Infiltration and Assassination

"Alright... so what's the plan?"

Hiding in the shadows, Natasha and Stark crouched behind a corner, their eyes locked onto the grand estate ahead.

That was the Mandarin's stronghold—an infamous mastermind who had thrown the entire world into chaos. Naturally, Natasha took this mission seriously.

"Plan? What plan?" Stark gave her a confused look. "Come on, we're the Avengers. Trust me, there won't be much security in there. We just break in and take him out."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Straight in?"

"Straight in."

"Wow. This is probably the most reckless plan I've ever followed in my career." Natasha smirked, shrugged, and stealthily moved toward the entrance of the estate.

With precise movements, she darted into a blind spot near the guards. A quick flick of her wrist, and a tiny blue device shot out, striking the guard on the right.

Simultaneously, she leaped into action, wrapping her legs around the other guard's neck, twisting with a sharp motion, snapping his spine and dropping him instantly.

The first guard trembled violently from the electric shock, foam bubbling at his mouth before his body collapsed to the ground, convulsing uncontrollably.

"Wow! No wonder you managed to infiltrate my company without me noticing. You really are something else," Stark whispered as he caught up, staring at the unconscious bodies.

"I thought we were past that already," Natasha scoffed, rolling her eyes before slipping into the estate, heading straight for the main chamber.

"Tch."

Stark followed a few steps behind, keeping just enough distance to let Natasha move freely without interference.

Another swift movement—Natasha flicked her wrist, launching a needle straight into a patrolling guard's neck. Before he could react, she was already upon another, snapping his neck cleanly.

As they progressed, she remained in the lead, cutting down each obstacle in their path with silent efficiency, while Stark trailed behind, marveling at how effortless she made it look.

Finally, they reached the last checkpoint before the main chamber—two burly men standing guard by a circular pool.

Without hesitation, Natasha fired two needles. One struck a guard in the temple, the other hit the base of the skull. Both men dropped instantly—one collapsed onto the ground, the other splashed into the water.

"Well, that was the easiest mission I've ever been on."

Natasha smirked as she stepped forward, pushing open the doors to the main chamber.

"Hah! This is just pathetic."

Stark followed, shaking his head at the lifeless bodies scattered behind them.

Note to self—if I ever build another house, I'm putting Jarvis in charge of security. Land, air, sea—everything covered. No way I'm letting my place get infiltrated this easily.

Inside, Natasha wasted no time. A man sat in a chair, his back to her. Without hesitation, she grabbed his head and snapped his neck in one fluid motion.

A blonde woman, tied to a chair in the corner, gasped in horror.

"Stand up. Turn around," Natasha ordered, her gun aimed directly at the woman's head.

Shaking, the woman obeyed, too terrified to resist.

A swift strike—Natasha knocked her unconscious with a clean chop to the neck before pressing forward.

"Whoa! Even the terrorists have some hot ladies around here," Stark quipped, eyeing the unconscious woman before grabbing a gun from a nearby table.

When they stepped into the bedroom, Stark found himself face to face with the so-called global terror icon—Mandarin himself.

"Beautiful lady, are you here for money or... pleasure? I can offer both."

Mandarin's confident smirk vanished the moment he laid eyes on Stark. His lips pressed shut in an instant.

"This is Mandarin?"

Stark raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

"Well, I am Mandarin, but also… not really Mandarin."

The man chuckled nervously, offering a disarming smile.

"What?"

The infamous terrorist leader, the face of chaos itself, was now acting like a cowardly actor caught in a bad audition.

Stark couldn't wrap his head around it.

"Mandarin, do you think playing dumb will get you out of this?" He cocked his gun. "Cut the crap, you son of a—"

"NO! WAIT! Don't shoot!"

Mandarin—no, the man pretending to be Mandarin—flinched in terror. "I swear! I'm just an actor!"

"...What?"

Stark's expression darkened. A terrible realization crept over him.

"Then where's the real Mandarin?"

All of this—breaking in, eliminating guards, getting to this moment—had it all been for nothing? Had they just walked into a setup?

"No, no, you don't get it. I am Mandarin. There's no real or fake one—just me," the man insisted.

Stark's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the gun.

"Listen, I was hired to play Mandarin. That's all! The real mastermind is someone else!"

Natasha studied the man carefully. He didn't look like a criminal mastermind. No steel in his eyes, no weight to his presence.

He was just… a performer.

"Who hired you?" she asked.

The man's shoulders tensed. He swallowed hard.

"Aldrich Killian."

"Son of a—!"

Stark clenched his jaw. "I should have seen this coming."

"How did he find you? Why are you working for him? What's his plan?"

"He… promised me things," the man admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have… certain vices. He said he'd supply more, as long as I did my part."

He hesitated, glancing nervously between them before continuing.

"But that bastard never trusted me. He never told me anything about his real plans. And honestly? I didn't care. I was just here to enjoy the perks of the job."

A dreamy smile crossed his face.

"The women, the wealth, the power… Ahh, it was nice while it lasted."

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