"One. Two. THREE."

The shrieking giggle coming from William made me laugh as I easily caught him.

"Again." William looked up at me with a toothy grin.

I obeyed instantly. The jumping castle filled with children bouncing everywhere was making it hard to stand. I lifted William up and counted down, he was laughing by the time I got to two. I threw him up in the air again.

We were at Brylee's birthday party. Shelly had gone a little bit mental with it all and roped Abby and Evans into helping. Once my date with Ben had gone well, I was pulled into it all by default as well. Even though it was a nightmare setting it all up yesterday, I had to admit it was a lot of fun today. Alexi was currently occupied with a game so I got some alone time with William for once.

I was probably having more fun on the jumping castle than most of the kids were having.

"Ka." William tugged on my shirt.

"William." I grinned at him. He hadn't quite managed my name yet.

William stuck his fingers in his mouth and pointed towards the entrance. We still had the ball pit to explore so I obediently wobbled over to the entrance. A kid bounced too close to us and I ended up on my ass. Instead of trying to walk with William in my arms I scooted over on my ass for the last little bit.

"Can I just say how adorable this is?"

I looked over at Ben, flushing at his compliment. He'd been standing at the entrance watching me and William having a good time. I'd tried to encourage him into the jumping castle with us but he wasn't having any of it.

"Until he gets over excited and throws up on me," I said with a breathless laugh.

William stopped our conversation by pointing over towards the ball pit.

"Ball pit?" I encouraged him, lifting him up a little. He was starting to get heavy.

"Ball?" William tried.

"Close enough." I bopped him on the nose, earning me another big grin. "Maybe Ben will get in there with us?"

I looked over at Ben who wasn't looking very excited about the idea of climbing through a ball pit with us. He still followed us over there. I dumped William into the ball pit and he took off wandering through it straight away.

I held my hand out for Ben with an expectant smile.

"You know kids pee and vomit through these things," Ben informed me. "And there's no way of disinfecting shit like this."

That made me pause, wrinkling my nose in disgust. Now that Ben had mentioned it I couldn't stop thinking of the cesspool of gross things in that ball pit. At least William looked happy. Then again, he was going through an eating dirt stage right now. He wasn't exactly scared of gross things.

Like he as doing now. William had sat up and was trying to chew on one of the balls. I made a face of disgust and went to move to stop him from catching something. My phone rang, the Imperial Death March was muffled in my coat. Still, Coulson wouldn't be calling on a Sunday afternoon if it wasn't super important.

"Hi," I answered as soon as I fished my phone out. I moved away from Ben's curious look, turning my back on him.

"Mission brief as soon as you can get here." Coulson's tone was clipped and professional. "Bring me some cake if you can wrangle it."

The last request was said in the same professional tone Coulson always used for work. It was added almost as an afterthought.

"I'll see you soon." I hung up without making any promises. The cake hadn't been cut yet and I doubted Shelly would let me hack up the sugar laden monstrosity for my boss. I turned back to Ben with an apologetic smile. "Work. I have to go."

"Really?" Ben looked disappointed. "It's Sunday and Brylee's party."

"Bad guys don't tend to notice things these." I wasn't going to apologise. Especially not to the guy who'd slept in his office on Thursday night because he had gotten so busy. "I'll ring you when I get back."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Evans making his way over to me. Alexi was on his back, bouncing to his every step.

Ben made a noise of annoyance which made me bristle. He took in a deep breath which made the look fall away and was replaced by a tentative smile.

"You did warn me," Ben said, stepping in and dropping a brief kiss on my lips. "Can you hang on for a few minutes?"

"Sure."

No sooner had I said it, Ben walked away back towards the house.

"Kari!" Alexi's high pitched voice broke through the whirlwind of thoughts that were threatening to turn into a tornado.

"Hey, Munchkin." I swung her up into my arms for a hug. "Can you eat my share of cake for me?"

Alexi nodded solemnly before bursting into giggles. She hugged me hard before getting down. Apparently, the ball pit was much more exciting than I was right now. She dived in there, shrieking at the top of her lungs.

"I'm guessing you got the call too judging by the shitty look on Ben's face?" Evans asked. When I nodded, he gave me a half smile. "Can I pester you for a lift?"

"As long as you don't pester me about my love life, sure."

Evans had been extremely restrained in his teasing about me and Ben dating. I was waiting for it to happen. The anticipation was starting to kill me.

"Now, why would I do that?" The grin on Evans' face made me dread the conversation I knew we would have. Eventually and probably at the worst possible moment knowing Evans. "Besides, if that's Ben with cake then I'll promise you it won't be today."

I glanced back to where I'd see Ben last. He was jogging back towards me with two takeaway containers in his hands.

"Shelly iced all the cutoffs so I could take it to work," Ben explained as he got close enough. He held out the containers with a smile. "I heard your boss ask for cake. Can you ring me when you get back?"

"The moment I'm allowed to turn my phone back on," I reassured him. I reached over and gave him another quick kiss.' Thank you."

Ben looked lost for what to do. I didn't have time to reassure him beyond what I'd already said. So I did the sensible thing in my mind, turn around and walked away. Evans was a step behind me. We were both silent as I got to the BMW. It had been viciously cold and windy this morning and there was no way in hell I was riding my Kawasaki in it. Evans was eerily silent and it only took me until the end of the street before I couldn't deal with it.

"Get it out of your system," I said with a grumble. "I know you're dying to say something."

"Not my place to say anything." Evans pleased look was infuriating. "You're a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions."

"Why do I feel like it was a lot of effort for you to leave out the word bad in front of decisions." I couldn't keep the grumble out of my tone.

"Again, you're old enough to make your own decisions." Evans wasn't budging. There was a pause while Evans looked like he was choosing his words very carefully. "He'll have to get used to you leaving like this. That's always something that can make or break a relationship."

