Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any of the characters in the story except Le Roux and his henchmen. If I did, there would totally be a Hawkeye/Black Widow movie in the works.
Author's Note: While I embrace constructive criticism remember this old saying if you choose to leave a review "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all"
Again, special shout out to TuningMyViola who helped me out with information on South Africa including telling me about the geography and acting as my super awesome translator! She is super helpful and awesome and kept me (hopefully) from making a fool of my self :)
Thanks to all reviewers and readers!
Enjoy!
Last Time:
All it took was one of the men putting a gun to Clint's head for Tony to put his hands up in surrender, suddenly understanding with scary clarity why Clint hated South Africa.
I think we may safely trust a good deal more than we do. -Henry David Thoreau
It didn't take them long once Tony had surrendered, even sliding back his helmet for good measure, for the group of men holding them at gunpoint to contact someone with a radio in one of their trucks.
"Mnr. Le Roux, ons het vir Mnr Stark in hegtenis." (Mr. Le Roux, we have Mr. Stark in custody.) The large white man spoke into the radio in a language Tony didn't know. He recognized Le Roux's name though, and his own. The man was talking about Tony, but he was eyeing Clint with obvious apprehension. He even took a step backwards when Clint started to stir.
Tony arched an eyebrow. That was interesting.
"En Agent Barton?" (And Agent Barton?) The disembodied voice of Ricardo Le Roux replied in the same language.
Tony thought this moment was rather epic, hearing the man's voice for the first time. He sounded inexplicably normal.
"Ons het hom onderworpe." (We have him subdued.) The man quickly directed two of his men to zip tie Clint's hands behind his back as the archer started to come back to awareness. They pulled the dazed man up by his arms so he was on his knees next to Tony.
"Baie goed gedoen, Johan." (Very well done, Johan.) Le Roux praised. "Bring hulle in, en maak seker dat Barton se oë gedek is." (Bring them...and make sure Barton's eyes are covered.)
It struck Tony, as they were tying a thick strip of cloth around Clint's eyes, how wrong this situation was. A man, whose greatest asset was his eyes, was now rendered blind. Clint, who in the short time Tony had known him had proved he was cowed by no man, was on his knees as if he was somehow less than the rest of them. Tony himself was wearing the very suit that had made him a hero, yet he couldn't use it because someone had betrayed them. Now they had to let themselves be captured just so they could complete their mission.
It was the very embodiment of the phrase "the shit hit the fan."
Tony knew the exact moment Clint returned to awareness. He knew because the archer tensed so suddenly that the two men holding him flinched. He could almost see the archer's mind racing to figure out why he was bound and blindfolded. When it all clicked into place, Clint's shoulders relaxed, if only minutely and he cocked his head a little.
He's listening for something. Tony realized. Then it hit him. Barton had been knocked out before the fight had ended. He was making sure Tony was still there.
Does he really think I'd just leave him? Tony wondered, not sure if he was more offended or more hurt.
"So why all the subterfuge?" Tony spoke up suddenly, eyeing Johan, who appeared to be the one in charge. He saw Clint's shoulder's relax a little more. "Why not just kill us?"
"Mr. Le Roux has need of your skills." Johan replied in a thick accent. "If you will please remove the Iron Man uniform." He ordered, motioning at the men holding Clint. There was suddenly a gun pressing into the assassin's temple. Clint didn't flinch or react in any visible way. As if a gun against his temple was just an everyday occurrence that shouldn't cause any sort of discomfort or concern.
"It's a suit." Tony corrected, though he obediently started the removal process. Once he was freed and the suit returned to its case form, one of the men snatched it from him and handed it to Johan.
"Bring hulle." Johan ordered his men as he turned and strode out of the building.
Tony tried not to flinch as the truck started moving. He had been forced at gunpoint into the bed of a green truck with large off roading tires and a canopy covering the bed. Clint had been literally thrown in after him. Three men climbed in with them, blocking the only exit point, which was over the tailgate.
"Has anybody other than the leader spoken English?" Clint questioned quietly, from where Tony had helped him sit against the side of the truck.
"Not that I've heard." Tony replied, easing down next to him, so they could whisper without being overheard.
"He gave their orders in Afrikaans so I don't think many, if any, of the foot soldiers speak anything else."
"You could understand them?" Tony asked, not knowing why he was surprised.
"I have an ear for languages." Clint shrugged.
"How many do you know?" Tony questioned curiously. Barton was just full of surprises.
