Clint sat outside the warehouse on his motorcycle. Pulling his helmet off, he scrubbed a hand through his hair. He couldn't believe he'd done that to Phil, he'd just lost it for a second and the next thing he knew his handler was underneath him looking a little worried. Clint also knew that Coulson wouldn't hold it against him, the man never did. But the younger agent knew he'd crossed a line, Phil was only trying to protect him as always.
The archer swung his leg around and got off the bike, glancing at the empty building, his eyes scanning the area for any threats. He could see why the assassin had picked this place; it was out of the way and looked ready to collapse. Walking stealthily to the side door, Clint entered and used his near perfect eyesight to scan the rest of the building. He spotted the crime scene tape at the far end and moved cautiously towards it.
The young assassin hadn't wanted to say anything to Phil but he was getting a twisted sense of deja vu with this killer, even though he knew for a fact he'd never been sent after anyone like this guy. The Reaper, Clint shook his head at the name and crouched down next to the dried blood that covered a large portion of the concrete floor. This is where he tortured the poor girl, her name was Laura Griffin; she was only twenty-three. Barton stood and walked around looking for any other clue that the killer might have left, he seemed like the type to show off. Just as he was about to give up, Clint's eyes spotted something in the far corner, wedged under one of the crates. Lifting the empty crate easily, the archer picked up the object and held it in his hand. It was a silver coin, quite old from the looks of it and it had an emblem on the back which looked eerily similar to the symbol the Reaper had put on the wall.
He frowned as he stared at the coin, it felt like he'd seen it before, but that couldn't be right. Clint racked his brain trying to think where he'd seen it, but it just wasn't coming to him. He slid the coin into his pocket and walked swiftly out of the warehouse, time to check where the victim had gone missing from.
Hawkeye put on his black helmet and swung his leg over the black Ducati. He grinned when he revved her and sped off round the corner. Riding his motorbike was almost as good as leaping across rooftops, it made him feel relaxed. Which was exactly what he needed right now. The ride was far too brief for his liking, taking a mere five minutes to get to the club, granted if he obeyed the speed limit, it would have been a twenty minute journey. He climbed off the bike and headed towards the entrance. Flashing his fake badge at the bouncers, he only used it in these types of situations and was given entry. He noticed a few girls were waiting outside in the line were giving him appraising looks. Smiling to himself he made his way to the bar, still got it, he chuckled and headed for the bartender, they were the best people to find out information from.
Clint sipped on his third beer as the bartender filled him in on everything he remembered from the night before. The man had been more than happy to share what he saw when Clint slipped a twenty dollar bill across the counter. "The guy was just slightly taller than you mate, dark hair, looked pretty normal to me. He chatted to that girl for about ten minutes before they left together."
The young agent nodded. "Did he say anything to you?" The bartender shook his head. "If he came in here again would you recognise him?"
"Yeah definitely."
The Hawk downed the last half of his beer and slid a card across the counter. "If you see him again, give me a call. Don't try to take this guy on yourself."
The man nodded in agreement. "You got it."
"Thanks." Clint slid off the stool and headed towards the facilities. He wasn't really a big drinker; losing your parents to a drunk driver will do that to you.
The men's room was empty when he entered and Clint found himself rushing to finish and wash his hands. Whoever had been in there last, really needed to get themselves checked. He'd just finished drying his hands when he heard someone enter, and when he turned around, Clint found himself face to face with an angry looking man, Barton tried to remember pissing anyone off lately but nothing came to mind.
"Can I help you? Or do you always look so cheery?"
Clint dodged the fist that was aimed for his head and threw one of his own. It connected solidly with the man's jaw, but the man looked nothing more than surprised rather than hurt. The archer easily dodged the next few punches which seemed to annoy the bigger man. Clint was more than amused as the man charged at him, the young agent spun out of the way at the last second, watching the man run head first into the tiled wall. Chuckling he turned to leave and was shocked to find another man standing right there, the guy's fist already smashing into his face before he could react. The archer stumbled back into the wall, banging his head in the process. He was mentally kicking himself, it might only have been three beers but Clint wasn't used to drinking and it was affecting his abilities.
The second man punched him in the stomach and Barton was sinking to his knees by the second hit. Damn this guy had fists of steel. Clint managed to block the next hit aimed at his head, but the knee to his face had him spitting up blood. What the fuck?