I'd seen the fallout of when it did break relationships. A lot. This job was not only hard on us but hard on the people around us too. I'd been lucky so far that it had been a non factor for the whole two relationships I'd had while in STRIKE.

Evans phone interrupted any further train on this conversation. The car went silent as he read through whatever it was. Judging by the displeased expression on his face, it wasn't going to be a fun mission.

"Where are we going, boss?" I asked when it looked like Evans was finished reading.

"Somalia." It was Evans turn to grumble. "I fucking hate Somalia."

I gave him a sympathetic smile. I'd heard the story of Evans last trip to Somalia which nearly got him and the entire Bravo team killed.

"A port in Hobyo," Evans continued with an aggravated sigh. "Someone stole some parts of that alien thing that attacked you in New Mexico. We're going to intercept it."

"Sounds like fun."

I'd heard bits and pieces of information about this. A few months ago the shipment of those parts had been stolen when it was being transferred to PEGASUS in New Mexico. The attack had been well planned and coordinated but there had been no leads on who it actually was.

"Your idea of fun and mine are two very different things," Evans said gruffly, throwing his phone up on the dashboard of the car. "I really am getting too old for this shit."

Evans had been saying that more and more lately. Ever since our mission from hell last year he had been struggling with it. Abby had told me he had half heartedly been looking at getting out or changing jobs within SHIELD. But he had the common problem a lot of people faced. He'd been STRIKE ever since he'd come out of school. It was the only thing Evans knew. Now in his mid 40's he had no idea what to do with his life.

"You can come work for me." I kept my tone light. "Be one of my marketing people. I'll pay you well."

"I am not having you as my kind and benevolent sugar mama, as you keep calling it," Evans said dryly. His lips quirked up into a resemblance of a smile. "Besides, I'd rather be doing this than wearing a suit every day. I don't like people and if I can't shoot them, how would I get through the day?"

That made me laugh. It was one bonus of our jobs. We got to shoot the bad guys.

"I know I don't have to work." Evans reached up and rubbed his face tiredly. "I'll go mental if I have nothing to do though. Sometimes I think that would end up being even worse."

I knew where Evans was going with that train of thought. It was a shitty reality of leaving a job in which your job has been so structured and you've spent your entire life doing. Suddenly you feel as if you don't have a purpose anymore. It could lead to a very nasty downward spiral. Riley had left them more than enough money to live on for the rest of their lives as well.

There wasn't much I could say. Evans phone started going off with text messages. The rest of our drive to the Triskelion was quiet except for the tapping on his phone while he replied to people and the occasional muttering under his breath.

"I have a favour to ask." Evans broke the silence as we neared the garage.

"Sure."

"Can I put Sam with you as a spotter? He's dying to get back into the field but I want someone who will watch his back."

"Of course you can." I was touched that Evans trusted me that much. "He's not allowed to play with my girl though."

That got a smile on Evans' face. As Clint referred to his bow as his wife, I'd begun to call my custom sniper rifle, my girl. Some of the guys in STRIKE were asking me if Natasha was jealous of my new girlfriend.

The carpark was fairly deserted as we pulled in. Lola, Coulson's car was there but I didn't recognise any of the other cars that were coming in.

"STRIKE Team Charlie is coming too," Evans explained as he climbed out of the car stiffly. "Coulson is still tossing up about calling Barton in."

This was going to be a big mission. If we were going in this quickly with two and a half STRIKE teams, things must be very serious.

I followed Evans to one of the meeting rooms. Ryan Dexter, the leader of STRIKE Team Charlie was already there with an oversized coffee and his sunglasses firmly planted on his face. He looked very green as he was nodding to whatever it was Coulson was saying.

"Have a good night did you, Dex?" Evans cut into the conversation with a dry tone.

"It was my brother's 40th," Dexter sounded as bad as he looked. "I still feel drunk. I'm going to need some serious IV fluids on the way there."

I felt like a kid with the adults talking with the three of them there. I handed the takeaway containers full of cake to Coulson while they talked amongst themselves. A few people were starting to file in and I was very relieved to see Clint come in. Coulson must have made the decision while we were walking up to the room.

"What's happening?" Clint asked as he flopped down in the chair. He looked like he'd just woken up from a nap.

"Situation in Somalia." I sat down next to him. "Sounds like we need to hit fast."

"Is this the missing Destroyer tech?" Clint suddenly looked a lot more interested.

"That's what Evans said."

For the first time in a week, I saw a genuine smile on Clint's face. He'd been in such a shitty mood it was a relief to see.

"It's about time we have some fucking action." Clint stretched out, all of his joints popping. "Considering how fucking hungover Dexter looks, I'm guessing we're heading out now."

The room was filling up quickly. Sam tugged on my ponytail as he sat down earning him a dirty look. For that, I wasn't going to tell him he got to be my spotter for this mission. Coulson wasn't wasting any time. As soon as the last person sat down, he was bringing up the projector.

"Three hours ago we got intel that the seller would be meeting this man." Coulson had a picture of a man so black if his eyes weren't open you couldn't see him on a dark night. "Dafari Owusu. He's well known for trying to get his hand on rare and valuable objects. We've had problems with him before with 084's."

Coulson brought up another picture. This one was a typical looking rundown warehouse on the docks.

"Intel says they are meeting here in 15 hours," Coulson continued. "We need to hit them hard and fast to recover the missing parts of the Destroyer. Owusu runs heavily armed and the seller, who we have yet to get a name for, is packing some solid firepower as well."

Coulson brought up a satellite view of the warehouse. It was a typical industrial area. There wasn't a lot of hiding places for us. This was going to be a guns blazing type of situation. A few uneasy murmurs ran through the room at the same realisation.

"Agent's Lyngley, Barton, Copeland and Swanson will provide cover from these four corners," Coulson continued as he pointed out our positions. "Charlie team will breach from behind and Bravo from the front once we have confirmation of the package and buyer."

