A few notes on the story: each chapter begins with a flashback, it is almost completely written so updates should come every day, and I will put additional warnings at the top of each chapter as they apply.

This story is rated M for violence, mentions of past abuse, torture scenes, and later sexual content.

Please don't hesitate to review! I would love to hear what people think.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any characters/organizations/plotlines related to them. If I did, we'd have a lot more Black Widow and Hawkeye.

Thank you BlackHawk's Child and buddha49 for reviewing!

Apologies for the delay in updating, I don't even have an excuse. We should be back on track for the rest of the week!


Semey, Kazakhstan—1998

Natalia stayed silent as they bounced across the countryside in the utility van. The other two girls were shaking, one was whimpering. Neither had left the Red Room before and Natalia found their behavior shameful. The man in the driver's seat didn't look back at them once. Zabolotny sat in the passenger seat, and though he never turned around to face them, Natalia had no doubt he was watching them and would report directly to Ivan when they returned to the Red Room.

But for now, they were out of Russia and outside of Ivan's immediate control. Natalia planned to enjoy her time away, no matter what the assignment turned out to be. She'd seen a sign a few miles back on the road for Semey, a town she knew to be in Kazakhstan. It was a major nuclear facility during the Soviet Era. Was it possible that they were going to deal with radioactive materials? Natalia didn't know.

"Girls," Zabolotny said as the van came to a stop. Up ahead, Natalia could just see the lights of the town.

The other two jerked up, shaking with fear.

Zabolotny's lip curled as he examined them. "We will walk from here. You have a very important job when we arrive in the city. You must help me locate a scientist. And then we will capture him and return him to his homeland."

Natalia nodded. She understood. The others looked frightened.

"We will stay together unless I give you orders to go on your own," he continued. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Natalia said. The other girls were a beat behind her in responding.

"Come."

Natalia shivered as she stepped out of the van and into the cool, night air. A slight breeze chilled her skin in the otherwise pleasant night.

"We must hurry," Zabolotny said.

Natalia followed him as he began walking briskly down the street.

"Why couldn't we drive the whole way?" one of the girls asked.

He turned with a glare, "Are you too weak to walk a bit in the night? Then you should just wait here."

The girl looked cowed and ducked her head.

Natalia stayed silent and focused on the task ahead. How hard could it be?


SHIELD Base, New York - 2008

"Vacation's over," Phil announced as he strode into Clint and Natasha's SHIELD quarters.

Natasha straightened from her seat on the couch and tried to pull her feet off Clint's lap. He held them in place, earning an exasperated look.

"Hey, Phil," Clint said. "I see you've survived without us. No idea what vacation you're talking about though."

Phil sent the younger man a glare, "We all know your last mission was a bit of a joke."

"Boring," Clint said. "The word you want is boring. I think Nat nearly killed me once or twice just so she would have something to do."

"You have no idea," Natasha muttered.

Clint pouted at her, pretending to be hurt by her comment.

She only shrugged in response.

"Regardless," Phil continued, shaking his head as he pulled the agents back on topic. "We need the two of you on something."

"Well that's specific," Clint said bluntly.

"Is this unofficial?" Natasha asked, swinging her legs off Clint. "Since we aren't having an official briefing?"

Phil shook his head, "I'll explain more once we're on our way. The three of us need to be on a plane to Cambodia in thirty minutes. Barton, you're flying."

The assassins hurried to gather their gear. They were waiting in the hangar five minutes early, both anxious about this mysterious mission Phil had received upon his return. When their handler arrived moments later, he gestured to the jet they would take.

Clint began circling the plane, completing his pre-flight checks while Natasha and Phil settled all of the gear in the cargo nets. The moved to the top of the ramp to wait for Clint to finish.

"Why the secrecy?" Natasha asked quietly, though it appeared they were alone in the hangar.

"Fury isn't sure who to trust on this. He's worried someone might tip off our guy since he always seems four steps ahead of us."

"What makes this time different?"

Phil shrugged, "It's our first confirmed location in almost two years. And unlike last time, only a handful of people know we've found him."

Silence fell between them. Natasha waited to ask about the details until they were in the air, mindful of the possibility of someone overhearing them.

"Clint's been on off-book missions before," Phil told Natasha. "He knows what to expect. But I should warn you, because this is unofficial, backup is nonexistent. It'll be just the three of us and we can't afford any mistakes."

