SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE, EVERYONE. IF ANYONE AT ALL IS STILL INTERESTED, I'LL BE UPDATING THIS STORY A LOT MORE FREQUENTLY THAN ONCE EVERY THREE YEARS (I.E. DAILY)
Dawn was breaking on the Barton homestead. The wind whistled through the leaves, causing the branches to shake slightly. Clint awoke suddenly as he heard a commotion through the window. He got out of bed, moving carefully as not to disturb his sleeping wife. As he opened the shade, he saw a black SUV with no license plates roll up in front of the house. This could not be a good sign.
Clint reached under his bed, pulling out the bow and quiver he kept there. He shouldered the quiver, and made his way downstairs. He moved stealthily throughout the house, before stopping in one of the many safe lookout places inside. He was able to have a clear shot, and was about to draw when he saw a red-haired woman step out of the vehicle.
"Clint!" She shouted in the general direction of his bedroom window.
Clint walked over to the door and opened it, surprising the woman. "Nat?" He asked. The woman was Natasha Romanoff, a fellow spy and assassin better known as Black Widow. "Next time give me some warning." He gestured to the bow. "I was a second from putting an arrow through you."
"Sorry, Clint, but S.H.I.E.L.D. asked me to bring this to you as soon as possible." She handed him a manila envelope full of papers.
"But Nat, I'm on leave."
"I know that Clint, and I'm sorry, but something very strange is going on, and we need you."
"Fine. What's the mission?" He walked over to the table in the kitchen, and gestured to a seat. "Coffee?" he asked, and Nat shook her head. Clint nodded in response, and poured himself a mug before sitting down and opening the folder.
"A strange, unmarked envelope was sent to the headquarters. What we found inside was and invitation addressed directly to you."
"An invitation to what."
"Some sort of tournament for archers. It's set to be held just outside of New York in a week's time, according to this information here. Fury wants you to go under the guise of competing in order to investigate."
Clint nodded, absorbing the information. "Well, if it's an order, I'd better go. Give me ten minutes to pack. I'll meet you outside."