Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Marvel. I just have fun with their characters.

A/N

Whoa, the number of people who are following and favouriting this is still growing week by week! Thanks guys, I'm glad that everyone likes it enough to want to read more.

Also, thanks to all my reviewers! fezwearingjellybananas, ledeera, Hofherp and Armand all reviewed chapter 6 so thanks guys.

I was sick last week and along with having to move three and a half hours away to Uni was feeling pretty bad and all your reviews, follows and favourites helped me to keep a positive attitude and gave me something to focus on other than how bad I felt. I honestly can't thank you enough, there are almost forty followers to this story now which is incredible! Six chapters down and twenty favourites is also mighty impressive and makes me happy that people like what I've written so far.

This story would not be what it is without the input of my beta's Midnight Star26 and jaguarspot! They both deserve a huge round of applause from us all for their hard work on improving this chapter and the whole story in general. Any mistakes that remain are mine.

Since I left you on a cliff-hanger last week I'll shut up now and let you read. Enjoy!

(ADDED NOTE: It seems from reviews that people think this is going to be forty chapters long. It isn't, it is ten chapters long as the A/N on the first chapter says. I was mentioning how many follows I have and how many favourites there are considering the whole ten chapters isn't posted yet, I didn't realise that's how people would interpret it as it didn't sound that way to me. I was not saying how many chapters there are. Sorry I wasn't clear guys but there is only 10 CHAPTERS! Sorry about the confusion.)

But what we call our despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope. George Eliot

Chapter 7: Tokyo

Tokyo, Japan: June 1998

Clint sat on the single mattress in his motel room in Tokyo. If it actually qualified as a room that is as it was closer to the size of a closet. It contained a single mattress on the floor and one straight backed wooden chair, nothing else. The bathroom was down the hall, and shared with the twenty or so other people living or staying on this floor, all of whom knew how to mind their own business. The room had a flimsy door which had a lock on the inside and a small window. Clint had made sure when he booked in that his room would have a window, it was small but Clint knew if he had to he could climb through it, and it looked down on the roof next door so he was happy. All in all it wasn't much, but he'd survived with less and lived in much worse conditions and it would do for the time being. Besides, he wasn't planning to be here more than a week or two at most.

This was the third time Clint had been to Tokyo. As a result he spoke Japanese fluently and knew the best places to stay that kept you under the radar. This was vital knowledge as Rule One in his personal assassin's creed was "don't draw unwanted attention to oneself".

The same man had hired him the other two times as well. The first time around Clint had made a seemingly impossible shot from two blocks away in a rainstorm using his bow and arrows. That was early on in his career, he hadn't even been out of the army for two months. The second time had been much easier; he'd simply killed the target while he was at a party thrown by the boss of his company. For that job he'd used his sniper rifle because the client requested it, which didn't make much sense. Why hire an assassin who is a master archer and not use his skills? He'd paid Clint well however, so he had complied with the man's odd demands.

This time he was told he could use his bow. Good, Clint much preferred it to his rifle even though the rifle was a real beauty, top of the line. Clint felt that using guns was cheating; anyone could aim at a target and pull the trigger. It was the bow that took real skill to shoot. Even though Clint's main base of operation was Paris the rifle was stored safely away in a storage locker in Madrid along with a few other things he wanted kept safe. He didn't carry the rifle around with him; he always had his bow and numerous knives on hand, though he didn't intend to get within a 20 metre radius of his target at most.

The target this time around was in the same business as the other two people Clint had retired. As far as he could tell his client didn't like these men, for what reason Clint didn't know. He just knew the hatred his client had for them ran so deep he was willing to pay someone a lot of money to kill them. Clint privately thought that was slightly over-reacting but he was being paid well so he didn't question the man's motives.

Clint didn't really care why the man wanted these people dead, it wasn't relevant to the job but it was a good idea to have some knowledge of the person who hired you regardless. From what Clint knew he was a shady character and, despite occupying a high spot in a successful company, some of his actions when he wasn't at work were slightly unorthodox to put it mildly. He was involved with more than a few shady types. He was good at keeping a lid on things, and his outward appearance couldn't have been more miss-leading as he never did the dirty work himself, he hired people like Clint to do it for him. Clint wasn't worried about that, all he had to do was take one shot then go home. No one would even know he was here until he'd already left, just the way he liked things to be.

