"I got red in my ledger; I'd like to wipe it out." –Natasha Romanoff, 'The Avengers', 2012

14:34 24-AUG-09, ZURICH, SWITZERLAND

An immense explosion caused them to instinctively crouch down, wrapping their arms around their heads. When no debris fell on them, they got back up and continued to run. The cobblestone streets began to quake under their boots and dust was thick in the air. It was hard to see, but their practiced feet kept their balance amid the shaking. The rubber soles of their boots slapped loudly on the ground, heard only faintly over the low rumbles issuing from beneath them.

Just as the quaking stopped and the two thought that it was over, liquid spewed from all the sewage drains along the sidewalks. The few pedestrians who had not gotten out of the rumbling streets were drenched in the liquid. The liquid was as clear as water, but it proved to be something much more harmful. Screams and cries issued from those who were hit, their skin slowly began to blister. All of them were gripping wherever the acidic liquid met their bodies and continued to scream out in pain.

The only two that weren't affected by the liquid were the two assassins who looked around in shock at the people around them. One by one, the poor pedestrians collapsed. Now they were huddled into writhing balls, some fingers gouging at their eyes which were beginning to burn from the liquid.

The assassins were about to help the men when another explosion, too close to them that time, occurred. The Natasha Romanoff was thrown off guard and was knocked off her feet. She landed on the ground, pebbles lodged in her hands which had stopped her fall. Her partner, Clint Barton, had managed to keep his balance and hauled the her up. They began to run again, the dying pedestrians forgotten.

At the end of the street, a helicopter was waiting for them, the rotors whirring in an almost welcoming sound. Natasha grasped her partner's arm and helped him onto the rope ladder hanging from the copter. She had one foot in the helicopter when shots began to be fired. One bullet managed to go straight through the open window and was embedded into the pilot's forehead. Immediately, the helicopter began to fall and the two assassins quickly leaped out of the falling craft. The other two agents who were in the helicopter weren't as fast and were still trapped as it landed with a crash and went up in a plume of smoke and flames.

Immediately, the two assassins were surrounded by men in masks. All of the masked men were carrying weapons varying in sizes from semi- automatic pistols to machine guns. The woman's hand automatically went for her hand guns and the man grabbed his bow, one hand over his shoulder to grab an arrow. But as they glanced around at the dozens of armed men, they knew they were outnumbered and outgunned.

Surprisingly, no one shot them, but they had circled around them with the guns pointed in their direction. The assassins stood their ground, not lowering their weapons. When a loud cough issued from somewhere outside the circle, their heads snapped around, searching for the person who made the sound.

A man made his way through the ring of masked men. He was tall and lean with light-colored hair. He was carrying no weapons, but his presence unnerved Natasha. She felt as if she had met him before, but she had no idea when or where. Pushing his sunglasses onto the top of his head, the man stared them down, his piercing green eyes searching them. His roving eyes rested on the woman's low-cut, skintight cat suit, making her want to pull the zipper up a little higher.

His mouth stretched into a wide grin his bright white teeth slightly blinding the two assassins. Adjusting his expensive-looking suit, he stepped closer to Natasha. Clint tensed and moved towards her.

The green-eyed man smirked at the movement. "Now, now," he said, "you don't have to do that. I would not dare to hurt your partner." An accent which the assassins couldn't place coloured the man's speech. "Do you know who I am?"

The assassins stayed silent. The other man clucked his tongue.

"Good," he said leaning closer to Natasha who tried not to cringe at the proximity. He smiled again. "I know who you are. I know who you work with. I know everything about you two."

The words were met with silence. The usual sounds of traffic and even birds chirping seemed to have disappeared. There wasn't a single sound except for the shallow breathing of the two assassins.

The man spoke again. "Detain them," he ordered the masked men.

At once, the assassins were grabbed from all directions, their struggles futile. Their weapons were taken from them and stowed away by one of the men. Natasha shouted out a string of curses in Russian. Clint managed to take out two of the masked men, but then five more took their place. Two hard punched to the head knocked the him out. His partner had her head hit against the ground which put her into unconsciousness as well.

