Nick Fury looked up from his report; he could hear the arguing voices of Romanoff and Hill. If his door bursting open surprised him, he didn't show it. Stark, Romanoff and Hill moved into the office still bickering over the appropriateness of the interruption. With a wave of his hand he dismissed Agent Hill despite her look of protest for their guests' inability to follow protocol.

"Agent Romanoff, Mr. Stark," Fury greeted with his usual cool detachment.

Natasha slammed her fists down onto his desk and leaned forward. "What have you done with Barton?"

The Director leaned forward in his chair to meet her glare. Her tone was doing nothing for his disposition. "Are you accusing me of something agent?"

"Men armed with SHIELD weapons grabbed Barton two hours ago and took him to an abandoned airstrip where one of our planes collected him." She threw the surveillance picture she'd had Tony pull, once they'd arrived at the base, at the Director.

He looked over the picture and had to agree with the brash conclusion his agent had come to. The situation was news to him; he did however have a theory of his own and the idea sent a cold chill down his spine. "I'm going to ignore your intrusive entrance and the insubordination, but I want a full report of what happened regarding Agent Barton's abduction." His tone shifted from authoritative to slightly more familiar. "I assure you I had nothing to do with this."

Stark and Romanoff relayed the story as they knew it, along with everything Steve had told them. When they were done Fury stood up from his desk and moved to the door "you two stay here." The command and tone he used left no room for argument, and the pair sat in silence waiting for Fury to return.

The man in question walked down the hall until he came to a dead end; he pushed a panel in the wall aside and punched in an access code. After the finger print scan, one section of wall slide to the side allowing him entrance into a dark room. The lights came on as he entered and the door closed behind him. He stood in front of several screens that flickered on. "I want to speak to the council," he demanded.

It took about fifteen minutes but eventually all the screens lit up to reveal the shadow figures of the council representatives.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the first council member.

The Director replied in a no nonsense voice, "approximately two hours ago one of my agents was abducted. He was taken to an airfield and forced onboard what suspiciously looks like one of our planes by men carrying, again what suspiciously looks like, our weapons. You wouldn't happen to know the whereabouts of Agent Barton, code name Hawkeye, by any chance?"

"Agent Barton has been taken into custody pending investigation," answered the third council member.

"Investigation of what?"

"Agent Barton is a threat to the security of this agency and the world at large," argued the fourth council member.

"My agent is an excellent operative and has been instrumental in saving the world as well as this agency several times. All an investigation is going to do is waste time and prove what we already know; that Agent Barton is an invaluable asset." He only employed the best, and for the council to accuse one of his top agents was insulting.

Council member number three continued, "We will inform you of our findings after we have conducted our preliminary investigation."

"Agent Barton has rights and you have no cause to treat him like a criminal."

"Agent Barton is employed by this agency and will be subjected to whatever we deem necessary to determine his status. We shouldn't have to remind you Director Fury that you are also subject to the council, and are hereby ordered to take no further action in regards to this matter. We will contact you with our findings," snapped the fourth council member after which the screens went black leaving Fury to seethe by himself.

He suspected the council might try something like this. Going against their decision to nuke Manhattan had once again put the Director outside their good graces. Over the time he had been in charge of SHIELD operations there had been many times that the two forces didn't see eye to eye, and more often than not as long as the ends justified the means the council let everyone be. Nick had wondered when the time would come when the council would grow tired of looking foolish; apparently they chose now and were prepared to offer Barton up as the sacrificial lamb.

Fury knew the Avengers weren't going to take this lying down; they were prepared to fight for one another, to stand as a team. He hoped the council knew the large can of worms they'd just opened.

The shock of the ice cold water brought Clint back to consciousness coughing and sputtering; he tried to move his hand to wipe the water from his eyes, but found that his hands were securely fastened to the chair he was seated on. He leaned back in the chair testing how well he was restrained and tried to blink the dark room into focus.

Barton ran a self check of his aliments. He was nauseous and the world refused to stay still; his limbs felt heavy and his coordination was almost nonexistent. There was a slight tug on his arm and judging by the way it pulled and the feeling of something jabbing into it, he surmised that he was hooked up to an IV. That was never going to be a good thing.

Somewhere in the cell a door opened and Clint tried to focus on where the sound was coming from. The bright light flooded the room causing him to scrunch his eyes closed in a vain effort to ease the pain the sudden shift in light caused.

When his eyes finally adjusted as much as his clouded brain would allow, Clint glared at the man that was now seated in front of him. The man was dressed in a suit and had all the demeanor of someone who worked for some sort of agency. Behind the suit stood two guards dressed in uniforms that Barton could clearly identify.

"Does the Director know about this?" Clint croaked hoarsely.

"Directory Fury has been made aware of the investigation, but this action is authorized by the council," replied the suit.

"Investigation into what?" His eyelids were getting heavy again. The IV must contain a sedative of some sort. If he wasn't being drugged the situation might have spurred more alarm in Clint, but at the moment his biggest concern was trying to stay awake to determine just how bad the situation was.

"The council wishes to determine your threat level." The suit's voice was cold and robotic like he was explaining how to program a VCR, instead of informing a prisoner why they were being drugged and detained. Clint's sluggish brain provided a name to the face before him. He and Natasha had worked with Agent Mason in the past.

"Untie me and I can show you my threat level."

"Agent Barton, the council believes you are a threat to this organization and the world. You conspired with the war criminal Loki resulting in the deaths of over one hundred agents, and most recently you attempted to kill the members of the Avengers' initiative."

Clint wanted to argue, to tell the stone faced man where he could stick his investigation but the accusation was founded on truth; he had done those things. While he was sure he wasn't the threat that the council was trying to paint him as, he wasn't as sure he didn't deserve what was coming his way.

There was a knock on the cell door and one of the SHIELD clad guards opened it. A man dressed in surgical scrubs entered carrying a silver try and a folding table; he set the table up within reach of the suit and placed the tray on top. Without any discussion the man exited as quickly as he entered.

Mason reached over and grabbed the first of several syringes that were on the tray. He pressed the plunger and removed the air from the needle. All Clint could do was watch as the suit reached over and grabbed the IV line that was already feeding a drug cocktail into him and added the contents of the syringe. In seconds his vision began to fade and voices became distorted. The last thing to pierce the black veil that was gripping him was the suit declaring, "We'll start with the medical investigation."