He cursed lightly, still aware that he was in the Director's office, and said, "Fine. Ok. When?"
"Briefing is tomorrow morning, plane leaves at 1600. You have a timetable you need to keep. One week. That's it."
"Yes, sir."
He sat impatiently at the table, early for once, and waited for Romanoff and Director Fury. Coulson had been there when he arrived but they didn't speak.
Clint wished he could get up and move or do something to work off his nervous energy but there was no reason to get Coulson any more worked up than he already was. The silence was strained and Phil had that pinched look between his eyes, a hint that he was as worried as Clint.
It made Clint even more nervous but he clamped down on his impulses and sat still, calling on every trick he was taught to keep his body still and his mind calm.
The door opened a moment later to reveal Natasha and she looked at the table awkwardly. He was seated across from Coulson and the table wasn't overly large.
Surprisingly, she chose the seat next to him and gave a small nod to Coulson. She didn't turn to look at him. He took the moment to stare at her hair. Where before it was fiery red and hung around her shoulders in curls it was now blond and straight. It touched down just past her chin and it looked so good that if he didn't know better he would swear it was her natural color.
Director Fury stormed in a moment later and all attention was immediately shifted to him.
"Morning all," he started. "This meeting is eyes-only. There will be no official record of this mission and if you fail to produce the desired result by the end of your deadline, you will be marked as rogue agents."
Clint knew that the folder he'd been given to memorize last night had long since been destroyed. He'd had one other mission like this before and he wasn't looking forward to jumping into another, let alone with a wild card like Romanoff.
Fury would never be so clichéd as to actually ask whether they accepted the mission. Their silence was answer enough.
"Coulson will run things from here. If you fail or are compromised, he will deny all knowledge of your mission and assist in hunting you down. He will be your only point of contact," the Director turned to level his gaze on Natasha.
"This mission is a direct result of the intelligence you collected from the Agency. We found a pattern in shipping routes across Europe and the Middle East. It's only one group but they control most of the region and they're moving to expand their reach."
Phil stood and continued where Fury had left off, "Agent Romanoff will infiltrate under the guise of an interested buyer. Your cover is -was- a real person and you'll be filling her spot since she's no longer in a position to be able to attend the meet. This is their first contact in person and we're confident that they have had limited communication before this so there shouldn't be anything to compromise you."
Fury took over again, "Agent Barton will provide cover and perform recon. We need as much information as you can get, but your primary objective is to take out the top dogs and cripple the organization. We don't have names and we don't have faces. You'll have to do that on the move. It is imperative that the two of you coordinate in the field and identify the targets. You're on the clock on this one. If they survive the week they're more likely to acquire weapons that no one wants them to have and things will get very messy very fast."
Fury looked at both of them, his eye glaring seriously, "Barton will be piloting. Get what you need and meet at the hanger. Take off is no later than 1600."
They both nodded and were dismissed with a wave from Fury. Clint knew Coulson would meet them at the plane.
He went right to his room to retrieve his weapons and grab two go-bags and then turned right back to go to the jet.
Clint wasn't thrilled about the assignment, especially with how he'd left his last meeting with Romanoff. There wouldn't be any SHIELD support on the ground and that put him even more on-edge.
He'd pilot their plane to help establish her role as a wealthy weapons dealer. It gave him some time to mill around the airport, secure their hanger after they landed, and prepare the plane in case they needed a quick takeoff.
She'd go her own way, making a point to be see at several high-end boutiques in the area, before dropping completely off the map.
He'd stay out of sight until she left and move to the meeting point where he'd scope everything out and relay vital information to Natasha over their comms. He would spend most of the rest of his time in a nest of his choosing, carefully monitoring the area and being constantly on alert in case he was needed.
Ideally he would remain as support and be last-case backup. Ideally.
With this much money involved, things were bound to get messy.
Coulson was waiting for him but Clint walked past him without a word, knowing that Phil would follow him onto the jet.
He worked in silence, stowing his gear and then moving through the routine of checking everything from the top down.
"It's too soon, Phil," he said after several minutes.
"Probably."
"But you agree with Fury."
