Five Days Prior – Compound Beta
It was going to be a long night.
They had flown the quinjet over Boston and continued south. The little aircraft was silent, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Clint was flying again, even though he had been teaching Rogers how to fly the craft. Natasha sat in the co-pilots chair, with Steve in the row of seats behind. Bruce was there too, his attention focused on the tablet on his lap; it looked like he was doing chemical equations. Tony had stayed behind at the lab, working with JARVIS to crack more of the e-mails and files they had found, while Bruce had wanted to come and see the situation for himself. Hopefully they wouldn't need the other guy.
Clint glanced at the instruments in front of him; they were almost on top of the co-ordinates Tony had given them. Looking out the window, he could see nothing but fields and patches of trees. There wasn't as much as a barn in sight. Natasha was obviously thinking the same thing.
"I don't see anything." She was double checking the readings as Steve came up behind her to look through the screen.
"Tony and I double-checked. It should be here somewhere," came Bruce's voice from the back. Clint continued to scan the landscape. There. A sliver of concrete. It was obvious the others hadn't seen it when they glanced at him as he began his descent. That little slice of concrete was the only thing visible up until the moment they landed. Covered in dirt and surrounded by bushes, a little hatch in the ground, little more than the width of Steve's shoulders. A tight fit.
"Guess they call you Hawkeye for a reason," muttered Steve as he moved to pick up his shield. Clint smirked at Natasha, who just rolled her eyes.
Steve was already standing over the hatch, looking for a way in. There were signs of a handle, but it had been broken off. There was nothing for him to get a grip on. Steve glanced up at the others and shrugged, then swung his shield in an arc above his head and smashed it down into the middle of the hatch. It buckled. Steve kept it up until the sheet of metal crumpled completely and dropped down a long shaft to land several seconds later in a muffled crash.
"Sounds deep." Even as she spoke, Natasha was moving back to the jet to pick up some rappelling gear. Jamming the anchor into the ground at her feet, she fed rope down into the hole until she felt some resistance. "Looks like it's about twenty metres down." Without further conversation, she clipped the rope anchor to her belt and jumped into the opening. Less than a minute later they heard her "all clear."
One by one, the rest of them rappelled down the line, landing with a slight dust cloud at the bottom of the shaft, where the space abruptly expanded into a cavernous room. Natasha was already working at the only door, a large metal contraption like something you'd find on a submarine. She was working at a little code pad at the side, its cover removed and her fingers deftly sorting through the little wires within. The door clicked open with a hiss. The air that wafted out was warm and stale.
They immediately entered a corridor, and with a motion of his head, Steve took Bruce down one way, while the two assassins went the other way. It was similar to the first compound they had entered, except everything here was at least ten years out of date. They entered offices with corded telephones and giant grey blocks we had once called computers, everything covered in a thick layer of dust. There was no need to say what they were both thinking; this place had been long abandoned.
They reached another branch in the corridor and went their separate ways. As Clint moved deeper into the building he began to notice a change in the air; it smelt cleaner, fresher. The dull yellow bulbs that had lit his way previously were replaced by bright fluorescent lights; the walls had a fresh coat of paint. Clint brought his hand up to his ear, meaning to inform Natasha and Steve that this part of the building had seen recent use, when he heard a light thud behind him.
Clint turned just in time to throw himself to the side as a mountain of a man brought a fire extinguisher down where his head had been. Rolling backwards to regain his feet and some distance, the archer took everything in instantly. The guy must have been at least six and a half feet in height, as broad as he was tall. He reeked of fear sweat, and his eyes rolled in his head. The man grit his teeth as he panted, caught sight of Clint again, and lunged. He was fast for his mass, and the confines of the corridor made dodging difficult. Clint jumped back, and the man lost his balance as his lunge collided with air; Clint kneed him in the stomach, then drove his elbows into the middle of the man's back. He collapsed in a heap, whole body shuddering as he struggled for air. Crouching beside the man, Clint turned his head and watched with horror as the man's eyes glassed over and white spume dribbled from the corner of his mouth. The body continued to shudder.
Rising, Clint's mind raced. His counter attack should not have had that affect. He brought his hand up to his ear and pressed the comm.
"Widow, Captain." He received two affirmatives. "I'm in a part of the building that looks new. Encountered a guy that tried to bludgeon me. Something weird happened when I fought back, and the man seemed like he was out of it. Anything your en…?" The air was forced out of his lungs and he was sent stumbling over the corpse as something hard broke across his shoulders. He landed with his hand outstretched and used it to flip into a position that faced his attacker. A skinny man with his face frozen in a rictus of rage, a metal pipe in his hands. Clint removed a small knife from his boot and threw it, piercing the man's left eye. Another corpse.
Clint took a deep breath. He hadn't heard either man until they were upon him; not a scuffed step, not the rough pants of breath. Where did they come from? And why couldn't he hear their approach?
The sound of approaching footsteps, light and fast, reached his ears before he saw Natasha come around the corner. She paused beside him and raised a questioning eyebrow at the bodies. She had her gun in one hand, and a broken vial in the other. Drops of clear liquid rested on the sides of glass. Clint raised his own eyebrow at it, and their stared at each other in a challenge. Natasha eventually rolled her eyes, prioritising the mission.
"Found it in a sink in the women's bathroom. I thought we might test it." She waved her arm in a move that encompassed the corridor. "What happened?"
"Isn't it obvious? They attacked me. I can't figure out where they came from, though. One came from the direction you went, the other from further down this corridor. I didn't hear them at all." Natasha looked him over at that, but he just shook his head in puzzlement. "I could hear every breath they took after I noticed them, but not before. The guy there," he pointed to the larger of the two corpses. "He seemed to start choking on something and just died once I got him on the ground."
Natasha bent beside the two corpses. The smell of unwashed bodies pervaded the air, and their clothes looked long lived-in. Countless blood vessels had burst under their skin, giving them a strange mottled appearance. A quick pat-down of their bodies revealed nothing further. The two assassins continued their search. The next door opened into a storage room which appeared to have been inhabited by some kind of animal. The smell was vile, with blood and urine stains on the floor. It was only when they noticed a torch and back pack on the ground that they realised it was the den of a human; possibly one of those Clint had killed. The back pack was empty.
"Tash, feel like you're in a horror video game yet?" Natasha glanced over at him before moving on. She had never played a video game before, though she had taken to sitting in the room with him as he played feigning attention on her laptop. He never said it, but he had seen her start in her seat when he played F.E.A.R. Not that she would ever admit it; she said games were for children. So many things were for children. Especially love.
Clint felt his eyes begin to sting suddenly; a low hiss came from the corner of the room, as of gas leaking. He caught Natasha's eye before the world went sideways.
AN: I'm sorry this took so long to get written, and that it's so short. Life has been hectic. The pace so far has been slow, but it will start picking up now. Thank you for reading, and for reviewing/watching.