A/N 1: Because I had so much fun with Oxycodone Days, I decided to continue it. It isn't essential that you read it first, but some of the characterizations and motifs will make more sense if you do. This story was heavily influenced by the "Hurt Locker," because I really liked Jeremy Renner in it
Into the Fire, Chapter 1: Strike a Match
Tuesday, April 19, 9:39 am
Stupid Fury, Natasha thought as she tugged her robe so it wasn't stuck to her sweaty thighs and stomped down the hall towards Tony's lab. Stupid fucking Tony too, she groused, hoping he wouldn't notice how erect her nipples were under the thin fabric. Who was she kidding, of course he would notice. Why couldn't Fury just summon Stark on his own without having to send her as an errand girl? Clint had just gotten back a few hours ago from a mission in Cambodia. They had spared and she convinced him to join her in the sauna afterwards, even though he had, "had enough of steamy, fucking jungle heat for awhile."
She ground her teeth and wished she had grabbed her slippers before trudging down here. Tony's uber energy efficient, new fangled cooling system assured that they were always comfortable but also that the floors were like walking on a slab of ice.
She really would have preferred a warm body under her right now. Natasha knew people always wondered if her and Barton were sleeping together and then once they figured out the answer was 'yes,' why she was with him and not someone better looking. She was mature enough to admit Steve was better looking, Banner was nicer, and Tony was more charming. None of it matter to her, Clint was Clint and worth more than any of them as far as she was concerned. Besides, he could do some freaky, circus shit in bed she hadn't even know was possible. And she had just opened the big top so she could climb his center pole, so to speak when Fury interrupted them. Great, now her nipples were standing out even further!
"STARK!" she yanked the door open to the lab, surprising Tony and Bruce.
"I didn't do it," Tony shouted without even looking up but she could hear the smirk on his face. She was going to knock that grin off of there in about 2 seconds. Clint had been gone for 3 weeks, 3 weeks with nothing but the other Avengers and her SHIELD cohorts for company. Three weeks of no partner and no sex. If Barton was asleep when she got back, Tony was going to die!
"I don't care what else you haven't done, but you haven't answered Fury, and he is most insistent that you do, so CALL HIM BACK," She growled.
"Why Natasha, you sound angry," he looked up at her and that smirk turned into his insufferable smile. "I do believe Jarvis mentioning that Agent Barton returned this morning, Fury didn't interrupt anything did he?" he taunted and she rolled her eyes.
"Actually he did. We were about to start practicing scenes out of the Kama Sutra, when Fury called and made me come find you. So if you could please ring him up, so I can get back to page 102," She opted for honesty, knowing it would take him a minute to process it and respond. She ignored Bruce's blazingly, red blush and tossed a phone at Tony. He purposely missed and back pedaled from her and the phone. She bent down to grab it and heard a beep as a red light under the floor caught her eye. "Don't move Tony!" She shouted and dropped into a crouch.
"Agent Romanov," Bruce started, "your robe."
She ignored him and the fact that her robe only came to her mid thigh and she was crouched with her legs open and nothing on under it. That was the least of her concerns. "Shit," she started and looked back at them. "There's a bomb under the floor."
[{Break}]
"What?" Tony squeaked and looked back at Romanov, only slightly distracted that other than Barton and her Gynecologist everyone else that had had this view was probably dead. She was a natural red head and went for a landing strip, somehow he pictured her as more of a Brazilian girl, but that wasn't important right now.
"Don't anyone move," she ducked her head a little lower and sighed. "There is a trigger of kind under the tile you are standing on. It might go off if you move," she told him calmly as she scanned the rest of the room and floor. The labs were designed with partially see through holographic floor panels so everyone could see his state of the art heating and cooling system that ran between the floors. It was 70% more energy efficient than standard AC units and he was very proud of it.
"What should we do?" Banner called to them. He hadn't moved from his stool by his computer. He looked stressed though, which was never a good sign.
"Try not to freak out, would be a start," Tony answered, "either of us," he finished as Natasha continued to see what she could see without moving.
"I can't see the trigger or the switch," she finally admitted.
"Jarvis, can you figure out what type of bomb or trigger it might be and disarm it?" Tony tried. His AI should know everything that went on in every inch of the tower.