"Very rarely are we every truly prepared for anything in our line of work," Coulson shrugged. "If not now, when?"
"You'll keep an ear out?" he asked instead, understanding what Coulson was really saying.
"Both of them. What else can I do?"
Clint didn't have an answer for that, and instead left the jet to do his exterior inspections. Coulson remained inside and as he was checking the wheels and landing gear he saw Natasha walk up out of the corner of his eye.
She didn't say anything and climbed onboard. Clint went through the rest of his checks before he reentered as well.
He skirted around Natasha and Coulson, who looked to be deep in whatever discussion they were having, and moved to the cockpit for his final checks.
Satisfied, he turned back and found them both watching him. "All good, sir."
"Good," Coulson took out two comms. and handed each of them one. "They're already open on the channel. You two have your own channel should you need it. Keep me in the loop." He looked at each of them, something unreadable in his eyes, "See you in a week."
Coulson left quickly and Clint turned to Natasha, "No point in delaying if you're ready."
"I am if you are," she said.
"Great."
He took his seat and pulled his headset on. Without looking he knew that she hadn't followed him and waved a hand over his shoulder. "Come on Romanoff, I don't bite."
She slid into the seat smoothly and pulled on her own headset.
"Check, check, one, two," he said into his mic. Natasha nodded and adjusted her strap and then settled back into her seat.
He snorted, "No way you're sitting there the whole time doing nothing."
She glared but there wasn't as much heat behind it as he knew she could have.
"Watch what I do for takeoff, once we're at level and I can engage the reflector shields I'll teach you how to be a proper co-pilot," he wasn't really looking at her, focused instead on initiating the necessary mechanisms to get the jet off the ground.
"Can you teach me how to be a gunner instead?" she sounded genuinely interested.
That earned a short laugh, "If you behave."
Shortly after that they were cleared for takeoff and Clint focused entirely on a smooth ascent into the clouds. It took a little more effort to fly under the radar, so to speak, because he had to avoid all other air traffic.
He had all flights in the area pulled up on his screen and carefully monitored each projected pattern. The good thing with civilian airlines was that they were mostly predictable; in order to be effective they ran on predetermined routes and stuck to schedule.
It made avoiding them much easier.
He didn't have to worry about military vessels at the moment, but as they got closer to their location it would be something he would need to monitor.
Other than that his biggest concern was the potential for a black ops craft in the area or a satellite picking them up before they were shielded. Covert intelligence agencies flew their own planes and operated with as much secrecy as possible, just like SHIELD.
Of course they had agents who monitored those planes and from the screen he could see that there was nothing to suggest that he'd run into anything on the trip there or the return trip in a week, but sometimes they didn't get enough of a heads up to warn the pilot of a potential threat.
It paid to be vigilant.
He walked Natasha through the steps to cloak the jet and then engaged the autopilot function.
"First thing; your cover."
She actually rolled her eyes at him. "Not my first rodeo, Barton."
"Hey, you're the one who gave me my nickname. Always be prepared and all that jazz."
He knew she had it completely memorized because he had it completely memorized. And if he had it down solid then she definitely did. She was an expert in the espionage business.
"Name?" he asked.
"Clair Rousseau, born August 16, 1973 in a small town near Nice. She was a French citizen with known contacts in twenty-three European and Middle Eastern countries. Fluent in French, English, German and Russian and proficient in Mandarin. Her father had ties to criminal organizations across both continents and she showed an aptitude with martial arts and guns that points to formal training. She was hired right out of secondary school by a consulting firm called Tower which dealt mostly with money laundering, overseas bank accounts, and computer encryptions. Four years later the company was completely ruined by an insider leak; she remains the prime suspect. She went off the grid for two years and emerged as a wealthy, self-employed negotiator. She was an independent contractor hired by Jones and Bolstein, a cover firm that deals in weapons. At the time of her assignment she was based out of Marseille and looking to acquire weapons on behalf of the Ten Rings through the firm."
"Jumping ahead a few questions but whatever. What are your clients interested in?"