"Several...but that's really not important right now." Clint muttered, cocking his head when the vehicle turned.
"Just curious." Tony defended.
"Could you estimate how fast we're going?" Clint asked suddenly. "I can't see, so..." He looked at Tony unerringly. The fact that he couldn't see, made it a tad disconcerting. Not that Tony would admit it...ever.
Tony looked over the guards' heads at the passing scenery, calculating in his head.
"About 30 miles per hour...why?"
"Let me know if it changes." Clint demanded.
"Ooookay." Tony frowned. It was an odd request that he didn't entirely understand. But Clint was an odd man that he didn't entirely understand, so it didn't mean much.
It wasn't until he heard Clint repeating something over and over to himself that he started to get it.
"2 mikes then left...30mph...2 mikes then left...30mph...2 mikes then left..."
Tony blinked. No way. The mantra changed at the next turn and Tony was certain.
"2 mikes then left...30mph...3.5 mikes then right...accelerated back to..." he looked to where he knew Tony was.
"20 miles per hour." He supplied. Clint's eyebrows rose.
"Why are they slowing down?" Clint wondered a moment before the road beneath them changed texture. His eyebrows dropped as if it was suddenly all clear. "2 mikes then left...30mph...3.5 mikes then right...20mph...1 mike then bridge for..." he waited until the road changed back, ".75 mikes." Then he repeated it, quietly and under his breath so the guards wouldn't realize what he was doing.
Tony hadn't been that impressed with someone other than himself in a long time.
By the time they arrived, Clint's memorized directions had gotten fairly long, but he repeated them flawlessly every time without hesitation. Tony had supplied speed changes as they happened; happy he could help at least in that small way.
Clint nodded to himself as the vehicle slowed to a stop and turned off. Confident he could remember the whole thing when he needed to. He visualized the map in his head, tracking the turns they'd made and the approximate time it had taken and calculating in their approximate speed. It only took him a few moments to get a general idea of where they were. He'd be able to find the coordinates specifically when he got to actually look at a map.
The three guards stood and motioned them to exit the truck after them. Tony nudged Clint, who immediately moved to stand.
"Where are they?"
Tony started at Clint's hissed demand.
"What?"
"Where are the three guards that were with us?"
He replied without asking why Clint needed to know.
"When you exit the truck, 10, 11 and 2 o'clock."
Clint nodded, moving in front of Tony. Stark's eyes widened when he saw the zip tie was gone and Clint's hands were free. It was only that new knowledge that kept him from being surprised when Clint all but flew out of the back of the van, landing on one of the guards' backs. He had the guy's chin in one hand and the back of his head in the other before anybody knew what was happening. Tony cringed at the crunch of bones snapping as the man dropped like a sack of rocks. Clint pushed the dead man away. He ripped his blind fold off even as he dove at the man to his right. A knife, produced out of seemingly thin air, opened the man's throat and then flew into the third guard's neck a moment later.
Tony blinked and Clint had one of their former guard's guns in his hands and leveled at the approaching Le Roux. The assassin wasn't even breathing hard.
"Skiet, en ek belowe jul leier sal dood wees voordat ek die grond tref." Clint snarled at the half a dozen men with guns trained on him and Tony. Tony frowned, unable to understand. (Any of you shoot and I promise your boss will be dead before I hit the ground.)
"Hou julle vuur." (Hold your fire.) Le Roux ordered. "Agent Barton doesn't have a reputation for making promises he can't keep." The arms dealer continued in English. He approached Clint, stopping a few feet away, eying the gun trained on his chest.
"Smart man, Le Roux." Clint's eyes were hard and his expression emotionless. Tony didn't know how he stayed so unreadable even in a stressful situation like this. Tony was sure his own wide eyed awe was written all over his face. "You've heard of me?" Clint's eyebrow twitched a little and the very corner of his mouth turned up.
"Indeed from a mutual acquaintance of ours..."
"Then you know I don't miss…and I could end this all...right here, right now." Clint taunted.
"You could kill me, yes…but how would you escape?" Le Roux glanced around them. "You must know I have more men inside and the moment you fire that gun, you and your friend Mr. Stark will be as good as dead."
"I've survived worse odds." Clint smirked dangerously.
"I believe you have, Agent Barton." Le Roux almost looked impressed. "I'll enjoy beating that confidence out of you."
"Maybe…" Clint inclined his head. "Or maybe I'll kill you and all of your men…if you don't think I can do it…ask our mutual acquaintance, Fourie." He spat the name like it was poison on his tongue.
