Chapter Text
The dank little facility hidden deep beneath the walls of the Novgorod Kremlin had never known anything even closely resembling joy. The atrocities that had taken place within the winding hallways were too many to count. It was where the idea for what would eventually become the Red Room had first been birthed all those years ago. It had never been anything more than a place of darkness and horror.
So why couldn't Alexei Shostakov stop himself from laughing?
The big man's howls of mirth echoed throughout the underground bunker, along with the shrieks of the guards he barrelled through on the way to his objective. They shot at him desperately, innumerable holes punched into the dismal taupe walls as a rain of bullets ricocheted off the star adorning the red and silver shield he carried. An exuberant grin could just barely be seen through the tangle of his scruffy, gray-streaked beard. A flash glinting off his gold teeth was the last thing the hapless goons saw before they were sent flying, piling up on the floor in a crumpled, unconscious heap.
During his adventure aboard the Red Room a few months ago, his form had been clumsy and sloppy, easily knocked around by Dreykov's little "experiment". That was only because he had been out of practice for so long, of course. He had been behind bars for 20 years after all, so it was only natural that he would be a bit rusty. And of course he would have fought better if he had his trusty shield at the time. Even the great Captain America would be hard pressed to handle such a difficult fight without his own - a fact that he told anyone within earshot at any given moment. Repeatedly.
Out of a sense of daughterly duty (though really to get him to finally shut up about it) Yelena had tracked down his old shield for him. He was appalled to hear that she had not in fact found it in a museum like he was expecting, but rather collecting dust inside a crate in an old KGB warehouse. Crimes against a national treasure aside, he was glad to have his trusty weapon back in his hands. He liked to think that his old friend was just as eager to get back into action as he was, metallic thuds ringing out merrily as it made impact with yet another enemy in their path.
"Come on! Is that the best Mother Russia has to offer these days??" he roared as the last man in front of him fell, now nothing between him and his target - the reinforced steel door at the end of the hall. It was too thick for even him to break through, but that wouldn't be a problem provided that the intel he had gotten was any good. He entered the code he had received into the pad next to the door, his grin cocky as he heard the satisfying click of the lock opening.
"Hah! Too easy." he chuckled, his fingers inches away from the doorknob. Suddenly, Alexei felt enough electricity to knock out an elephant shooting across his body. His grip on the shield went slack, sending it clattering to the floor. He glanced behind him, teeth grit in pain as he saw the source of the unexpected attack. Three more guards had come into the hallway, all of them big, burly men. Alexei recognized the familiar red crackle of electricity around the wrist of the one in the middle. It would seem that some of the Black Widow technology had found its way into new hands after the Red Room fell…
"This is who has been causing everyone so much trouble?" The guard sniggered to his cohorts who each had their automatic machine guns aimed at Alexei. "All of those spies the Widows have and the best they could send was some fat old man in a knock off Captain America costume?"
Alexei's blue eyes flashed dangerously, and if the guards had been smarter, they would have known what a costly mistake they had just made.
"No…" he growled, slowly turning to face his opponents. He could see the smarmy expression of the man who had just insulted him quickly flicker into fear, raising his arm to shoot him with another stunning blast. But he wasn't quick enough. The moment he fired off another shot, Alexei stomped on the lip of his shield, kicking it forward as it flipped up in front of him. The red bolt bounced off of it, and in the span of a single breath he launched himself after the shield, catching it in mid air.
He brought it crashing down into the center guard's face with a sickening, but quite satisfying crunch. Alexei spun on his heels, deftly catching the other two in a spinning lariat. They each slammed forcefully into the walls beside them before slowly sliding down onto the ground to join their cohort, all three of the unconscious men sporting bloody faces after Alexei gave them an impromptu nose-job.
"They sent the Red Guardian." he muttered, looking down at them with a mix of disgust and pity. "And I am not… well, alright, I'll give you fat..." he said, ruefully patting his gut. "But I am not that old!" he huffed, making his way back to the door and pushing it open.
" Bozhe Moi …" he gasped at what was waiting for him inside.
In the months after Dreykov's death, Melina had managed to pick up a lot of panicked chatter from the surviving members of the Red Room's crime empire throughout Russia. Of particular interest was buzz about retrieving an important asset that was being kept beneath the Novgorod Kremlin, but the trail went cold after that. Even Milena had no idea what it was. Dreykov had been many things, but the key to his success over the years had been his extreme paranoia. Members of the Red Room were only told as much as they needed to know, and this was apparently not something he felt the need to include her in.
