Chapter 19: Operation Scarlet Dawn
The Moscow facility smelled like fear and disinfectant.
Justin breached through the service entrance at 0300 hours, Frank Morrison and six ARES operatives flowing behind him like water. His Scientific Intuition had analyzed the building's structure for two weeks—every load-bearing wall, every security checkpoint, every exit route mapped in his mind with mathematical precision.
The first guard went down to a tranquilizer dart before he could raise his weapon.
"Team Alpha, sweep left," Justin whispered into his comm. "Non-lethal unless absolutely necessary. These Widows are victims, not enemies."
They moved through corridors that looked like a hospital designed by monsters. Training rooms with bloodstains on the mats. Medical bays with restraint chairs. And cells—dozens of cells, each holding a young woman who'd been broken and rebuilt into a weapon.
The first Widow attacked without warning.
She came through a doorway moving like death itself—knee strike to Justin's ribs, elbow to his throat, knife appearing from nowhere to slash at his eyes. His regeneration factor meant he could take risks others couldn't, so Justin didn't dodge. He caught her wrist, twisted, used her momentum to pin her against the wall.
"We're here to help," he said in Russian. "We're freeing you."
She spat in his face and tried to headbutt him.
Frank Morrison hit her with a tranquilizer. She collapsed, still snarling.
"They don't know we're rescue," Frank said. "They think we're invaders."
"I know." Justin's ribs throbbed where she'd struck—bones cracked but already healing. "Keep moving. The faster we secure the facility, the faster we can explain."
They found the children in sub-level three.
Justin's stomach turned. Training chambers full of girls no older than twelve, learning to kill with the efficiency of veterans. Conditioning equipment humming with electricity. And in the corner, a girl who couldn't have been more than eight, strapped to a chair while speakers played sounds designed to break her mind.
"Get them out," Justin ordered. His voice was steady despite the rage building in his chest. "All of them. Now."
Two ARES operatives moved to free the children while Justin approached the conditioning equipment. His Scientific Intuition analyzed it in seconds—electroshock therapy, subliminal programming, chemical reinforcement. A machine designed to erase personality and replace it with obedience.
He pulled his sidearm and put three rounds through the control console.
Sparks flew. The machine died. And Justin moved to the next one.
By the time they'd cleared sub-level three, he'd destroyed seventeen conditioning machines and freed twenty-three children. Some cried. Some attacked. Most just stared with empty eyes that had seen too much.
"This is wrong," one of his operatives whispered. "This is so fucking wrong."
"I know," Justin said. "That's why we're ending it."
The main assault came when they reached the administrative level.
Red Room handlers weren't Widows—they were trainers, psychologists, the architects of this nightmare. And they fought like cornered rats, desperate and vicious. Bullets tore through the air. Justin took three rounds—shoulder, abdomen, thigh—and kept moving. His regeneration factor meant pain was temporary. Death was temporary.
Victory was all that mattered.
He closed with the nearest handler, a man reaching for a radio to call reinforcements. Justin's fist broke his jaw. Broke his nose. Left him unconscious on the floor.
"Sweep complete," Frank reported. "Facility secured. Casualties: two handlers dead, seven incapacitated, unknown number fled. Our team: zero KIA, three wounded, one—" He looked at Justin's bloody armor. "—boss, you good?"
Justin checked himself. The bullets had already pushed out, wounds closing. "I'm fine. Status on the Widows?"
"Thirty-seven secured. Yelena's team is administering counter-agents now."
Yelena worked with mechanical efficiency.
She moved through the secured Widows, checking each one's conditioning level, administering the counter-agent Justin had synthesized. Some took it willingly. Others had to be restrained, screaming that they didn't want to be "broken," that they were "perfect" as they were.
The conditioning ran deep.
Justin watched one young woman convulse as the counter-agent broke through years of programming. Her body arched. Her eyes rolled back. Foam appeared at her lips.
Then she went still.
"No pulse," Yelena said flatly. She moved to the next subject without pausing.
Two more died before the night was over. Adverse reactions. Bodies too damaged by the conditioning to survive its removal. Justin watched each death, memorized each face, added them to the list of people he'd failed to save.
But thirty survived.
Thirty women who woke up confused, traumatized, but themselves for the first time in years.
Natasha arrived as the sun rose, her team having secured the Kiev facility with similar results. She found Justin in the medical bay, his armor covered in blood—his and others'—watching the freed Widows try to process their new reality.
"Moscow secure?" she asked.
"Mostly. Dreykov escaped."
Natasha's jaw clenched. "How?"
"Contingency protocols we didn't know about. Secret exit. He was gone before we breached the administrative level." Justin rubbed his face. "I'm sorry. I know you wanted—"
"His infrastructure is destroyed," Natasha interrupted. Her voice was hard. "His facilities are burned. His people are scattered. We hurt him. That's what matters."
