Party
A stunning woman silently emerged from one of the yacht's cabins. Her hair was red as fire, lips crimson, and her body looked like it had been sculpted by the gods"wrapped in a black evening dress that hugged every curve with lethal elegance.
Her heels clicked faintly on the deck, but her eyes moved cautiously, as if she were either escaping from something… or searching for someone.
Then she saw him.
Leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, a mocking smile playing on his lips, Owen watched her like he'd been standing there all night.
"You know… I'm starting to feel stalked "he said without looking away". If you keep showing up every time I breathe, I might start thinking you're following me.
"Maybe you just have a special talent for wandering into dangerous places without realizing it "Natasha replied, not breaking her stride, though her eyes hardened as she recognized him.
Owen tilted his head with a look of mild annoyance"just as the sound of multiple footsteps began echoing from both ends of the hallway.
"Ah, of course… I walked straight into the wolf's mouth. Like an idiot "he muttered.
Natasha frowned. She was about to respond when she heard them too. Footsteps. Fast. Precise. Getting closer. Surrounding them.
Owen slowly raised his hands, calm and unbothered. Natasha looked at him curiously… until armed men appeared from both corners, weapons raised, ready to kill.
"Would you believe me if I said I was just looking for the bathroom? I don't even know her "Owen said with a look of pure innocence.
"Really? I thought we had fun last night… "Natasha shot back with a venomous smile, raising her hands as well.
"As the wise Mr. Sword once said: "Women only delay the moment I unsheathe my blade to decapitate my enemies." "Owen murmured, one eyebrow raised.
"Who the hell said that? "Natasha asked as the men advanced.
"I just made it up "Owen grinned, right before he felt the cold barrel of a gun press against his back.
"Move "one of the guards ordered.
They obeyed.
They walked for a while through the yacht's corridors, which felt more like a floating palace than a boat. Eventually, they reached the captain's bridge, where the man still stood at the helm, his eyes lost in the horizon. They were shoved into a room behind him.
The moment they crossed the door, the stench hit them. A blend of cigar smoke, sweat, and dirty money.
The room itself was a shrine to excess: weapons hung like trophies, drugs piled in glass cases, gold bars laid on marble tables.
In the center, sitting like a king on his throne, a man smoked slowly.
His skin… was violet. Not metaphorically. Literally violet. Or rather, purple.
Owen stared at him. Something about him felt familiar… but he'd been stuck in this world so long that most of his Marvel knowledge had faded. Thirty years without internet erases a lot.
"At last, we meet "the purple man said, exhaling smoke". The woman who insists on hunting me… and the man I have no idea who he is.
"Phil Coulson. Pleasure to meet you "Owen replied boldly.
Natasha shot him a death glare before turning her serious gaze to their target.
This guy was dangerous. She knew that. He could control minds with pheromones. She had come prepared"special filters in her nose protected her.
But Owen was a problem. He'd shown strength and reflexes that rivaled her own. If he fell under the purple man's control… everything would go to hell.
"I don't care who you are "the man interrupted with disdain". You're on my boat. You came to bother me. So I'll ask something simple: kill each other. That way, my men won't have to get their hands dirty.
He stood calmly, walked to the door, and just before leaving, turned back:
"You may begin.
He left. But the guards stayed. Watching. Waiting for the fight.
Natasha turned on her heels, shifting into a combat stance. Her eyes locked onto Owen.
But he just smiled. And winked.
Then, quick as a magic trick, he threw a small button torn from his shirt. It hit the light switch.
Darkness.
Noise.
Dull thuds.
Bones breaking.
Gunshots flashing like lightning in a storm.
And then…
Light.
Owen stood by the switch. Natasha, straddling one of the guards, was choking him with a hold before slamming him unconscious to the ground.
"Shorts under a dress… kind of kills the elegance, don't you think? "Owen remarked.
"Sorry to disappoint your fantasies "Natasha replied, picking up a weapon from the floor without missing a beat.
Owen did the same.
Both exited the room, guns raised, covering each other's backs.
In front of them, the captain lay on the ground, a bullet wound in his back.
Owen glanced at the wall. A bullet hole pierced through from the room where the fight had taken place.
