After a couple hours driving, they reached their destination. It was on the outskirts of London. It was a cold, empty field. A single white brick building stood in the middle. Clint sped towards and came skidding to halt. There was always time to be dramatic, he thought. The two men, in jeans and t-shirts, carrying bags and the precious letter, jogged up to the door. Mark knocked.

"Hold up!" Hollered an American accent. The door swung open to reveal a girl, early twenties, blonde hair tied up in a messy bun, wearing a jumper and shorts and chunky boots. She was chewing gum, no- leaves. She had a strong minty smell wafting from her. She has tall and fit and took up most the door frame in a this-is-my-place-I'm-king-here kind of way. She gave the impression of power and lots of confidence. Clint liked her. "Ah, Mr Terry. How can I help you?" She didn't shrink away from Mark but obviously didn't like him much. She looked down her nose at him with shallow blue eyes.

"Bell. How you doing?" Mark nodded politely at her and both Bell and Clint coughed lightly, hinting he should move on quickly. They shared a glace of impatience. Bell liked Clint.

"Let me rephrase that. What do you want? I'm not interested in your stupid drugs anymore, ok?" She glared at him with immense power. If looks could kill…

"No, it's actually about that favour. I think you know what I'm talking about. We need a lift," He raised his eyebrows expectantly. She spun around violently with a huge sigh and walked off through the house. The men followed her. Clint didn't take any notice of her house; instead he was eagerly looking out the back door. Mark hadn't told him how they were getting to Greenland. Bell had gone round the corner of the house, shouting orders to hurry up. The men jogged to catch her and saw her jumping surely into a small plane. Clint knew little about planes.

"Bell's the best flyer in the whole country!" Mark said enthusiastically.

"Pilot," Bell barked. "Where are we going?" She hand her hand on her hip and her head cocked, impatient expression plastered to her face.

"Greenland," Mark said. Bell rolled her eyes at him and snatched the GPS he was offering.

The three got into the plane and had barely shut the door before Bell took off. She was off the ground in seconds and Mark had relaxed in the back seat. He was clicking around on his laptop. Clint felt less nervous and more confident now that he was actually doing something proper to get to Natasha. He ran her name through his head several times, each time the deep dark pang stung him. He tried to relax like Mark had but he couldn't. He couldn't get to Greenland quick enough. He was urging the plan to go faster. Bell cast a few sideways glances at him and saw his fixed, unnatural position. She flicked a few switches and a little panel flung up from under the dash of the plan. It was a ting noise and had three small buttons on it. A blue one, a green one and a bright, flashing red one.

"I love big red buttons," she said cheekily to Clint. Mark was craning his neck to see what she was doing. She slammed her palm on to the red button. The plane made a big, reckless jolt and then continued. A mechanical whirring noise sounded from under the plane and a few more jolts, smaller than before, rocked the plane. Mark and Clint leaned over to look from the windows. Two cylinders were coming out from under the plane. They were torpedo shaped and black, looking very slick next to the silver of the plane. Another two seconds and then an eruption burst the boys' ears. Clint looked pointedly towards Bell who had ear plugs in and a smug smile. The eruption was huge bursts of flame coming from the jets. The plane was moving tenfold the speed it was before.

"20 minutes max, k hun?" Bell winked at Clint. His pang subdued. They might be there in time.

Surprisingly, after the initial noise, the jets were dead silent.

"I see you haven't given up on your old hobbies?" Mark remarked from behind his screen.

"Just because you up and left, doesn't mean I'm going to hold everything until you come back," she snapped back at him.

"Who said I was coming back?"

"Oh, don't even! I know you were just waiting for a chance to come back!"

"And I know you were waiting for me," Mark had a cheeky smile in his voice. He was winning.

"Jordan came back," she said quietly. Clint saw that this meant a lot by Mark's sudden disapproving look.

"Did he er, live with you?" He proceeded with caution.

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you?"

"Jordan was not a good influence, Izabella. That's what got you started on-"

"You too! He got you hooked on 'em too!" She shouted. The plane dropped a little. Clint looked out the window and saw just how fast they were going. The land was moving past them at an impossible speed.

"That's why I left," Mark said, just over a whisper.

"You- what?" Bell's face softened and she focused harder on her flying.

Clint felt extremely awkward after that and for the rest of the flight. Luckily enough, ten minutes and they were flying over Greenland. The jets were packed back in and Mark had all his gear ready to go.

"Where do we need to land?" Bell asked, very business-like. Mark flinched at the hardness of her voice. He chucked her GPS to her.

"About 2 KS from the red dot. We'll walk, cautiously, the rest of the way. We can't be seen. I assume?" He looked towards Clint, who took over.

"Well, you said there is something, possibly someone, killing them. We don't want that or it or whatever to notice us. Also, we need to get to that town and find someone, possibly someone that doesn't want to be found," He silently added that the person might also be dead. The pang rung through his whole body and he shook it out. "Land quietly and then we'll er, go. I guess," Clint stared out the windshield. Another two minutes and they were landed, perfectly quiet and with the town very far off. The snow helped the silver plane be unseen. The three put on slim fitting, weather proof jackets and trousers. Bell gave the boys some super-boots, thick leather, spiked bottoms and tracking device from the GPS. Just in case. Mark took his bag and Clint took the letter and tucked it neatly in his jacket. This was it. This was go.