With no real information about his target other than to either retrieve or destroy it before the other guys got it, Alexei wasn't sure what he had been expecting it to be. With these sorts of missions it was usually compromising data, or weaponry of some sort. There was even a chance that it was a clutch of experimental Widow assassins that were being developed in secret, which is why the pouches on his suit were currently packed with vials of the mind control antidote.
But he had to admit, the last thing that he was expecting to find here was a ghost.
Inside the room was a figure suspended by a large machine, the gaunt face and sunken eye sockets of a skeleton peering out from behind a white cowl. It was only as Alexei crept closer to it that he could see it was actually a mask of some sort, the upper teeth of it sharpened to almost look like fangs. The suit it was wearing was a mix of sky blue and orange, with thick bands of white connecting the two colors. There was something oddly familiar about it - something that Alexei felt he had seen recently in fact - but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.
However he was distracted by just how remarkably tight the suit was. The fabric clung to every inch of their chiseled, muscular torso, and the briefest glance further down left absolutely no doubt that the figure attached to the machine was male. In fact, the costume seemed like it was designed to emphasize that particular aspect of his anatomy. A pair of V-shaped briefs and white boots wrapped all the way up to the man's thighs, naturally drawing the viewer's eye smack dab to the center of his crotch...
Alexei shook his head, focusing back on the topic at hand, which was what to do with this man in the first place. More guards would be coming soon, so he didn't have the luxury of mulling this over for too long. If the Red Room considered this man an asset, it might be best to just dispose of him here and now, and be on his way. But Dreykov had hurt so many people over the years in his quest for world domination, and his list of victims had grown too large to count over the years. Was it possible that this strange looking man was also one, just like his daughters had been?
Just like he had been?
It was with that Alexei made up his mind, making his way over to the console of the machine.
"Okay my new scary-looking friend… I am going to be getting you out of here, so please, please do not attack me…" he muttered, his eyes glancing around nervously at the various monitors and buttons for something that could help him get the man down. Unsurprisingly there wasn't anything clearly labeled "release" in Russian, English, or otherwise, much to his annoyance.
Growling in frustration, he decided to go with his gut, mashing every button on the console until he found the right one. Eventually the machine gave a loud hiss as steam pumped from its joints. It then unceremoniously dropped the man flat on his face like a sack of potatoes, smacking the stone floor with a loud thud.
"Ah! Sorry, sorry!" Alexei gasped, making his way over to the prone figure. The man wasn't moving at all, and for a moment Alexei was horrified at the thought that whatever that machine was, perhaps it had actually been keeping him alive . He went over and gingerly nudged him with the tip of his boot.
" Privyet ? Hello? Are you uh… not dead?" he said cautiously as he used his foot to push the man onto his back. He remained motionless, and Alexei was beginning to think perhaps he really had killed him. He reached down to attempt to take the mask off of him and see if perhaps CPR would help, when suddenly a pair of dark, beady eyes flashed open behind the skull.
"Gah! Fucking…!" Alexei recoiled with a yelp, reaching into a pouch on his belt to grab the mind control antidote. He tossed it directly at the man's face, the vial exploding in a cloud of red dust. He coughed and sputtered, shaking his head weakly to try and get the tingling spores out of his eyes.
"Wh.. Wha… ?" the man grumbled weakly.
"Ah… Ahem. Good you are awake." Alexei said, doing his best to recover and strike a heroic pose. "You should be cured now and no longer under that pesky mind control, yes? I am sure this must all be very confusing for you. Maybe even a little bit scary. But you do not have to worry, because you have just been rescued by the Red Guardian himself. There is no need to thank me, I was just doing my-"
"What the HELL that for???" The man suddenly yelled. "Jesus H. CHRIST, you almost got glass in my eyes you idiot!!"
"Hey hey hey! What is that all about? I come here, I rescue you from being mind controlled, and this is the thanks you give to me?" Alexei said incredulously, his ego bruised by the strange man's apparent lack of gratitude.
"I wasn't being mind controlled, you big dolt! Why the hell would you even think that?" the man shot back, still laying stiff as a board on the floor. "Also while we're at it, just what the hell did you do to me, huh? Why can't I move?" he said, wriggling in vain though his limbs remained motionless.
"Me?? I did nothing to you! I found you hanging up from the ceiling like some kind of spooky Halloween decoration!" he said, gesticulating wildly up at the rafters and conveniently leaving out the part where he inadvertently made the guy take a twenty-foot drop onto the hard floor. "Although this might explain the whole ah… getup you have on. What is up with that, eh? I was not told this was going to be a costume party!"
The eyes behind the mask narrowed to slits. "Oh yeah? You could have fooled me. What are you supposed to be? The leader of Eastern Europe's Captain America fan club?"
