Zdravstvuyte
The shadows cast from the wastefully clad guests in the soft angles and indecipherable masses were notably more elegant than the calculating frowns of their creators. A gloved hand traced along a freshly polished curling oak banister as Sonja made her was to join the babbling benefactors. Leaflets of conversations rustled not long enough to take root but simply flew past on the careful air of disinterest her fellow hosts held about them. With a sharp nod of her head and a demure curve of her lips, she joined the nearest transaction.
Arms dealing can be tricky business when neither party particularly trusted the other.
Jewels painted the necklines of her most generous buyer and in their pristine surfaces, she could make out the warning flash of the smallest red dot. Sonja shifted with a subtle flip of her hair to block the shot and simultaneously tapped her earpiece.
"Ma'am, I do believe my husband is coming down with something fatal." she said.
Even if she did not have a husband to speak of, the message was abundantly clear—the event was compromised because Black Widow herself was present.
"Take care of it, Chief. I need this night to be spotless."
"Got it."
Security hustled onto the floor at Sonja's signal to escort each of the dozen or so guests back to their armored vehicles.
With the prompting of her boss in her ear, Sonja slipped out the back door to attempt to uncover any tracks the Widow might have left behind.
The wet asphalt did little to help her heels find traction as she scanned the nearest buildings for the optimal vantage point the spy must have taken to train a snipper on people under her protection. With the rest of her security team busy locking down the premises, she was left to the goose chase even though looking for tracks from this particular prey was about as promising as searching for footprints after a storm.
She tensed when something popped right beside her ear and the sharp slap of metal hit her cheek. She scolded her hammering heart and forced a calm gaze to the arrow that kissed her skin and was now imbedded in the wall. Her hand went to the dual blades tucked against her thighs knowing full well that any assassin after her would not be foolish enough to miss twice.
A test of her ear piece told her its signal had been knocked out somehow. A heavy pair of boots splashed down beside her and she whipped into a defensive pose before the archer could cut her mission short.
The man kneeling across from her had his bow pressed to the ground and his black stealth suit clinging to him like any woman in her proper mind would in a scenario a little less lethal than this. Given a situation where she were allowed to use her real name and wash the blonde dye from her hair, she might have done just that because his looks were wasted on the dark, filthy streets of Samara, Russia.
"Hello, easy, Chief. I'm not here for you. Sonic took out your communications, also I was listening in a little bit, Ma'am is a weird name. Is that like the birth one or did she rename herself that? I'm looking for the Widow. You know anything?"
"Does anyone?" she flicked her blades so they would glint in warning beneath the lazy stars.
"They sent one person out to challenge her? Seems a little under kill. Unless you're just the bait."
She advanced a step to show just how much of a danger she truly was. His mouth curved up in amusement when he rose from his crouch. "You're not going to let me leave," he said.
"I fear my boss will want to speak with anyone chasing her."
"Knew better," he sighed. "Alright, let's do this before I have to check out of my hotel."
Her first swipe cut only into nothing as he swiveled around to her back. She feigned left, sweeping her right foot back to catch his ankles.
"Woah, who taught you that?" he demanded, dancing over the attack.
While she paused to process his stunned remark his completely unstunned body cracked his bow against her forehead. She grabbed at his forearm, twisting until it clattered free of his grip. "Quiet, American."
"Was it Hill?" he carried on. "You with S.H.I.E.L.D?"
Now she faltered and he did not take the opportunity to jam any of his color coordinated arrows into her temple.
"I wasn't told of another operative here," he babbled.
She slammed her shoulder into his chest and landed him flat on his ass where she could properly threaten him.
"I'm handling it."
"This is about as under control as a mouse wrestling a snake."
"You realize I'm pinning you right," she demanded, dropping her knees to either side of his hips and pressing the flats of her blades against either of his wrists.
"That means nothing. I'm letting you. Just so you know, they asked me to do your job first. Also, the first and last fight I had with the Widow ended with my jaw dislocated. That was back when I cornered her in Milan. That makes me a mouse too."
"Sadly, I think that just makes more dinner for the snake instead of an overwhelming force."
He shrugged his eyebrows and glanced down pointedly. With a sigh she crawled to sit beside him as he grunted and rolled onto his stomach. Hands propped under his head as princess worthy blue eyes fluttered up at her. "Feel better? I think you missed bruising one of my ribs if you wanted a clean sweep."
