Alright, we've got some craziness this chapter. I'm just going to cut right to the chase and tell you guys to enjoy!
Slowly but surely, Clint and Natasha weaved their way down the hall to find their targets. Normally they would take this at a slow pace, peering around corners with their weapons at the ready to shoot. But now, they just wanted to take down the Moreaus. That was their main focus at the moment and anyone that got in their way would suffer.
As they turned another corner, they found themselves in the same hallway that was home to the rooms for customers, as well as Pierre's office. The hall was eerily quiet and calm, and Clint and Natasha wondered if this was a trap. It wouldn't be the first time they'd been tricked and they knew it wouldn't be their last. They may be good, but sometimes you couldn't avoid the inevitable.
"Check all the rooms," Clint said as he forcefully kicked one of the doors in and stomped in with his bow loaded. Natasha complied and forced open the door on the other side of the hall, her guns pointed ahead of her. The room was empty but in completely disarray. Clearly someone left in a hurry and that was what convinced Natasha that they hadn't gotten all of the girls out.
"Clint," Natasha said shakily. "I think they have some of the girls."
Breathlessly, Clint sauntered into the room to see the disaster. He took in his surroundings and then turned to Natasha. "The other room looked like this too," he said. "They may be trying to throw us off."
"But Nat," Clint continued. He stepped in front of Natasha and placed his hands comfortingly on her shoulders. "If they have some of the girls, we'll get them out and get them to safety. For now, we have to find Pierre and Christophe. They're our main priority now."
Natasha nodded solemnly and then turned on her heel to head back out to the dimly lit hallway. Clint followed a couple steps behind her to continue checking the rooms. They followed the hall to the next set of doors, to which they forced down and checked for any inhabitants before moving onto the next ones.
When all of the rooms were clear, the only room that remained was Pierre's office. Both Clint and Natasha knew there wasn't a chance of neither Pierre nor Christophe being in the office. They'd practically be surrendering themselves right then and there. But Clint and Natasha knew it was worth a shot. And since they knew Pierre and Christophe wouldn't be in there, the few moments alone in the office gave them a chance to ransack it for any important materials.
Natasha insisted on busting down the door because she claimed she needed to take her rage out on something. Her boot connected with the white door – leaving a prominent boot print smack dab in the middle – and it flew open to reveal an empty office. Hesitantly, Clint and Natasha strolled into the office and checked the corners and any other obvious hiding places before lowering the weapons to search the room.
They weren't quite sure what they were looking for but working for SHIELD meant that they had to be thorough. They rummaged through desk drawers and filing cabinets, only to find nothing of importance. Clint knew they kept files on the girls because he was the one who filled them out. But at the end of the day, Clint usually turned them into Pierre, and from there, Clint didn't know what he did with them.
"Find anything?" Natasha asked as she rooted through Pierre's desk one more time.
"Nothing," Clint said. "All I have here are bank statements for the hotel's account and some old Playboys."
"Fucking pigs," Natasha spat as she slammed one of the drawers and stood up. She snatched her guns off of the desk. She strolled around the front of the desk but stopped when she heard a strange squeaking sound. She paced around the floor until she heard it again. Standing on top of a plush red rug, she eyed the floor until she crouched down and whipped the rug aside to reveal a small hatch.
"Clint, I think I found the manifesto," Natasha announced.
Clint stopped what he was doing and walked around to the front of the desk. His eyes widened at the sight of the hatch and then crouched down across from Natasha. "It's been right under me this entire time!" he exclaimed. He reached out and pulled the lid to the hatch to reveal the folders to the manifesto of trafficked women working in the hotel and casino.
Gingerly, he pulled out the folder and absentmindedly flipped through it before slamming it shut. He tucked it away beneath his vest before Natasha could protest. "You don't need to see it, Tasha," he said before she could even say a word. With a sigh, he stood up and grabbed his bow. He reloaded an arrow and then waltzed towards the door. "Let's go find these bastards."
Natasha smirked at her partner and then stood up. She checked both of her guns once more and then joined Clint over in the doorway. With a nod, they filed out of the office and headed down the hall towards the door that led out to the lobby of the hotel. They stopped just a couple feet in front of the door before pushing on the metal bar to push it open.
The moment they pushed the door open, an ear-splitting alarm reverberated throughout the hotel. Clint and Natasha froze in the small hallway outside of the door to take in their surroundings. The lobby was surprisingly empty. No patrons and staff were around so the Moreaus must have evacuated them while Clint and Natasha were evacuating the girls and searching the rooms.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Natasha noticed movement from around the entrance of the hotel's casino. Narrowing her eyes to slits, she saw the movement again. The man poked his head out from behind an armchair before swinging his arm above his head to toss a grenade in Clint and Natasha's direction.
