"Shit." I thought as I looked at the red-haired agent. I recognized her immediately. Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow. The idea that SHIELD was after me was something I had considered, but not so soon. My alias was new, hastily created to get this flight to Nepal. All I wanted was to get off the radar, and now it seemed I had caught their attention. My mind was racing a mile a minute.
'What do I do? If I play along, she's going to pull everything she knows out of me. If I try to use my skills to get out of this, it will be worse. They don't know what I do exactly, but if I give any hint, they'll have me in a glass box before I can blink. Damn it, I should have stayed in Malibu.'
"Mr. Smith? Are you all right?" the agent asked, with that calm, professional tone that hid how dangerous she was. I took too long to respond. 'Shit.'
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, forcing myself to keep my composure. "So, officer, do you want us to have this conversation in private or right here?"
"Wherever you prefer, Mr. Smith." That slight emphasis on the fake last name almost made me roll my eyes. "After all, this isn't an interrogation."
Bullshit. Of course it was, though not officially. It wasn't the first time someone had tried to get information out of me without drawing attention to themselves, but this was different. This woman was playing on a whole different level.
With a gesture, I motioned for her to follow me. I chose an airport cafe, public enough that she wouldn't try anything drastic, but not so noisy as to prevent us from overhearing each other. I sat at a table by a window, letting the natural light soften the tension a bit. Natasha sat across from me, adjusting her posture with the precision of someone who was always ready to attack or defend.
The waiter came over and we ordered. She, a black coffee. Me, a green tea. Not because I wanted it, but because I needed time to think.
"Okay, Mr. Smith," Natasha said after a moment, interlocking her fingers on the table. "I'm going to get straight to the point, if you don't mind. We don't want any trouble with you, but you seem to have already come to our attention. My job is to find out why."
"Nepal isn't a tourist destination now?" I replied, keeping my tone light. "I didn't know SHIELD was in charge of regulating vacations."
Her smile was so brief I almost missed it. It was a mask, a calculated move to make me feel like I was in control. I wasn't.
"SHIELD doesn't regulate vacations, but it does monitor unusual...behavior," she replied, leaning her arms lightly on the table. "And lately, you've been standing out in that regard."
"Standing out. Sure." I should have guessed. They'd found traces of my abilities, but they didn't know exactly what I could do. That gave me a slight advantage, though not for long if they kept pushing.
"That's a little vague, Agent," I said, smiling. "I'm not sure what you mean by unusual."
"Maybe I should explain myself better then," Natasha said, leaning forward just barely. Her voice dropped a tone, but not enough to sound threatening. "You, John Walker. Yes, we know your real name. We know you're no common criminal, no mere tourist. In fact, there are people very interested in finding out what you might do. And, frankly, so am I."
I felt a shiver run down my spine. 'Great, Walker. Now you're really in the spotlight.'
"Interesting theory, but I'm nobody special." I replied with a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "What do you think I can do, Agent?"
Natasha didn't answer right away. Instead, she took a sip of her coffee, keeping her eyes fixed on me. It was a calculated move, designed to make me uncomfortable. After a moment, she set the cup down calmly and crossed her arms on the table.
"That's what I want to find out. SHIELD has received reports...fragmentary ones. A man who discovered Tony Stark's location before any of our agents. Someone who seems to be in two places at once. Signs that the weather around you doesn't always behave as it should. What we don't know is how far he can go with that, or if he's a threat."
'Perfect. This is what I wanted to avoid.' My mind went back to work at full speed. I couldn't confirm or deny anything without giving them a head start.
"That sounds like a case of mistaken identity," I replied, shrugging. "They seriously think I can...manipulate time? It sounds like something out of a movie."
Natasha was not fooled. Her deep blue eyes narrowed with an intensity that could pierce any facade. There was something in her gaze that not only sought answers, but analyzed, picked apart every word, every gesture, as if trying to solve a larger riddle.
"Maybe you're right," she said with a calmness that was more intimidating than any overt threat. "But here we are, aren't we? So, tell me, John, how is it that you've managed to stay one step ahead of SHIELD?"
Her tone was sharp, direct, but there was something else: a genuine curiosity hidden behind the professionalism. She was good at this, too good. I felt the air around me grow heavier, as if each word had a weight of its own that could crush me if I didn't handle this carefully. Natasha was playing her cards right. It was my turn, and I knew I had to do better.
My mind considered options. I could slow down time and disappear before I even processed what was happening. I had that card up my sleeve. But the mere act of doing so would be enough to confirm for him what were so far only suspicions. I couldn't afford that. Not yet.
'Don't show your cards yet.' I reminded myself. I took a deep breath and composed a neutral expression before responding.
"I'm under no obligation to respond to that, agent," I said, my tone as cold and calculated as I could manage.
She cocked her head slightly, as if expecting that response. She didn't flinch, but a slight twinkle in her eye told me I had just given her something else to think about.
"It's true," she said, crossing her arms. Her posture was relaxed, but everything about her conveyed restrained danger. "But not answering at SHIELD...well, I think you get the picture of how we take it, don't you?"
She knew exactly what he was referring to. SHIELD wasn't famous for ignoring those who evaded their questions, especially when someone like Natasha Romanoff was at the table. The feeling of being caught in a trap intensified, but I forced myself to keep my composure.
"What do you want?" I asked, letting my tone harden a bit.
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she barely tilted her head forward, keeping her eyes fixed on mine, as if assessing whether I would be naïve enough to give a full answer.
"I want you to tell me how you did it." She finally said, with a calmness that bordered on the unsettling.
"I can't, agent," I quickly replied. My response came out more strained than I had planned, but I held my ground. "If I did, I'd be putting myself in danger."
"John..." she began, her voice taking on a more persuasive tone. She took another step toward me, close enough for me to notice the subtlety in her perfume, a soft but metallic scent that matched her perfectly. "I assure you that whatever conversation we have will not be overheard by anyone. No one else needs to know."
I repressed a sigh and forced a small smile. Her performance was impeccable, but I wasn't that easily manipulated. "It's not that, Agent," I said cautiously. I let my eyes drift briefly to the clock on the wall, measuring my words. "It's just that I don't trust you, and I certainly don't trust your organization."
The statement hung in the air between us like a ticking time bomb. For the first time, I noticed a slight change in his expression, barely perceptible. It was quick, but it was there: a split second in which her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed a little more.
"Well," I continued, noticing the hour on the watch from the place we were. "This conversation has been very enriching, Agent Romanoff. But, considering this is not an official interrogation and I have a flight to catch..." I paused deliberately, letting the weight of my words fall before I finished. "I think it's time for me to retire."
I turned toward the door, conscious of every move I made. I couldn't show weakness, not now. However, just before crossing the threshold, I allowed myself one last glance toward it.
I noticed the slightest arch of her eyebrow, an almost imperceptible reaction that told me all I needed to know: I had taken her by surprise. Not because I was leaving, but because I knew her name. I didn't bother to explain or give her a chance to ask. I simply smiled, a gesture I knew would leave her with more questions than answers, and kept walking.
When the cafe finally ended behind me, I felt a slight release in my chest, but not quite. Natasha Romanoff was not one to leave loose ends. This wasn't over. It hadn't even begun.