"I'm afraid not, sir, someone has damaged my relays to the R&D lab floors." The computerized British accent answered.
"Well, shit," Tony sighed. "Ok, get the Mark 7 suit in here for me then," he decided.
"NO!" Romanov screamed. "We don't know if it is timed, pressure sensitive, or what. Any movement could set it off." Tony suddenly felt panicked in a way he had not been before.
"Then what do we do? We can't just stand here all day?" He ranted, noticing Bruce breathing deeply.
"Jarvis, find Rogers and have him evacuate the building. Don't let him into anyplace you can't sweep." She took charge, looking unruffled and in command even while only wearing a black, silk robe.
"Very good, ma'am," the AI responded
"Then what do we do?" Tony protested but she held up her hand to shoosh him.
"Clint," she barked into the phone in her hand.
"Hey, Natashen'ka, where are you?" he mumbled back, sounding like he had been asleep. Romanov looked murderous for some reason.
"We have a situation," she told him calmly, gracefully standing back up.
"What is it?" Tony could no longer hear any trace of grogginess in his voice. It wasn't Clint and Tasha talking anymore, it was Hawkeye and Black Widow. He still didn't understand how they just turned on and off like that.
"I'm in Tony's lab with him and Bruce. There was a quiet beep and a red light now shining under the tile Tony is standing on. I can see a few wires that appear out of place and Jarvis's sensors were disconnected.
"Is Rogers clearing everyone else out?" Barton questioned, Tony could hear rustling in the background, like the man was getting dressed. Holy shit, Fury really had interrupted them when they were having sex. Talk about awkward.
"Da," she answered simply.
"Ok, I'll be there in a sec," he hung up and Natasha tucked the phone into her pocket, making her robe droop on one side.
"Now what?" Tony asked, he was not the type of person that enjoyed sitting around waiting to be saved.
"Now we wait," she slid her feed out slightly and balanced her weight comfortably, crossing her arms.
He looked around his lab for anything he could use to improvise but there was nothing. This was purely a computer lab and made for winding down and deep thinking, not building anything in. The entire ceiling was a series of glass tiles that created a dome affect, the floor were semi transparent tiles that were smooth as glass, and the tables were on casters and of solid construction so they were of no use.
He made it about 3 minutes before he exploded, "What are we waiting for?"
"That," she pointed towards the ceiling, where Barton was kneeling, cutting a hole through one of the glass panes.
Once the marksman had the hole cut and removed the glass, he stuck his torso threw and fired a series of arrows with ropes attached to them. It appeared haphazard at first, but then Tony realized he was creating a web of ropes he could dangle from without touching the floor. He spent some time swinging through them like a freakin' trapeze artist, attaching carbines and belaying ropes at intervals. After he was satisfied, he hooked his harness in and started to descend towards them. As he dropped, Tony started humming the Mission Impossible theme song, because he really couldn't help himself. Natasha gave him a dirty look.
"Here," he handed over a com device and his bow his partner and hung his quiver from a rope right beside her, when he reached her shoulder level. He tossed com links to Tony and Bruce as well, as Romanov secured the quiver over her back. Tony's quick eyes caught him guiding her hand to a specific arrow, the one with the tranquilizers to stop the Hulk. It was a sound tactical decision but he was still insulted on Banner's behalf. Bruce just seemed relieved. "Com check," he asked, pulling Tony out of his musings.
"Copy," Natasha answered and stared at him and Banner till they also answered.
"Well, let's see what we are dealing with here," Barton began to swing around the room, stopping to remove light switches, electrical outlets, surge protectors, and Ethernet cables. Each one he examined and reattached. He then returned to the tile between Natasha and Tony, dropping to about a foot above the floor and started to pull up one of the tiles. He was meticulous in working it up slightly, then feeling underneath it for wires. It took over six minutes, and yes, Tony was counting, for the man to free the tile from wires running under it and remove it from the floor. There was a blast of cold air from the cooling system under the floor, as he removed the tile and secured it from one of the ropes. The lab was directly over the server room, so it had the most space between floors for additional cooling coils.