Natasha sprang into action as she grabbed her partner's arm and dragged him towards the check in desk. They ducked behind it for cover just in time as the grenade exploded right where they'd been standing before. Bits of carpet and plaster rained down on them, but other than that they were unharmed.
"Mother fucker!" Clint shouted as he fumbled with his bow.
Natasha put a hand over Clint's as he fumbled to reload an arrow. He stopped what he was doing when he noticed Natasha's tiny hand on top of his and raised his head to meet her gaze. "We need to fight fire with fire, Barton," she said as she arched an eyebrow at him.
It took a couple seconds for Clint to process what she meant. When he finally understood, he smirked at his red-headed partner and then reached behind him to retrieve another arrow from his quiver. He loaded it into his bow and then turned back to Natasha. She nodded at Clint as if to tell him to go ahead with the plan.
Subtly, Clint peeked out from behind the check in desk. From what he could tell, several of Moreau's men were stationed around the lobby, hiding behind furniture and pillars. They were scattered throughout the lobby but if Clint hit the right spot, he could target them all at once. He ducked back down behind the counter to load his arrow properly before taking a deep breath and jumping up to fire.
He sent the arrow flying into the middle of a sitting area in the lobby before ducking behind the counter once again to shield his partner's body with his. At the same time, he clicked a button on his bow, causing the arrow to explode. The ground beneath them trembled and the desk shook from behind them. Screams of terror and pain were heard from behind them as the explosion rocked the building.
When the explosion subsided, Clint pulled away from Natasha and the red-head sat up. They glanced above them to find nothing but smoke and dust filtering through the air. Cautiously, both Clint and Natasha peeked over the counter to find the lobby in disarray. Several pieces of furniture were on fire while some of Moreau's men lay dead in the room. However, a few were still alive as they coughed to clear the dust and smoke from their lungs.
"Go, Nat," Clint said as he noticed some of the men that were still standing. Natasha turned to Clint and smirked at him before jumping over the counter to venture into the warzone.
Carefully, Natasha stepped past flaming debris and dead bodies as she scoped out the surviving attackers. Now that Clint and Natasha had retaliated, clearly Moreau's men weren't going to attack them without regrouping. But since they were all split up, it didn't seem like that would be happening anytime soon.
"Nat, there's one at your 2 o'clock," Natasha heard Clint say through their comms. "Behind the paisley love seat."
Natasha's eyes darted to the position Clint had described. She didn't see the man but she didn't doubt Clint's skill. He wasn't called Hawkeye for nothing.
She tip toed towards the love seat, keeping an eye out for any sudden movement. She pulled one of her guns out from her holster as she neared the love seat. She was a couple steps away from the love seat when she heard a small thud from behind her. She turned around to find a grenade positioned right at her feet. She kicked the object away and ducked behind an overturned coffee table just in time for the grenade to explode in the distance.
"What the fuck are we dealing with?" Natasha snapped as she shielded herself from more flying debris.
"Fucking guerilla warfare," Clint snarled through their comms.
"This is bullshit," Natasha growled. As she pulled her arms away from shielding herself, she noticed movement at the other end of the sitting area. She thought it could just be the smoke messing with her vision but there was no mistaking the black combat gear.
Keeping low to the ground, Natasha crawled towards the armchair where the man took shelter. She kept low to the floor until she finally reached the arm chair. She jumped up and knocked the armchair over to lure the man out from behind his shield. The man scampered but he was too slow for Natasha. She grabbed him by the shirt and tossed him on the ground. She gave a swift kick to the man's side, but he grabbed her leg and pulled her to the ground.
Natasha groaned as she landed on her back and pain shot up her back from its epicenter, which just so happened to be at the base of her spine. She knew her injury would come back to bite her in the ass. But she had to power through it. She couldn't let the Moreaus get away with this.
She pulled her legs backwards and then sprung herself up onto her feet. The man had already taken shelter behind another piece of furniture and was far out of sight. Natasha was back at square one.
"Shit!" she heard Clint cuss through their comms. Suddenly, she heard a loud thud from behind her and whipped around to find one of the men lying on the ground with an arrow protruding from his eye socket.
"Well thanks," Natasha said.
"No problem," Clint said. Natasha could almost hear the smirk on his face with his reply. "Another on your left, Tasha. Ten o'clock."
Natasha whipped around to see someone ducking behind an overturned end table, which didn't exactly shield all of his body. She sprinted to the end table and grabbed it from the floor to reveal a man dressed in similar black combat gear. He jumped up – wielding a knife and a grimace – as he swiped at Natasha with the knife. Natasha stepped backwards to dodge the knife before swinging the end table around to hit the man in the side of the head. The man was out cold before he even hit the ground, his knife clattering to the floor a couple feet away from him.
