With Jarvis's help, Iron Man quickly got his bearings after he took flight from the compound. It pained him to leave Barton there, especially with the impending deadline fast approaching, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why Clint had closed the door. They'd been so close; there was no reason for Hawkeye to throw it away at the last moment. There wasn't any time to dwell on it, the clock was ticking and he had to get back to rally the troops and break their wayward bird out. It looked like they were going to get another crash course in 'pulling together'.
Ignoring the looks from the various passing agents aboard the helicarrier, Stark strode to the meeting room; where Rogers and Romanoff were going over the base schematics Tony had managed to discreetly send them. Bruce was putting the last few pieces of medical supplies he thought he would need into one of the many cases the rest of the team had packed in preparation for their retrieval mission. While they were following the trial, Bruce had been brushing up on various medical treatments and measures based on the methods used by the council for interrogation and execution; he didn't want to take any chances that they might not be prepared for something.
Romanoff, Rogers and Thor had been planning out different assault patterns and scenarios; so when Tony entered the room it only took a split second for the team to be ready to go. Time was their greatest obstacle now and, of all the things in the world that could beat them, they weren't going to let it be the clock.
After the verdict Fury had conveniently become buried in his work. With several other missions on the go he had no time to babysit a team of highly dangerous and motivated adults who had mistakenly been given access to a quinjet and any other resources one might need to attempt a jail break. He made a mental note to step up security around the helicarrier sometime next week.
The team boarded the jet and took their seats. Using Jarvis to transfer the controls to his suit, Tony took the pilot's position; they weren't willing to chance that one of the SHIELD pilots might answer directly to the council. So, with the AI's help, Tony stood a good chance at flying the highly advanced piece of technology.
Flipping the start up switches Stark asked, "everyone's sure they want to do this. This is your last chance to walk away." No one made any attempt to leave the quinjet. "Romanoff?" he asked, wanting to give her one last chance to reconcile her duty to SHIELD and the team.
"Let's do this." Natasha took the co-pilots seat and began plotting in their course. They were off to save their teammate, what came after that was still a work in progress. However, based on what she had managed to piece together the night before, there still might be a chance that things could work in their favor.
Fury watched the jet take off on his computer screen. He had disagreed with the council many times and this was no different. He couldn't even justify the outcome of their actions; the Director was all for keeping the world safe, but killing Barton wasn't going to ensure that. If it was then he would have been the first person to take the agent down. The Avengers were their greatest chance at a protective force, and the only way the initiative was going to work was if it had all of its dysfunctional members together. He couldn't openly help them save Clint, but the problem with only having one eye was it left you with a huge blind spot.
The cell door slid open and Agent Mason entered with his usual entourage; Clint opened his eyes and turned his head but didn't get up from the cot. Waiting for anything else in his life, time seemed to proceeded at a crawl, but not this night. Time flew by like the universe couldn't wait for his date with the executioner.
"It's time," informed Mason not even trying to keep the enjoyment off his face.
Clint silently made it to his feet and followed the suit out of his cell. The guards were really unnecessary, he had no intention of running; he would cooperate. He was escorted up one floor and then down a series of corridors. When they got to the room, the guards stopped at the door and only Mason and Barton continued over the threshold. Two of the medical officers were waiting and a video camera was set up so the council could watch their fine work; it seemed they saw better from a distance as well.
Mason's cold voice broke through Clint's wandering thoughts, "if you'll have a seat."
The archer complied and got up on the gurney. Mason removed the shackles and proceeded to strap the prisoner down; the two doctors began to busy themselves with their prep work. Soon a tray with several syringes found itself next to the gurney and an IV line had been set up and inserted in Clint's hand.
"Is there anything you wish to say before we proceed?" asked Mason. Clint shook his head. "Then we will continue as scheduled with the execution of Clint Barton at 0800 hours."
The minutes ticked by slowly; every second being punctuated loudly by the clock ticking away and a nervous twitch in Barton's stomach. When the hour chimed Mason nodded to the doctor that had taken a seat next to Clint. Unlike the agent, the doctor at least looked slightly saddened by the task charged to him that morning. He selected the first needle on the tray and removed the cap; grabbing the IV line he inserted the needle, pressed the plunger and injected the contents.
Barton focused on the ceiling; there was no point in thinking about it. Instead he chanted over and over in his head. The team is ok; they're going to be fine. Tony had escaped and Clint would no longer be a hindrance or a threat to his team. That would be his only saving grace; removing himself from the equation would equal their safety. The drug ran through the IV line and into the prisoner's veins. Soon Clint felt the heavy pull of his eyelids and a blissfully warm feeling spread over him; he fought if for a few seconds but the darkness's grip was too powerful. Just before he closed his eyes for the last time, he saw the doctor inject the second to last syringe into the IV line.