Coulson paused, looking around the room. Despite his serious tone, he still looked uneasy about all of this. I knew he hated missions like this. Things could go to shit far too quickly and easily. We were being thrown in the deep end.

"We still have a Specialist on the ground so will send updated intel on the flight when we get it. You have two hours to get ready. Dismissed."

Coulson's eyes landed on me and I knew I wasn't dismissed just yet. Clint stood up and gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. I trusted him to get whatever I needed before I could get down to the armoury. No one was fucking around. The noise of everyone getting up was near deafening until the room emptied in a few moments. I waited until there was enough room for me to get through down to the front before getting up and heading down to Coulson.

"I've got you flying there," Coulson said briskly. "There's a backup pilot and navigator coming as well so you don't have to fly home. I don't need to tell you this one needs to be a quick trip. We're getting clearance for you to break all the rules."

That made my day. It had been a while since I was allowed to fly like a crazy person.

"You'll have your coordinates on where to land soon." Coulson paused, heaving a tired sigh. "Go get ready and stay safe. Thanks for the cake."

"Always." I stepped forward and gave Coulson a hug. "I'll keep him out of trouble too."

Coulson had a brief chuckle but didn't say anything else. He hugged me back and gave me a gentle nudge when we broke apart. I didn't need to be told twice. Two hours might sound like a lot of time to get ready but it wasn't. Especially when I had to get ready to fly as well.

It didn't take long for me to get dressed and get to the armoury. It was noisy as people shouted back and forth for gear or lost things. Clint and I were starting to have our own little corner in the armoury with our separate bows, arrows and my sniper rifle. Clint was doing his usual making sure we both had three of everything we could possibly need on us. I swear he was giving me extra weight to make up for our lightweight body armour. As usual, we were the first ones ready to go and in the Quinjet before anyone else. The pre-flight still had to be done which I didn't mind. It was the calm before the storm. Clint stowed our weapons away before coming to sit beside me. He was playing on his phone, not helping in the slightest as usual. He hated pre-flight checks now he actually knew how to do them.

"Natasha is pissed she got left behind," Clint informed me with a chuckle. "Let's take a selfie and annoy her even more."

I scooted over closer to Clint to get into the photo. We both pulled a face at the camera and after a click, Clint was sending it with a shit eating grin on his face. I couldn't help but grin as well. It was good to see him in a better mood.

Finishing my pre-flight took long enough that people were starting to board by the time I powered up. I was checking the last thing off the list when arms circled around me from behind.

"Thank you." Sam squeezed me hard. "I promise I'll sit there like a good boy and not piss you off too much."

"You're welcome." I reached up and squeezed Sam on the arm. It was the only part I could reach without doing some funky moves. "Go sit down. I'm about to get us moving once everyone stops dawdling."

Sam did as he was told. The back of the Quinjet was a dull roar of conversation and people getting ready for the mission. It always amused me to watch it. There was always someone running to take a last minute shit. The smokers sticking nicotine patches on each other in silent understanding. Someone had done a cafeteria run and sandwiches were being passed around. There would be a few thermoses' of coffee hanging around for the flight. Evans was sitting up near the front stuffing his face with cake, ignoring the world around him. After a few minutes, the pilots who would be joining us walked up the ramp.

"Good afternoon, ladies." I switched on the PA. "Sit your asses down and strap in. We'll be flying at 45,000 feet and at max speed. The first person who vomits owes me a really expensive bottle of scotch."

There was plenty of grumbling and taunts back at my smart ass remark. It was lost on me as I eased the Quinjet out of it's parking space. Clint buckled up and didn't utter a word of complaint that he didn't get to fly. I knew he'd glanced at the flight plan and from there he'd left everything in my experienced hands. I had to wait a minute before take-off thanks to air traffic making sure I had a clear path to climb to altitude.

Opening up the Quinjet to full speed was a lot of fun. Climbing to altitude was bumpy thanks to the crappy weather. Even Clint looked a little green at our rapid and bumpy descent. I was eternally grateful Coulson had let me fly for this. I would have been the first person in the back throwing up if I had to trust another pilot with this.

Despite being allowed to fly at maximum speed, it was still a long flight. Clint kept me entertained while plans were being modified in the back. The half of a stimulant was more than enough to keep me wide awake. At least the time gave us a more solid plan. The Quinjet would drop most of us off a mile away. Us snipers would get into position and the rest of the teams would wait in the shadows. Once we got the order to breach, some of the heavy hitters would rappel down from the cloaked Quinjet and hit from above. Hitting hard and fast was really our only option here. I was a bundle of nervous energy by the time we landed.

Sam was the best spotter. He had my weapons out and ready for me before I landed. He even had my extra ammo on him so I didn't have to carry it. I only stopped to give Clint and brief hug.

"Good hunting," Clint murmured in my ear as we hugged tightly. "See you soon."

"Stay safe." I held onto the hug for a few moments too long. Unlike our last mission, this one had too many variables. At least Sam was 50 pounds lighter than Clint if I had to drag his ass out.

Once I let go of Clint, he jogged off into the shadows. I cracked my neck, feeling the tension from the long flight ease a fraction. I hiked up my sniper rifle and with Sam's guidance, headed for our position. He'd been the one to get our position and coordinates for it while I'd been flying through a patch of shitty weather. It was a little after 0100 here local time. There was no moon and it was awkward navigating through the quiet streets in total darkness. I trusted Sam with my life and was grateful I had him to guide the way. Our spot was on a mezzanine floor of one of the surrounding warehouses. It gave me a good view of the building and the east side of everything. The mezzanine floor was dusty and looked unused. It was cramped and hot but at least we had some cover.

The intel wasn't wrong about travelling heavily armed. The seller had 20 men armed to the teeth and that was only from what I could see. When Clint, Swanson the Charlie team sniper and Copeland got into position and confirmed numbers, it climbed to 70 men. The buyer wasn't here yet with his either.