How many times do I have to tell you people! I am not Captain America! I am the Red Guardian!!" he said, stomping his foot so hard that he shattered the stone tile beneath his foot, sending a cloud of dust and gravel everywhere. "For the love of… Does nobody in this country ever read a history book any more??" he huffed, crossing his arms.
"Sorry. Never heard of you." the man said flatly. "And I'm not from around these parts, Comrade . Here on more of a business trip, you could call it. But if you were anybody worth knowing about, I definitely would have heard of you. Trust me."
"Oh yeah? This is what you think huh??" Alexei's pale cheeks suddenly grew ruddy, his famously short temper on full display for this stranger. "I was sent here to recover some important asset but all I find is a great big ass!"
"Heh… Didn't think you'd gotten a good look at it." the man said, a low raspy chuckle coming from inside the skull mask.
"What?" Alexei said, momentarily sidetracked by the offhanded comment. Realization finally struck him, and his cheeks grew a shade redder. "Oh you are so very funny there. A regular Yakov Smirnoff. You know, I think maybe I like you better when you were silent. Maybe I just put you back where I found you for Dreykov's dogs to find, hmm?" he said, gesturing to the dormant machine.
The prone man tilted his head slightly to take a better look at it. From what he could tell, it was hooked up to some sort of computer that had been monitoring his brain activity. The places where his arms and legs had been suspended from were now spread wide open after Alexei had dropped him onto the floor. From the ends of them, hundreds of rows of ultra-fine needles could just barely be seen retracted inside the machine, a dull ache in his limbs matching up precisely with their location. A sickly yellow liquid oozed from the tips, noxious puddles beginning to form on the floor beneath them.
"Paralyzing neurotoxin… Dreykov you bastard…" he muttered under his breath as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place.
"Eh? What was that? You have more jokes to tell?" Alexei growled down at the man. "Go on, let me hear it then!"
"The only joke I can think of is the one I'm looking at." he said, glaring at the Russian. "Listen, Pushkin. You seem to be a bit of a simple guy, so I'll give you a little friendly advice. I'm the last man on Earth you ever want to make an enemy of."
"Oh no! I am so scared!" Alexei said, his hands pressed against his face in mock horror. "You are such a very big, dangerous threat to me lying on the floor like a limp fish!" he said, giving off a big guffawing belly laugh that echoed throughout the dingy room. "That is your best joke yet! You have balls my friend, I will give you that much. So tell me, who is so brave as to threaten the Red Guardian eh?"
"The name's Taskmaster. And if you've ever heard that name, you should know I don't make threats - I make promises."
With that, realization finally dawned on Alexei, smacking his forehead as the dots finally connected.
"Ah! That is why your outfit seems so familiar! Those colors… that skull… I should have realized!" he gasped. "Yes, I know Taskmaster!"
"Guess you're smarter than you look then." he said smugly. "Not that I can blame you of course. I mean, I'm a pretty big deal in…"
"But you are not Taskmaster." Alexei said plainly.
"Huh?" the man said, taken aback. "What do you mean? Of course I'm Taskmaster!"
"No. You are not."
"What the hell? Yes I am!"
"Mmm… no. I don't think so."
"What, do you need me to take out my driver's license to prove it to you??"
"...Your driver's license says 'Taskmaster' on it?"
"Of course not!! But I'm telling you! I. Am. Taskmaster!! This is fucking rediculous!"
"Woah hey man, do not shoot the messenger... I am just telling you what I know."
"Listen, I don't know what you think you know, but there's only one Taskmaster and you're looking at him!" the man said, the frustration in his voice growing more and more apparent as their exchange continued.
"I'm sorry but I fought Taskmaster just a few months ago, and it was not you!" Alexei laughed, amused by how worked up the man was getting over something so blatantly obvious. "She put up a good fight, mind you, but in the end the superior tactics and hardened fighting skills of the Red Guardian proved…"
"Wait wait wait, hold the goddamn boat!" The man's eyes went wide behind the skull mask. "Did you just say… SHE??" he said loudly. "This other Taskmaster… it wouldn't happen to be Dreykov's daughter, would it? That kid with the seriously messed up face?"
"Er… yes?" Alexei said, surprised that anybody else knew the identity of Dreykov's secret weapon. "Mind you it was hard to tell it was a woman underneath all that armor and, you know, the whole…" he trailed off, circling his hand around his face to represent the mask Antonia wore. "You know, yours isn't a very good copy of hers. Hers was a little bit more… ah what's the word… tactical? It is not a bad interpretation, but-"
"Stop." The man calling himself Taskmaster cut Alexei off sharply, a dangerous edge to his voice. His breathing grew more intense behind the mask, rattling through the skull's nostrils as his chest heaved in rapidly rising fury. "So you're telling me that Dreykov… that I've been… this whole time I was just a…"
An explosion of curses suddenly erupted from the man as he began shouting at the top of his lungs, causing Alexei to spring back in surprise.
