PART 3
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, they parted ways. Clint and Bree still kept a watchful eye on each other, until Bree disappeared. Clint was searching for her, but it was difficult with this many people.
Bree walked down the large, ornate, deserted hallway. She looks around, and finally finds the room she was looking for. She glances around before slipped on a glove and took a bobby pin out of her hair. She unlocks the door and opens it, slipping inside. She put the pin back in her hair and walked inside, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Clint finally realized she wasn't in the room and walked out. There were so many possibilities as rooms she could be in. He turns, walking to the west wing, hoping she was somewhere in there.
She walks over to a large computer, typing in a password carefully and gaining access. Her back was to the door so she glances back before starting her work. She types on the keyboard and pulls up a few files that her boss needed. She pulls out a large diamond barrette and pulls off the top, exposing it as a USB drive. She carefully inserts it into the side of the computer. A small wirring began as the files started to download, an estimate of 3 minutes. She sighs, wishing it would be faster. She taps her foot impatiently silently on the hardwood floor.
Clint checked a few rooms till he found the one. There were a few scratches on the lock, meaning it had been broken into. He glances around before slipping out his gun. He grips the door knob lightly, and opens the door.
Bree whirls around, reaching under her dress and pulling out her P-22, pointing it at the intruder. Before her or Clint knew it, they were each holding each other at gunpoint.
"So you know who I am?" Bree says, gripping the gun tightly.
He nods, his gun also raised. He took a step inside. "Yes."
She cocks the gun, "Don't come any closer." She says firmly.
"Hey, I just want to shut the door for privacy." He says casually, shutting the door slowly.
"So you also know who I am?" Clint says as the door clicks shut.
She nods, "Yes, Agent Barton."
"Then can we talk about this like civilized people?" he says cautiously. He lowered his gun slightly, as a sign of good faith.
Bree hesitated, but she slowly lowered the gun, as did Clint.
"I'm supposed to kill you." He starts.
"I'm aware of that."
"But, if you stop all this now, and you come quietly, I'll arrange something less.. harsh for your punishment."
Bree tilts her head to the side, her eyes narrowing. "And if I don't?"
"Then you leave me no choice." He says.
Bree noticed he was actually telling the truth. He didn't want to kill her, but she knew if she didn't get these files to her boss, he would hunt her down and kill her. The weight of both sides was killing her.
She takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry, Agent Barton, but I came here with a job I intend to finish."
She raised the gun and fired a shot, causing Clint to drop to his knees. He grabs his gun, pointing it at her and pulled the trigger. She narrowly dodges it and it lodged itself into the bookcase beside her. She yanks out the drive and put back on the top, dropping it down her dress.
She shot at Clint again, and he rolls to the side, sitting against the oak desk. She ran towards the door and he fired a shot. It hit right in the spot, on the doorknob, sealing her in. She yanks at it but it was no use. She glares back at him, raising the gun and shot. It was off, lodging into the desk or floor, even the walls.
After several shots, they ran out of ammo. Clint was still positioned behind the desk, and Bree was behind a fall table on its side.
They both stood up simultaneously, they looked at each other. Clint had taken off his jacket during the fight, and his pristine white dress shirt now had gun powder on it lightly, and it had a few rips in the arms. Bree was slightly different. Her hair was slightly disheveled, but still perfect to Clint. She had a few scratches on her arm and small blotches of gunpowder on her fingers.
They just stood, looking at eachother from across the room for a few minutes. The room was mostly destroyed, nothing really intact.
"How about we talk about this like civilized people?" Bree says, tossing her empty gun to the side.
Clint's jaw tightened, but he nodded, "Agreed." He sets his gun to the side.
Bree smiles, "Then come, we'll speak in my room."