About the same time as Clint was thinking these thoughts Coulson was on a SHIELD plane bound for Tokyo, briefing the two men he'd hand-picked to accompany him on this mission, both were listening intently. When Coulson had finished Grant Harrison, a young man with dark hair who had previously worked for the FBI in special investigations, was shocked.

"Whoa, hang on Coulson, you saying this kid who's barely old enough to vote has managed to hide from SHIELD for 16 months and was working as a hit man for about 9 months before he even appeared on our radar? That's disturbing; more to the point how is that even possible?"

Thomas Boyd, a former soldier with fair hair who Coulson had known for a long time and was very good with technology shook his head in disagreement.

"What's disturbing is the fact that he had over 100 confirmed kills to his name and is supposed to be dead himself. He causes an awful lot of chaos for a dead man."

Harrison nodded thoughtfully at that before he addressed Phil.

"So Coulson, howdah ya suggest we do this?"

Boyd also looked to him waited for his reply. It went without saying that Coulson was in charge of this mission. Coulson often commanded missions involving groups of agents from the ground while acting as team leader; for more complex or covert missions handlers would keep tabs on happenings from afar and move in to help if it became necessary. This had never stood quite right with Phil. People often complained that he was like a mother hen regarding those under his command on missions, always right there with his charges ready to protect then no matter what. But Phil couldn't help himself, the chances of something going wrong and him not been able to do anything about it until it was too late because he was too far away were far too great for his peace of mind.

It had happened once and the guilt from that incident had almost killed him, that agent was the sole reason Phil preferred to be on the ground with his team at all times if it was possible. Due to this he didn't know if he would ever be able to handle a covert operative again.

Phil answered Harrison's question.

"I think our best weapon against this assassin will be the element of surprise. We know he's good and I want all of us to get through this operation alive and in one piece. The plane he boarded is confirmed to have landed in Tokyo without any stops but he hasn't been seen on a camera since he left the airport. We have a line on every security and surveillance camera in the city and I'm hopeful that it's only a matter of time before we get some hit on his location; SHIELD has even established a line from ATM and traffic cams directly back to us. And once we find him, well I'm not quite sure how we take him out. If anyone has any ideas I'm listening."

Harrison and Boyd both looked thoughtful. Silence reined in the plane for about 5 minutes while everyone sat there deep in thought about how to take down the assassin. Predictably it was Harrison who spoke up first, having received training for similar sort of stuff while still with the FBI, training that he now put to good use in this scenario.

"What if we find out who hired him? On second thoughts that is probably impossible. Or, I know, Coulson; do you have any idea of who his target could be? Has anyone else been killed in Tokyo with arrows that you know of? Just a thought, one thing they taught us in the FBI training program was to look for patterns to our targets movements."

Coulson looked straight at Harrison with an intense expression.

"Actually now that you mentioned it, yes, we have had one confirmed kill using an arrow in Tokyo. That was about 14 months ago, so it would have been very early in his career if it was Hawkeye. That's the only one we know about though that doesn't mean there wasn't more. We suspect this assassin of carrying out way more hits than the ones that have actually been attributed to him."

Almost before Coulson finished speaking Boyd chimed in with "do you have the information on that hit with you?"

Coulson looked at Boyd with a puzzled expression.

"Yes, but there's not much info on it."

"It's got a name right?"

Coulson nodded and rummaged through his briefcase before finally extracting a file. He opened it and ran his finger down a list of names printed there before coming to rest on one.

"Daiki Sasaki was the name; he was an employee of a company called Comtech. They basically work with computers and technology, designing, building, marketing all the usual sort of stuff. The kind of thing you love Boyd. It's a successful business but Sasaki wasn't a high up employer by any means, he simply worked in the building department as a general labourer. It would appear that he wasn't targeted because of the company, but who knows. That's all the information we've got on him."

Harrison's frown had deepened as he listened and once Coulson was finished he spoke again.

"Do you know where he was when he was killed?"

"Yes, we actually do. He was killed by an arrow through his heart as he got out of the taxi that dropped him off out the front of a restaurant. He was going to have dinner with some of his co-workers but never made it inside. It was raining cats and dogs at the time and the wind was ferocious apparently, yet the arrow still found its mark as it killed him regardless of the weather conditions. Like I said before, Hawkeye's good. He's the best hit man we've seen for some time."