"Dreykov you son of a bitch!! You stole my branding and left me here to rot just so you could give it to your mutant lab-experiment of a daughter??! That was the plan all along huh?? I'll kill you, you God damn, shit sucking asshole!! I'll sue you for every last cent you've got, and then I'll fucking-"
It was Alexei's turn to interrupt. "Sooo… about Dreykov. He is already dead you see. Or well, dead again I suppose. This time for real." he added hastily. "The Red Room fell out of the sky, and him along with it. His… how you say… goose was cooked?" he said, miming an explosion with a corresponding sound effect.
"So Dreykov's dead huh…?" the man said, closing his eyes as his breathing grew more stable. Alexei was about to respond before they suddenly shot back open again, the eyes behind the phantom's mask blazing with furious, unfiltered rage.
"DREYKOV'S DEAD AND I NEVER EVEN GOT PAID FOR ALL THIS???" he screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice erupting through the small room with the force of a sonic boom.
"Hey hey! Keep it down! You want all of Russia to hear you?" Alexei said nervously. He could already hear the frantic patter of running footsteps from the floor above them, and quite a few of them at that. From the sound of it, the next wave of reinforcements was zeroing in on them, and the Soviet cursed under his breath. "So what you are telling me is that Antonia was actually not the true Taskmaster then? She seemed to be quite… capable." he said, his bones aching at the memory of the dozens of "lucky shots" she had managed to land on him.
"I'm telling you that I'm the only Taskmaster." he hissed. "Look, I'll explain everything later, but right now we gotta make tracks if we're going to make it out of here in one piece. You did say you came here to rescue me, right? So then how'd you plan on getting out of here?"
"The only way out is the way I came in." Alexei said as he glanced around the room, hoping that there was some sort of secret escape hatch to the surface. Of course, with the secret bunker being almost a mile underground, there was no such luck. He looked back down at the newly confirmed Taskmaster lying spread-eagled on the floor. "What about you eh? Can you move at all?"
Taskmaster began to grunt with extreme concentration. Alexei could see a slight movement from his hands, his fingers slowly twitching open like the buds of a flower in early spring. It seemingly took every last ounce of his effort to raise his arms half an inch off the ground before he finally collapsed back with a growl of defeat. "No… I'm starting to get some feeling back in my limbs, but it's gonna take some time before I can walk again." he panted.
"We do not have any time to wait around! Those guards will be here any minute." Alexei huffed. "Gah! This makes things so much more complicated than I had been expecting..." he said, raking his fingers through his beard as he tried to weigh his options for escape.
"Yeah well, you'll have to forgive me. I've had paralyzing toxin pumped into my veins for…for… " he trailed off before the beady eyes behind the mask shifted over to focus on Alexei. "Actually, I have no idea how long I've been down here. You wouldn't happen to know the date, would you Commander Commie?"
"Uh, well it is August 16th yes?" Alexei offered with a shrug. "Some people say it has been an unusually cool summer but I dunno… I don't really mind when it's-"
" Year? " Taskmaster asked impatiently.
"Ah. Ahem, yes." Alexei muttered sheepishly. "Well, it is the year 2016."
"What! 2016??" Taskmaster gasped, his eyes going wide. "Shit… I thought something was off when you said you fought Taskmaster, but it was actually Dreykov's kid. Even with that chip-thingy in her neck letting her copy my skill set, it still would have been real sad if you got slapped around by a teenage girl cosplaying as me."
"Look, I did not get 'slapped around' okay?!" Alexei began to protest, but it seemed that the man wasn't listening. He had shifted his gaze back to stare up at the dull granite ceiling. The sound of a rough, sandpapery sigh rasped out from behind Taskmaster's mask.
"I've been missing for five years. Five years and nobody ever realized that knock off wasn't really me…" he said quietly.
Even though Alexei couldn't see his face, there was something that seemed almost defeated about him, as though this news had knocked the wind right out of him. "To be fair, her armor did make her look quite a bit more manly." Alexei offered, as though this would be some small comfort to the ghoulish brute. "And she didn't talk much. Or at all, really. It was actually pretty creepy."
