„Are you kidding?"
Clint Barton held up the portrait of his next target. It was a pretty young girl with brown hair and intense blue eyes. Agent Fury just shook his head.
„This is the Black Widow?" Clint waved the photograph. „How old is she, fifteen?"
„Nineteen," said agent Fury without a hint of unease. Clint wondered how he did that.
It was not like Clint hadn't killed young people before. Some of them were even innocent bystanders caught in crossfire. But this... if this was really the famous spy, she had to be a piece of artwork. Made by twisted, cruel and evil art, surely, but still extraordinary. This girl, who should be somewhere in high school gossiping about the head cheerleader, had a body count higher than some of the seasoned SHIELD agents he knew. Twenty bodies and twice as much successful spy missions.
„How...?" He let the rest of the question hanging in the air. What did he want to know? How is it possible? How to kill her?
„She got in wrong hands when she was very young." That was all Fury said.
Clint looked at her face again. There was only six years difference between them and he too had a body count at her age, although not nearly this high. Still, this was going to feel like murdering a child.
He had to remind himself of the things he heard about her. He saw the footage from one of her kills, a member of Kiev underworld. It was a poison, strangely apt weapon, considering her codename. The victim died in horrible pain and it wasn't quick either. It looked like she chose the most cruel way to do her job. Nineteen or not, a person like this was not a child and about as far from innocent as you can get.
Clint flipped through the file in front of him and found a plane ticket. He was supposed to fly to Saint Petersburg in two days. That meant that the Black Widow had a week or two to live.
„Can you do it?" asked Fury. Clint wasn't sure if it wasn't just his imagination, but he heard a slight doubt in his voice.
He gave him his hardened assassin look. „Of course I can."
„Good, because if you screw up one more time..."
Clint was on his feet before he realized he was moving. He immediately regretted it, but didn't sit down. „Marty wasn't my fault," he growled, not believing his own words. Still, he had to defend himself.
„Letting the enemy obtain a valuable piece of information was," Fury retorted. „I saved your job for you, so don't open your mouth on me like that. Because I can pull out Johannesburg any time and have you fired on the spot. So shut up and kill her," he pointed to the file.
„Fine!" Clint slammed the file shut and stormed to the door. He was on his way out, when one more thing came to his mind. He turned to Fury. „Does she have a name? You always talk about the Widow but she must be called something else, right?"
Fury smirked. „If you need to know... it's Romanoff. Natasha Romanoff."