They discussed ideas and plans on how to find and take down Hawkeye for the best part of the next three hours and eventually they came up with one that might work, providing they could find Barton. It left far too many ifs for Coulson's taste, but it was the best they could come up with and as they were all experienced agents he pushed his concerns to the back of his mind to concentrate on planning all the details. Phil didn't want to underestimate this assassin by assuming anything, a mistake which could prove to be disastrous for them. That finally settled, the men decided to try and get some sleep so they'd be ready to start searching as soon as they arrived in Tokyo.

After a brief rest Clint headed out into the city to find his mark. He was in surveillance mode so left his bow and quiver behind. They weren't the best thing to carry around when you wanted to be discrete, well the bow could be made discrete by folding it in on itself but the quiver was a dead giveaway every time. He had his knives hidden around his body as usual but Clint hoped nothing would force him to use them. He just never felt safe unarmed anymore.

He headed towards the business part of the city where the company his target worked for was located. The man to be eliminated this time was higher up in the company than the last two; he was a supervisor of the marketing department. Once he reached the right building Clint hid the best way he could in a busy, crowded city, out in the open.

He sat down in the cafe located just down the street from the Comtech building, making sure he chose a seat which gave him a good view of the main front door, he kept his dark glasses on so it wouldn't be obvious he was watching the building. He knew his mark's facial features by heart, he'd memorised the photograph he'd been given down to the last detail. Clint ordered a coffee, speaking flawless Japanese to a giggling waitress who tried her best to hit on him before skipping off to get his order, and then opened a newspaper he'd purchased and pretended to read it. All the while he kept his eyes fixed on the front door of the office building waiting for his mark to appear so he could shadow him.

Phil and his small team reached SHIELD's safe house, located in a warehouse section of Tokyo, in the early evening. It wasn't a very big place, just a single room with a small bathroom leading off it; two cots, a couple of chairs and a table stood in the main room. That wasn't a problem though, when they got an opportunity to sleep one of them would keep watch at all times so three cots weren't really needed. They'd all managed to get some rest on the plane so they weren't as tired as one would expect at that time of night. In fact with the mission in front of them they were raring to go.

"So, the first thing on our list was to find him if I remember correctly and I do have a rather good memory." Harrison grinned from the chair he had claimed, it looked like the most comfortable one in the place. SHIELD safe houses were seriously in need of an upgrade, Fury was working on it but the paperwork was taking forever. "How's the computer going with that boss?"

This was directed at Coulson, who shook his head from where he and Boyd were busy setting up their equipment.

"Nothing yet, so once we have this mountain of cables sorted out I suggest we do things the old fashioned way and do some hands on recon. My suggestion is we split up and two of us wander around town for a bit. One stays here and keeps in touch with the others over the comms as well as keeping an eye on what the computer picks up seeing as the program is still running. Boyd, I think you'll be the best one for that. I don't know what we're likely to find Harrison, but keep an eye open. We just might get lucky."

"Okay Coulson." Boyd agreed readily, seeing the sense in the plan. Unlike Coulson and Harrison he wasn't really trained in stealth. He was more a point-him-at-something-to-shoot kind of guy, and found these sorts of spy games very tedious at times. He had the brains for it but not the patience. That was something that he'd been told numerous times by many different people and though Boyd kind of disagreed with that he didn't bother to correct them. He simply found spying with computers to be much more exciting and rewarding than doing it on foot. With a computer he had all the patience in the world.

They each took a different part of the city, Coulson took the business district, which even at this time of night wasn't deserted, and in a dark suit he easily blended in with the crowd. Harrison made good use of his FBI training to spy on all the restaurants and eating places in the town without being too obvious. They both had a fair idea what Barton looked like, but despite watching for four hours and covered the whole CBD area and several surrounding streets they came up with nothing. Eventually they returned to their temporary base to be greeted by Boyd with the depressing news that the camera search was still a blank. They took turns to sleep for what remained of the night, one of them watching the computer at all times.

Beep, beep, beep.

The loud insistent beeping made Coulson wake up startled, though if that hadn't woken him up the squeal of delight from Boyd probably would have. Phil groggily sat up and tried to think, it only took his sleep-addled brain a few seconds to remember everything and a suddenly very wide-awake Phil half-hesitantly asked, almost not daring to hope.

"Has it...?"

Boyd nodded, a huge smile on his face as he turned to face Coulson throwing his hands out with a dramatic flourish gesture.

