AN: So, I've discovered an important fact: I've always known things that affect my writing – when I was still a gamer, if I was totally wrapped up in that, my fanfic writing usually fell to shit. But also, when I am happy in a healthy relationship, I also don't write much fanfic LOL.
Lucky you, Constant Readers! It has taken a year to recover from the fallout from that relationship, but here I go again, off in my fantasy world, because if I can't have a happy ending IRL, at least I can write an ending I like better for someone else ;)
Quick notes for this chapter: italics later on signify that they are speaking Russian. "Bratov" means brother in Russian. SVR is the name for the current Russian intelligence agency, what the KGB evolved into when the USSR broke apart.
"So, fill me in on the op." Clint locked away all the messy thoughts of home as he focused on the task at hand: ensuring Natasha's safety from the Russians.
"The man I saw was peripherally involved with the Red Room. I'm sure he's an SVR agent now." She paused, pushing away the flashback to finding Clint on the roof. "I didn't get a chance to ID the backup." She gave Clint half a smirk. "I was distracted. The body was gone when the team went back for clean up."
Clint rolled his eyes at her blaming him for bleeding to death. "Ok, so do you think they were there for you or someone else at the party?"
"I think honestly, that your mission was mixed up in theirs, and it was bad luck. SVR and the Red Room haven't tried to bring me in since that time in Seville." A pleased smile comes to her face. The mission may have sucked, but she did get to kill a lot of men who wanted to do bad things to her, which always made her happy.
"Ok, so incidental contact, but why concerns from Fury now and a mole?" And of course, how do they solve it, preferably without the amount of trouble they had in Seville.
"I've been doing some reading." Hawkeye coughed as she said that. That usually involved her breaking into some computer system she wasn't allowed to be in. "I think the handler for the team was someone who used to be heavily involved in my training." her voice hardened just enough to tell Clint what he needed to know about his involvement. Surprisingly her hand came to his before he could even consider reaching for her, clearly it was very difficult for her. Nat held his hand tightly as she continued, though she would not look at him. "His name is Maksim Aliyev. He liked me to call him Bratov Maksim." The last was almost an afterthought.
Clint's jaw tightened, knowing the kind of sick things that this 'brother' likely did to her. "Ok. Do we need intel from him first?" Not killing him wasn't even a consideration for Clint, it was just the details and how long they could take doing it.
"We may need to keep him alive." The thought disgusted her as much as it angered her partner.
"Remind me why that could ever be true?"
"Because if Russian officials decide that I am a threat to them directly, and that I might be coming after those who worked in the Red Room, it will just make everything a bigger pain in the ass." Natasha wasn't thrilled with it, but it was the only thing that kept her from decimating the entire leadership of Russia and several other former USSR nations.
"That's a fight I'm willing to have." Geopolitics be damned, Clint just wanted to kill every single person who was involved with not only what was done to Natasha, but to all the other girls like her. "I think I brought enough arrows." While he kept the tone his light deadpan, she knew that there was part of him that wanted to hunt them all down and kill them.
"Clint." She sighed. "You know we shouldn't. We're busy enough as it is." That was finally enough to break the tension, and they both were able to chuckle. After it settled. "I just am going to talk to him. And I need someone I can trust as backup if things go badly, who can make sure I get out, no matter what."
Clint knew what that meant; if they captured her, she wanted him to be her cyanide pill; he knew it would never need to be used though. "We will leave together, like always." He grinned and they started planning the details.
As operations went, this one was really very banal to the outside observer. Maksim Aliyev got into his scheduled car as he exited from the theatre in Tbilisi, Georgia where he was currently based. The driver helped both people into the car and then sped off.
The partition was up between the front and back sections, and so it was fairly easy to gas the back occupants, if not into total unconsciousness, at least making it significantly easier to subdue them. Natasha traded places with the woman, placing her carefully in the trunk after injecting her with versed, a sedative with the side effect of amnesia during the duration of action.
"We'll have about 2 hours without re-dosing her," Clint said as he came back to the driver's seat to keep the car moving as Natasha spoke to Maksim.
"You did put her in restraints the way I taught, right?" While their intelligence said that the theater companion was not in intelligence, Natasha remembered that Clint's intelligence on her was incorrect as well. If the woman was nothing more than arm candy, she will think she drank too much and passed out. If she was some sort of operative, hopefully the more complex method of restraint should prevent her from participating. Clint gave a grunt in the affirmative as he restarted the car and began the first circuit of the city.
"Brother Maksim and I won't need that long, I hope." Natasha switched to Russian as she turned to her one time tormentor, now restrained himself in the seat, still feeling some after-effects of the gas.
Maksim leered at her. "I missed you, little one. Those little legs, that mou-" he was cut off as the car slammed to a stop and he pitched forward, hitting his head on the bar in front of him.
