Far beneath the city, the archer known as Hawkeye lay unconscious on a bed made of concrete. His wrists bound by magical red glowing restraints and his head pillowed by hard slab.
Above him stood a mystical creature known as Jinn; the Jinn had taken on a human form. Tall, slender, bald and covered with an assortment of tattoos, the Jinn smiled down upon his prey. Capturing an S.H.E.I.L.D agent had been no easy task but never the less it had been the wish of his master, Dr. Artemus Berman. It was a known fact that Berman held close ties with HYDRA. If in fact HYDRA found him extremely valuable. Berman had found a way to trap his enemies in dream like state and he had chosen Clint Barton to be his first official test subject.
"So you have the archer?" Berman appeared behind the Jinn, an eager smile on his face. The Jinn turned offering the doctor his palm.
The doctor smiled again and reached into his pocket, retrieving a miniature candy bar. As folklore had it, Jinns loved sweets.
"Has the transition process begun?" Berman asked watching the Jinn devour the candy.
The Jinn nodded and directed the Doctors attention to the I.V. port that had been placed in Clint's neck. The I.V. port would be used to drain the archer's blood which in time would be studied and then used to create an army of super assassin's, all sporting abilities similar to Clint's'.
"Excellent!" Berman hissed as he made his way about the Jinn to his captive. "I trust that he is off somewhere reliving his greatest adventures?" Legend stated that Jinn had the power to move objects and living creatures into a parallel universe, one of which their captives could not escape. Berman, the bastard hoped to make a mint off of it.
Again, the Jinn smiled and extended his hand, this time touching the center of Clint's forehead.
Dream World
The sound of the calliope floated through the air filling Clint's mind with a sense of peace. It had been a long time since the archer had stepped foot in a travelling circus. Much to his surprise it still felt like home.
Gazing around, Clint eyes drank in all of the familiar sights. It was exactly as he remembered it.
"Hey, you are going to show me the sights here or what?' The sound of Natasha's voice broke Clint from his trance. She was standing in front of him, dressed in her customary black only this time it was a little less uniformed. A form fitting black t-shirt, and black leather pants perfectly blended into her knee high boots.
"Sure," Clint smiled as she reached for his hand.
S.H.E.I.L.D.
The team sat in the conference room gazing at an empty chair, the chair that had been designated for Clint. The conference call from Fury ordering them to assemble had come in thirty minutes ago. Every member of the team was present, save for one.
"He should really be here by now," Natasha commented her voice filled with worry. It wasn't like her partner to be late.
"Maybe he got caught in something," Bruce offered.
Tony pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose so that his eyes were visible, "something or someone?"
"Must you always be so crass?" Steve interjected making it clear to everyone that Tony's comment was offensive.
"Relax, Captain Johnny Be Good, I only meant that he could be caught up in a mission."
"No, you didn't," Bruce countered as Natasha tossed them all a heated glare.
"Something's wrong, I can feel it. Clint would never miss a call from Fury."
"You're Damn Right!" Fury entered the room with Hawkeye's empty quiver in hand. "Does someone want to tell me how in the hell this ended up in the middle of Central Park!"
All present fell silent as Fury tossed the empty blood stained quiver onto the table.