"So, you never told me about the date we tried to crash." Sam broke the silence as we listened to everyone move into position.

I fiddled with my earpiece making sure it was turned off before I replied. Even in the darkness of our crowded little room, I could make out Sam's expression. He looked shitty about the subject but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

"His name is Ben. He's Brylee's Uncle," I explained. I couldn't stop the sarcasm creeping into my voice. "It also went really well. Thanks so much for asking."

"Yeah, well." Sam suddenly looked lost for words. I don't think he was expecting my sarcastic comment. "Barton doesn't like him and I trust Barton's judgement. Why couldn't you just stick with Gareth?"

"I didn't think you liked Gareth?" I gave Sam a curious look. "After all, you threatened to kill him and make sure his body wouldn't be found. Besides, he moved to Hawaii. It was hard enough trying to see each other when he was in driving distance let alone an ocean away."

"Yeah that was before he came to see if I was all right before I was transferred to Germany last year," Sam said grumpily. "I was pretty heavily drugged up but I still remember him telling me to get better and we'd have a beer when he was back in town."

It took me a moment to realise what Sam was talking about. Back on our mission last year with Aldon. I'd been unconscious at that stage and had no idea what happened in the hours before I woke up again.

"He never told me." It was my turn to be lost for words. As far as I knew, Gareth and Sam had never spoken outside of his Valentine Day visit where Sam had been there by accident.

"He never had a reason to. You have a brother who can teleport. I don't see what the problem is." Sam steered the conversation back on track.

"The relationship had run its course." I tried to keep the exasperation out of my voice. I wasn't doing a very good job at it. "It was very much time to shit or get off the potty. Him moving was probably the easiest for things to happen the way they have. Why are you being so invested in who I date?"

I was starting to regret having Sam here as my spotter. This wasn't a conversation I wanted to be having now. Or ever, really."

"Because I promised Riley I would always have your six, no matter what."

Sam's words knocked the breath out of me. It was silly of me really. I knew Riley would have had this conversation with Sam, Jared and Clint. Probably any male that was involved in my life actually.

"And I agree with Barton that this Ben guy is bad news," Sam continued while I lay there gaping at him. "There's something about him that I really don't like."

"I seriously just need a cock to ride at the moment." I fought back a sigh of irritation. "I don't need you to like him or even approve of him. If he hurts my feelings, you'll be the second person I tell so you and Barton can go make him disappear for me."

Sam let out a short laugh. It didn't have a lot of humour in it but it was better than nothing.

"We've got movement down the street." Copeland's voice crackled to life in my ear. "Convoy approaching."

Both of our attention was immediately snapped back to the mission. I looked through my scope again and next to me, Sam was back at his binoculars. I quickly flicked the mic of my comms back on.

The sound of trucks coming down the road sent the small army into a frenzy. Watching from above was like seeing ants scurry around. People were getting into position to guard all sides of the building. I was only 200 yards away and the noise reached us. The dim clatter should have been enough to alert anyone something was happening. Yet the world around us stayed quiet. The port was all but deserted at this time of night. Somalia wasn't a friendly place at the best of times so I wasn't hugely surprised. Even if someone had noticed something going on, they would keep going and stay out of it.

Old military trucks began to roll down the road into my line of sight. As luck would have it, our man, Owusu jumped out of the passenger seat of the first truck.

"Target sighted. I've got a clear shot."

The shot wouldn't get much easier than this. Owusu was shouting at people and gesturing wildly. He was standing right where I needed him in the crosshairs. Though they had the numbers, these men were sloppy. No one was expecting us by the way they casually strolled around. I could have easily taken out half a dozen of these men before their bodies hit the ground.

"Stand down. We don't have confirmation of the package yet." Evans' voice was clear over the radio. "STRIKE Team Bravo in position."

"STRIKE Team Charlie in position."

I could feel my heart rate pick up as my finger inched towards the trigger. Next to me, I could hear Sam's breathing increase as we were poised for action.

"I have eyes on the package," Clint's voice was clipped and professional. "Our Specialist is in play with the seller."

It was a deep breath before the plunge. Everyone would be as tense as I was feeling right now.

"Owusu is heading into the building," Sam murmured next to me.

"I have eyes on him." Clint had the best position out of all of us. He was only across the road on the roof of a building. It seemed like an eternity before he spoke again. "I have confirmation of the package."

That was our signal. I lined up my first target. A heavyset guy standing near the entrance chatting next to the person beside them. It was a ridiculously easy target. Anyone could have done this shot.

"Fire when ready."

I had already picked off my first two targets before Evans had finished the command. It all descended into chaos from there. Men ran from their positions, trying to take cover. I managed to get three more kill shots before the order for the STRIKE teams to move out came through.

"Fuck me," Sam swore as more men came out of the trucks. "This guy has an entire army with him."

"Not entirely helpful right now," I said as I lined up another shot. The man I'd been aiming for fell to the ground with half his head missing a moment later. "Though it is like fish in a barrel."

The sound of the Quinjet hovering overhead took my attention away for a split second. When I glanced back down to take another shot, I noticed a group had peeled away from the general chaos and were heading towards Clint's very exposed position.

"Barton, you've got people headed your way," Sam spoke up before I could. "Six men, all heavily armed. Watch your left flank, Bravo. They're going to try and come that way so this group can get through."

I lost sight of the group as they sprinted around the other side of the building. I didn't much time to ponder on it though. The trucks were like fucking clown cars. It felt like a never ending amount of men were coming from them. I was picking them off as quickly as they were coming. It was infuriating to shoot one and have three more try and get past us. Sam had given up trying to be a spotter and was picking off as many as he could with his M16. I was very grateful to have Sam by my side. He was an excellent shot. I was so focused on everything in front of me, I wasn't worried about what I couldn't see. It wasn't until the door of the warehouse banged open that my attention got pulled away from my scope.

