Chapter 2
Chapter 2
"ALWAYS HELP SOMEONE. YOU MIGHT BE THE ONLY ONE WHO DOES" ~ ???
His knee bounced with anticipation, Clint had no idea what was going to happen. All he knew was that this could be the most dangerous mission he's been on yet. Clint doesn't usually get nervous before a mission, but he was this time. He was so nervous that he actually called Laura on Skype when the team was asleep, his headphones were slightly broken though so sometimes her voice cut out.
"You'll be fine Barton," Coulson said with a smile and he patted his shoulder. "You have me and the team on your back,"
"I know Coulson... I just- I heard about her when I was still in the circus," Clint has been with S.H.I.E.L.D. for four years now. Phil recruited him when he was a lanky 18 year old kill-for-hire and has loved life since.
"She first popped up on our radar around the time you joined us," Coulson said. Clint shook off his nerves and stood up, he looked at Coulson.
"I've got this...?" but it came out as more of a question.
"You have this," Phil replied, a confident look on his face.
"I don't have this!" yelled Clint as he ducked to avoid a swinging kick to the head. Clint slipped his foot out but she did a summersault over it and tried to shoot him. He dived out the way and shot an arrow at her, unfortunately, that was the same time she shot her gun and they both counteracted each other. (not sure if that's possible but the bullet-bullet moment in SS2 gave me this idea)
"Sorry Barton, she gave us the slip. Didn't even see her," Rumlow apologised, Clint could see the S.T.R.I.K.E. leave the building and head off in different directions.
Clint rolled out the way and turned his bow into a staff. He aimed for the head but she dived it causing an opening for her. She kneed him in the stomach but he didn't make a noise, only counteracted it with a low sweep with his bow. She went crashing to the ground, her ankle injury from earlier caught up with her because she could put any pressure on it and it was swollen. Clint loaded his bow and aimed it for her head, the tip of the arrow on her forehead so much she could feel the tip.
"Go on. Do it," she dared.
Earlier
"S.T.R.I.K.E in position," Brock said subtly.
"Coulson here," Phil said, taking a sip of his beer.
"The Hawk is in his nest," Clint said with a grin; that got a lot of groans on the channel. "What? Aw come on. Coulson gets to drink!"
"I'm barely even sipping it," Phil defended, he looked at the bartender and gestured to the phone pressed on his ear, he was pretending to having a phone call. "Can you believe this guy?" he scoffed to the man. Clint adjusted his comm and laid out his arrows and his bow. He then got his binoculars out and stared at the building.
"Well, this is fun. How's it going down there?" he asked after 20 minutes.
"I can't see anyone suspicious," Jack Rollins said.
"Mmm. They appear to be rich guys with young woman handing off their arms," replied Rumlow gruffly. Clint pulled a face and sighed. This was the worst part of being a sniper, having to wait on the roof while the others get to do stuff. Of course he can mingle sometimes, but it's better if he is in another building to scope the area.
"Are we even sure they are showing up?" Clint asked with a huff. They'd been hanging around for 10 minutes now and there was no signs
"There isn't anyone here that are raising any bells," Coulson said, Clint could just see his shrug. Clint groaned and looked through the binoculars again. He saw a woman with long ginger hair, on her arm was a man with medium length hair and wearing a suit. The woman seemed to be looking at everyone and the look on her face was expressionless.
"All I see are stuck up rich guys," Clint said distastefully. "I mean this woman keeps staring at people with no look on her face! She's even looking around with a bored face and her man, god, he's just... I don't even think he's there! Why go just to be miserable?" Clint ranted, he heard his team sigh and groan and just basically show displeasure at his easy pass.
"Hawk. The man. What's his hair length, colour and size?" asked Coulson, he had moved away from the bar and was sat at the table with his drink. He got some odd looks from people as he spoke quietly into his phone. "Why are you staring? I have to be quiet. My foster son is having a panic attack and I need to calm him down!" he snapped convincingly. They heard quiet mumbled on the other end.
"Uh... brown hair. Down to his shoulder. Height? Maybe 5'8, 6ft?" he explained.
"Shit. Barton, radio to Hill. Tell her we have the Assassin on our trip," he ordered.
"Who is he? Waaait, is that woman the Widow?" he asked, his face turning red. Maybe he was more tired from his last mission than he thought.