"I understand," she replied, voice devoid of emotion.

Phil looked at the woman beside him and huffed a laugh, "I guess none of that's too different from the way things went with the Red Room."

"It is a bit familiar," she agreed with a small smirk.

Clint boarded the plane and took his seat, giving the other two agents a pointed look.

Phil leaned towards Natasha to whisper conspiratorially as they took their seats, "How long until he complains about missing Christmas?"

Natasha studied her partner for a moment before answering, "Thirty minutes tops. But I'd put it closer to fifteen."

Phil chuckled and strapped himself into the seat.

"Base, this is Alpha Foxtrot 7-9-3-4-6 ready for take off."

"Alpha Foxtrot 7-9-3-4-6, you are cleared for takeoff," a voice crackled over the radio in the cockpit.

"Here we go," Clint said with a smile as he maneuvered the plane out of the hangar.

They were ten minutes into their flight and had reached cruising altitude when Clint switched autopilot on and turned to his handler, "So why are we having to fly to Cambodia and therefore miss Christmas?"

Phil and Natasha rolled their eyes at his emphasis on missing the holiday.

"Does the name Miguel Sanchez mean anything to you?" Phil asked mildly.

Clint frowned, "Peruvian scientist that's on one of SHIELD's lists. Can't remember which list…"

"What does SHIELD want with a geneticist?" Natasha interrupted to ask.

"Mostly to keep him and his research from anyone else. There's also evidence suggesting he runs highly unethical trials, often on young children," Phil explained.

Natasha's eyes darkened, her voice was deadly when she spoke again, "What kind of experiments?"

Clint's steely gaze turned to Phil as he, too, waited for an answer.

Phil sighed, he should have known this mission was going to be difficult for his agents, "Nothing concrete. He offers money to the kids, often the eldest children of struggling families. In exchange, they give him blood and bone marrow. Eventually, he starts testing various gene therapies on them. To be fair, he does actually pay them and while there have been some side effects, none of them seem truly life threatening."

The assassins exchange dark looks.

"Here's what's going to really piss off the two of you," Phil continued with trepidation. "We're going to apprehend, not kill."

Natasha looked positively mutinous at his words.

"Why the hell are we keeping him alive?" Clint demanded.

"He's made some incredible breakthroughs in genetic modification. His goal is to eradicate genetic diseases. It's just his methods that are the problem." Phil explained.

"The ends don't justify the means," Natasha whispered.

Phil was struck just then by how young she was and how she had been the subject of experimentation when she was a child. Hell, the Red Room had done everything they could to "enhance" her, genetic modification was the least of their crimes. "No they don't," he replied sadly.

"SHIELD thinks they can get him to change his ways?" Clint mused.

Phil nodded, "We can't lose this guy, hence the speed and secrecy. I know what I'm asking isn't easy for either of you."

"It never is when kids are involved," Clint sighed heavily.

"It doesn't look like he's been in Cambodia long enough to move to human trials. We can stop him," Phil told them emphatically as he rose from his seat. He pulled two folders out of his bag and handed them to his agents. "Here's the info and mission parameters. I'm going to catch some shuteye while I can. We'll discuss specifics in a few hours."

As he lay down on the floor in the back of the jet, Phil watched Natasha slide into the copilot's seat and began whispering to Clint in Russian. Pushing thoughts of their new mission out of his mind, Phil allowed his sleep-deprived brain to take control and drag him into unconsciousness.


Sisophon, Cambodia - 2008

Natasha found herself enjoying the city of Sisophon in the northern part of Cambodia. Sure, it wasn't New York and only a few areas of the city could be called nice (those were where the tourists stayed). Of course, SHIELD had put them up in one of the nicer slums, they had their own house, but the surrounding neighborhood was crumbling, ramshackle buildings piled upon each other. The people were poor, but they weren't the worst off in the city. Most importantly, the people were nice. It was rare for Natasha to go somewhere she didn't speak the language. Turns out, most Cambodians spoke Khmer. Some of the older ones spoke French and many of the younger ones knew some English, but communication had proved challenging at times.

Luckily, a few of the older women living on the street (mostly in houses stuffed to the brim with children and grandchildren) had taken pity on the trio of SHIELD agents temporarily living among them. They showed them the markets and helped them haggle for food. The women laughed at their bumbling attempts to learn the language and had quickly come to love Clint. Clint had also managed to charm his way into the hearts of the children that spilled into the streets everyday. They'd drag him out to play soccer or see the newest stray they'd found.

