Chapter 10 Betrayal

Continue part 2-

Updated guys… See, reviewed and new chapter updated…okay?

See you soon….*running away and hide*

.

.

.

.

Clint bolted from his seat and breathed heavily. The image of Natasha with a blade on her neck imprinted in his mind. She's alive. His muddled mind supplied but his inner voice countered that that was yesterday.

Clint couldn't contain his anger and frustration. He picked the chair and threw it across the room. The chair smacked the wall and left an impressive indent. The noise had James and Cross rushed into the room, believing that the occupants of the room might need their help. Coulson quickly raised his hands to them to not move any further. Agent Barton had his back on them and they saw that he was breathing heavily. They saw the smashed chair. Both of them shared a look shared between them.

'Close the door behind you, Cross.' Coulson instructed softly as not to startle Clint. Cross slowly did as instructed and stood near James.

'Clint.' Coulson called softly. His voice was laden with concern and worried. 'Clint. Look at me.' Clint slowly turned around to face Coulson. 'Phil, I wasn't there to help her. If they hurt her….and I wasn't there to help her. I promised her that I won't leave her. Why didn't they take me too, Phil?' Clint was like a lost child. His eyes were bright and the steel cold grey blue many was accustomed to was replaced with a shiny light blue that were filled with sadness and regret.

'Clint. Listen to me. The numbers. Do they mean anything to you?' Coulson pried slowly.

'What?' Clint confused expression showed his inner struggle to stay focus.

'B728-H437. The number they had on the newspaper. Do they mean anything to you?'

Fury rose from his chair and grabbed the phone.

'Get me Sitwell.' He paused and trained his one eyed to Cross and James. The stare caused the two agents fidgeting.

'Sitwell. I want you to trace this number Bravo 7 – 2 – 8 dash Hotel 4 – 3 – 7. Inform me asap.' Fury barked before he slammed his phone down.

'Make yourself useful. Do you recognize the number?' Fury had reverted his attention to Cross and James startling them. Both shook their heads.

Clint massaged his forehead. The headache was now throbbing in intensity. He couldn't think straight. He vaguely heard Coulson asking him questions. Clint lifted his head up. He remembered that he wanted to ask Coulson a question. He walked up to Coulson and stopped.

'What do you mean that James will be assisting me in rescuing Natasha?' The question caught Coulson by surprise.

'What?' It was Coulson turn to blink. Coulson forehead crinkled in confusion.

'You said that I need James to help me find Natasha?' Clint pushed ahead. 'Why?'

Coulson blinked twice and then understanding dawn on him. He exhaled slowly.

'Coulson?'

'I want him to take you to the location where Bar… the man was last seen. Perhaps you could find clue to Natasha where about.' Coulson explained.

'Err…I am?' James's voice can be heard at a distance. One look from the Director had him quickly answered, 'I am, Agent Barton.'

'Clint, do you recognize the number?' Again Coulson brought his attention to the original question he posed.

'I'm not sure, Phil. The digits were familiar but it could be anything.' Clint shook his head and cast his glance downwards.

'What do you mean the digits were familiar? Clint, focus. For Natasha. We need to find her soon.'

'Do you think I didn't know that. Only thing in my mind is finding her, Phil!' Clint snapped at Coulson and started to turn away. 'I need space to think. Don't follow me, Phil.' Clint warned him when he saw Coulson about to grab hold his arm.

'Clint! Wait! We are not done here. We need to go thru the video and find clues to her whereabouts.' Coulson called out to Clint.

'I can't think here Coulson. Leave me be. I'll come back when I have things sorted out.' Clint moved away and reached for the door knob. James and Cross quickly got out of his way, remembering his warning of interfering him.

'Clint! Stop! We have to think this together. We might not have enough time. We need to pool our resources together.' Coulson continued with his plea.

'Shit! What do you think Coulson. That I abandoned her. That all these are my fault. Don't you think I don't question myself why in the hell did they took her and left me there. These are so cluster fuck and I feel suffocated just thinking about it. And then… the.. the video. You saw how she was Coulson. I can't think straight. I need to get away…by myself. Please…just please, Coulson. Do Not Follow Me.'