"Yep, this baby here has picked up an almost perfect facial match for our Hawkeye. He's currently in a drugstore not that far from here. I hacked into the security footage of the store and secured a line back to us on the off chance he would show up, I did it with several small stores located around the place. Have a look at the footage."

Harrison, who was also awake by this time, joined the other two in front of the laptop. It had been almost four days since they'd arrived in Tokyo and so far they had found no trace of the assassin they'd been sent to eliminate. Now all eyes were on the screen.

They watched the slight figure standing in the drugstore. He had his head down and the hood on his jacket pulled right up over his face so it was now hidden in shadows. He stood at the counter with a few groceries; his back was facing towards the camera as he talked to the man behind the counter. The man was facing the camera and they could see he was talking to the hooded figure who was listening and nodding. Suddenly three men wearing black masks burst through the door. The younger man spun around suddenly and the camera caught a full-on shot of the man's face for the second time as his hood fell off. Even if the facial recognition hadn't picked up on it there was no doubt that the hooded figure was indeed Clinton Barton, aka Hawkeye.

The men watching the footage didn't bother to communicate in words. Coulson and Harrison grabbed their comms and headed out the door strapping on their weapons as they went, leaving Boyd to feed them information. Deciding it would be quicker to walk than use the car they'd rented as the store was located like a block away, the two of them jogged towards the store in question. Boyd's voice came over the comm.

"He's still in there. Wow; he's giving those robbers a beating! I think one is already dead. I can't believe what I'm seeing, this is incredible. They're twice the size of him! You'd better hurry guys, looks like he's close to finishing up in there, this assassin doesn't mess around when there's a job to be done."

Boyd kept them updated as they hurried to the store. When they arrived Hawkeye was apparently still inside, according to Boyd he'd been injured but had still succeeded in taking the three guys down singlehandedly. The two agents hid in a garden just up the road and watched.

Moments later a small figure came out of the shop. He had his hood pulled up again hiding his face, his right sleeve was torn, and he had blood splattered over him that was visible to the watchers in the garden. He glanced quickly up and down the street, missing the SHIELD agents hiding in the garden on the other side of the road just up from where he was. After a moment he shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking the other way, still glancing furtively around him. Coulson confirmed to Boyd they had him in sight before slipping out and following him at a safe distance, Harrison by his side. Less suspicious if two men were walking down the street together in plain view not trying to hide. Coulson didn't intend to engage Barton right away; he wanted to observe him first, though correct protocol would be to take him out right then Coulson didn't always adhere to protocol. After having spent so long looking for the assassin and trying to figure out how he'd carried out some of the hits that were attributed to him Coulson wanted to do recon first. He tried to keep his excitement and anticipation in check and concentrate on the matter at hand as he silently followed his prey.

Clint had just finished buying his groceries and was sharing a joke with the owner of the place (who he knew fairly well having bought most of his groceries here every time he came to Tokyo) when those three men had come bursting through the door, demanding to be handed all the money in the place. The look on the owners face made Clint's blood boil; he was an innocent, hard working and honest man being bullied by thugs, so Clint didn't think twice about what he did next. He flung himself at the first man, punching him in the jaw, ducked a clumsy blow and then did a back flip so he landed out of range before the other man could retaliate. Clint saw the other two pull out knives and mentally sighed, why couldn't things ever be easy.

A little less than five minutes later three men lay on the floor, two unconscious and one dead, his neck having been broken, Clint wasn't one of them. He sheathed his own knife in his boot, ignoring the ache in his right bicep from where one of their knives had cut him, told the owner who was watching him open mouthed to call the police before the men returned to consciousness, and then shoved his groceries in his pockets. Pulling up his hood he hurried towards the door, slowing down just enough so as not to appear suspicious when he stepped out onto the street. He glanced quickly up and down the road as he exited but saw no one.

Shoving his bloodied and bruised hands in his pockets (that man's face had been hard damn it) Clint started walking casually down the road, keeping his eyes open for anything suspicious. The back of his head hurt from connecting with the hilt of one of their knives and more than a few punches, as a result Clint was sure he had a slight concussion, so when he saw a run-down taxi stopped by the sidewalk while the shady looking driver had a smoke he didn't hesitate to hail it and hop in, a generous handful of cash passed to the driver was all it took to stop any questions. After giving his address Clint sunk down in the back so he wouldn't be visible to anyone looking in and willed the taxi to go faster. He just wanted to get home and clean himself up and wait for the world to stop spinning. Man, he hated concussions and he seemed to attract them like a magnet wherever he went.