For once, Natasha felt almost peaceful on a mission. They knew where Sanchez was staying, but hadn't seen much of the man. He seemed to be keeping to himself for the moment, something that allowed the agents to relax. If he was staying inside with no visitors, he wasn't experimenting on anyone.

Clint stepped into the safe house and smiled at Natasha, "Merry Christmas!" He'd been out running surveillance on Sanchez for the last few hours. Sanchez followed a strict routine that involved napping for two hours each afternoon. As a result, Phil had decided they would meet and talk strategy every day during those two hours.

"Anything new?" Natasha asked.

Clint shook his head, "Where's Phil?"

"He's been whisked off to buy some food by our neighbors," Natasha said with a smirk.

Clint's gaze took on a slightly predatory gleam, "So we're alone…"

"But not for long," Natasha warned as he stalked closer.

She allowed him to back her up against the kitchen counter, smiling at the playful glint in his eyes.

"Who says I need a long time?" Clint rumbled, stepping into her personal space. "There's no snow, but I think a kiss would make up for it."

Natasha rolled her eyes before leaning up to capture his lips in a heated kiss. If there was something she'd never tire of it was kissing Clint. The man knew how to kiss and he always seemed to kiss her exactly how she needed or wanted him to.

Clint's hands moved to rest on Natasha's hips as her arms twined around his neck. He pulled away for a moment and cupped her face with one hand, smiling adoringly at her, "You know, I love you."

Natasha felt her lips mimic her partner's, "You may have mentioned that once or twice."

"Good," Clint said before kissing her breathless again.

"Merry Christmas! I have food," Phil announced as he walked in the door, causing the two assassins to pull apart. He froze when he saw their position against the kitchen counter and cleared his throat awkwardly. Setting the bag he'd brought inside down the table, Phil started to back away, "You know, I'm going to—uh—wash up."

Natasha closed her eyes and let out a huff of laughter as she leaned her head against Clint's chest, "That wasn't weird at all."

Clint shrugged and hugged her for a moment, "Could have been weirder."

Unable to disagree, Natasha followed him over to the table and watched as he partner start digging through the bag of food.

"It smells great," Clint told Phil as the other man walked back into the room, looking only somewhat disturbed by what he'd walked in on.

"Good," Phil said, trying to keep his voice steady. He wouldn't meet Natasha's eyes.

Clint sighed dramatically, "Come on, Phil, that was not the worst thing you've walked in on me doing. We were just kissing."

Phil raised an eyebrow at his agent.

"What do you mean not the worst thing he's walking in on you doing?" Natasha demanded, half angry half curious.

Clint looked guilty for a moment and shook his head, "You know what, never mind. Let's eat."

"Subtle," Phil muttered as he pulled out his own box of food.

Natasha continued to stare at Clint. Her stare quickly had him shifting uneasily in his seat until he broke, "It was one time and I don't even remember her name."

Natasha smirked in triumph and turned to her own food.

Phil started laughing, "Barton, you realize that you just broke in under a minute? Maybe we need to give you a counter interrogation refresher when we get back to SHIELD."

"Nat's ten times scarier than anyone SHIELD has in counter interrogation," Clint shot back. "Honestly, she's probably scarier that anyone I'll be needing those skills for. There's also the fact that I would like to sleep in a bed tonight."

"And you think confessing that Phil walked in on you with another woman would ensure that?" Natasha teased.

Clint sent her a pleading look, "About Sanchez, the guy is pretty predictable. But people would notice if he suddenly disappeared. I think we're going to have to get him to go with us willingly."

Natasha continued smirking but allowed the topic change.

"That'll be difficult," Phil said after he swallowed. "Sanchez has been offered a place with SHIELD in the past. He turned it down. I don't see him coming in willingly."

"Okay," Clint allowed. "Maybe not willingly, but we can't just snatch him off the street or out of his house if we want this to stay quiet."

"We've been here a week and he hasn't done anything to indicate he's planning on leaving anytime soon or that he's ready to start trials," Natasha pointed out. "There's nothing to suggest we have to rush this."

"I have a feeling our timeline isn't as long as we think," Phil said with a shrug. "It's just a gut feeling, nothing concrete, but the fact that he's been out in the open so frequently in the last week makes me think he's hoping to be found. The question is, by whom?"

