Chapter 4

The sound of bullets ricocheting off the plane rang across the tarmac. The subsequent shrill of sirens was deafening. Black SUVS swerved around baggage carts closing in on their red-headed prey. Operatives were dodging the hail of bullets that filled the air in a crackling chorus.

Natasha was on the floor of the plane before she could begin to comprehend the sudden combat. An extremely disoriented Clint Barton was sprawled out beneath her and had an arm wrapped around her torso. She disentangled herself from Barton's arms and turned to look at the agent. A million thoughts flew through her mind gathering like snowflakes into an avalanche of realisation.

'He saved your life.'

Her head snapped around at the sound of men shouting on the tarmac. A set of orders was relayed through a megaphone, "All agents withdraw, I repeat, all agents with-." A bout of static rang around the surroundings as another round of gunshots silenced the call. A screech of tyres signalled the retreat of one of the combatants. Without warning a bullet pierced the side of the plane and flew past Natasha's head. Another agents orders came through a different megaphone; this time the voice had a strong English accent and was distorted by a sharp crackling.

"Natasha Romanoff, exit the plane with your hands above your head." A few seconds of heavy silence was broken by a threat, "If you do not comply with our demands we will be forced to take action… You have three minutes."

By this time Clint had had regained most of his consciousness and was attempting to rise to his feet. "I don't know who that is; all I know is that they do not belong to SHIELD."

A bolt of panic struck Natasha's body. Slowly losing her composure, she began to run her hands nervously through her hair and worrying her bottom lip. Clint watched as she contemplated her options. He was bewildered by her sudden change in character. Suddenly, she grabbed for her own confiscated gun from beside him and chose her target as the centre of his forehead.

Clint stared wide-eyed at the weapon. Before he could protest, Natasha silenced him with two words.

"Help me."

His retort came quickly, "Lower the gun and I'll think about it."

Grudgingly she returned the weapon to her holster and kept a firm gaze on Barton as he went to retrieve his backpack. She called down the aisle, "What are you doing?"

"Helping you!" His growing wit earned him a sharp glare from the red-head.

As Clint continued to rummage through his bag, she tried to urge him to go faster, "We only have three minutes."

His search came to a sudden halt as his body stiffened and his hand clasped around the elusive object. "No." He stood up and turned to face Natasha. The hand that encompassed the small item rose pointedly towards her, "You have three minutes. I have all the time in the world."

To illustrate his point he tossed the object into his other hand and back again. Romanoff recognised it as a non-lethal grenade often issued to agents to be used when they needed to make a hasty getaway. They made an excellent distraction and she reluctantly applauded the agent's quick thinking in her mind.

She forcibly shook the thought from her head. Her chances of aid were rapidly disintegrating but she had one last lifeline, "You can think that all you want but, when those agents out there find out a SHIELD agent caught up with me before they did… even I don't know what will happen."

Clint considered her for a moment; the air inside the cabin seemed increasingly thick. He walked towards her and took his place next to the open door.

"We will only have around 10 seconds, 15 at the most. The terminal is our best bet for cover." He refused to look at Natasha as he delivered the plan, determinedly declining the overwhelming sense of disloyalty from clouding his mind. The crime of aiding a fugitive didn't hold up well in a SHIELD investigation.

In his peripheral vision he saw Natasha's head nod in agreement and that was all he needed. "Never used a non-lethal grenade before but I guess there's a first time for everything." His smirk was met by a less than dissatisfied expression from the other agent as he took one final look before lobbing the grenade out the door.

Several gentle clinks could be heard as the explosive traversed the tarmac. As it came to a rest, Clint grabbed Natasha's wrist and pulled them both from the plane. From the topmost step they saw the world plunge into chaos. The grenade exploded with a huge amount of force despite its non-lethal design. A faint ringing filled Natasha's ears and she lost herself in the suddenness of the noise. She allowed Clint to drag her pliant form down the flight of stairs. The yelling from the menacing line of black SUV's that crowded the tarmac caused her to come back to reality.

Before she could turn towards the shouts, Clint tugged on her arm and silently urged her to keep moving. The clang of a bullet hitting a baggage cart disturbed Clint's desperate expression. He frantically pointed towards the terminal, released Natasha's arm and began to sprint towards their temporary safety. Her reflexes finally caught up with her as she decided to follow Clint, another bullet ricocheting off a second cart acted as aggressive encouragement.

By the time the two had reached the terminal, Natasha had become Clint's shadow: she went where he went, dived when he dived and followed him until they had nowhere else to go but inside. The journey from the plane had taken less than 30 seconds but it felt like they had been running for hours. Clint fell against the door as pure exhaustion overtook him and both agents stumbled into the terminal. The anticipated noise of panic-stricken people did not meet them; they were greeted by something else that was even more unnerving. Silence.