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Shadow Assassins	By : williewildkat Category: 1 through F > Bourne Supremacy Views: 953 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Bourne Supremacy or characters in it! No money is made and all is for entertainment purposes only

Chapter List
- 1-Shadow Assassins
- 1
Assassin - The killing of a person or persons, normally a high profile figure, often for political reasons. Can also be done for military, ideological, to gain financial means, or to avenge a grievance.
Shadow - Darkness or to follow covertly...
The windows of the villa were swung wide open allowing the dry but appealing breeze roll off the Mediterranean Sea, rushing over the bare skin of the woman lying still on the simple bed. The curtains fluttered in the gentle air, dancing up and around like clouds giving a deceiving appearance to the scene. Her right shoulder was smothered in layers of thick white gauze which were compacted with wide strips of tape. Splotches of crimson and brown peeked through the top though beneath the surface a deeper shade of burgundy consumed the pristine white.
Her eyes were closed thanks in part to the heavy sedation which roamed her veins, blocking the agonizing pain of hours before. The plain alabaster walls were at peace yet hours before her agonizing screams had shattered the tranquility. The bloodstained shirt and jacket were nothing more than a pile of ash and strips, eliminating the evidence.
Kirill watched in silence with the Walther P99 resting on the stand, ready to go in an instant. The chase had brought them both to Barcelona where their paths had crossed with Jason Bourne's. The Russian knew it wasn't chance or dumb luck the American was there. It was his hand or rather compact sniper rifle that shredded her shoulder with one shot. Kirill had spotted the blonde assassin as his finger pulled back firing the waiting bullet. He had not been fast enough.
The whiskey did little to numb her agony as she drank then poured it over the gaping wound. Blood had mixed with dark mahogany spilling over her clothes and choking the air with iron, liquor, and gunpowder. The car ride had been literal Hell as each bump and jitter caused her let out a piercing scream. The moment he arrived at the wayward villa, she had already slipped behind the veil of unconsciousness, giving the irritated Russian the quiet his ears had ached for.
No one gets to kill you….But me…
He had repeated in his mind while haphazardly stitching the perfect circles on either side. After hunting her down across several countries and continents, there was no way someone else was going to covet his prize. They had a score to settle after all. Sure, he could put on bullet between her eyes right then and there. Cover her face with a pillow then press the muzzle to the thick encasement of down and cotton then pull the trigger. But what fun would that be? No, she had proven to be cunning and resourceful, ditching him in Bern, New Orleans, Johannesburg, and London before time had stepped over to his side.
The dark alley provided the perfect camouflage for Kirill as she darted down the brick encased street. Their game of cloak and dagger had reached its climax as they stalked the other through the medieval and Roman infrastructure. Today she would die.
"Comrade, I know you're here," she muttered under her breath. Her eyes continuously scanned above, below, and at her level, knowing her foe could have anything lying in wait.
His handsome features only tightened deeper as concentration settled in. His sight had lined up the perfect shot. One bullet to her throat and it would all be over.
"This is where we part my Black Hawk," he prepared to end it all but something made him look up to see Jason Bourne perched on the ledge of the adjacent building. The sniper rifle was trained on her as well! The American was too far for him to take the shot so Kirill charged from his hiding place catching her attention.
She pivoted around with gun on the Russian not questioning why he was lunging for her. Before she could complete the shot, a loud pop cracked her ears. The pain had yet materialized as her body pumped nerve killing adrenaline, halting the first sensations of suffering. Kirill halted to see the white form hugging shirt turn bright red before his eyes. The rich cerulean rings turned dull and listless until all that remained was a pair of dirty sapphires. Her arms went limp releasing the Glock from her hold. It clattered against the ancient brick and stone. She dropped to her knees with eyes lifting towards the sky.
"Bourne," she whispered before collapsing in the center of the road.
Several hours had past.
The sun dipped over the Western skies darkening the small room. Kirill finished off the last of the vodka, silently cursing the fact there was no more. Thoughts of killing his nemesis gathered like a spring storm, growing louder and larger with each minute that passed.
No, he wanted to revel in the thrill of the hunt, like times past before the fall of the Wall. The fear in his victims' eyes was a sweet reward as they pathetically pleaded and begged to be spared. They had families they would scream but Kirill could've cared less. His hearing tuned out the whimpers and shrieks only to resurface at the emergence of silence. Besides, this woman, Black Hawk, had demonstrated to be a worthy adversary. He had become intrigued by her though he wouldn't openly say it.
The Russian's thoughts were jolted at the first groan coming from his left. She was beginning to come around. Her side, the good side, shifted up supporting the injured part. Her left arm locked down on the mattress as her hips and legs granted leverage while her bottom carefully scooted back against the headboard. Her breathing was hitched but calm as her eyes darted down to the oozing dressings.
"Son of a bitch," she growled as the pain started to fill the severed fibers. "Bastard…."
"You are awake," Kirill stayed planted in the chair.
"No, I have sleep movement disorder. Of course I'm awake! You're a sharp one Comrade." Her voice was saturated with sarcasm. Kirill narrowed his eyes leaving two slits of rich chocolate stabbing towards her. She rolled her eyes then scanned the tiny but orderly room for anything to kill the pain.
"Got any whiskey? Or maybe some Codeine? I'd take a Vicodin at this point…."
"No," he flatly answered.
"Fine," she huffed and closed her eyes. "Wouldn't be the first time I had to ride out the pain."
She may have been debilitated by Bourne but her mouth had been left unscathed. Kirill simply stared at her as one eye opened in his direction. He knew that look as he had seen it cast upon his own features. The woman was observing, studying him. The wrinkles in her forehead were erased while her fingers drummed against the curvature of her torso. Her body pushed back into the pillows, getting comfortable in the narrow bed.
"Back there...At the villa...You could've left me for dead but you didn't...why?"
Her inquisitive tone caught the Russian off guard. Glints of confusion dotted her eyes, something that he interpreted as a weakness in some.
"Because I want to be the one who kills you first," his answer came with a tiny smirk.
"Take a number Comrade," she rebuffed. "Because there's a line ahead of you."
Her mouth broke into a bright grin which only goaded Kirill even further. She knew how to get under the man's skin.
This is going to be a three part series and other Bourne figures will be popping up :)
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Shadow Assassins