"Who else is looking for him?" Clint asked.

Phil shrugged, "I think it's safe to guess that there are several governments who'd love to get their hands on him, Interpol is interested, and of course we've got the baddies like HYDRA searching for people like him. Not to mention the numerous think tanks that would love to have such a gifted geneticist. AIM comes to mind…"

"Great," Natasha said. "So we need to get him to come with us relatively soon and we have to do it without alerting anyone else who wants him or making his neighbors suspicious."

"We're going to need a plan," Clint sighed.

"He's been going out to a bar every other night, maybe we try approaching him there tomorrow night," Natasha suggested.

"How are you going to get him to talk to you?" Phil asked. "The guy is bound to get suspicious easily."

Clint gave Natasha an appraising look, "How about we send in Nat as a young, unassuming American. If he won't talk to her, then we can flash the SHIELD badges, and if that fails we can just hit him over the head and drag him onto the plane."

"Well as long as we've got a plan," Phil said sarcastically while Natasha nodded in agreement with Clint.


The smoky atmosphere inside the bar made it difficult for Natasha to see Sanchez's face from across the room. She and Clint were occupying a table in the back corner, deeply shadowed. They were each sipping at their beers and studying the man seated at the bar.

Sanchez couldn't take his eyes off of the entertainment. A young couple was dancing on the stage, both scantily clad. The woman kept wrapping herself around the man, her actions clearly sexual. Natasha had to admit they were a talented act, though she wondered how long they would stay on stage. This bar was a weak cover for the brothel running above it. To give them credit though, they seemed to deal in men and women equally.

Sanchez took a swig from his beer, eyes never leaving the stage.

Natasha nodded at Clint and slipped away from him, over to the bathroom so that Sanchez wouldn't think she was with anyone.

Sauntering out of the bathroom, Natasha caught practically every eye in the room. She leaned against the bar and ordered another beer. The bartender leered at her as he passed her the bottle. Natasha popped the lid off and smiled at Sanchez beside her. She took a sip of the beer, making sure to wrap her lips all the way around the top.

"American?" Sanchez asked. His words were just slightly accented.

Natasha nodded and held out her hand, "Natasha. I'm here on vacation. I decided to take a year off before I have to find a job. I really wanted to see the world."

Sanchez nodded once, and turned back to the stage.

Natasha frowned slightly, it was unusual for men to not react to her. So either Sanchez was very good at hiding his emotions, or he wasn't interested.

"They're quite good," Natasha remarked, watching the stage with Sanchez.

"Indeed," Sanchez replied evenly, still not looking at her. He lifted his beer to take a drink and whispered softly, "He is very good."

Natasha caught herself just before she reacted to his words. She kept her face neutral, pretending she hadn't heard anything, meanwhile running through every option she had.

She threw a glance over to Clint's table and caught his eye. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking her what was going on.

She nodded towards Sanchez and shook her head, hoping Clint would figure out he needed to come over.

Clint pushed himself up from the table and stalked through the bar. He wasn't sure how Natasha wanted him to play it: jealous lover, friend, brother, strangers?

"Clint," Natasha beamed as he walked over. She turned to face Sanchez, "This is my friend, Clint. We're traveling together, you know, since I'm not his type but I definitely need a strong man around to make sure nothing happens."

Clint tried to keep the confusion from showing in his face, what was she talking about?

"Miguel Sanchez," the man said smoothly, offering his hand to Clint.

Clint shook it, smiling at the man, "Pleasure to meet you."

"Clint, what do you think of the guy on stage?" Natasha asked, giving him a significant look.

Confusion bloomed in his eyes for a moment before understanding took over, "He's decent. I've certainly seen worse."

Natasha nodded in response to Clint's unasked question. Yes, Sanchez was definitely not into women.

"I'm going to the bathroom," Natasha announced, stepping away from the bar. "You boys watch my drink!"

Clint gave a cheery wave to her retreating form before turning back to Sanchez. It was time to lay on the charm.

"What brings you to Cambodia, Miguel?" he asked, signaling the bartender for a beer.

Sanchez shrugged, "My work requires I travel. This is just the most recent place on my own version of a world tour."

"Oh?" Clint said, curiosity tingeing his voice. "What kind of work do you do?"