"He told me you were smart…" Le Roux didn't seem phased that Clint had figured out who he'd been talking about. "And also very dangerous…he called you a demon…and spoke your name with hatred and fear." Le Roux gave Clint an assessing look, and then shrugged dismissively as if he were unimpressed.
"Maybe you should respect the man's experience." Clint advised, shifting his weight subtly as several more men poured out of the larger of the two buildings in the small clearing they were in.
"And maybe you should learn to pick your battles, my friend." Le Roux replied coldly. "Are you really prepared to give your life for this? Are you prepared to give his?" He motioned at Stark.
Clint glared, not daring to look at Tony. He waited an extra beat, until he was sure he'd made his intended impression, then he lowered the rifle and tossed it onto the dead guard at his feet. They were on him in moments; kicking his knees out and slamming him face first into the ground. Metal handcuffs were used this time to secure his hands. He smirked into the dirt. It was amusing that they thought those would be any more difficult for him to get out of. Not that he was intending to. He was trying to appear captured after all.
"Deursoek hom vir wapens, julle idiote!" (Search him for weapons this time, you fools!) Le Roux barked. He waited until Johan nodded that he understood, then he turned abruptly to Tony. "Mr. Stark…my manners escape me...allow me to introduce myself…"
"I know who you are." Tony snapped, watching Clint get hauled to his feet out of the corner of his eye. The one called Johan started roughly searching him for weapons. The sheer number he uncovered was startling, even for Tony.
"Then we can skip the introductions. I have a project…that requires someone of your specific intelligence…"
"Guys like you always do." Tony shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned. "Try singing a different song, Romeo, I've heard this tune before…and it didn't go so well for the last guys." He let himself be pulled out of the truck and searched. He frowned as they took his holoscreen phone.
"Careful, that's one of a kind." He muttered as one of the men pocketed it.
"Yes, I have heard of your past misadventures…I assure you, I am neither as foolish, nor as soft hearted as your previous captors."
"Soft hearted? Those goons may have been idiots but they weren't any picnic…so don't try your fear tactics on me…like I've said…this ain't my first rodeo."
"Why Mr. Stark…you have gotten the wrong impression…I do not mean you any harm." Le Roux put his hand against his own heart as if the very idea offended him.
"Oh no?" Tony scoffed, though he had terrible feeling he knew where this was going.
"No…you are entirely too valuable and I need you in 100% working order…your companion, on the other hand," Le Roux turned to Clint, who met his eyes without flinching. "Is of little consequence…have you ever held someone else's life in your hands, Mr. Stark?"
Tony thought of Yinsen but kept his mouth shut.
"Well then allow me to educate you…the rules are simple…I will harm, Agent Barton…that you cannot avoid…as I believe that the best way to inspire action is to provide proper motivation… however, the extent to which I harm him…is entirely up to you…"
"You expect me to believe you'd let him live if I do what you want? That you'd let me live?" Tony shook his head. "I'm not an idiot."
"I promise you exactly that." Le Roux turned away from his inspection of Clint to regard Tony once again. "And you will find, Mr. Stark, that I am a man of my word…you do what I need you to do and I will allow both you and Agent Barton to walk out of here. The forest is large and by the time you get to help, we will be long gone…besides…" He looked back at Clint, "Agent Barton's name is on another man's bullet."
There was a flash of something dark in Clint's eyes, but Tony didn't know what it was. It was gone before he could dwell on it too long.
"What do you want me to do?" Tony asked, because he didn't know what else to say.
"I will show you." Le Roux smiled a scary kind of smile that chilled Tony to the core. "Bring hulle." (Bring them.)
Tony and Clint were forced into a large concrete room. There were no windows and only one, solid iron door. Tony was pushed to the center of the room and Clint was man handled over to a set of iron shackles suspended from the ceiling by a chain. Two men were in the middle of changing his hands from the handcuffs to the shackles when Clint decided to knock them back on their heels a little.
He solidly elbowed one of the men in the sternum and spun to the other one, chopping his hand into his throat. While the second man gasped for air through his crushed throat, Clint turned again, bringing his boot up into the first man's face. He spun in place and cracked his boot into the side of his head a second later. The man dropped, blood leaking out of his nose, mouth, and ears. The second man's eyes rolled back and he collapsed as well, his body unable to draw in air through his crushed throat.
Le Roux, Tony, and the other three men in the room stared at him.