With that Clint pulled the door opened and was assaulted with a fluttering of papers fell down all around him. He instinctively pulled out his knife at the new threat and embedded a flying folder with his knife on the wall. And then he heard the terrifying shriek and pulled his dagger in response. Fortunately he managed to pull himself out of his chaotic mind and managed to avoid the recruit's head. His dagger stopped at midswing in front her and next thing he knew she collapsed at his feet.

He collected himself and glared at the group and left the petrified recruits.

.

.

.

Clint couldn't help but chuckled at the scenario. He pitied the girl who had fainted at his feet and made a mental note to check with the infirmary on her condition. He inhaled and looked over at the expanse of the space in front him. He always loved open space. He remembered when he brought Natasha up here to enjoy sunrise. She mocked him of being romantic. He thought romantic was for those who enjoyed sunset and she laughed at his confused look. When they went for the mission in Paris, they had to pose as newlywed and SHIELD had put them in a posh hotel of La Tremoille. The room had a beautiful view of the Arc de Triomphe. Clint closed his eyes at the memory.

His head was throbbing with the assault of trying to remember. It made him dizzy and nauseous. He grabbed hold of the railing when vertigo struck him. He breathed deeply thru his nose and exhaled thru his mouth. He kept repeating the breathing until the vertigo subsided. Ever since the accident he …..then it hit him. Somebody was saying to him to remember something before he lost consciousness. The image was blurred but he was sure he had heard him said it. He quickly walked down the stairs and headed straight to Fury's office. He was about to turn the corner when his phone rang and answered without looking.

'Barton.' Clint answered harshly and continued walking.

'Hello, Clinton.'

Clint knew that voice.

The voice stopped him cold. Clint felt the icy tendrils of cold travelled down his spine and wrapped around his heart. His breath stuttered and his vision swam. The pounding of his head intensify that he had to put out his hand on the wall to stop him from stumbling.

'Aren't you gonna say hi to me, Clinton? Momma taught us better than that, dear brother. Have you forgotten?' The voice taunted him cruelly. Clint shut his eyes tightly.

'Barney.' He whispered hoarsely into the phone. He leaned on the wall and hung his head down.

'Well…at least you still remember me. It has been awhile isn't it lil' brother.' The cold feeling turned to flaming hot lave that flowed in his vein, burning him from inside.

'How can you still be alive? I saw you …dead… You are dead…this is not you. It can't be you.' Clint couldn't find in him to believe that he was talking to his dead brother. He started to feel warm and sweat beginning to form on his forehead travelling down to his eyes.

'Are you sure, Clinton?'

'Stop calling me that.' Clint hissed and pulled himself off the wall. His vision tilted and he brought his finger to his temple. The headache was pounding and he wiped the sweat that had entered his eyes. Squinting hard Clint tried to steady his breathing.

'Oh dear…Are you ok, Clinton. Oh..I'm sorry, Clint. How is your headache? Shouldn't you be lying down, dear brother?' Barney sneered at the statement snapped Clint's attention. He furrowed his forehead.

'How do you know about my headache?'

'Well, let's just say that we've left something for you to think about. I wonder, Clint, what would you do if we do ….this to you?'

Right at that instance, a blinding light flashed behind his eyes. Hot blinding pain travelled from his eyes to his chest and down his body. It felt like somebody had opened up a gate of volcanic lava into Clint's vein. Clint gasped painfully and dropped to his knees gasping. The phone dropped from his hand and he clutched his head. He couldn't find his voice to scream. The pain was so intense that Clint couldn't breathe. His body was shaking.

Then the blinding light was gone just as fast as it hit him but the pain lingered, humming as to remind him that it was still present and would rekindled at any time. Clint was on all four gasping on the floor and sweat had started to pour down his face and neck. He blinked few times trying to catch his breath and to let his heartbeat return to normal. He could hear Barney's laughter from the phone that was abandoned on the floor near his knee.

