They laughed as they took his weapons, faces twisted into grotesque mockeries of smiles. They hadn't been expecting him but after the initial attack they had regrouped and cornered him long enough for one of them to get in a good hit with a crowbar. He was half dragged- vision graying-towards a large post in the middle of the compound. Clint felt someone wrap thick rope around his wrists and loop it round the post. His body ached with new bruises. Blinking hard he cursed under his breath, definately concusion. Around him the mercenaries he had been sent to eliminate lowered their voices talking quickly, sending occasionaly glances his way. They weren't about to let their guard down now they had caught him. Clint smirked, they should be afraid, very afraid. Natasha was going to murder them.
"What are you so pleased about? You are at a distinct disadvantage Hawkeye," the new comer practically spat out his moniker.
Clint gave him a shit eating grin, "Your sudden and painfull death."
The blow almost caught him by surpries making his had spin. He blinked rappidly forcing himself to focus.
"You will not be laughing once I am through with you."
"Threats and oh look more threats," Clint teased, "I'm so scared I'm shaking in my boots."
A heavily booted foot made its aquaintence with his stomach driving the air from his lungs. he coughed and spat blood onto the damp earth, "That all you've got?"
The man crouched infront of him, one hand twisting the archer's hair forcing his head back and exposing his throat, "I want to know who is so keen to have me removed from the game."
Clint's expression went cold, his stormy eyes hard, "This is a game to you? Innocent peoples lives are worth nothing to you?"
"Collatreral," the man shrugged, "You shouldn't take things so personaly."
The archer's eyes narrowed to slits. Forget Natasha his was going to have this basterd's heart on a skewer.
Standing the man shoved his hands in his pockets, "Did you check out the forcast before you planned this little excursion Hawkeye? I hear we're in for a thunder storm. I hope you're not afraid of lightning."
Clint watched the jackass saunter away with a dark glower. Soon he was left alone in the thickening darkness. The first drops of water washed away the grime from the previous fight. It tapped out a steady heart beat on his skin. A small smile twitched on his lips, rain reminded him of Natasha. If he caught pneumonia she was going to skin him alive. His short bark of laughter desolved into a hacking cough. Oh yeah he was so dead.
He must have blacked out because a clap of thunder roused him with a start. Clint shook his head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs. His uniform was drenched, sticking to his clamy skin. Taking stock of his injuries he discovered that his left wrist was bruiesed and swollen. At least it hadn't been his right. A flash of light illuminated the compound for a split second.
One one thousand.
The next boom almost deafened him, it was as if someone had set off a cannon in his ear.
Two one thousand.
The phone wires above him crackled onimously. Clint gazed up a frown maring his features. No, no way, he could not be that unlucky. Another flash glanced off the watch tower by the gate.
Three one thousand.
Clint saw the flames before he heard them. They licked down the tower in a desperate attempt to udevoure it in one go. The metal sparked, twisting and pinging in the blazing heat. The roof below it became the next victim. Somewhere in the distance an alarm was blaring. Voices shouted back and forth in growing hysterical panic. The fire roared as it spread like spint paint across the ground. Clint tugged at the rope around his wrists. It refused to give. He gritted his teeth. There was no chance he was going to die tied to a post in the middle of a blazing inferno in a freak storm.
He saw her before his mind redgistered what he had seen. A black shilluette darting from one shadow to another. The shouts rose in volume, frantic and terrified. Told you so, he thought smugly.
She was at his side in an instant, hands cupping his face, "Clint?"
He swallowed down tangy blood and smirked a little, "What kept you?"
"Ass," she snapped fondly. Her knife made short work of his bindings and she haulled him to his feet. Slinging one of his arms over her shoulders Natasha navigated their way through the smoke.
"Told them you'd be mad," the archer mumbled.
Natsha shook her head, "Just wait till you're back in one piece," she mock threataned.
Clint let his head loll onto her shoulder and felt a tiny smile tug at his lips, "I'm so scared."