"I was going to ask why Fury didn't tell me you were coming, but pretending you don't exist does seem to be the only way to deal with your bullshit."
"Supposed to be super top fucking secret but since you kind of outed me, not cool by the way, want to work together to charm a snake?"
"Is she a spider or a snake, man? Make up your damn mind."
He rocked back, clutching his knees as a laugh barreled through him. "Oh, I like you. You don't get a say now. We're working together. Got something more stealthy than that yellow dress?"
She did not give one rat's ass how he got into her apartment only that he could have possibly blown her cover.
"Brought flowers. Told the doorman I wanted to surprise you."
"Was the surprise that I had a boyfriend?" she deadpanned as she shrugged off her bulky overcoat.
"Fiancé, when he asks but that's not why I'm here. I need your help bringing her in. She vanished, shook all my tracking abilities. From what I hear, you're pretty handy with the underworld system."
"If you hear anything then I'm doing my job wrong. Why would you want her brought in anyway? Isn't protocol to take out someone that rouge and dangerous?"
He gave his knees a firm pat before pushing off them to match their heights. "I think she could prove an asset. I made this call. If it goes south, it's on me. I know I'm asking you to compromise yourself but from what I can tell, the Widow is more involved in mafia's inner working than the little crew you head. We find her, we get you your hot target too."
"Ma'am is a pretty cold-hearted bitch from ghost chatter I've picked up."
A tug of his grey hoodie secured it around his face for a safety net just in case anyone was spying in from the dirt smeared window to their right. Sonja was afforded no such luxury because her face was always bared to the world. She was buried way too deep in her world of shit to risk disguises. "Funny. We should work well together."
"What's your clearance?" She demanded.
The space of her apartment was deemed worthy of her retailer to host grand parties of up to a dozen people but she already felt stuffy with his confident presence entirely too close to her though he remained clear across the green wallpapered room with his feet twisting into her recently purchased, hand woven rug. It was probably worth three times his ratty boots with its intricate depiction of a fanfare of angels descending the heavens; this man was no angel.
"Alpha."
"That doesn't exist. Ten is the highest. I would know, I was the reason they created it."
A tilt of his head told her he was only amused with her declaration and not in awe like all other inferiors she came across. "Welcome to Alpha then. I'll fill you in on the plane."
"I thought you didn't know where she was."
"I said she shook me. That doesn't mean I don't know her well enough to predict where she would go. Pack light, Budapest can be unforgiving this time of year."
"Got a name?"
"Got a code, Hawkeye. Yours?"
"Zero."
Being nearly run over three time while crossing a single street was a personal record for Sonja. Hawkeye was weighed down beneath a tan backpack filled with waters, old and clunky laptops, maps, granola bars (as if she could live off of those along), and a very distinct lack of weapons. Hawkeye had insisted on leaving them behind because airport security did not make exceptions for undercover agents and using a private jet would raise too many eyebrows. He had extracted her daggers from her and then held his hand out expectantly for the spares he could not have known she kept tucked neatly between her planner and wallet in her purse. She felt slightly less naked when he tossed his bow as well but still would rather not relying on their combined wit and charm since her partner appeared to be painfully lacking in both and making up for it with 100 proof sarcasm.
The wind buckled with the weight of the dry air it carried and tugged at the ends of Sonja's hastily dyed and chopped off brunette locks. A sunhat kept the loose waves mashed against her face and even bigger sunglasses kept the prying sun at bay along with Hawkeye's dancing glances back to make sure she was keeping up with his soundless steps.
"Come on," he called even though the only closer she could have been to him would be to just piggyback it.
"Where is the safe house again?" she called over the roar of traffic.
He pause while a couple bustled between them, their heads bent in deep conversation then nodded politely to a minister though she doubted his devilish grin could even point out a church. "Next block. You wanna take over bag duty? I've got this crick in my neck I haven't been able to shake since the plane."
"That's because you were stupid enough to sleep on the plane. On my shoulder no less. There's a drool stain."
The bag was tossed at her chest where her hands caught it without the aid of her gaze leaving his. "If your posture was more slumped we wouldn't have this problem."
"Excuse me for remaining vigilant."