"High-grade military weapons, anti-tank, anti-aircraft. The bigger the better. Price is not an issue. The sellers, a multinational corporation called Homefront, don't have anything close to the quality that the Ten Rings is requesting so they'll need to work fast to acquire them. There are four known locations close enough for them to steal the weapons from if they want to keep their timetable and not give themselves away by showing everyone that they don't actually have the weapons. "
"Mission specs."
"The meet will be in Belgrade. With tourists and reporters flocking there for the film festival it will be easy to pass through unnoticed. We'll arrive one day before the scheduled meeting time and I will use the rest of today and tomorrow morning to be seen around town. Clair was not known for being a hermit but she was cautious with money and practical with clothing. I will prepare for first contact, which will be tomorrow at 3pm. You will go to the meeting point after we land and check everything over. I have a room to check in to tonight that has been prepaid and you will sleep in a tree."
He was the one rolling his eyes at that.
"At the meet I will get the names and locations of whoever is running the supply end of this operation and, if possible, ascertain when and where they are planning to steal the weapons. We will use the rest of our allotted time tracking down the names I get and ensuring that they are no longer in the business," she finished.
Clint nodded, "We keep the weapons out of the Ten Rings' hands and dismantle Homefront completely. In one week."
"Sounds fun," she smiled.
"You and I have very different definitions of 'fun'" he said, although he was smiling as well.
He spent the rest of the trip teaching Natasha the basic controls, and at her request he went over the weapons system in more depth. Any sane person would have kept her away from the big guns but he figured that he didn't know anyone more qualified than her to handle them, so what the hell.
When they got closer to their destination he called out to their agent in air traffic control to ensure that they were clear to land and received confirmation that the area has been cleared and he was good to make his descent.
The hanger was private and he guided the plane over before he gave Natasha brief instructions to keep the plane running and disembarked to key in the code and open the hanger doors.
She managed to keep anything awful from happening while he was gone so he marked it down as a win in her column. "I owe you a pair of captain's wings," he joked as he coasted the plane into the building.
"I'll hold you to that," she sounded vaguely amused for some reason.
He got the plane in and killed the engine, quickly jumping out again to shut the large hanger doors behind them.
Natasha was checking over her weapons when he returned and he grabbed her luggage out from where it had been during the ride over.
He pulled out his own bags as well and retrieved his comm. device, motioning for her to do the same.
"From here on out this is in your ear at all times," he said.
She fitted it carefully into her ear, rubbing it for a moment until she became acquainted with the feeling.
"Agent Barton reporting. Code: seven-alpha-five-six-three-tango."
"Confirmed." Phil sounded exhausted.
Silence reigned and he belatedly remembered that this was Romanoff's first official mission. He gave her a little hand wave, signaling it was her turn.
"Agent Romanoff reporting. Code: echo-nine-zero-sierra-zulu-four."
"Confirmed. You've landed, then?"
"Yep, just touched down," Clint took over, letting Romanoff listen and prepare for the mission.
They both continued to move around the plane, checking their bags and weapons and taking any backup equipment from the plane that they thought might be helpful.
Clint grabbed extra nylon rope from one of the holding areas, knowing he'd be scaling a lot of things; he'd discovered that no matter what it was- trees, buildings, mountains- it never hurt to have a backup plan. His climbing skills, while exceptional, only went so far.
"You're both clear on the plan?"
He made sure Natasha saw him when he rolled his eyes at Phil's question. For some reason it was important to him that she understood that it wasn't a lack of faith in their abilities that made Coulson ask, but rather a concern for their well-being.
It didn't seem to bother her either way, "Yes, sir. We went over everything on the ride over."
"Good. Barton, move to your primary location. Romanoff, have fun at the shops. Don't abuse the card we gave you too much. I'll be listening in but it's up to you two from now on," Phil's easy confidence and calm voice made Clint feel a lot better now that the moment was rapidly approaching.
"Understood, sir. Barton and Romanoff out."
When he looked back to her she was pulling an expensive looking outfit out of her bag and he walked down the ramp quickly to give her some privacy to change. It was as good a time as any to do some light recon around the hanger anyway.
It was a secluded location and once he left he'd be able to lock it down completely to keep people out. Their agent in air traffic control would monitor the location but he wouldn't be able to do anything other than that if he wanted to maintain his cover.