"Where else, Hawk?" Natasha asked breathlessly. The pain was still shooting up and down her spine and it was a little more prominent now, but she had to keep going. She couldn't let Clint know that she was in pain. He would abandon the mission immediately just to get her help. Natasha knew he cared, but sometimes he cared way too much. Right now, the mission was more important than her stupid back problems.
"I think there's one more on your right. Three o'clock," Clint responded.
Natasha turned on her heel to find the first man she'd approached hiding behind the coffee table she'd taken refuge behind when the grenade had been thrown at her. Stealthily, Natasha made her way over to the man taking cover behind the coffee table. When she was directly behind the coffee table, she peered over the edge to find the man's back facing her. With a smirk, Natasha reached forward and grabbed him by the hair. The man yelped as Natasha pulled him into the air and then tossed him like a ragdoll.
"Where are Pierre and Christophe?" Natasha growled as she quickly pulled one of her guns from their holster then aimed it at the man's genitals in one swift move.
"Casse-toi!" the man sputtered. (Fuck off!)
Natasha arched an eyebrow at him before positioning her gun elsewhere and firing one shot into his knee. The man howled in pain as he clutched his knee. He wasn't paying attention as Natasha crouched down and aimed the barrel of her gun at his forehead.
"I'll ask again," Natasha purred. "Where are Pierre and Christophe?" The man swallowed nervously as he stared back at Natasha with wide eyes. "Are they in the casino?" Natasha continued. "I'm being nice here. I'm giving you choices."
"They have the kid," the man responded with a heavy French accent.
Natasha furrowed her brow before pressing the gun further into the man's forehead. "What kid?" Natasha asked through clenched teeth.
"The wife's kid," the man whimpered. "Jacques."
Natasha felt all the blood drain from her body at the mentioning of Jennifer's little boy. The Moreaus were hiding behind their own kin. They were good, though. Of course Natasha and Clint wouldn't attack them if Jacques was involved. But now, there was a third party involved. Natasha and Clint had to get Jacques out safely before they even attacked Pierre and Christophe.
"Where are they?" Natasha growled, pressing the gun further into the man's forehead. She knew with the amount of pressure she was applying, there had to be at least a permanent imprint on the man's forehead by now.
"Dans le casino," he spat back. (In the casino.)
Natasha nodded at the man before pulling her gun away from him. The man barely had time to let out a sigh of relief before Natasha landed a swift left hook to his face, knocking him out cold.
"Clint, they have Jacques with them, Christophe's son," Natasha said into their comms. "They're in the casino."
"Fuck," Clint cussed. "This is messed up. I think we've got all of the guys though. You think they'll be armed or do you think this was it?"
"I think this was it," Natasha sighed. "They're hiding behind Jacques for sure. They know we won't attack if he's there."
"Right," Clint said from Natasha's right, causing her to jump. Clint flinched as he stepped away from his partner to protect himself from any random blows. "Sorry," he apologized. "Think they're just in there waiting for us?"
"Only one way to find out," Natasha said as she took a step in the direction of the casino. Clint watched for a couple seconds as Natasha stepped forward with a slight limp in her step. The last time she limped like that was almost two months ago while she was in recovery mode from her knife wound. Being flipped onto her back had to make it hurt again. Clint desperately wanted to say something but he knew it would only anger Natasha. He would just have to keep an eye on her. Clint slung his bow across his chest before he sped up to keep up with Natasha.
Silently, they made their way into the casino to find the Moreaus. It was eerie to see the casino completely deserted. What was once a carnival for adults was now a desolate wasteland with overturned chairs and scattered decks of cards and playing chips.
Luckily, the Moreaus weren't hiding. Then again, Clint and Natasha didn't expect them to be. Instead, they were stationed in the middle of the casino at a blackjack table. Jacques was seated in a chair with his back facing Clint and Natasha, while Pierre and Christophe were seated on the other side of the table. Literally, Jacques was their shield.
The family of three hadn't noticed Clint and Natasha, and Clint and Natasha figured that was on purpose. Jacques was giggling as he watched his uncle and his father build a house of cards for his entertainment. When the structure decided to cave in upon itself, Pierre and Christophe feigned disappointment while Jacques giggled with delight. By that time, Clint and Natasha had made it to the table and Pierre and Christophe acknowledged their presence.
"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Bouchard!" Pierre announced. "How lovely to see you!"
"Cut the shit, Pierre," Natasha snapped.
"Oh, that's no way to greet someone. Tsk tsk, Julien, what have you been teaching your wife?" Pierre mused.