"That's even worse! I'm known for my charming quips and witty repartee!" the man said in exasperation. "Lurking around in the shadows all quiet, having dry, banterless fights like some kinda soulless robot… that's… that's just not Taskmaster!" he growled, his hands regaining enough movement to ball up into angry fists. "I spent years studying the moves of the so-called 'best-of-the-best', and making them even better. I busted my ass doing jobs nobody else had the skills, brains, or the balls to do, all so I could make a name for myself as the number one merc in the world. But then I take on ONE bad gig only to have it all blow up in smoke. For some TURD of a crime lord to just make a half-assed copycat of me and say, 'hey there folks, here's your new and improved Taskmaster! Now with 100% less talking! Isn't that better?' In the end I just got got, and nobody gave a rat's ass about any of it. About me."
"I know the feeling…" Alexei said under his breath. The strange sensation of unexpected sympathy for the fallen Taskmaster began to swell in his chest. It was true that the man had been nothing but surly - hell even downright rude to him from the moment he freed him from the machine that had kept him in stasis for so long. There was a part of him that wanted to pluck the mask off his (presumably) smug face as a souvenir and go on his merry way, leaving him to whatever fate Dreykov's remaining loyalists saw fit. He could always report back that the only thing he had managed to accomplish in the bunker was burn up some incriminating old Red Room documents, and that would be that.
But as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that he saw too much of himself in the guy to actually follow through with such a cold-hearted plan. His sympathy ultimately stemmed from a place of vanity, his ego constantly on the lookout for the next place it could get a good stroke. Alexei was stubborn as a goat, but even he wasn't entirely without awareness of this. In the end he really couldn't have cared less though. The rest of the world may have forgotten about him over the years, but he was still a hero, and Russia's finest one at that. He would do the thing that heroes do, and sometimes, heroes had to save the occasional ungrateful jackass.
"Okay my friend, I am officially ringing the bell on this pity party of yours. Ding ding! I am the big strong Ivan Drago entering the ring to fight against your very sad Rocky Balboa." Alexei said as he flashed the prone man a confident smile, his gold teeth glinting in the low light of the dreary room. "You can drown your sorrows in vodka later. I will even pour it for you. But for now, I will get you out of here, okay?"
"God damn, can I at least have one second to process this you old bas-Waughh!!!"
Alexei didn't give Taskmaster the time to finish what was sure to be a very polite and well mannered expression of gratitude. He grabbed him by the collar and effortlessly tossed him over his shoulder like a 220-pound ragdoll. Taskmaster's head hung down behind Alexei's back, arms draped limply around it as the big man gripped him firmly around the waist.
"Ngh… this is seriously how you're going to get me out of here?" he groused.
"You have a better idea?" Alexei countered. "I would have carried you out like a blushing bride on her wedding night if that is what you preferred, but unfortunately I will be needing my shield to protect us." he said, picking up the aforementioned weapon in his free hand and making his way to the doorway. "Don't worry. I will get you out of here safely."
"Oh yeah. I feel REAL secure here being carried out like a sack of flour by the Scarlet Vanguard or whatever."
"For the last time… it is the Red Guardian!" Alexei growled through gritted teeth before giving the man a hard, open-palmed slap on the ass. The sharp crack of his hand against Taskmaster's firm, spandex covered rump reverberated through the room.
"YEOUCH!! GOD DAMMIT WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR??" Taskmaster howled, writhing weakly against the Russian's powerful shoulder.
"Oh so you can feel that can you?” Alexei snorted. “Naughty little boys who complain too much get spanked! You have more objections?"
The only thing he could hear in response was Taskmaster mumbling something about a "broken ass bone".
"That is what I thought!" he said, charging out to the hallway with his 'passenger' in tow.
Subtlety wasn't exactly something that came naturally to Alexei. Of course, he was no stranger to espionage, and could blend in when it was critical to the mission's success. But he had the distinct feeling that he wouldn't manage to quietly sneak his way out of here after making such an explosive entrance - and the fact that he currently had a man flopping limply around his shoulder certainly didn't help things either.
He broke into a sprint, hopping over the trail of goons he had left in his wake as if they were part of a particularly morbid obstacle course. The Russian was almost nonchalant as he smacked a slowly stirring grunt back into a punchy state of unconsciousness with his shield on the way out. After all, two concussions were just as bad as one, right?
A freight elevator had taken him down this far on the way in, but that was out of the question now. It would be far too easy for Dreykov's loyalists to cut the power, leaving both him and Taskmaster as sitting ducks. He would have to settle for another route, kicking the door to the nearby stairwell off its hinges. What Alexei would have considered a wholly unnecessary amount of stairs awaited them, and super soldier or no, he could already feel his thighs begin to burn at the prospect of making his way to the top.
