Through the shattered window, he saw a figure in black approaching.
The assailant was clad head to toe in tactical gear, his face obscured by a terrifying black mask, the eyes cold and unfeeling. The man raised his weapon, pointing it directly at Igor.
"Do something!" Igor screamed, his voice cracking with desperation as he turned toward the two widows seated beside him.
One of the widows, her movements precise and calculated, kicked open her door with a swift, powerful motion.
The door slammed into Erik's hand, sending the gun clattering to the ground. The impact forced him to momentarily take a few steps back, his weapon now out of reach.
The second widow was already moving, her reflexes honed by years of training. "Stay down!" She barked at Igor as she pushed him out of the car from the other exit.
The widow who kicked the door leaped out of the vehicle with fluid, precise movements. Her sharp eyes scanned the scene, calculating every possible outcome in seconds.
Without hesitation, she rushed toward Erik, a gleaming knife in her hand, her intent clear and deadly.
Erik briefly glanced at the gun on the ground but decided against retrieving it when a sharp twinge from his spider-sense alerted him to her attack.
He shifted his body just in time, dodging the thrust of her blade. He then caught her wrist with one hand in a vice-like grip.
The widow twisted and pulled, trying to wrench her arm free, but her strength proved useless against him.
Her shock was evident.. No matter how much force she applied, her arm refused to budge even a fraction.
Undeterred, she swung her free fist, her knuckles intending to smash into Erik's jaw.
To her dismay, the assailant who was about 5ft4 suddenly grabed her fist mid air not letting it hit his face. .
Erik's head tilted slightly to the side with a smile hidden under his mask. "Finished ?"
Without another word, He pivoted rapidly, using his grip to fling the widow across the street with some of his spider-strenght.
CRACK! PLOP! BAM !
The sound of bone crushing and her shoulder dislocating echoed through the air as she hit the asphalt, sliding to a stop in the middle of the road.
"Midnight!" Erik shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos as he bent down to grab his gun. He began circling the vehicle, his focus sharp.
From the other side of the wreckage, Midnight stepped into view with Nikolai standing by his side.
Understanding the unspoken command, the two moved swiftly, closing the distance to the lightly injured widow in seconds.
As she struggled to regain her footing, the two were already on her. Their strikes precises and relentless as the two engaged the widow in combat.
POP POP POP POP POP!
Gunshots echoed loudly through the street, shattering the tense silence and plunging the scene into chaos.
Civilians screamed and scrambled for safety, their panicked voices blending with the sharp cracks of firearms. Erik ducked behind the wrecked car, using it as cover as bullets peppered the area around him.
He risked a quick glance over the hood of the car, only to retreat immediately as a hail of gunfire rained down in his direction. Letting out an irritated sigh, he muttered under his breath.. "They already caught up to us?"
Peering again, Erik spotted the familiar dark SUV, its presence explaining everything. The vehicle, which had been held up by the police moments ago, was now parked a short distance away. Four armed security guards, rifles blazing, provided suppressive fire, creating a barrier of lead to cover the target's escape.
The widow with Igor started slipping away under the cover fire, darting down a nearby alley.
Erik raised his weapon, aiming for the target but was forced to duck again as another volley of shots raked his position.
"Daa hell is Li's team doing?!" Erik growled internally, his frustration mounting as he clenched his fists.
Suddenly, the distinct sound of gunfire erupted from the opposite side of the street. The security guards turned in confusion, caught off guard as bullets whizzed toward them.
Erik peeked carefully, his irritation melting into grudging relief as he spotted Li's team advancing into position.
The squad moved with precision, exchanging fire with the guards and forcing them to split their focus. The tide of the skirmish began to turn as Erik's allies pressed the attack.
With the pressure on him lessening, Erik seized the moment, gripping his weapon tightly and preparing to re-enter the fray.
The dark alley was eerily silent, broken only by the sound of Erik's measured steps echoing off the damp walls.
His sharp eyes darted around, scanning the shadowy corners and piles of discarded debris. "Where are you hiding, Igor?" He called out in broken Russian, his youthful voice tinged with menace despite its not-quite-matured timbre.
His words carried a quiet promise of inevitability. "I know you're there..."
The stillness of the alley was shattered when his spider sense flared—a visceral, burning sensation coursing through his nerves. It screamed at him, louder and more intense than usual, signaling a mortal threat.
Trusting the instinct without hesitation, Erik propelled himself upward with a sudden, inhuman leap, springing ten meters to the side of a nearby building just as three bullets ripped through the space he'd occupied moments before.
He didn't pause.
The moment his feet touched the brick surface, he launched himself again, disappearing into the shadows of the alley in a fluid, supernatural motion.
Gunshots rang out, tracking his movements as flashes of muzzle fire briefly lit up the dark.
Each leap was precise and purposeful, the young assassin twisting and contorting his body in ways no ordinary human could, his agility defying the very laws of physics.
Erik's movements were a blur in the faint moonlight, his shadow flickering across walls and ground like a monster.
