"So we all agree." One slim finger tapped a space on the map. "We all meet at this latitude and longitude at zero five hundred, tomorrow."
"Zero five hundred as in, eighteen hours from now? Or zero five hundred tomorrow as in forty-two hours from now?" Steve asked her to clarify. The tiny agent gave him a look and responded she meant eighteen hours - they had eighteen hours to assassinate, rescue, detain and obtain information. Leighton was on detainment, Johnson on information, Clint on assassination and of course Steve on rescue. As they loaded up their weapons and agreed on covers and protocols for the chance of capture, the tiny Johnson was glaring up at the rookie and ordering her to stay at base.
"Yes, ma'am. Understood." Morales was looking down at Daisy and nodding, trying very hard not to crack a smile at the waiflike woman. For a commanding officer, she thought Daisy Johnson looked more like a cross child for all the yelling she did. Johnson gave her one last sharp look before grabbing Steve to lead him off to their side of the mission. He turned his head to grin at Morales, who saluted him as they disappeared into thick jungle.
Clint checked over his arrows one more time before going to follow Agent Leighton out. Just before leaving, he stopped and turned back to Morales and gave her a sharp look. "Agent, I want you to follow those orders Johnson just gave you."
"I will, sir."
He glanced behind him again. "I want you to, but if worse comes to worst, you don't have to. In fact, I'm ordering you right now - if the situation calls for you to go against your orders, do what you think is right."
"Sir," her brown crinkled, wide brown eyes conveying her confusion, "Do you think that something's going to go wrong?"
"Something always does, rookie. I'll see you in eighteen hours. Trust your instincts and keep an ear on your comms, alright?"
The archer took off into the dense mass of trees, finding it easy to follow Leighton through the subtle clues left in the leaves. A broken twig, the tiniest break in dirt, a bent flower. It took him mere moments to catch up to the woman and he fell into step beside her, noting the shift in her weight as she took on a more covert manner of walking. It made him smile, knowing she had left the tiny disturbances so he would find it easier to find her. Rachel was a good friend. Or a good approximation of what most assassins would consider a friend, meaning he trusted she wouldn't turn around and gut him for kicks.
The fingers of her left hand were busy twirling a tiny blade around. It was an action he associated with coping, much in the same way he would check his quiver when he felt even the tiniest twinge of anxiety. There was indeed something soothing about have a working weapon in your hands, and knowing that it could be used at any second. The two agents moved through the undergrowth with little speaking, but after twenty minutes, he glanced to his watch.
"We on radio silence?" He asked, his voice low. She shook her head, ducking under a branch. The archer reached up to his ear. "Captain, everything alright? You're being awful quiet."
"All fine. We're close. You might want to change your direction, target's more towards the left." Steve's voice buzzed from his comms, sounding tense.
"Noted."
Clint didn't bother to ask, just moved several steps to his left, Agent Leighton noticing and following as needed. The jungle was tough to manoeuvre through without leaving sign they'd been there, so after another twelve minutes they gave up, still stepping lightly but avoiding the catlike grace they had relied on. When they were within half a mile the voice buzzed in his ear again. "Radio silence from now, we're approaching the right side. No sight of the girl yet."
Clint linked his fingers together, offering Rachel a boost. She sheathed her diamond-shaped knife and steadied herself on his shoulder, using his hands as a step into the leaves above. The lithe spy crawled over the branches, pawing her way over vines and leaves to get higher. Clint was close behind her, grunting at the effort. His hand slipped and he swore, close to losing his balance before Rachel turned and grabbed his hand with a vice-tight grip.
"Watch yourself, Barton." A smile played on her lips. A familiar twang sounded from nearby.
"You watch yourself, Leighton." He tugged her down sharply, just in time to save her from the arrow that whizzed over her head. The woman's eye colour reflected the green above as she looked, her mouth opening with slight surprise.
"How did you...?"
"I heard the string." The archer was beginning to think that the attack was why Steve had sounded so strained. He pulled Rachel along to the next tree, the two of them making their way through the jungle without going to the ground. He could feel the tension rolling off her body in waves and abruptly let go of her hand, pulling his bow free and knocking an arrow without a word. He kept them in a loose grip as they neared the compound in an attempt to be both ready and inconspicuous. High windows came into view, and from behind them, a smug looking bastard. Steve and Daisy were just visible off in the distance.
"Ready?"
He ignored Leighton's question, pulling back the string and taking aim. His aim was true, the sturdy arrow shattering through the glass at burying itself in its mark. He leaned backward, glancing down to see Rachel sprinting forwards with a blade in either hand. Her aim was as good as his as three shocked soldier-types got the pleasure of discovering before something sharp landed in their necks. Foreign voices screeched their outrage, and foreign heads made the mistake of appearing at the shattered window. Four arrows in quick succession made easy work of it.
"This is far too easy," he muttered, his suspicion rising, but he ignored it.
The archer stayed in his perch, using his skills from a distance. It didn't take long to incapacitate everyone who needed to be incapacitated without killing them, and Leighton took care of everyone that needed to be dead. As a knife so expertly thrown by her landed in the eye of a machete-wielding maniac, she turned to grin, giving him a thumbs up. Everyone around had been taken out.
Then the bullet tore through her middle.