Chapter 2
The airport was a short distance from the city but there was too much open space to be able to travel on foot the entire way. As the buildings began to thin, Natasha hailed a taxi.
"Repülőtér" she called to the driver, sliding down into the back seat. With a curt nod from the driver they pulled back into traffic.
She watched as the few remaining buildings slid by in a grey haze. The airport slowly appeared out of the fog and a chorus of horns rang out when the taxi driver made an invasive turn across traffic so he could pull into the off-ramp. The driver grunted and Natasha took this as a sort of apology. Manners were obviously a foreign concept.
The taxi came to a stop outside the main terminal a rough voice called out the fare from the front of the cab. She passed him the money, no tip. Bag in hand, she moved from the taxi into the awaiting crowd, slamming the door behind her.
Papers flew everywhere as he hurried to gather information. Knowing an archer was on her tail, the subject would be out of the country within a matter of hours. But how?
He knew she had a pilot's license, she had used it often enough. Even if she had been shifting between names it was his best bet that she would be at the airport.
Suddenly an explosion echoed throughout the city, followed by wailing sirens, "Damnnit" he muttered under his breath, hurrying towards the door.
The cold air hit him like a brick wall and his teeth chattered insistently as he strode away from the house. After getting in the black SUV he had been loaned by SHEILD and placing his bow and quiver in the passenger seat, he powered up the GPS and entered his destination. The airport, although a short distance away, it was imperative he took the fastest route possible.
He then began to once again report back to SHIELD "Agent Barton, currently on route to Budapest Airport, requesting an immediate no-fly recommendation on these names." He then began to list his targets known aliases, "… And Natasha Romanoff."
Another agent met his request "Copy that, Agent Barton, we have alerted the airport and have operatives keeping watch".
The main terminal was brightly lit compared to the grey fog that hung in the air outside. Service desks ran the length of the far wall. A man sat with his arms folded lazily across his chest next to a door. Slumped against his chair with his hat pulled down over his eyes he barely acknowledged Natasha as she approached.
The guards pager was flashing, no doubt a warning from SHIELD and Natasha flipped open her pilots license. With an exasperated sigh he slid his key card through the machine next to the doorframe. Natasha pushed the heavy metal door as the guard fumbled with his pager. He did a double take just before Natasha had slammed the door and retrieved a jammer from her pack. Slapping it onto the door and tapping in the activation code.
She could hear the guard desperately swiping his card and repeatedly being denied access. Giving up he signalled the other guards by speaking frantically into his walkie-talkie. Heavy steps on the linoleum echoed through the door and down the hallway as the other guards approached.
Natasha slipped away from the door and moved along the grey speckled walls. She secured two more jammers onto the next two doors, blocking of all access into that section of the building. The final door opened and revealed a cloakroom for the airports employees. Locking the door behind her she picked the lock of the closest locker and pulled out a pilot's uniform that consisted of a crisp white shirt, black dress pants and a black blazer. She quickly assumed her new role and placed the accompanying pilot's hat, which she had found in the locker, on her head.
She grabbed her pack and searched the bottom layer of the bags contents. As a final precaution, she pulled a thigh holster and her handgun from the pack and hid it beneath the tails of her blazer. She unlocked the door and moved back into the hallway. The buzzing of an electric tool, being used to open one of the doors, filled the long room. She moved back to the second door and deactivated the jammer. She looked back to check the other doors and then stepped out into the grey light of the tarmac.
He arrived at the airport and flashed his credentials at the parking supervisor. He spied a broad shouldered man at one of the back doors that led into the car park. The SUV came to a stop beside him. He exited the truck and pulled his bow and quiver with him.
"What's the situation, Agent…?" He prompted the man, who had since removed a pair of dark sunglasses.
"Agent Williams. We have yet to acquire a visual on the target. We don't want to send in any men if we don't have to. We're counting on you to get her out without kicking up too much of a fuss, that's the last thing we need at the mome nt." The other agent replied.
Suddenly the man's communicator beeped and a rough voice came from the other end. "Target has infiltrated security door number three in the main terminal. I repeat, target has infiltrated security door number three."
Barton grabbed Agent Williams arm and questioned him "What is behind security door number three?" He shook his arm, urging him to answer.
"Nothing, besides a few cloakrooms and… and…" He eyed Barton nervously, "And a door out onto the tarmac but, she wouldn't, would she?"
Barton tightened his grip around the other agents arm and growled, "Make sure every one of your men is out on that tarmac, and tell them to check anywhere and everywhere. Communicator?" Agent Williams pulled an extra communicator from his pocket and handed it to Barton but before he could utter another word, Barton had taken off in the direction of the far corner of the building.
He relayed the instructions into his communicator and the rough voice responded, "How do you know she will be out on the tarmac?" Agent Williams called after Barton.
Barton yelled back at the operative, "Because she is going to steal a plane."