He finished his sweep of the area but stayed outside.
"You can come back, Barton. I don't bite," her voice sounded in his ear and a small smile tugged at his lips at her repetition of his earlier words to her.
He had to choke back his laugh when he saw her in the pantsuit but she looked at ease and professional and so completely unlike herself that he forced himself to keep a straight face. Her hair was pulled back in a clip and she had light makeup on her face, just enough to accentuate her features without drawing attention to the fact that she'd put effort into it.
"Clair," he said simply.
She nodded, "Anything else?"
"Yeah, actually. I need to know what weapons you have. It'll help me when I'm planning and I can give you better intel if I know what you're aiming to accomplish with what you have on you."
To her credit she barely hesitated but he caught it all the same.
"We're partners on this, Natasha."
She nodded, "Right."
She pulled her weapons out so he could see where she was keeping them and get a better look at the piece.
He was unsurprised to see a Makarov on her ankle strap but was surprised when she pulled out an accompanying silencer from her bag, marking the weapon as a PB silent pistol.
There was a pair of Glock 26s that were usually on her thighs and currently made their home in her luggage. A garroting wire was at the small of her back. She had a boot knife that she briefly flashed before stashing it back wherever she had hidden it in her formal shoes. He didn't want to know how much she'd had to modify those shoes to hold a boot knife.
Finally she pulled out two wrist gauntlets and he smirked, "Thought you said you didn't bite?"
"Be thankful I didn't have them on in Warsaw," she replied. Natasha turned to him and cocked an eyebrow.
He got her message loud and clear and pulled his bags open. He shucked his outer shirt but kept his sleeveless black shirt and pulled his mission vest on over it as well as a black jacket to cover the SHIELD emblem on his vest. He already had the rest of his typical mission outfit on so he pulled out his weapons and knew that Natasha was watching as he packed them away carefully.
First he snapped his bow out and checked it over before collapsing it back and tucking it securely on the small of his back. He knew his arrows were good but he pulled the quiver out all the same and gave them a cursory check before securing the cap over them and pulling it over his head and securing it on his back.
His favored gun, a Heckler & Koch P30, went on his left thigh, and he, too, pulled the edge of his short dagger out of its place on his ankle before he quickly snapped it back into place.
The dagger was one of his most cherished possessions; it had been a gift from Coulson for the anniversary of his fifth year at SHIELD. Neither of them was the sentimental type, and he still hadn't gotten Phil to admit to giving it to him.
He'd found it in his room after a training session and it had been on his leg ever since. He never went anywhere without it. On his first mission after receiving the dagger he'd caught Coulson looking at the new addition and he'd only received a bland, "At least the color matches."
It was a little more decorative than he'd ever admit to liking, but the metal was pitched to make it look like an arrow running down the length of it. A bullseye marked the metal right below the black canvas handle, which was smooth and un-gripped.
"All set?" he asked as he repacked his bag.
She nodded and he couldn't resist one last try. "Natasha, I'm here to watch your back but I can't do that if you lock me out. We need to be in top form after you get the names so don't do anything risky."
"I got it, Barton," she pulled her luggage after her as she left and he heard her voice over his comm. "Black Widow out."
Alright then. Time to get to work.
Story notes first: I am by no means a weapons expert. Everything about the guns and knives I got from online searches. The dagger was designed specifically for the movie and Hawkeye by Jerry Busse and it really is pretty awesome so I suggest searching online for a picture.
Personal note: I can't thank you all enough for your patience. I know this went way past what I originally thought and I appreciate the messages of understanding and support so much and even more that not a single person was mean about bugging me for updates. It really meant a lot and I'm so glad to be back. Updates should be regular from here on out.
As a thank you I have a couple one-shots that I've been working on as well that I'm going to be posting and I have two longer stories of my own design as well as finishing up Budapest for the wonderful fornwalt so there should be a lot coming from me soon!
Also, I made a note of it in my profile, but I was going crazy trying to PM everyone who put the story on alert or favorite so I'll only be sending messages to reviewers from now on but please know that I truly appreciate everyone who reads this, whether or not they review or subscribe.
Always
Sinkme