"You are both almost ready," the pacing trainer purred. "Not too much longer, and you will finally reach your purpose."

Agents 1392 and 1393 didn't move. They had been doing this for far too long to let anything, even a mention of their life-long goal, to distract them. Their eyes didn't even follow the trainer as he crossed the room in front of them.

"Calling the shots," the trainer said, motioning towards the visible targets scattered across the rear of the room. More would appear as the exercise went on. There were two different figures represented, and both Agents trained with them regularly.

Both agents nodded.

"10m, 0100," said Agent 1392. His silenced handgun barely shook as the target crumpled.

"12m, 1130," matched Agent 1393 with her first knife.

"15m, 0400."

A figure swung out from the floor, but Agent 1393 didn't miss a beat. "25m, 1000."

The two fell into a rapid cadence, demolishing everything that appeared.

Part way through the exercise, they both heard the tread of someone entering the room from behind them.

"As always Agents: tell me, why are you here?" he growled.

Agent 1392 answered as he took his shot. "Our parents were agents before us, sir."

"They were a credit to their trainers and the organisation," Agent 1393 continued. Both of them were speaking out of habit – focusing as little on the words as they were the two men in the room with them. Targets were still falling in front of them.

"But they defected to the enemy," scowled 1392.

"Let us behind in an exploded shell of a building," snapped 1393.

"And sold all our secrets to terrorists who used it to hurt innocent civilians."

"So what are you going to do?" the man asked softly.

"We will find them."

"Both of them."

"And finally avenge everything they have done to us,"

"And everyone else they have betrayed," said 1392, as he took out the last of the targets and lowered his gun.

"Hopefully, exactly like you do their target replicas," the trainer said, walking back to the end of the room. "All hits… wait, except this one that didn't come out properly."

Everyone saw a single target still lying on the floor, waiting to be pushed up.

"That will be dealt with," said the other man. "What about the rest?"

"All head shots," said the trainer.

The man behind 1392 and 1393 sounded pleased. "Soon you will be able to go after them. You are almost ready."

"When sir?" risked 1393. "We have waited our entire lives to make up for our parents' treason."

"Soon," he said simply, and left the room.

"I wish they weren't our parents, Luka" 1393 said, once the door had been shut behind the trainer.

1392 shrugged. "Think of them only as biological influences then, Aleks. That's what I do."

Aleksandra wandered over to the target that was still lying down. In the next room, they both heard the sound of the technician being punished for his incompetence.

Luka put his hand on his sisters' shoulder. "Not much longer, Aleks. And then they won't be anything anymore."

Aleks' eyes never left the target, but she nodded. "Traitor," she spat, and kicked out at the fallen target.

It wasn't her problem.

This cut-out of Clint Barton could wait until their next session.