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"Dreykov's trying to escape. I'll intercept him."
After leaving that sentence behind, Smith Doyle shot off in Dreykov's direction, moving so fast he whipped up a violent gust that sent debris flying everywhere.
Natasha, clutching Yelena, her red hair streaming in the wind, heard Smith's voice. Slinging her sister onto her back, she rushed after him.
At that moment, Dreykov, escorted by his guards and with his daughter at his side, had already reached the jet on the launch platform. As he stepped aboard, a sense of relief washed over him. With the jet's acceleration, liftoff would only take a few seconds.
The jet lifted off smoothly. Dreykov stared at the control panel in his hand—so long as he remained alive, the Widows scattered across the globe would still obey him. Given time, he could rebuild this floating fortress.
His ring completed identification on the control panel, and with a grimace, Dreykov activated the self-destruct sequence. A 60-second countdown appeared.
"Damn you, Smith Doyle. Damn you, Natasha. You can all die here with my base."
"You so-called superhumans belong in prisons like Alexei—experimented on forever!"
He clenched his teeth in hatred. This base had cost him a fortune in time, manpower, and resources. And now it was all about to vanish.
BANG!
Suddenly, the jet's door dented inward under a massive punch.
Dreykov's eyes widened in terror. "Shoot! Fire!!"
BOOM!
Smith Doyle tore the jet's door clean off and tossed it aside like trash.
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG—
Bullets rained down on him, but they only flattened and clattered to the floor. His suit was bulletproof, barely scratched under the barrage.
Smith stormed into the jet, throwing Dreykov's guards out one by one. Even as they plummeted, they twisted midair and kept firing at the plane, still under Dreykov's control.
With one punch, Smith shattered the armor on Dreykov's daughter, knocking her unconscious. He grabbed Dreykov in one hand, the mimic-in-training in the other, and flew them both back to the landing pad.
The jet? A single energy blast from Smith blew it to pieces midair.
Just as Natasha arrived at the platform with Yelena, two bodies dropped from above and slammed to the ground in front of her.
"Ah!"
THUD! THUD!
It was none other than Dreykov and the mimic master.
Dreykov groaned, barely conscious, his control pad nearly flying from his grip.
"Dreykov!"
Hearing someone call his name, Dreykov sat up and quickly turned the control pad face-down.
"Natasha. What a surprise."
"You actually brought people to destroy my Red Room... something I built with my own hands."
Smith Doyle landed beside them.
Natasha looked at the disfigured woman beside Dreykov and asked, puzzled, "Who is she?"
If Smith brought her back, she had to be important.
"Dreykov's daughter," Smith replied coldly.
Natasha studied her closely—she hadn't died?
That made no sense. That explosion should've killed her. She'd seen the whole building collapse. Both Dreykov and his daughter were there.
So... S.H.I.E.L.D. had lied to her?
All these years of loyalty, guilt, regret—was it all for nothing?
She had been fooled, first by the Red Room, then by S.H.I.E.L.D.
As she stood there, visibly stricken, Dreykov laughed.
"Ha... ha..."
"Heard you've been living with guilt because of that bomb."
"I should thank you—for giving me such a powerful weapon."
At that moment, Natasha finally let go. Her entire past had been built on lies—first in the Red Room, then in S.H.I.E.L.D.
"What's my mother's name?"
Dreykov hesitated, then, sensing an opportunity to stall, answered with a smirk.
"Hmm…"
"There was a tree where we buried her…"
"Surrounded by a field of pink flowers. Quite beautiful."
"There's even a headstone. Her name's written on it."
"What's her name?"
"Heh…"
"Unknown."
Natasha's eyes welled up with tears.
"Kill him. I don't want to—"
BOOM!
Before she could finish, the entire Red Room base exploded behind them. The shockwave rocked the platform violently as cracks split across its surface.
Ha… ha… ha…
Dreykov chuckled, then laughed at himself. He looked at Smith Doyle and said:
"I didn't know you could fly."
"I had planned to blow all of you up. Guess I'll just die with my Red Room."
He'd given up after seeing Smith fly in and snatch him off the jet.
"Let's see if you can fly with two passengers," he sneered, eyeing the unconscious Yelena and Natasha.
But Smith Doyle moved in a flash. He snatched the control pad from Dreykov's hand and snapped off the finger with the ID ring.
"AHHH!!"
Dreykov howled in agony. "No… how did you know?!"
Smith didn't respond. He simply hurled Dreykov back toward the burning wreckage.
"Go to hell with your Red Room. Say hi to Mephisto for me."
BOOM!
Dreykov vanished into the flames.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM
The base began to collapse. Smith secured the control pad and the ring, then turned to Natasha.
"We need to go."
He scooped Yelena into his left arm. Natasha stepped in on the right, wrapping her arms around him.
With Yelena on one side and Natasha on the other, Smith Doyle took off, soaring away from the crumbling base.
BOOM!
The Red Room exploded behind them in a final, earth-shattering blast, reduced to nothing but rubble.
A single tear slid down Natasha's cheek.
The past... was finally over.