Romanova is well aware of the image she presents; a girl of average height, looking to be in her mid-adolescence. Prettier than most, but young.

Harmless.

Easily led.

The guards' credit, they don't lower their guns.

"Hands on your heads," the oldest of the guards says. He's in his thirties, the kind who has been in the military for over half his life. Not the kind to be taken in by someone's pet-agents pulling rank or bullshit.