12361/Baby it's cold outside

Baby it's cold outside
Date of Scene:	09 August 2022
Location:	<text>
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Yelena Belova, Zinda Blake

---

Yelena Belova has posed:
The flight from Skullcrusher Mountain is one that holds brief bursts of conversation, then silence.. and conversation again, but moreso, the checking of arms and armaments gained from the raid and subsequent destruction of the HYDRA base. One of the passengers in the back distances herself from the crowd, taking the opportunity to look at the build and make of the sword/staff/chainsaw abomination that was her gain. The guns are a touch larger than the young woman in white leather jumpsuit would like, but one is set aside for its potential, the other discarded from her consideration.

Yelena leans back, glances out the window, and after perhaps a handful of minutes after a good cruising speed and altitude is reached, she unbuckles her harness and rises. In fluid motions, she's got two guncases in hand, and grabs a parachute from the back of the hold. Red lights begin to buzz in the cockpit announcing the overriding and opening of the back cargo door. In the next heartbeat, Yelena is gone in the darkness. Tracking has her in freefall for a few thousand feet before the parachute opens, and she's paragliding, riding wind currents until she hits the ground.

***

There is no word from the white-suited Yelena for days. Any who would try to reach her has no record, no tracking of her movements. Nothing on the wires, on the underground feed gives a hint as to movements in the Antarctic, so her whereabouts and ultimate ending is a mystery.

Such is the life and work of a Black Widow?

***

In the small, secret Russian Satellite surveillance camp, all hell has broken loose, and not in any way, shape or form contained for days. All communication has been cut off, and the other two GLONASS stations are too far away to render aid. Sure, they'd sent attack helicopters, but resources are scarce, and the two that were sent are burning piles of wreckage, along with the bodies strewn nearby.

<<Andrei, you owe me,>> is whispered furtively from a hole. There is a single helicopter that is on a makeshift bit of ice that doubles as a helipad, and Yelena has the entrance and egress covered. The building/satellite complex is smoking a dull, black smoke, thus marking where it had been. <<It is colder than Siberia here.>>

<<That is exactly where they will send me if they find out, Yelena.>>

<<I will do one better if you don't come.>> A threat that is easily carried out, though now she mutters under her breath, "If I find him.."

Cue... three contacts deep. And counting.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake isn't used to people just -jumping- out of aircraft she is flying and disappearing without a trace. Not that the Widow agent is anything resembling her responsibility, of course. She just doesn't like it. People think of the Blackhawks only as a combat air squadron, but while the team had plenty of recognition for their air missions they were just as successful for their ground endeavors.

But nobody talks about those.

After Antarctica, Zinda makes a few calls. Then a few more, and a couple more after that. Finally she connects with a friend of a friend who has a cousin who once went to school with a guy...

And now Lady Blackhawk is flying a borrowed stormchaser aircraft from Argentina, heading due South. Her directions are vague ramblings and scribbles written on the back of several cocktail napkins, with a couple estimated compass bearings inked in the margins.

The old C-130 sputters and coughs again, and begins to trail even more smoke. "Well I s'pose I can still land this thing on -2- engines jus' fine..."

Yelena Belova has posed:
The alien rifle that Yelena had chosen is working well. The first burst is a surprise in terms of handling. Sighting in is a no-brainer, and it is easy enough to pick off stragglers that hadn't fallen under her direct ministrations.

She's not pinned, no. Not really. She just doesn't care to take the run towards the last working Mi-24, which is currently hotly contested.

The black smoke should be like a giant signal flare, but more old school, when taken with the vastness of the open tundra. <<You know you will die, right?>> is called out in Russian, her tones conversational in the lull of weapons fire. <<It is fate.>> Her voice lowers again, cursing softly in English. Some languages are perfect for it, and Yelena is finding that English is just getting better and better for it.

Off in the distance, there is a thrum-sputter of a large turbo-prop..

"Oh.. bozhe moi.."

Zinda Blake has posed:
The rickety C-130 shudders as it flies over a ridge, and down below Zinda sees the base where there shouldn't BE a base. Except she knew right where to look, almost. "Yeeee-hawwww!" she cries out. Mic on or mic off, there's probably no one listening right now anyway. Except she -did- have the comm frequency set to the same one the team was using for the volcano op.

The C-130 coughs again, and Zinda does her level best to memorize the landscape before she becomes a part of it. "That an Mi-24? Always wondered how one 'o them things would handle. 'Cept they're Soviet..." Her voice trails off. They're Soviet, and she's flying a converted American cargo plane.

The C-130 is an all-weather, all-terrain transport, designed to land under ridiculous circumstances and take off again. At least when it has all four engines working. Right now, Zinda is down to two engines and she is flying over what is probably a hostile base. She looks down. Gunfire. Check. Definitely hostile.

