Thank you to the guest reviewer who gave me the kick in the pants needed to restart this! I've been out for a while after a hard-hitting death in my family that took me a while to recover from emotionally. I was an angsty mess for a long time, but it's finally getting better. And writing is really helping me cope, so thanks for reminding me about this! I love this story and I'm really excited to finally get back on board and finish it!

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I have at least three paper cuts by the time we're done going through the information packets. I hate paper cuts. Makes signing ridiculously hard.

Karakoff, a liason between the Russian military and British Intelligence, was killed in his London office last night at 22:30 Greenwich time. My initial reaction is to ask what he was doing in the office as late as he was, but before I can get up the guts to ask the still glaring and silently fuming Agent Stevens, I notice it's all explained farther down in the dossier. Karakoff was working on a genetic enhancement research limitation deal with the British.

That deal has been the talk of S.H.I.E.L.D. for weeks now. Russian scientists apparently worked out a method of replicating some of their Red Room work. I just hadn't heard enough to know Karakoff was the one behind the deal. No wonder they think Nat did this. If they believe she can still be controlled by Red Room intelligence, they'll assume she was hijacked and used to keep their program from being regulated or shut down altogether.

She's free and clear of their mind control though. Right? Right? What if she has a trigger implanted somewhere so deep S.H.I.E.L.D. never got it out? I came in here sure we were just going to have to go and prove Nat hadn't had anything to do with this. But now, as awful as the possibility is, I have to wonder if they might be right. Nat's never said much about her past. I don't know what she's capable of.

Clint, this looks bad.

I know, Hen. Agent Bitch-face (I've decided I like that much better than her real name, and she'll never know the difference if I only call her that in ASL) is glaring at us for signing again, but she's not my biggest problem right now.

I hate to even say this, but do you think she could have possibly actually done this?

I was really hoping he was going to go off on a silent angry rant about how could I possibly believe this bull crap, but he doesn't. I wanted him to tell me I was dead wrong, that he knows Nat would never. He just looks at me sadly. I don't know.

All I know about the Red Room is that Nat went in there a little girl and came out a cold-blooded killer. She doesn't tell stories from that time. She talks about later, when she was freelance, but the only time she mentions her life in Russia is when she's showing me a few moves that aren't in the S.H.I.E.L.D. field manual. All she ever says is "Don't use it unless you have to. That's a Red Room one."

It looks like our best bet to proving Nat's innocence is the intern boy. Nicholas Ryder is twenty-three years old, from some little nowhere town in Yorkshire England. His sister in law was Russian and got him the posting within a year of his graduation from Cambridge. He's smart, politically savvy, and good with people, or so it seems. Karakoff was notorious for burning out assistants within six months. Nicholas had lasted a whole year and three months. Karakoff seemed to like him and trust him. I wonder if there's more going on there than we know. This kid must have known something. He certainly knows something now. He was looking out the window in the direction the shot came from. He had to have seen the shooter.

He looks trustworthy, with a square, open face, grey eyes, a boyish smile, and chin length dirty blond hair in a loose ponytail. He seems like the kind of guy you'd let buy you a drink at a party or walk you home afterward. The kind without a dishonest bone in him, who just wants to do something good in the world. I know that kind. I used to be that person. I'm not sure if I still am. I've lied and I've hurt people. I still want to save the world though.

"Do we have this Ryder in protective custody or something?" I ask. Bit…Stevens, I remind myself, because if I screw up and call her that to her face I have a feeling hell will rain down, shakes her head.

"He's staying at an MI 7 (I have to think for a minute to remember that that's the British equivalent of S.H.I.E.L.D.) safe house in London. We didn't think it was safe to try to keep him in any of our own places when Romanoff has access to all the safe house locations.

Shit, that's smart. She's right. I try to look like I haven't just made a fool of myself.

"So what's the play, Stevens?" Clint gives her a small nod. I can't tell if he's actually letting her have the reins of this thing or just playing nice so she doesn't decide we're something to squash. She does seem to be the one who knows the most about this…and that infuriates me. I don't like being in the dark. It leads to trouble. Back when I was a freelancer, I took a few jobs where I wasn't told everything about the situation going in. The one I remember best was the suicide bomber when I wasn't informed that his only living relative, a teenage son, was killed by a gang that had its base in the same area he was bombing, because the police force there were trying to cover up their own failure to control gang violence. I tried to appeal to the man's will to live. He took out half a wing of an inner city school. I can't forget that. I failed a lot of kids and a lot of families because people didn't think I needed the whole story.

"The plan is simple. We go in and extract Ryder. With any luck, Romanoff has hacked communications and will know it. When we take him out, she'll come in to wipe off the last person who could conclusively tie her to the assassination. When she does, Barton, you take her out. And McBride, you…stay out of the way. Try not to get yourself killed."

"Wait, so the kid's your bait to bring Na…Romanoff in?" Clint looks as horrified as I feel. Stevens said all this so matter-of-factly it would have been easy to miss the fact that she's painting a target on Ryder's back. She doesn't care if he dies, she just wants Romanoff brought down.

"Casualties of war, Agent Barton."

"We're not at war, Agent Stevens." I can barely get the words past my throat. The kid's picture is still lying on top of my dossier. I won't fail someone else this time. He's going home to his family. He's not going to be collateral damage in her obsessive need to be better than Strike Team Delta. I wonder if she's so determined to bring Nat down to prove Clint made a bad call and that she should be the one S.H.I.E.L.D. trusts.

"If the Russians are allowed to continue this Red Room program, we will be." Stevens sweeps up the dossiers and stands. "Get what you need from the armory. We're on a jet to London in thirty minutes."

I wait until she's out the door before signing to Clint. Well, I guess we're stuck with Agent Bitch-face.

Clint stares at me and then laughs. It sounds good to hear that from him. I know he's even more worried about Nat than I am. I've known her a year. He's known her so much longer. She's more than a best friend, she's a partner. He trusted her. And if she did do this, it's going to shatter him.

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I know it's a bit short, but next chapter we get into the action. And more face-off between Clint and his old rival. Should be interesting...