He grabbed at the phone and hissed menacingly. 'What the fucking hell did you do to me?' Clint was breathing hard through his nostril. He sat back and leaned heavily on the wall. His throat was parched. He gulped dryly.

'Let's just say we need to make sure that you will listen to us unconditionally. No telling your bosses or your red haired girlfriend will suffer and so will you.' Clint could hear the hatred that came from Barney's voice. He knew there was nothing he could do but to follow.

'What do you want?' Regretfully, Clint knew he has no choice. They can do whatever they want to him but he couldn't let them hurt Natasha. He needed to know what they have done to him and where they have been keeping Natasha.

'Oh, Clint,' Barney's voice interrupted his forlorn musing and Clint lifted his head at it, 'I think you might want to stand up now. Somebody is coming and it would be ashamed to find the mighty Hawkeye on the floor shaking, wouldn't it?' Clint was shocked. He stared at the phone for a moment. How did he know that he was sitting on the floor? Clint was about to shout into the phone when he heard the footsteps. He quickly stood up using the wall as leverage and leaned casually with the phone on his ears. A suit walked up the corridor and was surprised to see him there. He gave a timid smile and quickly walked by without giving Clint a second glance.

'How did you know that? How ..' Clint stammered into the phone and his eyes glanced the surrounding looking for a spying device. Barney chuckled and casually told him. 'Oh please, no need to look around Clint. You won't find anything on the wall or the ceiling. We see everything you see and we hear everything you hear. Don't waste time looking for any hidden device or what not.'

Then it hit him. 'You insert a surveillance device in me? When did you….the crash. When you sedated me.' Clint ran his hand down his neck and behind his ears. He didn't feel anything. He fingered his wound near his forehead that was covered with small band aid.

'As I said Clint. Don't waste your time coz you will be running out of it soon.' That stopped Clint dead. 'What do you mean?' His stance wavered.

'Why don't we meet, dear brother. I have texted you an address. Be there in 2 hours. Then you and your girlfriend can have a second date or maybe finished off your first date. It was your first date that we interrupted, right.….or not. Oh, before I forgot, please return the item you took in Paris and bring it with you. You know what I referred to. Don't be late, Clinton.' With that the line was cut off.

Clint was rooted at where he stood. He gaped at the phone and his mind was running amok trying to decipher Barney's last message. The beeping of his phone signaling a text received. He looked at the message. There was no sender number. He reread the address and sighed. It will take him about half an hour to reach it, but he need to retrieve whatever item Barney had mentioned. He needed to remember Paris. What item did he took in Paris?

Natasha was poisoned in the Paris mission and he was nearly killed. They managed to kill the target but the mission did not include any logistic to be retrieved. He tried to think and closed his eyes. The headache returned with a vengeance and he winched at the intensity of it. The pain spiked every minutes and he had started to feel nauseous. He bit his lips until he could taste a coppery tang in his mouth.

The ring.

Suddenly he remembered that he took a ring from the target for SHIELD doctor to identify the poison. The ring was kept secured in SHIELD's vault. Clint knew he could gain entrance inside the vault with no problems but any entrance to the vault will be notified to Fury. He needed to do this stealthy.

Clint eyed the door along the corridor that lead to Fury's office. Coulson was in there. He needed badly to talk to Coulson but he couldn't. He gave the door one last look and turned his heels towards his room. He needed to think a plan. He must do this alone or Natasha will die. He couldn't let that happen.

I'm sorry, Coulson.

Clint knew if he survived this, SHIELD would brand him a rogue and a kill order might be put out for him.

Betrayed. Clint knew Coulson would feel that he had betrayed his trust. There was nothing Clint could do now except to follow Barney's instruction and he needed to steal from SHIELD.

He had to steal from SHIELD, practically his home and betrayed all that had put trust in him.

Clint hung his head low and continued walking.

He never felt so alone.

.

.

.

.

.

.

*still hiding…* with my laptop typing away my next chapter…