I looked at Sam in horror. We didn't have a lot of protection up here. The walls were paper thin and a rickety staircase was all that was between us and them. Sam had planted some C4 on the stairs on our way in, just to cut off anyone coming up here. It would mean we were trapped if we set it off. I did what I knew best, I grabbed Sam's arm and went invisible.

Sam looked down and I quickly clamped my hand over his mouth before he could make a sound. He was rigid underneath my hand but got the idea very quickly. I slowly moved my hand away from his mouth and went to rest it on my holster.

These men weren't being quiet. I'm sure it was Arabic being spoken but it was too fast for me. Their intent was clear. They were looking for us. Having the area so well covered with snipers was really fucking with their plans. Outside was a chaos of noise. I couldn't tell what was happening over the comms. Heavy boots stomped up the stairs making me tense up even further. My heart felt like it was in my throat by the time they threw the door open.

Six men flooded into the room, weapons up and looking as tense as I was feeling. These ones weren't as well trained as I thought initially. Their nervousness was clear as they walked around the room. I felt Sam shift next to me and his invisible body coming in closer to mine. I did the same, pulling my legs up so I wasn't going to get trodden on. I unholstered my P30 as quietly as I possibly could and held my breath.

The one disadvantage of this tiny room was there was nowhere for us to move to get out of the way. Even though these men were being sloppy in the clearance of the room. There was no way of avoiding them completely. There was no also way to convey to Sam what I was about to do. I really hoped he wouldn't hate me for taking the decision into my own hands. I trusted him with my life, I really hoped the feeling was mutual. Before I could second guess myself, I took a quick calculation and aimed for my first victim.

Letting go to the invisibility as I let off the first shot was terrifying. While our odds weren't horrible, we were still outnumbered. I managed to get off two shots before things got interesting. The element of surprise wasn't always a good thing. Surprised people tended to panic. As I pulled the trigger and shot the third person in the face, he'd gone to raise his AR-15 at me. His body spasmed and his finger was already on the trigger. Most of the shots went wild. Two didn't.

Beyond training, I'd never been shot before. Being shot with a chalk round or paintball was nothing like two bullets at high velocity smashing into my sternum and stomach. I felt like a truck hit me. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I lay there gaping like a fish out of water. The pain was indescribable. I was in too much shock to cry out or utter a sound.

A few more shots rang out, though they sounded miles away. Our little office suddenly shook so hard I thought the entire structure was about to collapse. If I could move I would have covered my ears at the noise. I seriously needed to start wearing proper hearing protection. I was going to be as deaf as Clint by the time I was 30 otherwise.

"Hey." Sam's face loomed above me. He looked wide eyed but he was smiling. "Body armour works."

Sam tapped my chest lightly where I'd been shot. The movement was enough to feel like it was rattling my bones. It hurt so fucking bad but at least I could breathe now. A few seconds later, I could finally move my head enough to look down. For a moment I thought I was going to have a chest and stomach full of blood. Sam was right. The body armour was intact with two crumpled bullets still lying on me.

"Fuck me," I wheezed out with a pained groan. My entire torso had felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.

"No thanks, but I'm sure Rebecca would say yes if you asked her," Sam joked offering me his hand. "I had to blow the stairs."

I took Sam's hand and let him pull me into a sitting position. Moving made everything hurt so badly. For a few seconds, I couldn't breathe again. I gripped Sam's hand so hard that I lost feeling in my fingers. I would have laughed but it hurt too much.

"You okay?" I managed to gasp out once I had enough oxygen in my lungs. I definitely had a cracked rib or five. I was beginning to know the feeling of them all too well.

"I need to change my underwear." Sam's joking tone made me smile. It didn't last long though. The sounds of one hell of a firefight downstairs brought us both back to reality. "I'll cover our asses and you need to get back on that."

Sam inclined his head towards my sniper rifle. I wasn't looking forward to moving. I was only inches away but right now it felt like a mile. I rolled over back onto my stomach and held my breath, trying to will the agony away. A shout from downstairs was the surge of adrenaline that I needed to close the gap between me and my sniper rifle. With an eye looking through the scope I could see the carnage in the street. It was then I realised I couldn't hear anything in my earpiece.

I yanked it out. It was uncomfortable and if it wasn't working there was no point keeping it in. From my vantage point, I could somewhat tell what was happening. There were bodies everywhere. Most of the gunfire was coming from inside the main warehouse now. There were still people on the street, shouting at each other or taking cover from some stray fire. It gave me some much needed focus as I lined up my next shot. A man had poked his head out from behind a truck to yell at someone else. He never got to finish his sentence before half of his head exploded from my round hitting him. Pink mist was a perfect description for it. I was so close that even that man's dental records weren't going to help with identifying him.

Time felt irrelevant right now. Behind me, I could hear Sam occasionally let off a few shots. People were still trying to get into our office. I wasn't always quick enough to get them before they headed that way but Sam made sure any stragglers were taken care of. The sun was starting to peek over the top of the buildings when all went quiet. There was the occasional muffled pop of an automatic rifle coming from the main warehouse but nothing else. Bodies littered the streets. The flies were already coming out in droves to settle on the mangled corpses. Though it was winter here, the weather was still forecast for the mid 80s. The whole place was going to be rancid by mid morning. I didn't envy the cleanup crews for jobs like this.

"Everything's quiet," I broke the silence in the room. I was too sore to move from my spot. The agony of getting shot hadn't decreased over the hours. I'd only managed to push it from my mind to do my job. "My comms are down."

"Mine too." Sam sounded exhausted. "I think I fucked them when I blew the stairs."

I took my eye away from the scope and let myself have a moment to breathe. That had been a lot more full on that I was expecting.

"How are you doing over there?" Sam asked.

I could feel him shift but he made no attempt to move from his position. We were facing opposite ends with our boots touching. The small amount of physical contact had kept me grounded the entire time.