"Trust me, your people don't know you're missing yet. You've probably got until noon." His eyes skipped between his blank wrist and the sun overhead to judge the time. "And once we get set up with internet, I will clear the airways of anything we might have left behind. Say, do you think you could give me some sort of reaction? The constant dead expression is a bit intimidating."
"I can see why the Widow dislocated your jaw, you talk too much."
She spotted the covert insignia for S.H.I.E.L.D. and pushed past him to key in the day's number sequence for entrance. There was distinct absence of air conditioning when they entered the stale room sitting on the basement level of what appeared to be the back of a tourist ice cream shop. Hawkeye's bulky jacket hit the floor then his paisley shirt was tossed over the back of a chair that used to be sand colored but appeared to have been recently stained with globs of red. His back hit the ground as he fiddled with the window unit and Sonja set to toeing along the perimeter of their quarters.
She came across the outlet first sitting adjacent to the Ethernet cable in the far right corner. After depositing the backpack for him to fiddle with later on, she peeled off her overcoat and tank top while she stuck her head into the bathroom to check on the water situation. What trickled from the sink was lukewarm at coldest and the pressure in the shower was laughable but at least the toilet flushed and air freshener hung from the doorknob. Its orange tree shape was swinging in the next moment as blessed air filled the cramped space.
Sonja emerged from the bathroom with her sports bra held away from her damp skin. "Guess you are useful."
"Do me a favor and check the freezer." He toed off his boots as he walked, adding more of his shit to the mess that made her fingers twitch to clean only slightly.
"Think they left us frozen dinners? Because you're health nut bars are not going to cut it Hawk."
"I'll order pizza for us," he called with a wink as he tapped away on the booting up monster of a laptop.
She grumbled her response and pried open the rusted closed freezer doors that concealed an inside that somehow felt hotter than the oven of a city. Two metal cases rested inside, one smaller and snugly sitting atop
"You know how to defuse bombs right?" she called, eyes tracing the otherwise empty white cubicle for any wire or trigger.
"That's a no. They're presents from Fury."
She did not move to take his word for it but instead carefully shifted the boxes sideways while sliding her hand where they sat in case it was weight sensitive. When she felt only the sleek, flat bottom, she cautiously picked up the bottom box from either edge with just the tips of her fingers and walked it as far away from Hawkeye as she could manage.
"For Christ's sake, Z. I special requested those. Look, the code is 1971 on the bigger one and all zeroes on the other because I'm brilliant. If those don't work then you can pull out your bomb squad suit." He strode over, task forgotten, and squatted beside her kneeling form. "I'm not sure whether I'm offended you don't trust me or flattered you're trying to keep my out of harm's way."
She flinched when he keyed in the numbers and passed her the first case carelessly before punching in his own and flipping the lid up to reveal and brand-spanking-new carbon fiber and purple streaked bow.
"Stealthy." Sonja pulled out her own sleek new dagger set. Four blades so sharp just the skimming of her fingers drew their first blood. "Gorgeous."
"I'm going to assume both of those were for me. Look, since I slept earlier, you take this round and I'll wake you when night says it's time to move."
When she made no move to do as such, he groaned and jutted out his hand. "Clint," he said.
"What," she snapped.
"That's my name. Clint Barton. 1971 is the year I was born."
"Is this supposed to make me trust you?"
"What? You want my social security number? Passport? Birth certificate? To be honest, I have so many of those I probably couldn't pinpoint the original for you."
She glanced down to hide the smiled curving up her lips and tucked a single dagger into her calf high sock. After refolding the hem of her khaki shorts, she felt composed enough to meet his impatient blue eyes. His smile was quick and brilliant and caught her so off guard she returned it, still vulnerable from the previous moments.
"There she is. Listen miss bomb technician, that why they call you zero? Because of the countdown? Anyway, if you don't sleep you risk both our asses tonight and I happen to have a fine ass. As a gentleman I have not checked yours out but I am willing to bet that it's at least half as good as mine."
"If I go to sleep will you shut up?"
He touched his scarred knuckles against her cheek and lugged his new toys over to the ancient ones where he set up shop for the next few hours. The flimsy mattress with springs poking out every few inches was tucked away between the window and the front door and Sonja barely got her coat down on it before her head crashed against her arm for her pillow and her eyes tapped out.
To be continued