Barton lowered himself further and ducked his head under the tiles, shining a light around, one of the many things he had stuffed into the 18 pockets in his pants. Why did one person need so many pockets? It seemed like he was down there forever and Tony was about to yell, when he popped back up and said, "I've got good news and bad news."
"Good news first, Agent Barton," Fury chimed over their ear pieces. Tony almost jumped in surprise.
"Good news there's no timer."
"And the bad news?" Tony asked, wondering how much worse this could get.
"The pressure sensors in the floor have been rewired to act as a giant dead man's switch and there's enough military issue C-4 down there to level the entire building. Oh and Stark is standing right in the middle of it." Barton relayed, then starting messing around with the knots on his harness. "The placement is weird though, they aren't trying to bring the building down, the blast pattern would be up and out but there would be little structural damage to the majority of the tower."
"The servers," Tony said, smacking himself in the head. "The server room where all the R&D on our unfinished weapons is stored is directly below this room." He sighed, "someone is trying to steal my weapons designs."
Barton looked at him as he through the whole, and untied his ropes from his harness. "Look at it this way, Stark, maybe it isn't that convoluted, maybe someone is trying to kill you," he smiled and dropped out of sight.
He could trace Barton's movements by his light and the sound of scuffing under the floor. He watched him belly crawl the entire room, occasionally stopping and tinkering with a few things before Bruce spoke ups, "Agent Barton, how sensitive are the pressure sensors?"
Tony could see the man take his flash light out of his mouth to respond, "no way of knowing for sure, but since they are wired through Jarvis's sensors, probably about the same, within a few ounces of pressure change, from above or below," he answered.
"So you are playing a giant game of operation under there? You hit one of the sensors or anyone moves and kaboom?" Tony asked, feeling sick to his stomach. He was going to die, he was going to get blown up in his lab and he never got the chance to actually make Pepper an edible omelet. Maybe he could talk Hawkeye into teaching him how to make one, if he lived.
"Something like that?" he was silent again as he made it to the wall by the door and Tony finally had to ask.
"How long is this going to take?" he was antsy and beyond unhappy at his lack of control.
"It's going to take a while," Barton answered annoyingly calm. What exactly did it take to ruffle that guys feathers?
"How long is awhile?" Natasha asked, watching Bruce warily.
"You remember how long it took me to set those charges in Managua?" he mumbled at her, clearly not bothering to remove the flashlight from his mouth.
"Yes," she answered. He was glad at least she could understand him.
"Longer than that," he returned and she slumped her shoulders and hung her head.
"Tony, don't lock your knees and make sure balance your weight evenly," she counseled and he knew he was in for it.
Tony started getting fidgety after an hour. The fact that he couldn't move made him want to move more than anything and he had to constantly fight with himself not to start kicking his legs around. He needed a distraction. "Doesn't he ever talk?" he almost shouted, startling Bruce.
"If he isn't talking then we're fine, start worrying when he gets chatty," she answered and went back to tracing his progress under the floor. He was nearly directly under her when he stopped and Tony could see he was shining the light upward.
"Hey, Tasha," Barton finally said, "I can't see your panties," he sounded dead serious and Natasha started cracking up. Tony was lost and petrified. The Black Widow laughing couldn't end well for anyone.
"Really, Barton, we could all be blown up and that is what you are concentrating on?" There was still a hint of mirth in her voice.
"I could die a happy man if that was the last thing I saw," he answered but moved past her.
"And I could die happy if these tiles weren't between me and your face but we don't always get want we want," she teased back and Bruce blushed again.
"What's going on in there guys? Why is Natasha threatening Barton's face," Steve asked, clearly worried and uncomfortable being out of the loop. Also clearly misunderstanding the meaning of Romanov's comment.
"Nothing, Rogers, Barton is still working on the bomb," Romanov started but Tony cut her off.
"Natasha isn't wearing underwear and Barton was looking up her robe." She glared at him but he ignored it. Causing problems was taking his mind off the fact he was standing on a giant cash of C-4 and had to trust an ex circus performer to save him.
"That's just disrespectful," Steve sounded upset. Then added with a confused tone, "why would he look anyway, I thought he was, you know, gay?" he finished in a whisper, which got a snort from Barton and a giggle from Romanov.