The archer really didn't have a clue what he'd done to deserve this, maybe he looked at the guy wrong, sometimes that was all it took for Clint to find trouble. He raised his hands to defend himself and frowned when the man was suddenly being dragged away from him. His eyes flicked to the first guy who was still lying unconscious on the floor.
"I take it trouble follows you wherever you go Clint?"
The young agents head snapped up at hearing that voice and he couldn't help but sigh in relief. "Lucas?"
Lucas chuckled and pulled the younger man into a standing position. "Yeah kid, it's me. I thought you only got your ass kicked in prison, seems I was mistaken."
Clint laughed and wiped the blood from his busted lip. "Yeah, sadly I can piss a lot of people off when I'm not even trying. It's a gift."
Lucas made sure the kid could stand without help and opened the door to exit the men's room.
"It's good to see you kid. I was kind of hoping to bump into you at some point... say thanks and all that."
Barton shook his head. "You don't have to thank me Lucas, you saved my life in there." He frowned at the taller man. "How come you're out already?"
Lucas squeezed the kid's shoulder. "It seems I might have your friend to thank for that then. I thought it was you."
Clint looked pleased as he thought of the strings Phil was always pulling for him. "Phil. He's the one with the connections."
"Well, tell him thanks."
"I will. What are you doing here?" Clint asked as they made their way outside.
Lucas placed a hand on Clint shoulder. "I live just down the street, this is my usual."
Clint frowned. "Did you hear about what happened? The girl that was here last night?"
"Yeah. Why?" The bigger man shook his head. "You're after that guy, the one that did it?"
Barton nodded. He swung his leg over the bike and held the helmet in his hands.
"Be careful, Clint. This guy is dangerous."
"Danger's my middle name." Clint beamed and put his helmet on.
Lucas chuckled, "Really I thought it was Francis?"
The young agent's eyes widened in shock. "How the hell did you know that?"
"I can't reveal my sources." He deadpanned and took a moment to admire the motorbike. "Very nice."
The archer nodded back and revved the engine. "I need to get back. There's something I need to check out. Where can I find you?"
Lucas stepped forward and handed the younger man a card. "That's my number, just give me a shout kid. We need to catch up."
Clint nodded and snapped the visor down and gave the other man a half salute. Speeding off down the street, he took the turn that would take him to the first location the Reaper had left a body. He was going to check each of the locations for more clues, hopefully the other assassin had decided to leave something at each of the scenes. Clint was getting a terrible feeling that he knew who this guy was, he just wasn't sure why.
Pulling up outside the first building, the archer pulled his helmet off and moved silently to the side of the building, using the fire escape to get to the third floor, he pried the nearest window open and climbed in. It seemed the Reaper liked to use abandoned buildings or warehouses for his torture sessions. Clint checked every nook and cranny for a sign, something that might jog his memory about this guy.
His eyes narrowed when he spotted something in the corner. Man the clean-up crews really needed to get their eyes tested. He bent down and picked up the object, frowning when he realised it was another coin. Clint wasn't sure what it meant but he knew the Reaper was leaving tokens, and was positive if he went to each of the crime scenes he would find more of these coins.
Just as he was about to leave, his phone started to vibrate. Putting the coin in his pocket along with the other, he pulled his phone out and flipped it open.
"Barton."
"Clint, where the hell are you?" Came his handler's agitated voice. There was a hint of concern hidden under the anger that assaulted his ear.
"I told you, checking out the crime scenes. I found something Phil, he's leaving gifts."
Phil was silent for a moment. "What kind of gifts?"
Clint shook his head in amusement, his handler was way too professional to stay mad at him. "It's silver coins with what looks like the same symbol he drew on the wall; the one that means 'death'."
"Good work Clint, now I know it's a long shot but if you bring the coins back we can check for fingerprints. You never know he might have gotten sloppy."
The archer grinned. "That was the plan, I'm just going to check the other locations then head back."
"Alright, just…be careful."
"Always Phil." Clint was about to hang up when he realised he needed to say it, "I'm sorry, Phil."
"It's forgotten, just get your ass back here in one piece, you hear me?" Coulson still sounded worried but there was a hint of pride in his voice.
"Yes sir!" He snapped the phone shut and made his way back down the fire escape. Time to check out those other locations; he'd be back in time for dinner.