Wow guys! I'm amazed at the amount of feedback I'm already getting for this story. It is certainly more than I was expecting when I first started this.

This is a short chapter, but it's finals week and I'm very pressed for time. Writing is my stress outlet, but I don't have a lot of time to sit down and write 10 pages.

Still, I like where this is going. I hope you guys do too!

STANDARD DISCLAIMER THINGY

So I will run until I each the end

And who knows where I'll be

For all this time

And all the reasons that I cannot find

She wouldn't stop glaring.

Some captives cursed at their captors, while others attempted to persuade their captors to let them go free, or just chattered on and on to annoy their captors. Still, others may choose to remain silent, plotting their escape or accepting their defeat.

Clint would have preferred any of these. But the girl just kept glaring.

She hadn't said a word. She had not even tried to escape after he got his cuffs on her. Instead, she had complied easily to his commands and had stepped calmly into the back of an armored van and sat down on the bench attached to the side of the van. Then Clint attached a chain from her cuffs to a metal bar beneath the bench she sat on, as well as cuffing her ankles together. He was well aware of the feats of escape that Black Widows were capable of.

And the whole time, all she did was glare over the edge of her mask.

Damn, they must teach that at the Black Widow academy or something. Clint thought, again eerily reminded of Natasha on a bad day.

Phil had joined them in the back of the van and attempted to get the girl to talk, but she wouldn't budge. She just glared at Clint, ignoring Phil as if the man did not even exist. The only time she spoke was when Phil went to pull down her mask, and she quietly threatened to bite off his fingers and then eviscerate him if he did. It created a rather graphic mental image. Finally Phil gave up, and returned to the front of the van, climbing into the passenger's seat and ordering the driver back to base.

Clint sat across from her on the opposite side of the van, resisting the urge to squirm beneath her gaze. Ugh, Natasha did the same thing to him too, when she wanted to get her way. Damn women.

He did not bother to swing his bow across his back again. Instead, he kept it in his lap, tapping a finger on the grip of his compound bow. He was nervous – something wasn't right. It was too easy. She had just… given up. That did not sit well with him at all. She was planning something, he just knew it.

BOOMMMM!

As if on cue with his thoughts, an explosion rocked the van and tipped it over onto its side. Clint twisted in midair so that he landed on his back, the air knocked out of him.

Their captive grunted harshly as her back was slammed down against the side of the van. With her wrists and ankles cuffed, she was unable to brace herself for the impact, and Clint heard a sickening crack as her head hit the metal walls.

Shit.

Her body was curled at an in an odd angle due to her restraints, blood staining the inner wall of the van as it slumped down.

"Dammit!" Phil's voice cried out as the agent kicked his door up and open, pulling out his gun as he crawled out. "All units, report!"

"I'm… alive. I think." Clint muttered into his earpiece. There was a pause as the other teams called in, while Hawkeye pulled himself together and crawled over towards the girl.

"You alive, girl?" He asked rhetorically, knowing that she was unconscious. He first checked her pulse, which thankfully was going strong, and then quickly unshackled her.

" –on the roof!" He heard the agents speaking over the comms. "We've got snipers! Five more contacts from the alley!"

Clint cursed inwardly as he slung his bow across his back and slipped one arm beneath the girl. Kicking open the back doors to the van, he dragged them both out of the tipped car.

"Prisoner is unconscious!" He said into his earpiece. "We're emerging from the main van. I need cover fire."

"Got it, Hawkeye." One of the agents answered him.

In the open, Clint finally caught a glimpse of the situation. There had been three roadside bombs, all seemingly targeting their cars. Three of their four vans had been expertly tipped with the precision of the explosions, while bullets seemed to rain down on them from all sides. Their agents were crouched behind the fallen cars, although he noted that there was already one man down.

He crawled out, another agent ducking over to help him pull the girl out of the vehicle. They dragged her around and behind the very same van. Clint took a moment to glance around, taking only a second to note that there were two snipers, one on their ten o'clock and one at their two. Across the street there were five more men, masked and completely in black, firing what sounded like assault-grade weapons.