"Why the hell do these shadowy underground military organizations intent on destabilizing world governments through their global network of brainwashed assassins always have to make such a big show of making their bases like this?" Alexei complained as he dashed up the stairs, knees flying to his chest with each step."I swear, if I ever get the chance to make my own secret lair, it will have a maximum of three floors, tops. Maybe with an underground parking lot."
Taskmaster didn't seem particularly interested in discussing the finer points of incorporating accessibility into secret lairs, however. The chin of his mask repeatedly smacked against Alexei's shoulder, his head bouncing wildly as the man raced upwards two and three steps at a time. "Guh… Whatever. You wouldn't happen to have a Dramamine on you, huh? Much more of this and I'm gonna hurl…"
"Just hang in there a little bit longer my friend!" Alexei gasped, beginning to feel winded after nearly 30 flights of stairs. "We are almost to the top. Then we will be-"
His thought was cut off as a door one floor above them suddenly slammed open, a slew of armed men yelling frantically as they flooded the narrow corridor. Alexei could count five of them, each leaning over the railing with their guns aimed at the costumed pair.
"What is this? You came to join the party just like your little friends did, eh?" Alexei roared up at the men in Russian. His mind raced as he tried to weigh his options. The sound of shouting could be heard echoing from the floors beneath them, dozens of footsteps stomping up the stairs after them. It wouldn't be long before they were trapped, and Alexei could feel his bravado falter knowing that he was currently down an arm.
"If you've got an idea of what to do here, you'd better make it happen quick." Taskmaster hissed over his shoulder. "I didn't plan on dying draped over the shoulder of some guy I just met."
"We will not be dying here today my spooky friend. Do not worry. Your ass is safe with me." Alexei said, giving the man's rump a reassuring pat.
"I'd prefer if the rest of me made it out here in one piece too, you know..." Taskmaster sighed. "Anyway, what's the game plan here huh?"
"Ahh… that's my big problem. I never make plans." Alexei said as he took into account the position of the men above them. He could see the angle he needed for this to work, his years of experience as one of Russia's greatest heroes as fresh in his mind as though they were yesterday. After all, he had spent the last 20 years dreaming about them from prison. A grin more devilish than any fiend could ever hope to imitate bloomed beneath his bushy mustache. "I wing it."
The men above opened fire, Alexei sidestepping the hail of bullets as he launched his shield at the wall. It ricocheted up towards the ceiling, the assailants pausing their attack to dodge the whirring projectile. But Alexei was no amateur: he was an artist. A virtuoso who played his symphonies on the battlefield, and the clang of his shield bouncing off the wall behind them to assail them from the back was music to his ears. It pummeled two of them, the thugs' grunts of surprise cut short as they topped over the ledge into the void below.
He squatted down on his haunches, giving himself the briefest moment of satisfaction thinking of the nasty surprise the men on the bottom floor were in for, before springing upwards. His superhuman strength rocketed him up to catch the iron bar of the ledge above them with his free hand, hefting both himself and the rigid Taskmaster over the side to meet their attackers. He kicked out while he was still airborne, knocking another of Dreykov's men into the wall behind them with so much force it cracked on impact.
He grabbed his shield to block a shot aimed at him, ducking his head behind it as he charged towards his attacker in a red blur. Three hundred pounds of soviet fury crashed into the hapless man with the force of a freight train, slamming him into his remaining companion. The two of them took an express trip to the bottom of the stairs behind them, landing with a thud. They remained unmoving in a tangled heap, either blacked out or at least pretending to be out of interest for their future wellbeing.
"Hah! Still got it!" Alexei hollered triumphantly as he examined his brutal handiwork.
"Okay, well that was fucking terrifying..." Taskmaster grumbled over Alexei's shoulder. "But even I gotta admit, that sure was something else. Wish I had gotten a proper look at what you did there."
"Oh? Well once we are out of here, maybe I can show you some of my moves if you are so eager to see."
"Sure. You do that, and then maybe I can show you how you were actually supposed to stick that landing." Taskmaster snarked.
"Ahh, always so hostile! And here I was thinking we would become like Maverick and Goose from Top Gun eh?" Alexei chuckled.
"...You know Goose dies right?" Taskmaster shot back.
"Gahahaha! My mistake! I meant to say Maverick and… ah… who was Val Kilmer's character again? Er… well anyway, you can be Val Kilmer and I am Tom Cruise. That is much better for you, yes?"
"Wait, so I was Goose in your original scenario??"
"Of course! I am much more of the leading man type, don't you think?"
