meet with him.
This was wrong.
Taras had a grim, paralyzed expression, not showing his anger.
He was shocked to hear the news from Natasha.
"Superman wasn't interested in you?"
Taras temporarily put the idea of meeting in the back of his mind. Rashly sitting in front of Superman, in case the conversation fell apart, he didn't know if he would survive.
He focused on Natasha, his icy eyes sweeping over.
The latter's charming body trembled for a moment as if being targeted by a wild animal and subconsciously felt fear.
Taras was the mentor of all the students in the Red Room and also the harsh father and a cruel devil in their eyes.
When he appreciated a person, he wouldn't be stingy with his praise.
When he was disappointed in a person, he wouldn't hesitate to impose punishment.
"I think, the General, he should be interested in me."
Natasha said with slight hesitation, remembering Superman's flirtatious gesture of reaching out and hooking her chin before he left.
Taras was silent as he gazed at the chick sent by the Red Room.
Natasha was wearing a bright red backless dress tonight, with a tailored waist; it highlighted her beautiful curves.
People couldn't take their eyes off of her red wine wavy hair, as if it was a burning flame.
Natasha was still very young. She was a slender young woman, far from the stunning and charming beauty of the future.
But this naïve haze, like an apple that wasn't fully ripe, was more attractive to male creatures, making them want to take a bite.
After all, men were single-minded.
No matter what age they were, they would always prefer young, beautiful, lively girls.
This pure fetish wouldn't change because of anything.
Therefore, Taras was surprised.
It was reasonable to say that Superman had no reason to be uninterested in Natasha.
Could it be, as Egorova said?
Superman had a certain fetish?
Preferring the mature ones?
Or have a soft spot for married women?
Taras was well informed and had met a lot of business tycoons.
Those rich people who were satisfied with their material life would always have all kinds of strange special fetishes.
This wasn't surprising.
As the head of the intelligence agency, Taras was privy to many private matters.
For example, certain dignified politicians like to be whipped and have candle wax dripped on them.
Some guys weren't interested in women but were keen on the warm embrace of young men.
Even he had heard of it.
A long time ago, some deranged people wouldn't even let animals go.
They often extended their clutches to innocent goats.
And people that lived in faraway locations in the snowfields had an indescribable relationship with deer.
The reason was that the climate was cold, and some were too lonely when they went herding farm animals.
Therefore, the heat was gained by their passionate movement with the deer, and the body and mind could relax.
Looking deeper, not only the European people are open-minded, but they also like to care for animals.
In mythology, similar stories are passed down.
For example,
Loki, in Nordic mythology.
He was a mighty and magnificent mare.
He once extended his wicked hand to a divine horse named 'Svadilfari'.
It pressed him under its body and recklessly defiled him.
The ridiculous thing was that he also gave birth to an eight-legged horse named 'Sleipnir' with that horse, and that was the horse ridden by Odin.
The father rode the horse that his son gave birth to every day...
This confusing relationship was too much information to digest.
Of course, Greek mythology wasn't far behind, leading the way.
The walking pile driver, the sowing tool, Zeus, the King of the Gods who was both human and animal-friendly. There's no need to say anything more.
Flying in the sky, swimming in the sea, as long as it was female, he dared to hit on it. A one-night stand was guaranteed.
With his thoughts averted, Taras' voice turned cold as he spoke in a deep voice, "Are you too nervous and not proactive enough?
At that time, he chose Natasha because he wanted to find a clean female student with a simple background.
In this way, she wouldn't be easily investigated by S.H.I.E.L.D, and it would be convenient to approach Superman.
However, Taras ignored one point because chicks were often no match for eagles; they would easily rollover.
"I'll report this to Leviathan. You stay close to Superman. I will arrange for you to accompany me throughout the Red Square Conference."
Taras still wouldn't give up and had to deliver Natasha with both hands.
As for meeting Superman, since Hydra put forward the plan, let them have a headache.
...
...
For the next few days, Luke's life was busy.
During the day, he had to deal with the politicians, who all called him 'Comrade Cavill', trying to influence Superman with the glory of communism.
Luke never imagined that he would have to face the painful 'Maoism Course' after crossing.
Even worse at night, Natasha was an untrained chick who had no evil thoughts about the bed for the time being.
But the Red Room seemed to be taking into account the cold weather in Moscow and sent women to Luke in different ways.
In addition to following the whole process, Natasha acted like a secretary.
Every day, two or three female students with different temperaments and excellent values were sent to parade in front of him.
Taras, the master spy, like a pimp in a clubhouse, would silently ask Superman -- "Which massage therapist do you think is pleasing? You can take her back and enjoy.'
'I wonder what Hydra is thinking?'
Luke sat in the lobby of the Kremlin building, automatically blocking out the noise in his ears.
Taras should have conveyed his meaning to Baron Strucker truthfully.
Presumably, it wouldn't be long before he would get a reply.
He hoped Hydra understood what was best for them. After all, a positive figure like him who didn't discriminate against villains was simply a rare thing.
"My secretary?"
Luke suddenly asked.
He turned his head and found that Captain America had disappeared.
"He was there just now."
Natasha's eyes were always on Superman, and she had no interest in the ordinary curly man.
Luke narrowed his eyes.
Could he be looking for the Winter Soldier?