A/N: Again, thank you to everyone who has read, or reviewed! Hope you enjoy this chapter as we see just what happened in Budapest...
Warnings: Strong language, some violence.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers.
7.
"No, let me guess," Tony interrupted. "'Just like Budapest.'"
The spies exchanged glances, matching smiles on their faces.
"Nah," Barton said. "Budapest went a little differently."
Budapest
Clint was not impressed with this job, but he'd been offered a lot of money, nearly double his last job, and it wasn't as if the mark was high profile and would be surrounded by security. Basically, this job would be a slam dunk.
What bothered him was that the job was up-close. The mark was secluded, never left his house, and always kept his windows shuttered. That meant that Clint had to enter the house and get his hands dirty. He always worked better from a distance.
Getting into the house was easy. The security system was pathetic and took him five seconds to disarm. Then, he silently crept through the halls, listening closely, bow at the ready. He checked every room but found no sign of the mark. He could hear nothing; maybe he'd gone to sleep. The last room he had to check was the master bedroom.
He threw open the door and raised his bow – and froze. The room was empty. For several seconds he remained there, thoughts and scenarios racing through his mind.
"You again," a familiar voice came from the doorway.
Hawkeye spun around, leveling his bow at the newcomer, who had her own guns pointed straight between his eyes. Her green eyes glinted fiercely in the dim room and her curvy figure was clad in a black jumpsuit.
"Where's Burgeon?" he demanded.
One of her eyes twitched, and he saw a brief flash of confusion. "I was going to ask you the same thing."
Clint's heart stopped for a moment as the two assassins eyed one another. "We've been set up," he said.
The Black Widow had a second to digest the information before the window behind Clint shattered as it was pounded by gunfire. The pair dropped to the ground and rolled to rest against the wall, glass crunching beneath their feet.
"What the hell?" she hissed. More glass rained on their heads. She glared at him. "Friends of yours?"
He narrowed his eyes at her. "How about your friends?" he asked.
She growled and jumped up, firing off two quick shots through the window before sliding back down beside him. There was some yelling coming from the front of the house and the sound of the front door being smashed down.
"We need to head to the back," he shouted. Without looking to see if she would follow, he headed out of the room, head ducked against the constant shower of bullets.
When he stepped out of the room, he turned and started down the hallway. Suddenly, two men appeared from around the corner, but an arrow lodged in one's throat and before he was even finished firing, the other was thrown back with a bullet between the eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the Black Widow beside him, guns held out at the ready.
The pair made their way out the back, slowing only when they encountered more men. By the time they reached the backyard, all the men who'd come in after them were dead. Clint sighed and lowered his bow. "Well, now wasn't that one hell of a party. Do –" he was cut off as the screech of tires met their ears. The assassins shared a meaningful look.
Without a word, the Black Widow took off, scaling the fence with practiced ease. Clint slipped his bow over his shoulder and followed her down the street to a parked car. She had already opened the door and was fiddling with the steering column, hotwiring it. Clint hopped into the passenger seat without hesitation.
The engine roared to life and the Black Widow shot him an annoyed look.
The cars were getting closer, and Clint yelled, "Let's go, woman!"
She ground her teeth, but stomped on the accelerator. "You are so lucky I'm feeling generous today," she grumbled.
Clint grinned.
The back window shattered as the men in the car caught up, and both instinctively ducked. The Black Widow yanked on the wheel, and their tires screeched as they turned sharply onto another street. The car behind them followed.
Clint pulled out his backup gun and leaned out the window, firing off a few shots, but both cars swerved and his shots went wild. He looked back to his driver. Her eyes were set and every muscle in her body was tense.
Their pursuers fired off a few more shots, and Clint ducked back inside. "Can you keep her steady?" he asked the Widow. She nodded once. Clint took a deep breath and hung nearly half his torso outside the window, took careful aim, and fired twice. The front tires popped and the car spun out of control, slamming into the guardrail.
The Black Widow slammed on the brakes and expertly brought the car around, stopping it a few feet from the smashed car. They both got out and approached the smoking wreck.
Clint scowled as he nudged one of the dead men over. He recognized him as the lackey of the man who hired him for the hit. "That shit," he swore. "I'll put a fucking arrow through his eye for this. Now," he said, turning to his impromptu accomplice. "I don't know what your angle in this is, but –" he stopped when he realized he was talking to thin air. He let out a breath. "Yeah, okay. You're welcome." Then he beat it out of there as the sound of sirens made their way closer.
