Natasha Romanoff {Black Widow} {Adopted Sister of Yelena} {Avenger} {Only has eyes for The Big Guy}MU



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Age: 36
Sign: Sagittarius

Country: United States
Signup Date: February 05, 2025

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05/25/2025 

'The Zurich Breach'

This wasn’t Natasha’s first time in Zurich, and given the chance, she one day may get to take in its sights fully, but for now, she had to make do with watching the city pass by from the tinted back window of the black sedan. Through the picturesque lanes of the central Altstadt, to the left and the right, the spring sunlight shimmered off the Limmet River. The vehicle pulled up in front of the Hyatt Regency Hotel, a sleek glass and steel structure in the heart of the city. Natasha put on her ‘game face’, taking the guise of an erstwhile yet frequented persona. The chauffeur opened the door, flashing her a professional smile, and with a deep exhale of breath, the redhead climbed out. The luxury 5-star hotel had been a change from the original venue; there had been a last-minute cancellation. Which, of course, meant Natasha had to alter her plans. Draw back, on such short notice, not all of the intelligence was in place, nevertheless, she still had a job to do.


With her usual air of confidence, as if belonging in a place like this, the doorman barely glanced at the lanyard hanging around her neck, saying the words - ‘Natasha Rush, Private Sector Risk Consultant’.

The corners of her lips quirked into a subtle smile as she passed through the metal detectors. Making a mental note of the placement of each security camera, and guard in the foyer.


The lobby was a buzz with tech elites, diplomats, PAs, and CEO’s exchanging pleasantries. Off the lobby were several doors; one leading to the main hall, and a long corridor with doors running down either side, each opening up to numerous other conference rooms. Stark Industries banners fluttered discreetly beside displays from Wakandan R&D and European defense startups, and others. Despite the change of venue, it was strangely very polished and organised. 


Natasha strode through the lobby, entering the main conference hall. Which, like the lobby, was also a buzz, with many conversations in a variety of languages. She weaved through the crowds, unnoticed. Her posture relaxed, and the faint hint of a smile played upon her lips. She passed a display labeled Stark Technologies: Legacy and the Future.

Retrieving a champagne flute from a tray close by, she took a sip. Blending in. Nearing the back corner of the large room, stood a thin man in a grey suit. Natasha made her way towards him. Approaching casually and keeping her voice relaxed and friendly, she began a deliberate conversation. “I hear these new drones can paint a target from five miles out without breaking a sweat.”

The man didn’t look at her. Just sipped his drink and murmured, “Only if they’ve got the right firmware. You’re late.”

Natasha gave a soft, humourless chuckle. “I’m never late.”


The man twitched, nervously taking another, rather large sip of his drink.

“They’re after something, and it isn’t a coincidence that the summit got moved. We thought we had days, but plans have changed. I think it’s happening today. Here.”

He finally looked at her. “All we know is a few mercenaries were pulled from deep storage—ghosts with scrubbed files, ex-subcontractors of Stark industries, possibly…Someone's paying a lot to keep this quiet.”

“Do we know who?”
He shook his head. “Above my pay grade.”

Nat huffed softly. “Well, maybe you should start getting paid the big bucks. Thanks. Keep your eyes peeled and stay safe. I’ll be in touch.”


And then just like that, he was gone. Natasha remained still for some time. Her eyes scanned the room, mind already spinning. So they had already breached the summit, she had to warn someone, but she didn't know whom she could trust; the room was awash with unfamiliar faces. There was, however, one person that she knew would be here somewhere, and so she went in search of her. Pepper Potts. CEO of Stark Industries, wife of Tony Stark, and in a loose, complicated sense, that Natasha knew friendship - a friend.


Finally, making a move, deliberate and concise. She slipped her glass onto a passing tray. Adjusting her lanyard, with a small flick of the wrist - activating a micro scanner hidden in her ID badge…And once again, she moved around the room…..

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