"This guy's got the worst luck "he muttered.
"Move "Natasha ordered, running after the purple man.
"I just came here to have fun "Owen sighed, following her with obvious reluctance.
As soon as they crossed the door, new enemies came at them.
Without hesitation, they opened fire. Fast. Precise. Then ducked behind the doorway for cover.
Bullets whistled past, striking wood and metal.
Owen gestured. Natasha nodded. He dropped to one knee, rolled out under the gunfire, shooting while moving, then dove to the side, continuing to fire.
The enemies focused on him.
Natasha took the opportunity and emerged from the other side.
In one second, it was all over.
Bodies on the floor. Smoke in the air.
Two figures, like nightmares born from tactical training, ready for the next round.
They moved again without wasting a second.
Owen picked up a rifle from a fallen enemy, grabbed a few magazines, and shoved them into his pocket. Without looking, he tossed one behind him.
Natasha caught it mid-air.
"You've got two bullets left "he said calmly.
She frowned, swapped the magazine in her gun, and gave the old one a quick glance…
Exactly two bullets left.
She looked at Owen again, this time with a mix of curiosity and approval.
"And what are you? Rambo with style?" she asked with a half-smile.
Owen just winked at her before moving forward with his rifle raised. Just then, two men appeared from a side hallway. Without stopping, Owen fired twice. Clean hits. Two heads burst. Two bodies hit the ground.
With a quick signal, he indicated for Natasha to stay behind him as they reached an intersection. He crouched down, leaned half his body out, and fired twice more. Dry sounds. More bodies dropped.
He stood up and signaled again. They were about to move forward when Owen suddenly stopped. He pivoted on his heels, aimed at a metal door behind them, and fired twice at the same spot.
A single hole formed… and a second later, the door opened just as a man was coming through. He dropped dead instantly.
Natasha stared at him, incredulous.
"Double shot to pierce steel?" she murmured, impressed.
"Don't get all starry-eyed, sweetheart. The party's not over yet," Owen replied without looking back.
The hallway filled with panic. People ran in all directions, screaming. Seeing them armed, some thought they were the attackers and dropped to the floor.
"Idiots, find a safe place! I'm a soldier!" Owen growled, pointing out cover spots while shielding Natasha.
"Owen, you damn bastard!" a voice yelled amid the chaos. Nicolas emerged from the crowd, visibly pissed.
"I had a feeling a weird invite like this would end badly…" he muttered, just before Owen tossed him a pistol.
"Her boss," he said, pointing back at Natasha with his thumb.
"Cecilia?" Nicolas said, surprised to see her. Natasha, however, didn't take her eyes off Owen.
"So you noticed," she said, narrowing her eyes.
"What idiot wouldn't? Even he figured it out," Owen said, nodding toward Nicolas. "An invitation from someone who never talks to the general… suspicious. Tell her I'm not interested in joining S.H.I.E.L.D… But if you ask me, I might make an exception. Fair warning though… I'm expensive."
"Modest as always," Natasha murmured, amused.
Nicolas examined the gun he'd caught, quickly loaded it, raised his arm, and fired twice. Two men hiding among the civilians dropped instantly.
"Still haven't lost your aim," Owen commented.
"Of course not. Remember who trained me. When I was five, my dad gave me an air rifle and made me hit the same vine every day… every damn day," Nicolas snorted. "Any other kid would be thrilled with a gift like that. Not me."
A tiger father doesn't raise a puppy son. Nicolas was a renowned surgeon, but his training had been nearly as harsh as Owen's. Though he never enrolled in the academy, his father was an instructor there. While Owen received personalized attention, Nicolas thought he'd be spared… but ended up going through the same drills anyway.
He didn't have Owen's physical strength, but as a sniper, he was exceptional. His perfect eyesight helped him just as much with a scalpel as with a trigger.
The three of them moved toward the back of the yacht. A speedboat was speeding away. In it, the Purple Man.
Owen raised his rifle, his enhanced vision giving him a perfect shot.
"Want me to kill him?" he asked.
"We need him alive. He has valuable intel for S.H.I.E.L.D.," Natasha replied.
Owen clicked his tongue in annoyance but squeezed the trigger. A clean shot to the shoulder. The bastard wouldn't get away easily.