"I'm a geneticist," Sanchez said with a proud smirk.

"Really?" Clint leaned forward. "That's like those guys in Jurassic Park, right?"

Sanchez's smirk widened, "Not necessarily. You see, they focused on nonhuman DNA. My research involves humans. I'm hoping to cure all kinds of dreadful genetic disorders."

"That's amazing," Clint said. "So, you could design a person?"

Sanchez nodded, "If the desire struck me, yes. However, there has been a lot of debate as to whether someone should design a person. I personally, believe there is no need if we can learn to alter the genetic code after birth."

"That's fascinating," Clint was saying when Natasha returned to the bar.

"I'm tired," Natasha mentioned with a yawn.

Clint nodded, "I guess I should get you back to the house. You know, Miguel, I'd love to hear more about your work. Maybe you'd like to come back with us…"

Sanchez appraised Clint for a moment before nodding and smiling, "I'd like that very much."

The trio exited the bar and began walking down the street.

"We've got a car over here," Clint told the man, gesturing around the corner.

Sanchez didn't object as they slid into the beat up vehicle and Clint turned the engine over. Natasha made sure to sit behind Sanchez in case he tried anything. She pulled out her phone and sent Phil a text, confirming they had the target in custody.

"Message received. Meet you at the airfield." Phil replied promptly.

"Tell me about yourself, Clint," Sanchez demanded.

"Well," Clint drawled, glancing at Natasha in the rearview mirror. She nodded once, giving him permission to reveal themselves. "I work for the government mostly. Some long distance work, occasionally close up if it's needed."

Sanchez's eyes widened, "You're—"

"SHIELD," Natasha supplied helpfully.

"You're going to kill me," Sanchez said, horrified. He tried to open the door, pulling with futility at the handle.

"Don't worry," Clint told the man beside him. "We're not allowed to kill you. SHIELD wants to talk to you."

"Though, if you don't cooperate, well, we may have to resort to excessive force and who knows what will happen then," Natasha added.

Sanchez was paralyzed in the passenger seat, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because we were ordered to," Natasha told him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Trust us, we'd love to kill you. What kind of psycho experiments on kids?"

Sanchez was wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

"We cleared to take him to the airfield?" Clint asked.

Natasha nodded, "Our ride will be there."

"I can pay you," Sanchez offered into the silence after several minutes. "I have money."

Natasha laughed cruelly, "Believe me, you couldn't afford to hire us."

Sanchez had seized upon the idea though and didn't want to let it go, "I'll give you everything I have, please, let me go."

Clint rolled his eyes and hung a hard left, sending Sanchez sprawling across the front seat, "Don't you get it? We're not doing this for money, if we were in it for the money we wouldn't be working for SHIELD."

"Then you are in it for your morals," Sanchez said. "Perhaps you don't understand the work I'm doing. I'm going to save humanity from itself by curing all genetic diseases. Just imagine: Alzheimer's, Cystic Fibrosis, Down Syndrome, Tay-Sachs, Sickle Cell, all gone. Think of the children left alive who will get to meet their grandparents, the children who will never have to worry about dying because of their DNA!"

A fanatic fervor had risen within the man and he slumped down into his seat, breathing hard.

"Your experimentation on innocent children is what bothers us most," Clint said through gritted teeth. His eyes kept flicking back up to the rearview mirror.

Natasha found herself biting her lip, wanting to turn around but unwilling to risk giving them away if they were being followed.

"The ends don't justify the means," Natasha told Sanchez firmly. "SHIELD isn't looking to stop you from researching. Based on what I understood, they want you to work with SHIELD backing and funding in order to continue your research. The difference is that there wouldn't be any free experimentation on humans and especially not on kids."

"My experiments have revealed so much to me," Sanchez protested.

"What about the hundreds of children you've left behind? Either weakened by your experiments to the point where they can't survive, or turned into outcasts and mutants. You've hurt more people than you've helped, and that means something is wrong with your method," Natasha told him. The longer she listened to Sanchez the more she realized that he actually did want to help. He was just misguided.

"We're being followed," Clint announced.

Natasha turned quickly in her seat to see a large SUV on the road behind them. "Subtle," she muttered.

"Who is it?" Clint asked. "I thought we were the only ones who knew he was here."

"Who knows?" Natasha said with a shrug. "We've been here for a weak, it's possible someone else knew. The question is how did they find us so quickly?"