Another shudder, but she doesn't lose the third engine. Nope, the prop keeps right on turning; it's just that the engine is now on fire.

Banking sharply, she starts descending ito a steep spiral and lowers the landing gear.

Yelena Belova has posed:
It is absolutely a base where there is no base, and other than for the black smoke that rises in the air from parts, it's well camouflaged from the air. On casual glance, it'd be invisible, with the winter whiteness. And, after all, who would really look here?

The 'bozhe moi' is certainly in response to seeing the workhorse of pretty much every country that the United States trades with. Yelena recognizes it immediately for what it is; standard, won't really fall out of the air unless one tries very, very hard, and even then? Things can be done.

The pop-ups that shoot at the overflying C-130 are sniped by Yelena, if nothing else, it succeeds in getting their heads back down. "No, you will not shoot at that. Could be friendly." Or, could be someone else and she's just in the way.

Wouldn't be the first time.

It's on the approach, then, that Yelena leaves her bit of cover, and begins to run, the first steps a jog before her speed brings her to a race to where she fully believes the aircraft will be landing. There's not a whole lot of cover in the distance, and dodging is really her //best// option, which is to say, the worst option.

Still?

Zinda Blake has posed:
The C-130 is descending rapidly; one might almost call it crashing. Yelena is running and dodging, losing sight of the plane momentarily. It's easy to spot again, however, because the flames from the third engine are spreading towards one of the wing tanks. It looks like it's going to hit wing-first, probably cartwheel from there and make a big hole in the ice.

The wing skids on the ice, but somehow doesn't catch. Righting itself, the big cargo bird gives another shudder...

Then it just stalls out and drops the last 30 feet to belly-flop onto the ice.

Crumpling into a heap, the plane folds in upon itself in slow motion as it grinds to a stop. And moments before the fireball erupts along the main wing, a figure in white survival gear tumbles away from the doomed aircraft.

Yelena Belova has posed:
The sight of the bird as it begins to crash actually has Yelena stopping short just to //stare// at it. Her shoulders slump, her mouth hangs open slightly, and her head cants as she watches it in desperate slow motion.

"Whoooooa.." is murmured, and she nods approvingly. "Would be good way to die." Except for the fact that a white-clad figure escapes from it before it becomes a fireball, sending smoke and flames into the sky to rival the now defunct satellite base.

To be honest, the heat from her distance is warm and comfortable; but should she get closer, it's really not fit for a marshmallow roast. Her hand rises over her face to shield her eyes from the glow of the fire, even as she starts making her way forward. The muzzle flashes gain her attention, and Yelena reaches for her thigh-holstered pistol, squeezing off a couple of rounds just after it's drawn.

"Hey! Was very clever, exploding your aeroplane." She pronounces the word with every syllable, "I wonder what will be done for encore."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake is trudging in the general direction of the base when she spots Yelena heading away from it. Towards the now-burning plane. Zinda is wearing white all-weather gear, including parka and shooting gloves. There's a combat shotgun slung over one shoulder and a bandolier of shells over the other.

"Well butter my butt an' call me a biscuit!" she calls out with a laugh. "You ain't dead after all!"

Adjusting the shotgun sling, she looks back at the remains of the aircraft, now burning freely. "That wasn't my -worst- landing, actually..." Her voice trails off a little as she watches the cargo plane burn for a moment.

"So you ready to be rescued yet, or what? Figure we might hafta get a lil' creative an' go off the plan a bit from here on out, though."

Yelena Belova has posed:
"You..." and Yelena stops short, her head canting again, though a smile grows upon her face. She begins to nod slowly, and gestures towards the plane, or rather, what //had// been the plane. "I could say same thing. I have seen worse. Was very graceful. But-"

Glancing back towards the (former) base, she waves and begins her run, indicating that she really should be followed. "There is helicopter. We have been playing tag for it for the last couple of hours. Was fun, but.." She allows for Zinda to keep pace, and locating a spot where the blonde Russian believes they have a modicum of cover, "You can fly helicopter? If not, I can. Is Soviet. I have flown them since I was 12." Of course, the follow-up is, "Then you can gun. Very fun, that."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake laughs and falls into step beside Yelena, the two women running across the winter wonderland. Zinda isn't a spec ops trained agent, but she keeps up pretty well for someone who flew in the Second World War.

"Well my plan sorta involved me flyin' us out on that hunk o' metal that's on fire back there, so yeah. Minor change of plans."

Zinda unshoulders the shotgun as they approach, jacking a shell into the chamber. "Honey, I can fly anything. But if you got a hankerin' for flyin', I'd be happy to take my turn at the guns. Or we could flip for it."