"Stop playing around," Clint snapped. "You know we're not the Bouchards."
A mischievous grin spread across Pierre's face. "You're right. You're not the Bouchards," Pierre said. "In fact, you're not even married. You're not from Paris. You're not even from Europe." Pierre rose from his chair and strolled around to the front. He leaned up against the blackjack table next to Jacques and crossed his arms over his chest. "You are, in fact, SHIELD agents. Hawkeye and Black Widow, to be exact."
Natasha narrowed her eyes to slits as Clint furrowed his brow in confusion. "So you knew this entire time?" Clint asked.
"Oh no!" Pierre exclaimed. "Actually, I had an inkling. Little Red over there looked familiar but I didn't think it could be her. But when I saw the security camera for out back go dark, I knew it had to be you two."
"What the hell are you playing at?" Natasha snapped. "You let us take the trafficked women to safety. You let us destroy your hotel. And now you're just standing here to talk to us?"
"Oh trust me," Pierre drawled as he uncrossed his arms and waltzed back to the other side of the table to sit down next to Christophe. "There's a purpose for this. And it's to let you know we're walking out of here alive and with Jacques."
"You're not taking him anywhere!" Clint snapped.
"Oh, I'm not?" Christophe chimed in. "You took my wife, so I'm going to take her son."
"Her son? He's your son too, you know," Natasha spat.
"No, you see, he's not," Christophe said. At that moment, Jacques' head snapped up and his eyes widened at Christophe. Christophe hadn't even noticed Jacques staring at him because his gaze was locked on Clint and Natasha. "Do you want to know why Jennifer and I were fighting that day you just so happened to 'drop by?'" Christophe asked with a sly grin on his face.
"Why?" Natasha snarled.
"Well, it came to my attention that Jacques isn't my son," Christophe admitted.
"Quoi!?" the three-year-old cried from his chair. (What!?)
"Quiet!" Christophe spat at the child and Jacques shrank back in his chair. "You see, Jennifer was a naughty girl when we got married. She didn't exactly like me, and to tell you the truth, I didn't exactly like her. So, she snuck out a lot, sometimes to this hotel, to meet men.
"One night, she wandered back to the rooms and met someone. One thing led to another and nine months later, Jacques was born," Christophe explained.
Clint and Natasha stared at the Moreau's in awe before shifting their gaze to the small child in the seat in front of them. This kid was just as much of a victim as Jennifer and the rest of the girls. And now, the worst part of it was that they may not be able to help him.
"So you're just going to let us on our merry way," Pierre said as he rose from his chair. Christophe did the same as well, keeping his eyes trained on Clint and Natasha. "If Jennifer wants to go to your side, then Jacques is staying on ours. An eye for an eye."
Natasha shook her head in disgust. "I hate men," she spat before she pulled out one of her guns, aimed, and pulled the trigger. Pierre and Christophe dove out of the way while Clint stumbled forward and snatched Jacques from his chair. Clint and Natasha retreated a couple feet back before knocking over one of the blackjack tables for shelter. They took refuge behind the table as they caught their breaths.
"The next time you do that, tell me first so I can get the damn kid to safety," Clint said. Natasha shrugged her shoulders, as if she didn't care about the decision that she made. Without saying another word to Natasha, Clint switched his comm's frequency to the rescue team to inform them that they had one more person that needed extraction.
While Clint debated with the rescue team on an extraction point for Jacques, Natasha kept her eye on Christophe and Pierre. They were currently taking refuge behind an overturned blackjack table and now Natasha was just waiting for their next move.
"We're going to drop off Jacques out front in the courtyard," Clint said. "Let's just hope if they make a move, it ends up that way."
"Yeah, well, we'll see," Natasha growled as she saw Christophe's foot twitch from behind the overturned blackjack table.
They spent several minutes like that, both parties ducked behind their respective shelters, waiting for the other to make a move. Natasha's gun was loaded and her finger was on the trigger in case either of the Moreau's made a move. But neither one of the Moreau brothers made a move. Instead, an attack from Clint and Natasha's exposed side was what happened. After several minutes of waiting for a move, a grenade fell right at Clint's feet. The archer kicked it away before he dove out of the way for additional cover. Natasha grabbed Jacques and dove in a different direction just in time for the grenade to go off.
Jacques let out a shriek as the grenade exploded and rocked the building. Natasha shielded the child with her body as she waited for the explosion to finish. When all was calm and quiet, she lifted her head and squinted through the dust and debris to see movement.
Her eyes widened as she noticed Pierre and Christophe making a run for it.
Uh oh, Christophe and Pierre are making a run for it! It isn't over yet! Stay tuned!
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