Natasha grabbed the seatbelt Sanchez was using and pulled on it hard, forcing him back against the seat and restricting his breathing, "Who did you signal?"

"N-n-no one," Sanchez stuttered. "I have many enemies. I didn't want anyone to find me."

"Not even your sponsor?" Clint demanded as he accelerated and blasted through a busy intersection.

Sanchez shook his head frantically.

Up ahead, two more SUVs pulled out into traffic. The vehicles moved to block the road in front of Clint.

Natasha pulled out the gun she'd brought along. She checked that it was loaded and unbuckled her seatbelt, "You want me to take them out?"

Clint shook his head, lips tight in frustration as they barreled towards the roadblock, "No point. Those vehicles are definitely bulletproof. We need to lose them and get to the airfield."

"I'm calling this in," Natasha told Clint as she pulled out her phone and rapidly dialed Phil. "We've got three hostile vehicles—"

"Five," Clint corrected as two more appeared behind them.

"Make that five," Natasha continued. "We don't know who they are but they're well trained and definitely knew right where to find us."

"You don't think…" Phil breathed into the other end of the phone.

Clint's head shot up as the implication in Natasha's words hit him. Of course, someone had sold them out.

"Can you get to the airfield?" Phil demanded.

"Probably, but we'll likely have them right on our tail."

"Try to lose them, but get here as fast as possible. I'll have the plane ready, I can get us in the air, so you just have to get Sanchez on board."

"Copy," Natasha told him and hung up the phone. She tapped Clint's shoulder, "Head to the airfield. The jet will be ready, we've just got to get onboard."

"Hold on," Clint warned. He pressed down on the accelerator and the car jumped forward, speeding down the bit of street remaining before the roadblock. Natasha braced herself while Sanchez began shouting in Spanish. At the last second, Clint jerked the wheel sideways and sent them careening into oncoming traffic. Luckily, the drivers were paying attention and stopped before running into them. With a glance back to see that the hostiles were still in place, Clint speed up and drove back the way they'd come. He took a right and hurried to disappear from the new street before the hostiles caught up again.

"I see one," Natasha told him. She'd turned around to watch through the back window. "They're gaining."

The car hummed beneath them as it accelerated.

"That's about all the speed we're going to get out of this," Clint told her.

Sanchez was in the passenger seat praying, "Padre, por favor perdóname mis pecados y me llevan a la salvación. Te pido tu protección y tu favor, vigilar mí esta noche y todas las noches por venir…" (Father, please forgive my sins and lead me to salvation. I ask your protection and your favor, watch over me this night and all nights to come…)

"Is he…?" Clint asked in surprise as he took a small side street, winding his way towards the airfield.

"Praying?" Natasha finished. "Yes."

"My driving isn't that bad," Clint muttered.

Turning out onto a main street again brought them into view of another large, black SUV. The windows rolled down as they approached and bullets flew through the air towards them.

"SHIT!" Clint swore, swerving out of the way.

Natasha held on to the seat as the car jerked beneath her.

Sanchez wailed in terror.

"Okay," Natasha said once they were no longer being thrown about the car. "New plan, stop trying to lose them and just head to the plane."

"Got it," Clint said. He pressed his foot to the floor and the car lurched forward. He was still driving erratically, switching lanes and making seemingly random turns to try to keep the hostiles far enough back. Natasha knew they were headed in the right direction though; Clint's sense of direction was phenomenal.

"Ten minutes," Clint said. "How do you want to play this?"

"Jump out and run when we get there," Natasha replied. "I'll grab Sanchez, you cover us."

Sanchez continued to rock back and forth in his seat, mumbling bits of prayer in rapid Spanish.

Clint gave her a doubtful look but nodded, "I'll get us as close to the plane as possible."

The gunfire sputtered to an end not long after and Clint focused on getting them there quickly.

Gravel crunched beneath the tires of the car as Clint hit the brakes. They had made it to the airfield. Unfortunately, they were unable to get within one hundred yards of the jet awaiting them. A small concrete wall stood in their way, only a foot and a half tall, but their car was too low to get over it.

"Ready?" Clint asked as they came to a stop.

Natasha flung her door open in response, dragging Sanchez out of his own door in the same heartbeat. Clint threw the car into park and followed her lead. Within moments they were all outside of the vehicle and headed for the plane, Sanchez stumbling along as Natasha pulled his arm.