The SHIELD Agent's watched Barton get out of the taxi before heading into a dilapidated boarding house that looked like it would fall down if a big enough gust of wind came along. Harrison looked across at Coulson from the driver's seat of the car they had 'borrowed' and asked the obvious question.

"What now boss? We know where he is staying."

Coulson taped his comm.

"Boyd, we need you here immediately. Target entered a boarding house and is confirmed injured. Here is the address."

Coulson then looked at Harrison.

"We watch until Boyd gets here and make sure Hawkeye doesn't leave. Then one watches the front door and the windows on one side, another watches the windows on the other side, and the last one enters, finds his room and takes him out. I've been in these sorts of places before and as they share a wall with the house behind them I know there won't be any back windows to watch which makes our job a bit easier."

"If Hawkeye manages to get away from the one inside then either one outside takes the shot. The windows in that place are tiny but given his track record of doing the impossible we'll still watch them all. When Boyd arrives we'll decide who does what."

They watched and waited for almost 15 minutes until Boyd arrived with their own car. The other two abandoned their 'borrowed' car (Coulson made a mental note to call an anonymous tip into the local police later) and climbed into the back seat of their car so the three of them could discuss their plan. Coulson, it was decided, would enter and eliminate; Boyd would watch the front door from behind the car with his rifle ready, and Harrison would position himself on the roof of the abandoned store building across from the house where he could see all the windows and the side entrance. That way even if Hawkeye got away from Coulson inside he would still be exposed to either of the other two and they could take the shot.

Another advantage to these positions was that if he killed Coulson and tried to get away he would still expose himself. Both Boyd and Harrison were happy not to be inside but cautioned Coulson to be careful not to get shot or in any way killed. Coulson only nodded grimly and replied.

"I'll do my best not to, you both be careful as well. This isn't an amateur we're hunting and SHIELD's Kevlar vests might stop a bullet and be pretty well knife proof but I'm not sure how they would fair against an arrow at close range and I'd rather not find out any time soon. Make sure you keep the comms open so we can all hear each other at all times."

The other two nodded in return and each man went to his assigned post.

Clint had just gotten back from the bathroom after cleaning and bandaging his arm and was holding an ice pack to the back of his neck to try to ease his throbbing headache (he hated painkillers, they had the tendency to interfere with his thinking process) when he heard one of the stairs creak and then suddenly go silent in a way that suggested whoever was coming up was trying to be very quiet. He instantly froze and listened, thankful for his finely tuned hearing aids, though he still missed his own hearing. He knew how most of the people who were staying on this floor walked by now but these footsteps were new, he'd never heard them before which wasn't a good sign. Clint didn't like how stealthy the steps were, plus they were heading towards his door. In a place like this people don't try and walk quietly unless they have a really good reason for doing so.

Clint grabbed his things, strapped on his quiver and picked up his strung bow silently in the space of about seven seconds. The steady footsteps stopped just outside his door, but Clint didn't wait any longer. Ignoring his still aching head and his injured arm he hurried to the back window, the only one this building had, it was small but Clint knew he could fit through it. It was open just as he'd purposefully left it and Clint began climbing through, careful not to make any loud noises.

He was almost through when the door to his room was kicked in and the sound of a gun been cocked could clearly be heard. Clint registered that the intruder was wearing a dark suit and met his eyes for a brief moment before he was through the window and rolling down the roof. He heard the shout of startled surprise behind him before he got up and started running over the tin.

Coulson found the floor Barton's room was on and walked quietly down the hall. He wanted to surprise the assassin, and was hoping that after the run-in at the store he wouldn't be at the top of his game due to his injuries. Coulson was basing that assumption on the fact the Hawk hadn't seen him and Harrison hiding in the garden when he exited the store; given some of the hits that had been attributed to him Phil had been worried he would see them, he hadn't which gave Phil an angle to play. This place was cramped and musty; a single bathroom stood at the end of the hall and the door to it was swinging open showing Phil it was empty. Phil slowly approached the door to the assassin's room (he had his ways of finding out information) making as little noise as possible and found it was closed. He paused and listened for a moment but heard nothing from inside. Making a quick decision Coulson suddenly kicked in the door, the force sent the door flying off its hinges to crash into the room and then he cocked his gun, ready to take out anyone in the room, confidant that he had the element of surprise on his side.

