-04 Days : -22 Hours : -39 Minutes
Finally reaching warehouse thirteen at the docks off of Staten Island, each team calls in their position. The air is damp but warm, the rain being kept at bay as though it's stopping itself from spilling over, giving us hope, leverage.
"Alpha, positioned," Steve chirps.
"Delta, positioned," James mimics.
"Beta, positioned," I call back.
Team Alpha consists of the heavy duty members, Steve, Thor and Tony dressed in his most recent suit model. They are positioned at the front access point of the warehouse, our first line of attack leading the goons to underestimate the rest of us. With our three best weapons taken up, team Beta is Tasha and myself, our second line of attack, sneaky, deadly and underestimated easily. This then leaves our very last line up, team Delta, James and Bruce, a mixture of sneaky, powerful and deadly. I run the plan through my mind over and over as we await Steve's 'go' signal.
"Alpha is green," are the last words I hear before the warehouse erupts into gunfire and shouts of pain.
"Delta, sightline?" I ask James for his POV, readying for my entrance as Natasha listens closely from her nest near the highest warehouse window.
"Too bright, three down on outer defences, no signal from Alpha yet,"
"Let me know Delta. They have ninety seconds…" I reply, stomach swirling with nerves and fingers twitching with adrenaline.
"Alph- Re- ll- pur- Cou- n- pur- Red- …" Steve's voice crackles through the comms as we hit 43 seconds and an EMP wipes out a wide radius. I glimpse Mjolnir, whirling through the air, lifted by heavy lightning to an unknown location.
"Delta, we are red alert. Beta is officially green. Stay in position until otherwise." I hear Natasha scoff as I bolt into the warehouse from a rusted side door, the area is filled with half emptied crates and weapons I vaguely recognise. I take down four guys with my glock, switching to automatic as I hear Thor's thunderous cries from the other end of the building. Natasha and Delta are silent in my ear so I carry on alone, armed to the gills.
"How the hell did you survive?" Steve's distraught tones leave me crouching behind two abandoned 4x4s near the front entrance. I can see Steve on his knees, hands behind his back, Thor unconscious by his side and Tony still in full armour but unable to move due to the EMP, I assume. Whoever caused this I can't make out because of the very stereotypical evil pacing. I assume it's Duquesne but how he managed this operation I'm not entirely sure. My main focus is finding a way around this obstacle to the main offices on the opposite side of the front entrance to my position, that's where Clint's tracker seems to be emitting from. No sign of Barton Sr.
"Vell Capitan, zat mystical orb vas not a veapon but a mode ov transportation, I have travelled vor many years to vinally vind you but vere surrounded by such powervul beings… how vas I supposed to overcome zee 'mighty Avengers'?" Oh God. Oh no. How? Fuck!
The figure of every child from the sixties nightmare makes its appearance before my eyes, the clichéd German accent accentuated by the very American setting and the neon red head is almost comical if he didn't have my family on its knees and my son behind bars somewhere. Red Skull…
"That fucking cube… Thor! When you wake up we're fucking Loki all over again I swear to Odin!" Tony's voice echoes from within the metal suit with its usual speakers.
"What do you want from us, from these criminals?"
"Vat I've alvays vanted, respect and power! Zese idiots gave me a vay in that I never could have dreamed. You mere humans, so veak, especially in the vace of a child…" he laughs and shivers rupture down my back at the near mention of Clint. I'm contemplating a gymnastic move of sorts over some nearby vehicles when I hear the deafening drawback of a hammer from a gun directly behind my head.
"H'very a-matoor of ya Coulson. Heh. Drop 'em," Duquesne drawls as he grips my nape roughly, shoving our way over to his leader, once I've dropped all my visible weapons.
"Ah! The veakling shows his vace at last. How does it veel to be so very vulnerable and alone, stuck in our trap, I know that our little puppet certainly misses his vater…" Hatred burns in my gut and tears almost sting my eyes at Clint's pain.
"I am not alone. We are vulnerable because we aren't alone and my son is not your puppet." I reply venomously, as I'm shoved onto my knees in front of Steve.