"Sorry, chicken crossing the road." Clint called back. Natasha would not acknowledge her amusement openly on her face, but internally, she was smiling at Clint's way of showing displeasure.
"We seem to have a bit of a problem here, Maksim." Natasha kept her voice even and pleasant. "I have heard you have been looking into me and my work in America."
"You are Russian!" Maksim spoke with thinly veiled disgust. "All that we did for you and the other girls, and then you are opposing us in missions?" An unexpectedly sharp left turn banged him into the window.
"Stupid GPS!" Barton made a show of hitting the side of the phone, like he had almost missed the turn.
Maksim swore at Clint, but kept his focus on Natasha. "You killed one of my agents, interfered with an important mission, and you expect us to just ignore that?"
"Honestly? Yes. Ignore that it is me, if you value your life." Natasha was rather matter-of-fact. On the bright side, that aborted op wasn't a total failure now. She knew who Barton's target was going to meet with at the party. A cold smile came to her lips. "And if you do not value your life enough, I am sure there are parts of your body that you could place more value on."
"You would start a war. I doubt your new government would be very happy with you for that." Despite his attempts to maintain an air of control and calm, she could see little pinpricks of sweat start to pop up on his forehead.
She gave her former torturer a beatific smile, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. "Do you really think I care, or I would need their support? I am with the Americans because it suits me, not because I have to be. I will decimate both governments if I must in order to make you and your brothers pay." She leaned back to her previous position. "You taught me well. I can use those skills however I wish now."
The man in front of her paused, concerned by the hint of hope of destruction in her eyes, the hope that she can raze all the men to the ground. "We should have put a failsafe in you," Maksim said in anger.
"Hindsight is 20/20." Part of her itched to just kill him right there. He was still trying to think of how to create girls like her in a more efficient way. There was no redeeming him.
Clint seemed to sense that she was struggling to not just slit his throat. "One testicle," he called back over his shoulder.
Natasha knew immediately what he meant and smiled, it getting wider while she watched Maksim's face at he made a reasonable guess as to the implication. "If I do the full treatment, it really is a kindness to all women." She wrinkled her nose as a thought occurred to her. "Only problem is that I would have to touch it again."
Clint didn't argue for or against castrating the man fully. Most of him wanted the man dead, part of him would have been happy to castrate the asshole himself, but he knew that Natasha needed to make this call. He just wanted to try and keep her from killing him outright if possible, if there was going to be any further risk to her from it. "Dealer's choice. You know I support it."
"Do you need further convincing of how serious I am about this? How much it is in your best interest to withdraw any and all assets monitoring me, anything to do with me and let me continue without interference?" Natasha asked him pleasantly.
Maksim struggled; he knew she was serious and capable of doing everything she said. He had helped make sure that was true. But it galled him so much that she was out of his reach and control. "I do not need further convincing," he said through gritted teeth.
"Excellent. I expect to see the confessions for your SHIELD assets - yes I know there is more than one - on the Director's desk by the time I return. If they are not there," she leaned in and whispered in a voice too low for Clint to hear, but he could see Maksim visibly pale as Natasha described in detail the consequences for not following directions. He knew she was hiding it to shield his view of her, but he wouldn't judge her on anything she could say in this situation.
She finished her threat, smiled at him again. "Thank you for your cooperation." She brushed a non-existent piece of lint from his lapel. "You will have approximately 8 hours. Please do tell your assets that if they do not confess, their fates will be tied to those who are aligned to the Red Room."
"Fine." Despite being a seasoned agent himself, Maksim was shaken. He knew she was capable of carrying through on everything she said.
The car came to a stop. "Don't forget to tell your friends. Anyone at all from Russia, the SVR, the Red Room or any incarnation of such bothers, threatens or investigates me or anyone associated with me, there will be no further warning." And with that, Natasha and Clint exited the car to a waiting motorcycle and took off, leaving the woman drugged and bound in the trunk, and Maksim bound in the back seat.
They sped away, Natasha behind Clint, resting her head on his back, her adrenaline starting to come down. It didn't take long to get to the airfield where they left the quinjet – Clint had planned all the routes and he was nothing if not precise at such things.
They reboarded and Clint looked over at her. "You ok?"
"Honestly? Not entirely sure. I think it worked." A slight frown as she looked at him. "You know I will have to follow through on it though, if he doesn't do it."
Clint pulled her into a hug. "I do. And I'll be there with you for that. Don't worry." They stayed, standing in their embrace for a period of time before breaking apart and going to the console to start the journey home. "HQ?"
"Yeah, but then you need to go home and talk to Laura." As much as she didn't really want him to do it, she knew it had to be done. Clint nodded and they headed off.
Two hours later, Nick Fury was taking three SHIELD employees into custody for being compromised, after they confessed to leaking information about Natasha Romanoff to Russian operatives.