No mere street gang has those. Who are these people?

"Fall back!" Phil's voice cut through the chatter. "There's a small road behind us connecting to a main street. Fall back!"

Slowly the SHIELD agents began to back up, taking turns covering each other as one by one they turned and ran to find cover in the back street which cut off the view of their enemies. Clint aided their efforts, thanking god that he had replenished his quiver as soon as he had finished their last mission.

"Ugh…"

Clint glanced down and noticed the girl finally stirring. He quickly knelt beside her, hands hovering over her body, unsure of what to do. He reached up to remove her mask –

–and a small hand snagged his wrist in a tight grip.

"Good to see you're still alive." He said. "Long story short, we're under attack. Think you can stand and run by yourself? We're dodging bullets here."

Her eyes fluttered unsteadily, and when she looked up she was unable to focus on his face, her eyes flickering back and forth erratically. That was definitely a concussion.

"I'll take that as a 'no'." Clint muttered, sitting up to look over the side of the van and quickly releasing a few arrows at the shooters.

"Give me… a g-gun." The girl slurred as she struggled to sit up, her hand coming up to her mask to make sure it was still in place.

Clint glanced back down at her. "I don't think you're in any shape to hold a weapon." He said dryly.

"Barton!" Phil's voice rang in his ear. "Get moving! The rest of the men will cover you!"

"Right, time to get outta here." Clint muttered as he pulled his bow over his shoulder, ordering the agent beside him to cover him. He leaned down to pick up the girl –

Pow!

He reeled back as a fist made contact with his face, the girl leaping up and kicking him in the gut with a powerful spinning side-kick. Clint would swear that he went flying, before landing on his back, dazed. The agent that had been working beside him yelled, and then turned to shoot the girl. But she was already on him, catching his arm in an arm-lock, forcing him to drop his gun. Then she grabbed the man by his hair and yanked down, slamming his forehead into her knee. The agent collapsed, unconscious.

She snatched up the discarded gun, glancing down at dazed archer and with a mischievous look in her eyes, held up something with her other hand. A small, flashing device.

A locator.

Oh the irony. Curse words in multiple languages flew threw his head as he rolled to his side and pushed himself up. Clint managed to get to his feet, but by that time she had already leaped over the side of the tipped car.

"Poyekhali!" He heard her yell.

Clint ran back to van, arrow knocked and drawn, aiming over the side, only to see the girl disappear into the shadowy alleyway, their mysterious attackers following behind her.

"Fuck!" Clint snarled. Used my own tricks against me!

"Barton, what are you doing?" Phil's voice cut through his thoughts. "Get moving!"

"…Coming." Clint growled and kneeled down to hoist the unconscious agent over his shoulders. There were only two other agents still hiding behind the cars; the others had retreated to Phil's location. Clint nodded for them to follow him, cutting through another alley and jogging down the street.

Their agents were gathered around the fourth and final van, the only SHIELD car to have escaped the attack. The injured were sitting or lying in the back, while Phil conversed quietly and tersely with an agent. He looked up when he heard their footsteps, relief on his face when he saw Clint.

But then his expression fell into worry.

"Where's the girl?"

Clint winced as he handed the wounded agent over to the team medic. "Gone."

"What do you mean she's gone?!" Phil asked loudly.

Clint rubbed his aching chin, knowing there would be a lovely bruise there in the morning. "She escaped. Our attackers must have been friends of hers."

Rather than yelling and cursing, Phil pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered a curse.

"Fury will hang us." He said, shaking his head.

"Maybe we just won't tell him?" Clint asked hopefully.

Phil gave him a pointed look.

"There is another Black Widow out there, Barton. We need to get to her before someone else does."

Hahaha Clint is having a very bad day. One would think he could see past Black Widow acting skills by now. Yes, I have purposefully left out her name and appearance. We will find that out when Natasha appears!

Anyway, please leave a review! They fuel my inspiration.

~Lilithia