Chapter 8
It was several hours later when they first heard the cars. They had gotten their gear on and gotten the townspeople out of the city. Many of them with grumbling and curses aimed at them. Now they were stationed on a rooftop, Clint's idea, and were waiting for almost certain death. So naturally they were cracking jokes. You wouldn't understand, it's a hero thing.
"So you ready to get into a fight with Hawkeye?" Clint asked cockily.
"Wasn't I in one earlier?" She asked generally confused, before adding, "you know it's weird when you refer to yourself in the third person." He just smirked back.
"That was a bar fight. This is a real fight. Plus now I have my bow. I feel much more Hawkeye-like." She rolled her eyes and eyed the dust on the upcoming cars.
"How do you wanna play this Hawkeye? Want me to just send the cars flying? We can be done and head to the base." She glanced at him, deciding to follow his lead this time, as an apology of sorts for adding to their problems. No way was she going to tell Clint Barton sorry in any other way.
"No, we still need information from a couple of them. You can take out a few, but don't do it if it puts you at risk. Let the rest of them come. I'll put an arrow in their knees." He looked rather confident and excited. Daisy rolled her eyes.
"A skyrim reference? Really?" She looked at him as his gaze snapped back to her.
"What?" Daisy tried to hold a poker face as best she could.
"What?" He stared at her for a long moment before turning back to the scene of their imminent demise.
"Sneak around back and take out the last three cars. We should be able to deal with two carloads of guys," he said. She nodded.
"You sure that's not too many?" She asked. He just grinned at her. "You have a death wish." But she got up and snuck over to the end of town. She waited until the cars had stopped, gave enough time for men to unbuckle their seat belts before she sent a large wave of vibrations at the back three cars. They flew off, rolling into a mangled mess, like they were toys.
The men in the remaining two cars piled out quickly and one was immediately met with an arrow in the chest. They ducked and ran for cover. A couple more men took arrows in less vital places. Daisy pulled her gun and began firing at the men of Hydra, whom were running like mice to find a place to hide.
For the next hour it was Hydra men trying to pick her and Clint off from their hiding places and Clint keeping her entertained over comms. Then finally they became a hair smarter. She saw one pull some form of rocket launcher out of the back and aim it towards Clint's rooftop.
"Clint! Get down!" She shouted into her comm as the man fired. She saw a purple and black blur jump from the roof and land on the ground in the street, rolling gracefully. But the Hydra goons opened fire as Clint tried to scramble behind a car. She saw him flinch and stumble, but he made it to cover. He pulled an arrow out of his quiver, winked at her from behind the car, stood up, and fired. It sailed into the general direction of the Hydra goons. After about three seconds, it exploded. Men flew everywhere. All of them were hurt and bleeding in some way. Daisy ran forward and began searching the bodies of the dead and wounded men. She found a couple USB drives that she could probably find helpful. And ran over to Clint who was standing against the car he had used as cover. He looked over to her and smiled, though she could tell it was forced.
"Not bad, kid. Almost impressed me." He chuckled. She glared at him.
"What about you old man, you sure you should be jumping off rooftops?"
He winced and sighed, "You'd think that I would learn… I fall off roofs often enough." She took a step toward him, glancing him over.
"You okay?" He stopped her and tried to take a step forward, muttering that he was fine under his breath. She gave him credit; he made it all of two steps before collapsing. She hurriedly turned him over and inspected him; she saw what had caused it now. A gunshot to the side; he was losing blood at a slow but steady pace. She looked him in the eyes, they were dazed and pain. He grasped her arm.
"Left jacket pocket. Take me there and no where else. And don't… wreck my car…" His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and the back of his head eagerly met the road. She unzipped his jacket and dug into the pocket of his combat uniform. She didn't feel anything. She dug deeper.
If she hadn't been so distressed to find something there, she wouldn't have felt it. In the lining of his jacket she felt something shift against her fingers. She ripped it immediately and found a small piece of paper. She glanced at it. It was an address in northern Iowa. They were close enough to the border that she could get there in an hour. She would need to bandage his wound now to hold him over, but she should be able to get there.
"You better not die on me Barton. I can't have the Black Widow coming after me." She muttered to the unconscious man. He didn't respond.