16:21 24-AUG-09, UNKNOWN LOCATION

"You will tell me what you took." A slap to the face caused Natasha to scowl at her attacker. "Tell me or I will cut out your tongue."

She stayed silent. The muscular man slapped her again, then reached into his pocket and took out a small serrated knife. As soon as he held it within an inch of her face, she kicked his kneecaps hard with her feet. With her hands tied behind her back and onto the chair, she stood up, silently thanking that they didn't bind her feet as well. The three other men who were standing guard charged at her, but she beat them all back using the plastic chair as a weapon. Whirling around, she threw off whoever jumped her, and soon enough only one man was left.

The last man saw that it was useless to fight her empty-handed, so he picked up his fallen comrade's knife and held it in front of him. As he ran towards her brandishing the knife, she spun around again. The man wasn't fast enough to react and had the knife thrown out of his grip. In a last futile attempt to subdue her, he grabbed her around the legs and pulled her down. The bindings kept Natasha attached to the chair, so she was lying with her back to the ground and her feet dangling above her. As the attacker was about to make the final blow to her head, she rolled out of the way, kicking the man in the groin.

"Bitch!" he groaned in German.

Natasha pushed herself off the ground. As she did, she noticed a row of weapons along one wall of the room. Various daggers and axes were facing out which provided her a perfect place to cut off her binds. Once free, she went back to the man who was still moaning and punched his head.

"Moron," she muttered to the unconscious man.

Finally not having to defend herself, she got a good look at the room. It seemed to be a deserted factory of some sort. Old machines lay unused and rusting throughout the room. The concrete walls were crumbling revealing the pipes and metal frame behind it. There was only one floor, but the ceilings were very high. No windows made it difficult for the woman to find out where she was.

One doorway led out to a large hallway. Natasha picked up a couple of pocket knives and a stray gun and put it into her now-empty belt around her waist. Her leather cat suit was torn in some places, but it wasn't anything that she couldn't fix. Her thick-soled boots were still both on and fastened. Her long red hair was tangled and plastered to her forehead by sweat.

With a determined expression, she set off down the hallway to find her partner.

16:30 24-AUG-09, UNKNOWN LOCATION

Clint sat, tied to an examination table. His whole body was bound by thick leather straps rendering him incapable of even twitching his wrists. Another masked man stood over him holding a remote control. Two other men were in the shadows watching the scene unfold.

"One last time," the man holding the remote said. "What did you take from the crypt? The crypt, what the hell did you take from it?"

Clint's mouth didn't budge and was rewarded with an extremely painful electric shock. The masked man had pushed a button causing electricity to course through his entire body.

As he lay panting, the masked man looked down at him. "You will tell me. Otherwise, we'll kill the woman."

"Which woman?" The metal door was opened with a bang, hitting one of the men by the door. A red-headed woman stood with a gun in her hand. She was glaring at the man with the remote. "Put the remote down," she said quietly in a menacing tone.

The masked man seemed to be grinning. "Get her," he ordered.

Natasha disposed of the two other masked men as easily as she had the ones just a few minutes prior. She was about to shoot the man with the remote when he held it out precariously.

"Put the gun down or I will kill this man." He gestured to Clint on the table. His finger hovered over a small blue button on the remote.

The red-head looked from the masked man to her partner. Her partner's face was covered with sweat but his light eyes conveyed the message that he knew her plan. Natasha made to put her gun down and discreetly drew a knife from her boot.

"Now, woman," the masked man said. "Stand still. This will only hurt your partner for a little bit."

"Like hell," Natasha growled. She threw the knife straight at the masked man's head, his eyes widening slightly as the blade made its mark. The masked man collapsed with blood dripping down his forehead.

She hurriedly unstrapped her partner from the table. He sat up groaning. She stomped on the remote that was in the fallen man's hand and it broke into several small pieces.

"Thanks," Clint said. "Black Widow."

"I'm just glad you're not dead, Hawkeye."

A/N: Please R&R, but no flames!