From the moment he entered the room, Owen knew. The smell… those pheromones. If the guy had given him an order right then, he would've obeyed without hesitation. But a few seconds were enough for Owen's body to adapt. Enough to wake the beast.
"Hey…" Nicolas said, looking ahead. "Isn't the yacht a little too close to the dock?"
The three of them exchanged glances. The captain was dead.
"Shit!" they shouted in unison before running to the cabin.
Owen arrived just in time to cut the engine, but not soon enough. The yacht slammed into the dock and kept going until it got stuck, half the hull resting on land.
"Wait…" Nicolas said, peeking over the side. "This place…"
He ran to the edge of the dock and looked down. A heart-wrenching scream escaped his chest.
"Noooo!!! MY CAR!!"
His beautiful white Mustang was… crushed. Buried under a section of the hull.
Owen had to hold him back to keep him from throwing himself into the void.
"Easy… it's not like it can get worse," he said.
"What do you mean it can't?! It was a limited edition! It had a name!"
"A name?"
"Yes! Her name was Alba!"
Natasha couldn't help but laugh. Between bullets, pheromones, and dead cars… at least they hadn't been bored.
"Still saying it's not worth joining S.H.I.E.L.D.?" she said to Owen with a sideways smile.
"Mmm… If the missions include watching you laugh like that… I might reconsider."
Natasha raised an eyebrow, amused.
After parting ways, Owen and Nicolas walked down the dock as sirens bathed the area in red and blue lights. Police swarmed the yacht, and among them, a man in a flawless suit and relaxed smile made his way forward flashing an FBI badge.
"Agent Coulson, narcotics division," he announced casually, showing his fake credentials. "Federal seizure operation. Stay back."
Thanks to that carefully crafted excuse, Owen and Nicolas avoided a flood of questions, paperwork, and legal trouble. Coulson exchanged a quick glance with Owen, and everything was covered.
Meanwhile, Nicolas stood beside the yacht, utterly devastated.
"My car…" he murmured, eyes glassy. "It was white… shiny… I waxed it yesterday!"
"It was just a car," Owen said with a shrug, though he still had to stop him from diving onto the wreckage of his crushed Mustang beneath the yacht's bow.
...….
Elsewhere in the city, Natasha climbed into Coulson's vehicle, where he was already waiting with the engine running. As they moved through traffic, she pulled out her phone and dialed a secure number.
"He turned it down," she reported firmly when she heard Fury's voice on the other end. "Although he doesn't seem to mind helping me from time to time. Yes… It's very likely that the serum Victor was working on has been completed. I'm almost certain Owen Colt is now a super soldier."
She paused for a moment. Then, in a more neutral tone, added:
"Understood."
She hung up.
Phil, with his usual calm sarcasm, broke the silence:
"Incredible. The super soldier serum used to be practically mythical. There were only two known cases: Captain America… and Red Skull. Now I feel like there are super soldiers even in cereal commercials."
Natasha glanced at him sideways, serious.
"And General Ross…" Coulson added in a lower voice. "That guy would do anything to replicate it. And it looks like he's succeeding."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the dock, Owen silently watched Nicolás, who was still sobbing over his crushed car. The scene would've been comical… if it weren't so pathetic.
With the same calm he had shown under fire minutes earlier, Owen brought the phone to his ear.
"Fury probably already knows about the serum," he said in a neutral tone, as if commenting on the weather.
"Of course he does," replied a deep, condescending voice on the other end. The General. His tone was dry and direct. "This mission… was probably his way of testing you."
There was a brief silence before he added:
"If you decide to work with them, I won't stand in your way. We already have our deal."
"Only if I feel like it," Owen replied indifferently. "But I don't trust Fury."
"And you're right not to," the General growled, with a hint of approval. "Oh, and tell that idiot son of mine to hurry up and get home. He's got a blind date tomorrow, and his mother's already threatening to find someone better."
He hung up without waiting for a response.
Owen lowered the phone, looked at Nicolás, then at the grounded yacht… and let out a sigh.
"Guess you'll have to borrow your dad's car."
"It'll never be the same!" Nicolás whined.
Owen simply shook his head and started walking.