It's okay. It'll be okay Clint, I promise. We planned for this, we just realised it was Skull too late. Come on James, please. Come on Tasha.
"No wonder I recognised the weaponry, German make, classic war stylings…" Steve draws their attention away from me, giving us more time.
"Nothin' wrong witha classic, huh?" Duquesne tries to butt in, moving into James obvious sightline as he's immediately taken down, bullet to the brain. Thank you, baby.
"Move! Move! Move! Vind that sniper, vhere is Trickshot?" Red Skull dives as James nicks his upper arm, the commotion allowing Tony's reboot systems to back up fully and laser the cuffs off of me before taking Steve's shield to his, they're vibranium lined, another secret from Clint I suppose.
I take off towards the offices and bolt down the corridor, taking a glance around the corner and seeing Natasha has already gotten down this hallway; it being littered with bodies. I begin to run my way towards the other end of it when I hear whimpers. I know that sound, but where the hell is he… I can hear voices… below me?
Checking the very last door on the right, a staircase is just barely visible, I make my way down, whipping out two other pistols from my ankles. Holding one in my hand and one in the back of my black tactical trousers just in case.
There is one door at the end of the staircase, a small wired window the only view point. I can barely make out a figure in the room due to the tinged yellow lighting and dark shadows but the voice is relatively clear, making my blood boil.
"Stupid fuckin' runt. Always told ya ta watch yer mouth. Never gonna learn. Can't drag ya 'round f'ever Clint. Time ta man up. Take the fuckin' gun or I'll make ya…"
I'm gonna fucking strangle him, I just wish I knew where Clint was, I could tell him to close his eyes. I don't want to kill his brother in front of him but I will if he says another word. I holster my gun in an attempt to stop accidental misfire when I'm unsure where Clint is, I slam the door open. Getting a glimpse of Clint chained by the ankle to the metal bed post in the far corner, and the choice to kill Barney Barton is taken from me as Tasha sweeps in from the ceiling, grappling with the teenager, straight out the door past me. Clint looks up, seemingly unaware of what's happening and, for an awful and terrifying moment I think they've drugged him, then his beautiful bright blue eyes meet mine...
"DADDY!" Clint screams as he launches himself off the browning mattress as I feel my feet pounding right over to him, lifting him into my arms.
"Clint, baby, I'm right here,"
"Daddy, daddy, I told them you'd come, they kept sayin' you're not ma daddy n you never come f'trai-tor, but you promised, knew y'would. Pwease don leave me daddy, pwease! Pinkie promise?!" Clint wheezes out through his tears and shuddering breaths and my heart constricts for my son. I thank every being that I found him and squeeze him tighter in my arms, so oblivious to the world that neither of us hear James rush through the door behind us.
"Phil…" James almost sighs my name as we both whip around to see him standing there, his face filled with relief and body stocked with barely contained anger.
"Dad!" Clint shouts out to him, arms around my neck loosening to make grabby hands for James as our tears spill over. James quick marches his way over, wrapping us tightly in the safety net of his arms. I feel James kissing both our foreheads, murmuring soft notions of love and safety to us before the sickening boom of gun fire causes us to break apart once more.
"This is Silver, I have White and Purple, we are heading to safety. Code Green. Destroy the place. Leave no one behind." James addresses the comms which Clint managed to dislodge from my ear in the hugging. James nods to himself as Steve checks in, confirming Red Skull's demise at his, Tony and Thor's hands. Natasha has Barney and I know James finished Duquesne for which I'm almost jealous. Leaving the destruction and demise of this ungodly place to Hulk and Thor, we remove Clint's chains and make our way out of the building towards the safety of our home.
I huddle Clint closer as his fingers dig into my neck with one hand and his other clutches desperately at James' in his adrenaline crashing sleep, walking our way to the nearest car, that'll we'll end up stealing anyway, rather than walking towards our own. Tony always replaces these kind of things but with this blood on our hands, I don't know what will happen. The surrealistic atmosphere of the situation overwhelms me as James drives us to the tower, covered in blood and ash, in a manual Honda type vehicle with Clint safely curled in my lap and the docks of Staten Island falling into our background.
My family's finally safe…