Instead he saw a small figure exiting through a window that looked onto the building behind. The figure looked back at him and they locked eyes for a moment as time seemed to stand still, then Barton was through the window and sliding down the roof. Like that the spell was broken and Coulson cursed loudly and activated his comm.

"Coulson to all agents, target escaped through a window not guarded. I repeat, target escaped and is armed. Target is currently heading west using the rooftops. Follow him. Secrecy is gone so use any means necessary to take him out."

Coulson heard two 'copy's' before starting down the stairs to the ground floor. He had just started running in the direction Hawkeye had gone when Harrison reported he had lost him two blocks away. Boyd radioed in seconds afterwards with the same news. Coulson took a shortcut down an alleyway, ending up in the street a block ahead of the one Harrison was in. Seeing a water tank at the end which was higher than most of the roofs around here and had an access ladder on the outside Coulson had an idea and quickly climbed it, looking back over the roofs the way he'd come. It took him a few moments to spot Hawkeye, and grabbing his rifle (which he'd taken out of the car) from his back he positioned it and was about to take the shot, when he paused and looked again.

Hawkeye was jumping, running, climbing, sliding, dodging, somersaulting, and cart wheeling over the rooftops, Coulson had never seen anything like it. It was like parkour, but unlike any parkour Coulson had ever seen. Never once losing his balance or coming out of rhythm despite the poor light and his injuries, the small black clad figure with the bow and quiver stuck to his chosen path and moved faster than the agents on the street could. No wonder they'd lost him. He was jumping between roofs like he had wings and using everything available to his advantage, totally manipulating the environment to do whatever he wanted. The result was nothing short of breathtaking.

Coulson was almost two blocks away, and even from that distance he could see the grace in the archer's movements without needing to look through the scope of his rifle. He moved as gracefully and lithely as a cat, always landing on his feet and going at a speed that Coulson had thought would be beyond the human capability in that environment. Once again, he wondered if the assassin was fully human.

Phil had the shot lined up in a couple of seconds but as he pulled the trigger the black clad figure faulted for a second and stumbled on the roof, meaning the shot missed its mark completely and pinged onto the roof near the assassin's legs. Phil cursed as he saw Barton start and look at the bullet for a split second before his eyes swivelled around and came to rest unerringly on Coulson; in spite of the distance between them Phil could feel the intensity of the gaze.

Too late he lined up the rifle again and pulled the trigger, but the Hawk was alerted now and already on the move, all Phil managed to do was shoot him in his left leg before his target disappeared over the side of a building where Coulson couldn't see him. Coulson swiftly spoke to the other two agents.

"Target is now shot in the leg and on the ground two blocks from current location on top of the tank. Move in and eliminate!"

Phil quickly climbed down from his vantage point and ran the length of the street he was in to arrive where Barton had fallen off the roof, but when he got to where Hawkeye should be the target was gone. Phil did a double take and quickly looked around but saw no one, the only thing to suggest his target had been here were the few drops of blood on the ground.

Phil couldn't do anything but blink as he stood there trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

Hawkeye had fallen off the roof and it was at least two stories to the ground. The fall alone would have killed most people or at least severely injured them with the state Hawkeye had been in prior to that, yet he was gone. Just then his comm crackled to life and Harrison spoke.

"Coulson, do you copy? I can't see anyone. Negative with eyes on target. Be at your location in twenty seconds."

Boyd jogged up to where Coulson was kneeling down examining where Hawkeye had obviously fallen. Coulson looked up at him hopefully.

"Did you see him?"

"Negative sir, the target is gone. What happened in there Phil? I though you said that building had no back windows."

Phil sighed in frustration as Harrison jogged up to join them. Straightening up from where he was crouched on the ground Phil addressed his two agents.

"The buildings like that one that I've been in before didn't have back windows but I should have checked regardless as this one turned out to be an exception. He was fast and somehow knew that I was coming, by the time I realised what was happening he was already out the window and on the move."

Harrison looked at where Phil had been kneeling and frowned.

"Okay, that was unfortunate. What happened here?"

"He somehow managed to survive a fall to the ground from the roof that would have at least injured most people and got away with a bullet in his leg. Fan out and look around, he can't have gone far on foot with his injuries and given what we've seen so far I don't think he had back up."

Both men nodded and the three of them spread out, covering the streets and alleys for three blocks in all directions, in spite of being very thorough their search found exactly nothing. After searching for a couple of hours Phil eventually called them off, slightly annoyed that they'd lost their Hawk. Even more annoyed that the archer had somehow outwitted him and gotten away when he shouldn't have been able to move.