"Only because I'm numb from the neck down! Trust me, you'd be singing a different tune there if I could get in on the action here, Ruskie." Taskmaster grumbled. "Also considering that Maverick got Goose killed by being a showy idiot, you're really not doing a super great job reassuring me that I'm gonna make it out of here in one piece."
"Bah! You worry too much! Do not get so caught up in the details, my friend!" Alexei said, waving off the man's concerns.
"Yeah, well, details are kinda my thing..." Taskmaster said in resignation, more than happy to put this asinine conversation about film metaphors to rest.
Alexei was not quite as clumsy as his boisterous demeanor suggested though. He skillfully navigated through the underground bunker with his passenger safely in tow, dancing through wave after wave of Dreykov's men without so much as a stray bullet grazing Taskmaster. The Russian truly seemed to be in his element in the heat of battle, laughing like a blood-frenzied berserker as he plowed through anyone who was unfortunate enough to be in their way.
He launched his shield at a cluster of gunmen who were taking cover around the corner, the metal disc pinballing against the narrow walls of the hallway with a cacophony of metallic bangs. It clipped one man under his leg, sending him sprawling in an acrobatic pirouette, his cohort face-planting as it caught him behind the head on its way back to Alexei. He kicked himself into the air off the side of the wall, arm outstretched to catch it. But before he could continue his assault, he felt a shooting pain arc across his leg.
The gun of the man who had been knocked off his feet had skittered across the floor when he was struck, but it appeared he wasn't totally disarmed. Lying on his back, he fired off a Widow's Bite from his wrist at Alexei before he could catch the shield, shooting him in the thigh. The temporary numbness threw him off balance as he fell forward. The shield soared past his hand, leaving him open for a follow-up attack…
… Or it would have if another hand behind him hadn't caught the shield, sending it back down the hallway at his attacker in a perfect mirror of Alexei's first shot. It rang like a gong as it caught the goon in the face, soaring right back into the waiting hand of Taskmaster.
"Still got it." he sniggered, dangling upside-down from beneath Alexei's arm like a monkey hanging from a tree branch.
Alexei's mouth went slack as he attempted to process what just happened, staring down at Taskmaster in disbelief. The only word that managed to escape his lips was a long, drawn out "Whaaaaat?"
"Don't look so surprised. I told you I was good." The masked phantom said matter-of-factly. "Guess it's lucky for you that I've got some feeling back in my upper body huh?" he said, flexing his fingers as though he was a pianist stepping up to the podium for the first time in years. "Oh and by the way, I'm charging you for that last rescue. We can discuss rates if we ever make it out of here."
"What?? I am rescuing you! " Alexei gasped in outrage.
"Listen Comrade, Taskmaster doesn't work pro-bono. So if you're gonna need my highly specific skill set to pull off this daring escape of yours, you'd better be ready to pony up." the mercenary said with a shrug.
"Bah! Capitalists… " Alexei growled. "So you have the strength to walk now, yes? Or should I begin 'charging' you now for being your personal taxi service?"
Taskmaster pointedly ignored the other man's grumblings as he continued to stretch out his limbs. "Mmm… legs are still pretty weak. Think I've got an idea on how we can fix up this whole arrangement though. Do me a favor and grab those guys' guns off the floor for me."
"I… don't know how comfortable I feel giving you a gun." Alexei said hesitantly.
"Why not? I'm a damn good shot! Hell, I'd even go out on a limb to say that I'm actually the best shot!"
"That is not the problem. I'm worried that you might ah… shoot me in the back of the head or something like that. I would not exactly call you a trustworthy guy."
"Woah GEEZ man that's dark! I know I'm a bastard but I'm not a monster for Christ's sake! I just told you I still can't walk right? So it would be pretty goddamn stupid for me to shoot you and leave myself a sitting duck here." Taskmaster scoffed. "And besides, if I wanted to kill you, I would have just snapped your neck as soon as I got the feeling back in my arms."
"You see? That is not something that a trustworthy person would say!"
"Oh come on already! What, did you already forget that whole cool thing I did with your shield back there? I sure haven't! Pretty badass if you ask me! So why would I have bothered saving your skin if I was just gonna kill you?" Taskmaster said, handing the shield back to Alexei as a peace offering of sorts. "Look, I promise I won't shoot you. Or snap your neck. Scout's honor."
The Russian gave a frustrated sigh before picking up two of the fallen pistols from the floor and passing them under his arm to the waiting Taskmaster.
"There we go! Now do me a favor and grab onto my legs, alright?"
"Wha-?"
Before Alexei could understand what was going on, Taskmaster tossed the guns towards the ceiling above the Russian's head. With the speed and precision of an Olympic gymnast, he pivoted himself around Alexei to ride piggyback over his shoulders. The befuddled man beneath him barely managed to catch his limp legs in a clumsy grab just as Taskmaster caught the guns midair, twirling them around his fingers with a flourish.