Tony gaped, desperately wanting to ask what the hell Barton was doing. They were already captured, why was he making such large crazy waves. All he got for it was a bullet to the arm. Either the man shooting wasn't a very good shot, or they didn't want Clint in any real danger, because the graze barely made him flinch. But it did get his attention. Three guns and Le Roux's eyes were trained on him.
"Agent Barton, I have made a promise not to kill you…do not test me." Le Roux practically growled. He motioned his remaining three men forward. One kept a gun on Clint the whole time; the other two secured his wrists and stepped quickly away, pulling their dead comrades out of the room. Clint glared after them, his wrists bound, but hanging in front of him, the chain they were connected to loose with slack. The three men returned and one of them shifted Clint's quiver off his back, fingering one of the arrows curiously. They'd taken his bow and quiver back at the first warehouse. Clint's eyes narrowed as a second man fingered his bow.
Tony tore his eyes away from Clint's stormy countenance as Le Roux addressed him.
"I have managed to procure a weapon with a magnificent source of energy through a very interesting contact in Germany." Le Roux began, walking over to a large gun with a blue glowing cylinder built into it. Tony eyed in curiously. It was definitely HYDRA. He'd studied SHIELD's databases enough to know. But it was an early prototype, not what had been reported used 70 years ago. He was sure Fury would be very interested in how it made it to the black market. Hell, he'd be interested to know how the hell it was still in existence. Tony sure was.
While he was thinking, Le Roux continued.
"This one weapon carries the power to level a mountain."
"So why don't you sell it as is?" Tony questioned.
"Because where one gun would fetch a high price...several guns fetch several high prices." Le Roux smirked, "I need you to create more, using this as a model."
"How am I supposed to replicate that energy source?" Tony demanded. "Maybe in a lab with billions of dollars worth of equipment…but definitely not here." What Tony didn't say, was that there was no way to replicate the energy source. The tesseract HYDRA had used was with Thor in Asgard.
"You misunderstand, Mr. Stark." Le Roux shook his head and smiled as if amused by Tony. The billionaire frowned. He very rarely misunderstood anything.
"How so?"
"I do not expect you to replicate the energy, merely the weapon…and then to find away to tap into the power and distribute it…you see, my buyer does not need to level mountains…he merely needs several weapons that can level something smaller."
"Like a person?" Tony snapped.
Le Roux smiled that scary smile again and Tony resisted the urge to shiver.
"What my clients do with their weapons is none of my concern."
"Is that how you sleep at night?" Tony replied angrily.
"Neem daardie weg van my gesig af, of ek sit dit deur jou hart." Clint growled suddenly, drawing both of their attention abruptly. (Get that away from my face, or I'll put it through your heart.)
The man with his quiver had moved over to him and was lightly tracing the point of one of Clint's arrows across the archer's cheek. The man laughed, saying something in Afrikaans to his friend with Clint' bow. He turned back to Clint and sliced the arrow tip across his cheek, drawing blood.
What happened next, Tony would be in awe of for the rest of his life.
In a move almost faster than he could follow, Clint threw his forehead into his antagonizer's nose. While the man was still reeling from that, Clint raised his hands and snatched the arrow away. In nearly the same moment, he brought his knee up into the guard's groin. The man doubled and Clint kneed him again, this time in the chest, forcing him to straighten with the momentum of the blow. Then he flipped the arrow in his hand and stabbed it into the man's chest, directly in the heart. The man dropped like a brick, dead before he hit the ground. Clint showed his palms in the next moment, demonstrating he had no more weapons.
The entire room was silent in shock.
"I may not speak the language," Tony shrugged with a smirk, breaking the spell. "But something tells me he warned him."
"Julle idiote! Ek het julle gewaarsku!" (You fools! I warned you of him!) Le Roux snapped, "Maak hom vas!" (Secure him!)
One of the other men ran to the wall and turned a crank against it. The chain slowly started to tighten as the crank pulled in the slack, eventually forcing Clint's arms above his head. The man locked the crank into place, leaving Clint's boots barely brushing the concrete floor. Several men struggled to pull the dead man out of the room. The guard who had cranked the chain stalked over to Clint and drove his fist into the archer's exposed stomach. In response, Clint pulled himself up with his arms and wrapped his legs around the man's thick neck. A sharp twist of his body later and the man crumbled, neck broken.
The final guard flipped his rifle in his hands and swung the stock hard at the archer's side, wisely staying out of his immediate reach. Clint's body tensed against the blow, and the one that followed. Two more sharp attacks at his ribs, and the guard was brave enough to venture closer and slam his gun into Clint's temple, knocking him out.