"Is it enough?"
"For now." She looked at the freed Widows. "We saved thirty-seven people today, Justin. That's thirty-seven lives that are theirs again. If Dreykov rebuilds, we'll hit him again. But right now? This is victory."
Justin wanted to believe that. Wanted to feel satisfied. But all he could see were the two who'd died, the five who were catatonic, the children who'd never be truly children again.
"Sir," Frank Morrison's voice came through his comm. "We've got a situation. One of the freed Widows is asking for you. Says she remembers your face from... before."
Justin's blood went cold. "Before?"
"Before the Red Room. She thinks you're someone she used to know."
"Impossible," Justin thought. "Justin Hammer never had contact with Red Room operations. Unless—"
Unless his interference had created ripples he hadn't anticipated. Unless changing the timeline meant people remembered things that never happened in this version of events.
He found the Widow in question sitting in a corner, wrapped in a blanket, staring at him with intense focus.
"You," she said in heavily accented English. "I know you. Different face. Same... same eyes. Same feeling."
Justin's heart hammered. "I don't know what you—"
"You saved me before. Long time ago. Different life." She tilted her head. "Or maybe I am crazy. Maybe conditioning broke wrong and I see things that aren't there."
"You're not crazy," Justin said carefully. "You're free. That's all that matters."
She studied him for another moment, then nodded. "Yes. Free. Thank you... whoever you are."
She closed her eyes and slept.
Justin left before anyone could ask questions he couldn't answer.
Yelena found him on the roof an hour later.
"Natasha is looking for you," she said. "But I thought you might need moment alone first."
"I'm fine."
"You are covered in blood and staring at sky like it has answers." Yelena lit a cigarette. "This is not fine."
Justin laughed despite himself. "Fair point."
"You did good thing today. Saved many people. Including me." She took a drag. "Why?"
"Because it was the right thing to do."
"That is not reason. Right thing is subjective. Why did you do this?"
Justin was quiet for a long moment. "Because I've been given power I don't fully understand. Abilities that let me change things. And I decided that if I can help people, I should. Even when it's hard. Even when it costs me."
"What does it cost you?"
He pulled up his sleeve, showing the void marks that now covered his arms past his elbows. The geometric patterns glowed faintly in the dawn light.
"This. Every time I use my powers, it spreads. Eventually, it'll kill me. I have maybe a year left. Maybe less."
Yelena stared at the marks. "And you still chose to help us."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because a year where I help people is better than a decade where I don't."
Yelena was quiet. Then: "You are strange man, Justin Hammer. But I think maybe good man too. My sister—she chose well."
"Your sister chose someone who's dying."
"Everyone is dying. You just know your schedule." Yelena stubbed out her cigarette. "Come. She is worried. And I am supposed to bring you to debrief before she kills me."
They found Natasha in the command center, coordinating extraction of the freed Widows. She looked exhausted but focused, her professional mask firmly in place.
Until she saw Justin. Then the mask cracked.
She crossed the room in three strides and kissed him—hard, desperate, relieved. When they separated, there were tears on her cheeks.
"Don't do that again," she said.
"Do what?"
"Take three bullets. Break your ribs. Risk your life like it doesn't matter."
"It does matter. But so do they." Justin gestured to the freed Widows. "I have regeneration. They don't. If I can take the risks they can't—"
"Then you will die a hero and I will have to live with losing you." Natasha's voice broke. "I can't—I can't do that. Not again."
Justin pulled her close. "I'm sorry. I'll be more careful."
"Liar."
"Probably." He kissed her forehead. "But I'm here now. We won. That's what matters."
Yelena cleared her throat pointedly. "Later, you two. We need to debrief."
Justin grinned despite the exhaustion pulling at him. "She's very good at breaking moments, isn't she?"
Natasha laughed—a genuine, unguarded sound Justin realized he'd never heard from her before. "She learned from the best."
They debriefed for two hours. Thirty-seven Widows freed. Two dead from adverse reactions. Five catatonic. Dreykov escaped but his infrastructure destroyed. Three facilities burned. Decades of slavery ended in a single night.
It wasn't complete victory. But it was enough.
Note:
Please give good reviews and power stones itrings more people and more people means more chapters?
My Patreon is all about exploring 'What If' timelines, and you can get instant access to chapters far ahead of the public release.
Choose your journey:
Timeline Viewer ($6): Get 10 chapters of early access + 5 new chapters weekly.
Timeline Explorer ($9): Jump 15-20 chapters ahead of everyone.
Timeline Keeper ($15): Get Instant Access to chapters the moment I finish writing them. No more waiting.
Read the raw, unfiltered story as it unfolds. Your support makes this possible!
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/Whatif0