The hostiles piled out of their own vehicles and quickly took up positions, weapons aimed at the trio hurrying across the open space. They had just crossed the wall when someone issued orders to the men hostiles, "Kill them, aim for the red head."

Natasha's eyes widened infinitesimally.

Sanchez suddenly slumped to the ground.

Clint looked down at him incredulously, "He just fainted."

Natasha nodded, "This guy is dangerous?"

The hostiles started shooting and Clint bent over scoop up Sanchez, "Cover me, I've got him."

Sanchez bounced against Clint's back as the younger man took off sprinting for the jet. Natasha followed at a slower pace, sending her own shots towards the gunmen, making them duck for cover and interrupting the hail of bullets.

The ramp shook as the agents pounded up it. Once inside the jet, Clint dropped Sanchez to the ground and hurried to the cockpit. Phil slipped out of the pilot seat and moved to the back with Natasha. Together, they dropped the handful of hostiles charging towards the plane.

The ramp began to fold up and they stepped out of sight once the ramp provided enough cover.

"Buckle up," Clint called back.

The two agents hauled Sanchez into a seat and strapped him in. He was starting to regain consciousness and looked very confused as to his location. Natasha gave him a disgusted look before going to take the copilot seat. Within moments they were in the air.

"Well that was stressful," Clint said once they'd all started to relax.

Natasha gave him a dirty look before turning to Phil, "Someone sold us out."

Phil nodded, "I know. I plan on looking into once we're back at SHIELD."

"What's going on?" Sanchez finally managed to say from his seat. He looked sick.

Phil nodded to the agents in the cockpit and turned to Sanchez, "Hello Mr. Sanchez. I'm Agent Phil Coulson."


SHIELD Base, New York—2008

Fury listened to the trio in front of him as they reported their actions during their time in Cambodia. He was glad they'd managed to bring Sanchez in without too much difficulty, now it was up to him (and Hill) to convince the man to start working for SHIELD and using ethical methods in his research.

"It was strange," Natasha told him firmly once they'd reached the point where they were at the airfield. "When the hostiles exited the vehicles, one of them told them to take us out. They weren't there for Sanchez, or at least they didn't want him alive. In fact, they were told to 'aim for the read head.'"

Fury frowned, "Was it the Red Room?"

Clint was the one who responded, "No, the speaker was American and they didn't have the same presence as the Red Room employees I've met. But I agree with Romanoff, Sanchez wasn't the goal. They didn't come after him until we had him in custody. Why wait when they could have snatched him before we did?"

"Sir," Phil said. "We're fairly certain someone sold out the mission. We had no intelligence reporting there were other interested parties in the area and it wasn't until I reported success that those parties appeared. There's a mole inside of SHIELD. It's too much like Siberia for it to be a coincidence. Someone is targeting Hawkeye and Black Widow."

"That's worrying," Fury said mildly. "We'll need to start looking into that. The two of you have proved yourself to be the best agents we've got and make a formidable team. It's not surprising you've made enemies, but it's disturbing that those enemies seem to have the power to actually come after you."

"I think someone on the Council might be involved," Clint told the room.

When everyone looked at him doubtfully, he shrugged, "Think about it, they don't like us to begin with. Then there's the fact that some of them are downright hostile to us. If someone on the Council is pulling the strings, they'd have access to the information and resources required to come after us in Cambodia and to tip off the Russians while we were in Siberia."

Natasha shrugged once, "It's plausible, but we need proof."

"Phil," Fury said. "I want you to look into this discretely. Don't focus on the Council though. Trace it from the bottom and we'll eventually get to the top, but we don't want to tip off whoever is pulling the strings. I agree something is going on. Meanwhile, Romanoff, Barton, don't get yourselves killed."

"That's real helpful," Clint said sarcastically.

"Get out of my office, Barton," Fury growled.

Dismissed, the three left the office nodding to each other as they went their separate ways, each thinking about the conversation they'd just had.


AN: Thanks for reading! Again, I'm sorry for how long it took to update. I'd love to hear what you think!

Preview of Next Chapter: "Phil," Clint interrupted. "Be honest, how bad is this?"

"Really damn bad."

"Great," Clint said. "Let's get to work then. We certainly wouldn't want the bad guys to win first thing in 2009, it would set a bad example."