It looked like the bird had flown, literally, as after watching the display on the roof Coulson couldn't help wondering if this archer was actually part bird, some crazy human-bird hybrid. He certainly possessed some rather unusual and unique abilities.

Clint was concentrating so hard on keeping his footing and not fainting from the concussion that he didn't see the nail sticking out of the roof until he'd snubbed his toe on it, the resulting pain was enough that he gasped and stumbled, going down to his knees as the pain shot up his right leg. He was completely unprepared for the bullet that whizzed past right where his body had been a second before and pinged on the roof next to him. He stared at the spot for a moment before looking for the shooter, he easily found him as given the angle of the shot there was only a couple of spots he could be.

He spotted the man in the suit easily enough due to his marvellous eyesight, it was the same man from the apartment and he had a sniper rifle trained on him, not good news. Right now the best thing he could do was get off the roof and disappear.

Clint darted towards the edge of the roof but before he got there his left leg suddenly exploded with pain, causing him to stumble, lose his balance and fall headfirst over the side of the roof. He managed to grab hold of the metal drain pipe on his way down which enabled him to break his fall somewhat, though it cut up his hands pretty bad in the process it at least meant he landed feet first.

Clint didn't hit the ground gently and gasped quietly in pain as every bone in his body seemed to protest his landing. Taking a second to catch his breath Clint looked down at the blood seeping through the material of his trousers, unfortunately he'd been shot enough times to know what a bullet felt like and that Suit had managed a good hit, every movement his leg made was agonising but he didn't think the bullet had hit anything vital. Still it would make this whole thing harder as he couldn't run very fast or far in the state he was in without passing out or getting caught.

Clint got up; steadying himself with a hand on the wall he managed to mostly ignore the pain from his injuries as he looked desperately around for a way out of his current predicament. Either luck was on his side or the universe took pity on him for once because he saw a garbage bin a few metres away. Running as fast as he could he managed to get to it, lift the lid, climbed in and then close it before the mysterious gunman caught up to him. Clint lay there amongst the rubbish trying not to breathe in the smell and hoping they wouldn't hear his rapid heartbeat as he listened to the men's conversation, not that they said anything particularly useful.

He stayed there for hours. He wasn't too sure he didn't pass out at some point during that time; it wasn't until it was light outside and no one had found him that he was sure they had given up the chase and felt safe enough to come out and disappear. He knew he had to finish this job and get out of the country as soon as he could now, that was his top priority. The best thing he could do was to put as much distance between him and these people as possible.

"Coulson, looks like our bird has flown the coop."

Phil scowled at the bird analogy but joined Boyd to watch the news report of a successful and wealthy businessman having been shot dead with an arrow early that morning, two days after they'd lost their assassin. Phil was still fretting over that last point and blaming himself for their failure to complete the mission.

"He made the shot, he got out clean, and we haven't had the camera scans pick up anything since. He's in the wind again. What's the plan now boss? We've already been here almost a week."

Both Boyd and Harrison looked at Phil who sighed as he ran his hand through his short hair. He'd just gotten off the phone from speaking with a very pissed off Director Fury, and was feeling like a piece of well-chewed chewing gum.

"We go home. The Director's decided we're wasting our time here and has ordered us all back to the states within the next twenty-four hours. So start packing boys. We leave for the airport in two."

They were already mostly packed, so were ready to go before the two hours were up. All felt disappointment at their failure, but Phil felt something else as well. He'd had plenty of time to think things over since his run in with Barton and despite everything he knew about the assassin he still couldn't shake the desperation he'd seen in Barton's eyes just before the man had disappeared out the window out of his head. That, coupled with all he'd witnessed the archer do up until the time he'd disappeared, made Phil start to have doubts that eliminating this assassin was the best course of action to take.

End of chapter 7

The scene of Clint's acrobatics on the rooftops was inspired by a scene of an archer doing a much the same thing in The Wolverine.

You didn't really think I'd have Phil kill Clint did you? Come on, that wouldn't be much of an origin story! Sure, he tried to and managed to shoot him but Clint is simply that good at running away. I hope that you will join us next week for our next chapter;

Chapter 8: Budapest

Yes, Budapest. I am saying no more except that reviews are greatly appreciated and I PM if you are signed in to comment!