Time for Thor.
When Clint gets his next assignment, it's straight from Director Fury, simply because Phil Coulson is out of town with Natasha. He's lying on his back on a table in the mess hall, waiting on Natasha – Natalie, he needs to remember he's playing the long-distance boyfriend – to call, when hand comes out of nowhere and shoves him off the table. He'd forgotten that Fury didn't like it when people put their feet on the table, never mind the rest of their body.
But, he's ordered to get a bunch of security together, Sitwell was the lucky one rounding up scientists, and start preparing to head out to New Mexico. Coulson was already heading in that direction from California, but there was something funny that needed evaluation. Nodding, Clint starts walking out of the room as the cell phone he was playing with rings. "Nat babe! Working on your tan?" the response has him laughing. "So grandpa called. There's something out west that he wants me to take a look at, think you could take a couple days and we can play in the ocean? The Expo? Aw, babe, it's like one of those Murphy's Laws or something. Talk to you later babe, love you bye." Turning, he looks at Fury, who nods. Since the other man knows what's going on with Stark, Clint just keeps on walking.
Clint likes the ideas of subordinates; all that he has to do is tell somebody that he needs twenty men and weapons, and by the time he hits his desk there's a list of names and supplies waiting in his e-mail. Pulling up weather reports has him adding wet weather supplies onto the list of supplies – nothing says that the weather will be anything other than hot and dry, but he didn't get this far in the world to expect the unexpected. He refrains from cold-weather gear, though, and adds a few more names onto the list. He sends out the orders, telling everybody that they've got three hours to make everything happen, or they can go shopping with Natasha next time.
He skips wearing his usual uniform for the trip, since he'd rather blend in with everybody else. The scientists are coming later, flying out when the site has been set up. A cargo jet gets supplies and soldiers as far into New Mexico as is possible, then they all load up in trucks and Jeeps and keep on driving.
The rules are simple for traveling as a generic agent: suits, sunglasses, baseball caps as needed. The rest of the order, "act the phrase, 'we're from the government, and we're here to help you,'" is a bit harder for Clint, since out in the middle of nowhere, there's only lizards to see him turn on the satellite radio to classic rock and start dancing and singing in his seat as he's driving, Sitwell doing an awkward version of a head bang in the passenger seat, alternating with playing air guitar. The ringing of a phone leads to the entire caravan pulling onto the side of the road, while Sitwell reprograms the GPS and Clint delegates one Jeep to take a longer route and pick up enough fast food to feed their entire motley crew.
A raised eyebrow from Phil Coulson is all that they get as the caravan arrives at the crater, and Clint hands him a children's meal while directing different people to clear out the last of the civilians and start getting everything set up. He chooses to overlook the odd person wandering over to the hammer embedded in the ground and giving it a quick tug; as long as everything is getting set up for the arrival of the scientists in two hours, that's fine by him.
The next day, he watches as Coulson takes a few men and drives off, returning later shaking his head over how crazy scientists can be. Not up to Clint to argue, he just nods and walks off to check on the sentries.
That night, when Natalie calls from New York, he lays in the sand of the desert and stares at the stars while the code phrases fall aimlessly from his lips and their meanings float around in his head.