"Fucking amazing," I said sarcastically. It earned me a snort of amusement from Sam. A movement out of the window caught my attention. "Hang on, I've got something."

I tensed as I looked through the scope. A figure in black was jogging down the street. My tired brain took a second to process that a bow in hand could only mean it was Clint. If I could take in a deep breath without my ribs feeling like they were falling apart, I would have sighed in relief.

"Barton's coming," I announced. I glanced through the scope again at him. His quiver was empty but he looked otherwise unharmed.

"Good." Sam moved behind me and came up to the window beside me. He let out a whistle and waved in Clint's direction. Clint acknowledged it with a wave and changed his course to the building.

"Don't bother with the stairs," I called out once Clint was close enough. "We blew them up."

Getting down was going to be a pain in the ass. It was tall enough that jumping down would break some bones. Clint came to stand below us, assessing the situation with a tilt of his head. He looked mildly annoyed as he turned on his heel and jogged away. Judging by his empty quiver, I had a good idea of what he was going to get.

"Thanks for your help, Barton," Sam said sarcastically. "We'll just wait here. No problems."

I grinned. It seemed like my sarcastic mood was rubbing off on Sam.

We didn't have to wait long. Clint was jogging back towards us in less than a minute. When he got closer, I saw him tapping on his bow with a lone arrow in the quiver. This wasn't going to be any type of fun in getting down. Clint fired the arrow into the wall next to our window. As I guessed, he had a grappling attached to the arrow. A long piece of rope dangled down to his bow.

This was going to suck.

Moving hurt. Breathing hurt. Every fibre of my being ached as I rolled over and forced myself into a sitting position. I had to breath through my nose and keep my teeth gritted to stop myself from making any noise of pain. We still had plenty of shit to do and I didn't have the luxury of being able to wallow in self pity about getting hurt.

I wasn't able to suppress the grunt of pain as I got to my feet. It made Sam look over at me with a questioning look.

"I'm fine." I waved him off before he could fuss. It was a bit of bruising and I wasn't going to be a pussy about it. Despite the fact it really, really fucking hurt. "You go first."

Sam did not look thrilled at the idea of repelling down on Clint's grappling arrow. I didn't blame him. It never looked sturdy enough to hold any kind of weight. Besides some minor grumbling under his breath, Sam slid down the rope effortlessly. While he was doing it, I stiffly packed up my sniper rifle and slung it over my shoulder. Looking down made it feel like 50 stories instead of two. Fatigue was starting to gnaw at me now I had stopped.

"Come on, Kari," Clint sounded impatient. "We've got shit to do."

I braced myself for the pain that was going to come. There was no point in delaying it. I swallowed back the groan of pain as I moved to grab the rope. SHIELD didn't believe in safety devices and it was always a little terrifying going down with no kind of safety. I'd done it a million times now but my stomach still dropped every single time I slid down a rope in what was essentially a free fall. I staggered on landing, my stiff legs deciding to turn to jelly at the worst possible moment. Luckily Clint was there to keep me standing.

"You okay?" Clint asked as I straightened up and forced my legs to work again.

"My legs feel like jelly." I brushed off his concern with a breathless laugh. I could complain about getting shot later. "I'm fine."

I expected Sam to speak up and dob me in for my lie. Instead, he was staring at something beside one of the trucks. I followed his gaze and regretted it instantly.

The dead body on the ground wasn't an unexpected thing. There were at least 20 of them lying on the ground around us. This one hadn't been the cleanest shot I'd ever done. It had been one of the last people I'd hit before the fighting stopped. The person had moved at the last second and I'd hit them in the abdomen. I'd gone straight to another target, knowing the shot would still be fatal. Unluckily for that person, he was still alive.

"Fuck." Clint sprung into action first. He reached the man in a few seconds, dropping his bow and putting his hands on the gaping stomach wound. Sam was right with him.

It took me a few seconds to move. When I reached them, I really wished I'd hung back.

What I thought was a man was a young boy instead. The lanky teenager while tall still had a young face. He couldn't have been more than 14 or 15 years old. When we reached him he'd started talking in gasping breaths. I didn't know what he was saying but his pleading tone was pretty clear.

"It's okay." Clint didn't speak Arabic but it wasn't hard to tell what the kid was pleading for. "It's okay, we've got you."

I dropped to my knees. My legs didn't want to work any further. Tears burned in my eyes as I looked down at the terrified face of a kid who knew he was dying. The shot had been close enough that I'd made a big mess of his abdomen. There were intestines showing through the wound and beneath Clint's fingers. None of us needed a medical degree to know this wasn't survivable.

There wasn't anything I could do. I caused this. When you were taking a life by looking through a sniper rifle it was easy to disassociate from it. The bodies hitting the ground seemed inconsequential. Seeing the damage right in front of my face was a horrid reminder about the horrors we faced on every mission. I did the only thing I could think of. I took the kid's hand.

His grip on my hand was near crushing. Tears were spilling down his face as he pleaded for his life. There was nothing we could do except hold onto him watching the life drain from his face. His pleads quickly turned into ragged breaths as he struggled to hold onto life for a few more seconds. With one last bubbling breath, he went rigid. His eyes were wide open and terrified as his body went still. The boy's grip on my hand went slack and his bloody hand fell to the ground as I let go.

I didn't realise I was crying until I met Clint's eyes. Clint opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the sound of retching. Both of us looked over the Sam who was hunched over losing his last meal. If I had eaten on the trip here, I'd be doing the same as Sam right now.

"Sorry." Sam managed to gasp out between him gagging.

"Don't be sorry." Clint moved away from the body and placed a hand on Sam's back. "Want me to hold your hair?"

Sam managed to choke out a bitter laugh as he straightened up. In the grey dawn light, I could see the tear tracks on his face. He reached up to wipe his face with the sleeve of his shirt. He looked as rattled as I felt. So much for me keeping Sam out of trouble on his first real mission back.