His relentless, unpredictable trajectory confused his attacker, each impossible stunt drawing their fire to empty corners of the alley. The bullets illuminated the black widow's position—a slim figure crouched behind a stack of crates, her silenced pistol snapping with mechanical precision as she attempted to track her elusive prey.
Erik crouched silently in the deep shadows of an overhang. His masked face turned toward the widow's position, his eyes narrowing. "Got you." He muttered under his breath.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Igor muttered under his breath, his voice trembling as he curled up tighter inside the foul-smelling dumpster.
His heart pounded so loudly in his chest that he feared it might betray him, thundering in his ears like a war drum.
Sweat dripped from his forehead, mingling with the grime and stench of rotting garbage that surrounded him.
The nausea rose in his throat, but he swallowed it down, terrified of making even the slightest sound.
"Quiet, quiet..." He whispered, though the words were more for himself than anything else. He forced his breathing to slow, but his nerves refused to obey. The oppressive silence outside only made it worse.
For a few minutes or what felt like an eternity to him.. The world outside was alive with chaos—the crack of gunfire, the clash of bodies, grunts of exertion. Then, suddenly, nothing. Absolute silence.
He held his breath, his ears straining for the faintest sound. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating wrapping around him like a noose.
He is dead.. He thought desperately, trying to reassure himself. The Widow couldn't have lost... Could she?
His mind raced, battling between fear and logic. But logic faltered when faint footsteps echoed in the alley. Slow and deliberate, the sound grew louder, closer.. Each step a hammer blow against his fragile composure.
Then they stopped.
Right in front of the dumpster.
Igor's entire body trembled as his worst fears came crashing down. His breath hitched and he clamped his hand over his mouth to stifle the terrified whimper that escaped. No, no, no... He thought. There's no way. It's impossible!
Suddenly, the lid of the dumpster creaked open, and before Igor could even blink, a hand shot in like a viper. Fingers closed around his collar, yanking him out with a strength that defied human limits. He cried out as he was lifted effortlessly, his body flailing like a rag doll before being hurled to the ground.
Thud.
The impact knocked the wind out of him, his back scraping against the rough asphalt. His ears rang as he struggled to orient himself, gasping for air.
He looked up, his eyes widening in terror as he took in the figure standing above him—a small masked man, clad in black, radiating an aura of cold, unrelenting menace.
Erik tilted his head slightly, his voice calm. "Found you."
Igor immediately dropped to his knees, his hands clasped together in a desperate prayer gesture. His voice trembled as he stammered. "Please, listen... I'll double the—"
POP!
The sound of the gunshot silenced him forever.
Erik's bullet pierced Igor's forehead with ruthless precision, cutting off his plea mid-sentence.
The man crumpled to the ground in a grotesque heap, his body convulsing briefly as blood gushed from the wound and his mouth.
Without hesitation, Erik pointed the gun again.
POP! POP!
Two more shots rang out in quick succession, ensuring there would be no miracle, no chance of survival. Igor's lifeless body stilled, and the alley was once again enveloped in eerie silence, save for the faint echo of the final shots.
Erik lowered the weapon, his gaze shifting to the Widow's lifeless form sprawled on the ground.
He stood there for a moment, as if weighing the weight of what he had just done.
Then, with a resigned sigh, he crouched beside her. His gloved hand gently closed her eyes, giving her a semblance of peace in death.
"Brainwashing is a really fucked up thing to use." Erik muttered under his breath, shaking his head. His tone was cold but carried an undercurrent of disdain for the practice.
Suddenly, his Spider-Sense flared—a sharp, tingling sensation buzzing at the back of his skull. It wasn't the overwhelming jolt of mortal danger but still something strong enough to knock out a normal human being.
Left side?
Erik barely had time to register the threat before a figure emerged from the shadows.
He decided to take it, so he raised his arm to block. But the force of the incoming blow was greater than he expected.
"What have you done?!" A voice bellowed, thick with a Russian accent yet clear in English.
A powerful kick struck Erik's side, sending him flying through the air like a ragdoll.
CRASH!
His body collided with the unforgiving wall of a building, the impact reverberating through his body. Dust and loose bricks rained down around him as Erik slumped momentarily against the wall.
The man crouched beside the Widow's body, his thick fingers pressing against her neck to check for a pulse. A flicker of hope crossed his face, but it faded just as quickly.
He then rushed over to Igor's crumpled form. His hands moved with urgency, searching for any sign of life.
"Shit! I arrived too late!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air in an exaggerated display of frustration.
A faint sound of movement made the man pause. He turned sharply, his eyes widening in surprise as he caught sight of Erik, the very man he had sent flying, now rising to his feet.
"You're strong for a small man." The Russian said, his thick accent rolling off his tongue as he planted one hand on his waist.
Erik, on the other hand. Dusted himself off nonchalantly, patting away the dirt on his clothes.
His body language radiated calm. As if the devastating blow he had taken moments ago was nothing more than an inconvenience.
His gaze locked onto the man before him.
Through his mask, his eyes widened slightly in recognition.
"No shit.." Erik muttered, his voice laced with annoyance and surprise. "Captain fucking Russia?"