"That's more like it…" he said, glaring down the sights of the guns with grisly resolution. "Let's see how these fuckers handle the combined strength of Taskmaster and Red Guardian, huh?"
"No no no. It is THE Red Guardian! THE!" Alexei interjected. "It is very important that you include the 'The' before my name. It makes me sound more… official you know? More brutal. Like The Terminator, yes?"
"... So have you only seen '80s movies or what?" Taskmaster asked dryly.
"Well, movie night in Russian prison is not so good…" Alexei admitted.
"Whatever, let's just get the hell out of Dodge already." Taskmaster said. The eyes behind the mask burned with malice, an avenging ghost seated atop his hapless steed. "Oh man, am I gonna enjoy this…" he hissed, cocking the hammers on his pistols with his thumbs. "Let's cause some mayhem!"
"Gahaha! You do not have to tell me twice!" Alexei bellowed, charging forward like a bull ready to crash through every china shop in town.
The deadly combination of the two men was enough to invoke pure, pants-shitting terror from any of Dreykov's thugs unfortunate enough to cross their path. The four-armed beast they formed was the kind of monstrous entity that mothers warned disobedient children would come to snatch them up in the middle of the night if they didn't behave. It let loose a bloodthirsty howl from two mouths as it butchered its way through the underground bunker on its path to freedom. Men who were somehow lucky enough to avoid Taskmaster's barrage of bullets would have their jaws realigned courtesy of Alexei's shield. The number of enemies blocking their path seemed inconsequential to them - if anything they seemed to view it as a challenge.
"Blam Blam! 50 bucks! Kapow! Headshot! That's worth 200 dollars right there!" Taskmaster shouted over the din, keeping a grisly ledger with every bullet expended.
"Will you stop that!!" Alexei yelled, leaping forward to catch an assailant in the solar plexus with his knee. The man wheezed like a deflating balloon as he crumpled to the floor. Alexei swatted aside another wave of rounds aimed at them, Taskmaster's rapid response from above his shoulders quickly thinning out the enemies' ranks. The Russian did his best to ignore the constant fiscal "updates" his new partner was giving him, drowning out his money-grubbing in the roar of the battlefield.
Still, he supposed he couldn't blame the guy for getting worked up about being back in action, especially after whatever betrayal he experienced had left him sidelined for 5 years. It was clear that Taskmaster found the pandemonium they were creating exciting - and that 'excitement' was currently throbbing against the back of Alexei's head. The growing lump in his white briefs smacked stiffly against the back of his helmet every time he was jostled.
"Looks like you're starting to get some feeling back in your lower body too, eh?" Alexei thought to himself as he did his best to refocus his thoughts anywhere besides Taskmaster's erection. " Still, good to know I'm not the only one who gets off on a good fight…" he mused, also trying to ignore how uncomfortably tight his own pants had gotten while the song of battle rang in his ears. Their enemies might have found being bulldozed down by a man with a sizable tent in his trousers awkward - if they weren't currently running for their lives, that is.
Eventually the pair ran out of men to impede them, either because they were currently lying on the floor behind them, or because they had learned to stay away for their own good. They finally made it to the door leading outside, Alexei kicking it down and letting the scent of well-earned freedom fill his lungs. Still they weren't out of the woods just yet, and it would only be a matter of time before more serious backup was sent in. Thankfully Alexei had prepared an escape plan: a red and silver Irbis motorcycle concealed inside a cluster of trees within the Kremlin's grounds.
"Damn, not even a helicopter lift out of here huh? Talk about a budget operation..." Taskmaster said, eyeing the motorcycle with skepticism.
"Come now, would it kill you to show just a little bit of gratitude?" Alexei snorted, pulling Taskmaster down from his shoulders and onto the back end of the motorcycle's long seat. He hopped onto the front and gave the engine an experimental rev.
"Alright alright. Thank you for getting me out of that hell hole. Even if I had to end up doing most of the work myself." he muttered, hooking his arms around the Russian's waist. "There. Feel better now?"
"You know something? I do." Alexei said, turning to wink at the man and give him the goofiest, most self assured smile this side of the Eastern bloc. "Now hold on tight, yeah? It is a long ride to St. Petersburg."
The engine roared to life, the two men vanishing into the night in a neon blur. Sirens could be heard wailing in the distance, and Alexei had no doubt that the area would soon be crawling with a battalion of men who were armed to the teeth. It wouldn't matter though. The two of them would be long gone before they even arrived.