High above the Budai Landscape Protection Area, a shadow whirled past, the trees whistling and rustling in a gesture of farewell. Inside the helicopter sat seven people, including the pilot. On one side of the open body sat Natasha, and opposite her sat Clint. Her red hair was left as it was, and the wind tunnel created by the helicopter whipped her hair to and fro with every kilometer they transcended upon the Hungarian landscape. They were both in uniform; Natasha was in her tight but warm battle suit, and Clint had his arrows and bow. Spread across the rest of the helicopter seats sat four people, all in S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform and all silent. They knew enough not to listen to the conversations that Natasha and Clint – Their overseers – were having, and had spent most of the helicopter ride checking over their gear and psyching themselves up.
"This is ridiculous." Natasha murmured, and Clint's keen ears picked up her comment above the helicopter's noise.
"It's not that bad, really." He replied, fingering the tip of his bow. "They'll behave themselves, and listen to instructions. I've taken a few interns in my time, it'll be fine."
"Yeah, it'll be fine for you. But don't you think Fury was a little misguided when he put me in charge along with you? This is all a big mistake and it won't be long before something bad happens." Natasha muttered.
"We have a base set up, and Phil will supervise them when we arrive, it will be fine, Tasha." Clint put his hand on her arm, and her suit was strangely cold. He lowered his voice. "No one is going to die."
Natasha sighed and put her hand over his. "At someone else's hand, maybe."
Clint's grip tightened affectionately. "That wasn't your fault, Tasha. It was just a mission gone awry, you can't keep blaming yourself for shooting him."
"He died, Clint. He died because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time and I shot him. I shot him and he died, and now they are trusting me with four naïve little kids, as if I'm their babysitter. I don't think you understand how serious this really is, Clint." Natasha's voice had an edge to it, and Clint tightened his jaw. He looked over to the four interns sitting in the helicopter, who all had their heads down, and one had her hand laid upon her gun holster.
"We'll talk about this later, okay Tasha?" Clint said, and without waiting for her to respond, he raised his voice so everyone in the helicopter could hear. "Okay listen up kids, I want to get introductions over with, so I want you all to tell me your name, age, rank and what agency you transferred from." He waved a hand between him and Natasha. "I'm sure you know both myself and Agent Romanoff from your mission debriefs." Then he pointed at the woman who had her hand on her gun. "Go."
She hesitated and looked between her team mates, who offered no support whatsoever, and cleared her throat. "I'm Agent Kratt, and-"
"I can't hear you!" Clint yelled, putting a hand to his ear, then gesturing for her to speak up, annoyed. She cleared her throat again and sat a little straighter.
"I'm Agent Kratt from the Caviller department, I am a trainee and I am twenty-three years old." She pointed to the man sitting next to her. "Agent Benton is my colleague."
Clint gestured and the other agents spoke in turn: apart from Kratt and Benton, there was Agents Gregory and Phillips. Clint wasn't really listening to the rest of their bio, and neither was Natasha. She was looking down at the landscape of the country, plotting escape routes and ambush sites.
"Alright guys we're over the landing site, so I'm gonna circle around, and you're going to parachute in, alright?" The pilot's com broke the silence. Clint gave the pilot the signal, and the helicopter veered to the right, creating a large arch over the middle of the forest.
"Everyone follow my lead!" Clint yelled before tightening his straps, and hurling himself over the edge. He was freefalling for an exhilarating few seconds, feeling the familiar air rushing past his anatomy, the friction causing a burning sensation on his exposed arms and face, and he felt weightless for what seemed like the few seconds that decided his life. Then he pulled the cord, and the light blue material opened, and he was wretched back just before he hit the canopy. When he looked up, he could see similar parachutes; the intern's and then Natasha's smaller, more agile one. Specially designed for her, it allowed her to glide soundlessly over a large amount of area quickly, and when she took it off it would offer her warmth and shelter. There were different types, and the one she had today matched theirs – light blue on the bottom like the sky, and mottled green on the top like the canopy. Their parachutes were definitely going to get caught on the branches, so this offered camouflage while they retrieved it.
He hit the leaf line and braced himself, his elbows coming up and shielding his face, curling himself into a ball so he could break through the branches. He snapped through and narrowly missed the thick branch of a large tree before he was jerked back into suspension. His parachute had covered the top of the canopy, and the slack from the cords was gone. He waited for the other interns to break through the leafy rooftop, clumsily and noisily. He knew Natasha wouldn't be seen coming through, the thinner cords and her smaller size making less noise, while the slipper fabric of her parachute meant she could disarm it much easier than they could. She would return to them when she had done her own patrol of the area.
Clint attached the rope he had wound around his waist to the harness, and released the catch. It wasn't far to drop to the forest floor, but he rolled as he hit the ground just in case. The rope cascaded down, where it hung waiting to be jerked on to work the parachute free of the branches and leaves. Clint motioned and the interns dropped too, but much noisier than he had wanted.
The interns heard nothing, but Clint definitely did, because immediately drew, turned and aimed behind him at a bush, his arrow nocked to his bow and the laser vision landing on a clothed chest.
"Always vigilant, Agent Barton." Phil laughed as he stepped out, with his weapons-free hands in the air. He waved them to follow him. "The area's secure, we've just done the third patrol." As soon as he began talking, men came out of the bushes and began to work the parachutes from leaf roof.
They walked into a clearing, where there were cabins and rooms set up, the rooms housing electronics and the cabins housing beds.
"You and Agent Romanoff will be housed together, I hope you don't mind." Phil said, his eyes smiling silently. Clint cleared his throat and tried not to be affected by the fact that Phil knew.
"I've had worse."