"Evans has the building secure." Clint inclined his head back to the main building. "No one had heard from the Charlie boys and you two so I came looking for you."

I envied Clint's ability to compartmentalise so easily. Even though this had affected him, he wasn't going to let it show. We were still on a mission and had a job to do.

"The explosion knocked out our comms," Sam explained as he wiped his mouth. "What happened?"

"Our intel was shit." Clint's face darkened into a scowl. "Owusu had a fucking army with him and they were ready for a fight. Some were well trained but most of them were cannon fodder."

I knew Clint wasn't being insensitive. My eyes still went down to the body of the boy in front of me. I gagged on my next breath and had to force myself up to my feet before I made a mess. I managed to force the bile rising in my throat back down to where it belonged.

"Evans and Dexter are with the Specialist." Clint inclined his head back towards the building. "They have the tech at least. We're waiting on clean up if you want to head inside."

Sam looked torn between taking Clint's offer of heading inside or coming with us. Sam looked back at the building and then back at me. I gave him a tentative smile that was meant to be reassuring. It came out more of a grimace but it did the trick.

"Yell if you need me." Sam's smile was strained. "Do you want me to take your girl?"

"Not a chance." My lips twitched at Sam's attempt to hold my sniper rifle. "She stays with me."

"I offered." Sam held his hands up in defeat. "Be safe."

It was a poor attempt at humour. I appreciated the effort though. This was going to fuck with my head for a while. The longer I could put off the inevitable of it all, the better.

Clint nodded briskly at Sam and started walking away. My jelly like legs didn't want to work for the first few strides as I followed. Breathing really hurt as I struggled to catch up to Clint. I pushed it aside and forced my legs to cooperate to catch up. I still had a job to do even if I was hurting physically and mentally.

The building where the Charlie team marksman and spotter were stationed was eerily quiet. My heart dropped at the silence that met us. I had a horrible feeling about how quiet it was. Swanson, the Charlie team marksman should have acknowledged our presence by now. Clint drew his P30 from his thigh holster and I did the same. We crept up the stairs, weapons drawn and cautious. The first door was ajar and without hesitation, Clint kicked it open. His posture slumped half a second later as I entered the room.

Swanson and his spotter, Grego, were both dead. Their bodies were littered with bullets. It looked like one hell of a firefight but the two were overrun. They never stood a chance. Several other dead bodies were in the room. The flies were already having a field day with the corpses everywhere.

"Dex." Clint's voice sounded weary as he reached up to touch his ear. He waited for a moment before breaking the news. "They're both dead."

A horrible tightness in my chest forced out any breath I had left. I knew both of them well. The STRIKE marksmen tended to congregate together during training. They were both good men. I blinked away the tears that were making the room go blurry.

"Copy that."

I looked over to Clint for guidance. He looked exhausted beyond belief.

"The other pilots are bringing the Quinjet around," Clint explained, slumping against the wall. "Clean up crew is 10 minutes out. Dexter asked us to wait here with them. He's on his way."

I nodded and found my own piece of wall to lean against. There was nothing to do but wait. I closed my eyes, blocking out the horrors of the scene in front of me. Sometimes this job really fucking sucked.

As promised, Dexter didn't take long. I felt bad for leaving him with the mess when he looked so devastated but I couldn't be in that room a second longer. I ignored Clint's concerned looks as I walked out of the room and made my way back to the building. As promised, the Quinjet was on the ground by the time I got back to the main building. I went straight for it. At least flying would give me something to do. On the way, I peeled my blood soaked gloves off and shoved them in my pocket. If I didn't have a visual reminder of everything I may be able to put off my mental break down long enough to fly home.

As I walked to the back of the Quinjet, I found a bottle of water and raided the first aid kit for the strongest painkillers I could find. I knocked back two Percocet. It would be enough to knock me out for the flight home. Hopefully in a dreamless sleep. The two pilots were both watching my every movement in the back.

"Ma'am?" One of them asked tentatively. "Do you need anything?"

A stiff drink would do wonders right now. Unluckily for me, there wasn't any alcohol on board.

"I'm good," I lied easily. "I need to take a piss and I get sick of the guys teasing me about my white ass so I came back here to do it in peace."

Both of the pilots relaxed at my joke. It was a good cover. I put my sniper rifle down on one of the seats and shed as much gear off as possible before sliding into the cramped compartment that was our toilet. I was far too dehydrated to pee so I poured some of the water from my bottle into the toilet so my lie would go unnoticed. I stayed in there until I heard the sound of footsteps coming up the ramp.

Bravo team were the first ones up the ramp. I held my breath as I did a head count and didn't release it until I came up with the correct number. A few guys looked banged up but everyone was still on their feet. Clint was with Charlie team and judging by their numbers, they were only missing Swanson and Grego. Evans was sweaty and dirty but in one piece.

"Dex is hanging back for clean up," Evans explained as he came up and collapsed in the seat next to where I was standing. "We're heading to a SHIELD outpost in Nairobi to regroup before we go home."

Normally I would start making a fuss about me flying home. As it was, now I'd stopped, I could barely keep my eyes open. With the flight here and the mission going for as long as it had, I'd been awake for about 30 hours now. The two Percocet weren't going to help with that at all. I still had half a stimulant left. But I couldn't bring myself to get up and get it. The flight to Nairobi would only take two or three hours max. I collapsed in the chair next to Evans, barely awake enough to strap myself in. I was asleep on his shoulder before I could start to make a fuss about not flying.

I felt like a zombie when Evans shook me awake. It was horribly disorientating to wake up blinking in the sunlight streaming in the back of the Quinjet. Clint was standing in front of me with his hand outstretched. I took it and let him pull me to my feet. I had to lean him as we made our way down the ramp and across well maintained airstrip.

"Coulson is on his way over," Clint filled me in as I stiffly walked beside him. "There's showers, beds and food here for us. I already said we'd bunk together."

