John Wick piloted the helicopter over the coordinates Melina had provided. From their current altitude, the skies above appeared completely empty—there was no sign at all of the rumored Red Room airborne base.
"Boss, we're in the target area," Smith Doyle reported.
He glanced up at the clouds. If the Red Room was airborne, it had to be concealed within the cloud cover. They just needed to search the area layer by layer.
Melina watched as Smith Doyle opened the helicopter door. A fierce wind howled through the cabin, though fortunately they weren't flying too high.
"Mr. Smith, how do you plan on finding the Red Room?" she asked.
Smith turned to the others and said calmly, "Natasha, let's get your revenge."
Natasha stood and stepped forward, throwing her arms around Smith's neck and clinging to him like a child.
Smith shook his head. Flying like this wasn't exactly dignified. With a resigned sigh, he scooped Natasha into a bridal carry, then looked over at John Wick.
"John, take the rest of them and land. We'll come back once we've dealt with the enemy."
John nodded. "Got it, boss. Good luck out there."
"Hope you return victorious," Aleksei called out.
"Hey, man, I wanna help too!" he added.
Smith just gave him an apologetic look. Holding Natasha was one thing—he definitely wasn't about to carry Aleksei through the sky. That would be way too awkward.
As Smith soared off into the clouds with Natasha, Aleksei could only stare in disappointment. Taking down Dreykov and the Red Room—such a big deal, and he didn't get to be part of it. It would definitely ruin the story the next time he wanted to brag.
Melina, on the other hand, simply gazed at Smith Doyle flying off, wondering how a human could possibly acquire the ability to fly.
---
Smith Doyle activated his combat scanner and began aerial reconnaissance, ascending deeper into the thick cloud cover.
Natasha held tightly to him, her arms around his neck and her head pressed against his chest, as the wind screamed around them.
For a brief moment, a ridiculous thought crossed Natasha's mind—add a cape, and Smith would be a dead ringer for Superman. Toss in laser eyes, and the resemblance would be uncanny. Only question left was, who would be his Lois Lane?
Unaware of Natasha's wandering thoughts, Smith weaved through the clouds, his scanner beeping as it picked up readings.
He smiled. "Gotcha."
Natasha blinked. "Already? I don't see anything… is it invisible or something?"
Smith didn't respond. Instead, he zeroed in on the scanner's signal and accelerated toward the source.
After cutting through a final layer of clouds, a massive structure appeared before them.
Natasha gasped. "They really built a base in the sky…"
Smith scanned the floating platform. Hidden by thick cloud cover and moving with the wind, it was hard to detect from below. Several aircraft were parked on various landing pads. Smith chose one and made a beeline for it.
WHOOSH!
They landed softly on the pad. Smith set Natasha down and said, "This is the Red Room. Let's find your sister."
The door to the base was locked. Without hesitation, Smith stepped forward and kicked it.
BOOM!
What should have been a reinforced barrier flew off its hinges like it was made of cardboard.
"Jesus… you're like a one-man wrecking crew," Natasha muttered, pulling out her pistols and following him in.
From the Red Room's control center, a guard spotted the intruders via surveillance.
"Suspicious individuals on landing pad five! Repeat, intruders on pad five!"
Before he could finish his report, the landing bay door had already been breached. He slammed the alarm button.
Red warning lights flashed throughout the base, and a loudspeaker blared:
"Enemy breach on landing pad five! Enemy breach on landing pad five!"
At that moment, Dreykov was sipping vodka in his office. His armored daughter stood nearby, ready for anything.
Startled by the alarm, Dreykov set his glass down and approached his computer. A quick ring scan activated the system.
A large holographic display lit up the room. One section showed a red warning flashing over platform five. Other screens displayed camera feeds from all over the base.
Dreykov quickly spotted the intruders—and his eyes locked onto one of them.
"Natasha Romanoff," he muttered. "Well, well… never thought I'd see you back here. What a surprise."
He tapped her image, pulling up her profile.
Then he tapped the man beside her.
"Let's see who your friend is…"
A moment later, the screen displayed Smith Doyle's data—and Dreykov froze.
He'd anticipated a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, or maybe someone off the grid. But this?
"The head of the Assassin's League?"
Dreykov was stunned. How the hell had they gotten mixed up in this?
As a former Soviet intelligence chief, he knew all about the League. He'd studied their movements, knew they were based in New York. But he'd dismissed them—saw them as idealistic fanatics.
Now he realized he might have underestimated them.
"Well… no matter how or why you've come here, I'll treat you like a gift-wrapped opportunity."
He knew Natasha had been dosed with a biochemical agent. As long as she could smell his pheromones, she couldn't harm him. Capturing her would be easy—and once under his control, she'd be the perfect pawn to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D.
As for Smith Doyle… once he was infected with the biovirus, Dreykov could control him too. And if he had the League's leader under his thumb, he'd basically own an entire organization.
"A double windfall," Dreykov said, grinning. "Let's just see how you found us… and how you flew up here without a ship. Once you're captured, I'll get my answers."
—End of chapter—
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