Tony stared, slack jawed, as Clint hung limply on the chains.
"Well done, René." Le Roux praised, taking a moment to compose himself. He turned back to Tony. "Get to work, Mr. Stark…and I warn you, my next visit will not be so pleasant."
He threw one more wary look at Clint and then stormed out. René followed taking Clint's weapons with him. The door slammed and locked behind them.
Tony blinked, his mind falling backwards to a similar circumstance several years ago. He'd become Iron Man after that ordeal, but it was not something he ever wanted to repeat, no matter the outcome. It had been terrifying 99% of the time and the man he had with him then hadn't made it out. He couldn't afford that result this time. He didn't want to escape if Clint wasn't with him. The Russian spitfire would gut him if he did.
Slowly, and because he didn't know what else to do, Tony moved over to the gun. It had been disabled, and Tony knew without trying that it wouldn't fire. He glanced briefly over his shoulder at Clint, who continued to hang limply, his chin on his chest. He didn't know if it was better or worse that Le Roux didn't intend to kill Clint. Of course, if Clint kept killing Le Roux's men at every tune, Le Roux might go back on that promise.
Tony was at least marginally comforted that he wasn't the only one the archer antagonized on purpose. Although, he was considerably less volatile than Le Roux. Clint didn't seem to care about that.
"Stark."
Tony jumped, his dark eyes flying to Clint, who was staring at him intensely. Tony got the distinct feeling it hadn't been the first time the archer had called his name.
"You're awake." Tony observed, uncharacteristically subdued.
"Is it HYDRA's?" Clint demanded.
Tony held up the gun, revealing the skull and tentacles that was the Nazi group's symbol.
"Dammit." Clint sighed.
"Why did you do that?" Tony asked suddenly.
"What?" Clint grunted as he tried to shift, stretching his toes to the ground to try and take some pressure off his shoulders.
"Kill his men at every turn…I mean I thought your whole plan was to let yourself get captured…but ever since they got us, you've seemed to be attempting to escape every time the slimmest opportunity presents itself." Tony frowned at him.
"Not escape…just thinning the herd…I'd rather not have to face an entire army when the time comes."
"And the two guys just now? All that got you was a nice trip to never never land." Tony shot back.
"To show them not to fuck with me." Clint replied firmly. "Besides," Clint sniffed, "I don't like it when people touch my gear."
"But still...are you trying to piss of Le Roux enough to kill you?"
"He's not going to kill me." Clint assured, "Not with Fourie on his radar." He shrugged, "Besides...now his men are scared to get too close…I can use that." Clint replied unruffled.
"Use it when?"
"To escape…and then kill every last one of them."
Tony frowned thoughtfully. It made a morbid kind of sense, he supposed.
"How exactly do you plan on escaping?"
"The opportunity will come." Clint replied confidently. "It always does."
"Oh so you've done this before." Tony deadpanned.
"Yes actually…it's actually Tasha's go to plan…getting captured is the quickest way to lull people into a false sense of security…I've borrowed it from her playbook from time to time."
"I suppose it was at least somewhat successful…given you and the Russian time bomb are still alive."
"We just need to bide our time." Clint assured. "And you need to look like you're doing what they want, without actually doing it."
"You make it sound so easy."
"You're a smart guy, I'm sure you'll think of something." Clint smirked.
Tony was quiet for a moment, fingering the HYDRA symbol on the weapon.
"I thought you said all of HYDRA's technology was destroyed." He picked up the gun and carried it over to Clint. The archer eyed in critically.
"It's an old prototype...from what I know about HYDRA they didn't use it for long before they developed something better, more controlled...I didn't know any of those still existed."
"Unlucky for us...Le Roux managed to dig it up."
"I'd be very interested to find out who his contact in Germany is." Clint frowned thoughtfully.
Tony nodded, carrying the weapon back over to the table. He set it down and leaned against the wood with a heavy sigh.
"He's going to hurt you…and I can't stop him…"
"I know, Stark." Clint replied quietly. "I can take it."
Yeah, Tony thought, but can I?
End of Chapter 5
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Here's your preview:
"If we're going to be doing this whole trust thing…I think you should call me Tony."
Clint stared hard at him and Tony found himself wondering what had caused such a serious bout of reflection. Finally, after several agonizing moments of deliberation, Clint replied.
"Then you should probably call me Clint."