I only had the energy to nod in return. Now I was moving, everything ached again. Breathing was becoming tricky and the body armour felt like it was suffocating me. I forced myself not to fidget until I was inside and alone in the woman's bathroom. Clint left me alone in favour of finding food before a shower.

My first problem became apparent very quickly. I was in so much pain I couldn't lift my arms enough to lift the body armour off. I couldn't even get my arms high enough to undo the velcro on the shoulders so it could fall off. Every time I raised my arms above chest height, I couldn't breathe from the searing pain.

The second problem hit me as I was leaning on the sink trying to catch my breath. The images of that kid taking his dying breaths came back to haunt me. The sound of his ragged breathing and pleas falling from his lips wouldn't stop replaying over and over in my head. I'd done that. I'd caused that poor kid so much pain and fear and he had nothing but three strangers to comfort him in his dying moments. Child soldiers weren't unheard of in this part of the world. They usually came from poverty stricken areas, either forced into service of running off in hopes of a better life. I'm sure whatever that boy's reason was for being there last night, he never imagined his life being cut so short.

My hands were still tinged pink from my gloves being blood soaked. I hadn't noticed it until now. I turned the tap on and scrubbed them clean. Even then it wasn't enough. I felt like it had soaked into my bones and I'd never be clean again. I staggered into the showers, turning the first one that I came to on. I didn't bother to check the temperature. I simply slid to the floor underneath the spray, body armour and all. The tears started to fall, mixing in with the water running down from the shower. There I cried for the unknown boy whose life I'd taken without a second thought until the horror of my actions came back to haunt me.

Time was irrelevant as I sat under the spray crying. I was crying so hard I didn't hear the door open. A figure crouched down next to me and I couldn't focus on who it was. That voice I'd know anywhere though.

"I've got you."

Clint pulled me into a hug and let me cry. We both stayed under the water until I was a shivering mess. The cold water brought me back to reality as my teeth chattered. Clint wasn't much better. He was shivering beside me as he reached up and turned the water off. There was nothing he could say to make this better. He made no attempt to either as he got me to my feet. My chest was on fire now and the stab of pain made me sway against him.

"Let's get this off you," Clint said gently as he undid the last few straps on my body armour. With the shoulder straps free, it fell away from my body easily, landing with a dull thunk on the ground.

Clint guided me out of the showers and to the bench in the main bathroom. He didn't bother to get my clothes off and wrapped a towel around my shivering body.

"Hey." Clint tipped my chin up to meet his gaze. He pushed my wet hair away from my face and back behind my ears. The motion was surprisingly gentle and helped the flow of tears subside. "Sam said you got shot. How bad are you hurt?"

It hurt too much to talk. I simply pointed to my chest and stomach. Clint got the hint and started to undo the buttons on my shirt. He got impatient by the last few and simply ripped the rest of the shirt open. Buttons went flying everywhere. If I had my senses about me, I would have made a dirty joke about it. The thought was nearly enough to make me smile. Every trace of it was gone when Clint lifted my tank top up and he inhaled sharply.

"At least the body armour works," Clint said lightly. Despite his tone, he still looked worried. "Come on, you need to go to medical."

Clint wasn't giving me an option in the matter. He picked me up and marched out of the bathroom. It was a good thing I trusted him not to drop me. I was in so much pain I couldn't lift my arms high enough to wrap them around his neck. The base wasn't very big which meant a short trip to medical. We were the only ones in there. I got the full attention of the medical staff right away. Clint held onto me as they cut my shirt off to get a good look at everything.

My torso was one big bruise. You could see where the shots hit because it was two white circles in a sea of black and purple. One x-ray later confirmed I had a fractured sternum and a suspect shadow on my liver had the doctor pursing his lips and muttering about a bruised liver. Then I was subjected to an ultrasound which felt a bit like a torture session as the doctor checked the make sure I wasn't bleeding internally. Luckily, I wasn't. Clint was given very strict instructions to keep an eye on me throughout the night. As far as medical visits went after an injury, it wasn't completely horrible. I had some very good IV drugs which got the pain under control enough that I felt like I could breathe again.

Clint helped me hobble back to the closest bedroom. There was a double bed and air conditioning. Pure luxury compared to some places I'd been at. Without being asked, Clint bent down and began to work the laces off my boots. I could barely keep myself upright from a combination of good painkillers and fatigue. As soon as my boots and pants were off, Clint helped me lay down and get into a comfortable position.

"I'm going to have a proper shower," Clint said softly as he pulled the blanket up. "I'll be back soon."

The thought of Clint leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts made my lip tremble. I grabbed his hand before he could move too far.

"Please don't leave me."

I hated how desperate my voice sounded right now. I should have been better than this. But right now I craved Clint's support more than anything.

"Okay." Clint didn't argue. "Let me get out of my wet clothes."

Clint shimmied out of his damp gear in no time. He crawled under the blanket with me so we were facing each other. The way he was looking at me right now, his own grief and worry clear on his face brought a fresh round of tears to my eyes. I began to cry and Clint pulled me into his arms and tucked me underneath his chin. Despite my tears, I felt safe from the world. Clint's grip was strong but gentle enough not to hurt. He cradled me close to his body, dropping a brief kiss on my forehead.

"I've got you. I'll always have you."

There we lay together, grieving for a boy whose name we would never know having his life cut too short for someone else's greed.

Authors Note

Please forgive the rough edit job on this one. Grammarly only picks up so much and I have to admit, I really wanted to get it out before I went to bed tonight. When this chapter started and I only struggled on one small part, I promised I was going to get this out before the end of the month. I made it with time to spare!

As always, thank you for your reviews and support everyone. I am constantly blown away by how many people are still with me and love this story as much as I do. I was always told to write a story for yourself, make it something you want to read, then other people will fall in love with it as well. It's one of the best pieces of advice I have ever gotten to be honest. It's been an incredible journey.

Until next time.