"Don't worry about it," Tony told him as he went back to watching Hawkeye belly crawl under him.
Another hour in and Barton hadn't said a word, Natasha looked bored, Bruce looked sleepy, and Tony was freaking the fuck out. He was about to pull his hair out, when he heard the sweetest voice he knew, "Tony, are you still doing alright?" Pepper asked over the com link and he felt his lips turn upward.
"Yeah, yeah, we're all still ok. I think Barton might be taking a nap under the floor but other than that we're good." He soothed her. Keeping her calm was making him work at remaining calm. "Are you safely away from the tower, just in case?"
"Yes, Happy and I are with Director Fury, were a few blocks away. Steve is here too," she sounded close to tears.
"That's good," he said, decided what the last thing he might say to her should be. He needed to let her know how much she meant to him. How she was the only person other than Rhodey that had stuck with him through thick and thin. She helped him find a reason to live when he thought it would have been easier to give up. She was a constant that he couldn't live without. He wanted her beside him for the rest of his life. His empire needed an empress and he wanted it to be her.
"Do you think Agent Barton will have you out of there in time to prepare you speech for the Energy Commission in Chicago?" she asked, being a complete romantic buzzkill.
"We can always push the flight time back, if we need to. The plane won't leave without me, it is my plane after all."
They continued chatting about his speech, him proposing jokes and her shooting them down, making him concentrate on the topic. She was so dull sometimes. Finally Barton emerged from the floor, dragging a complicated bundle of wires and about 40 blocks of C-4. Tony tried not to focus on the fact that they all seemed to be attached to the tile he was standing on. So instead he concentrated on the Agent in front of him, who was shivering from being in the middle of the cooling system for nearly 4 hours, and was covered in scrapes and bruises from belly crawling around without elbow or knee guards. He had had to discard them early on so he could fit under the floor. His fingers were raw and bleeding from having to cut and strip wires in such a confined space.
He watched Barton take the rope Natasha handed him and hook his harness into it and pull himself above the floor to sit lotus style about 6 inches above the ground. He sat there scratching his head and blowing on his fingers for about 2 seconds longer than Tony could stand. "Well, are you done?" he snapped.
"Not yet. This is the last trigger, but it's the most complicated," he looked up and smiled. "I so want to meet whoever did this, because they are awesome. They wired some of them backwards and kept changing wire color every so often. Completely random, that's why it took so long. But this," he held up the jumble of wires connected to Tony's tile, "is a thing of beauty. Triple wired switches that all have to be cut the same time or bye-bye. I'm totally stealing this design."
"I fail to share your enthusiasm, in the finer points of blowing people up," Stark droned at him, wishing this whole ordeal was over. He wanted food, sex, sleep, and a bathroom because he REALLY had to pee.
Clint started to weave his fingers through the wires forming a intricate cat's cradle of colored wires, then stopped and looked up at Tony, "I can't remember is it the red wire or the blue wire, red one, blue one, red one, blue one?" he questioned. "Maybe it's the green one" he grabbed a green wire and Tony started to sweat. "Oh well, won't know till I cut them," Barton looked him dead in the eye and said, "BOOM!" when he cut the final wires. Tony nearly fainted, crapped himself, and may have pissed himself a little. "Actually it was the yellow one," he chuckled as he released his harness and dropped on his butt to the floor. "All clear, sir, send in the bomb dogs."
"You are and unrepentant dick!" Tony groused at him, for his joke. That had not been funny. All the agent did was shrug at him and start stacking up the blocks of plastic explosive. He took the opportunity to leave for the bathroom, but Fury's voice stopped him.
"By the way, Stark, I wanted to let you know we had a credible lead that someone might make an attempt on your life. That's why I was trying to get a hold of you." He could hear the repressed humor in the other man's voice and he was going to hit something as soon as he took a leak.
They reconvened, 3 blocks away and 30 minutes later, after Natasha had slipped into a cat suit, Clint had instructed the bomb dogs where to look, and Tony had changed his pants because maybe he had peed a little but it was only to be expected. He had drunk 2 big cups of coffee and been standing there for nearly 4 hours with all that cold air blowing up at him. They were inside a SHIELD mobile command center and it was a bit of a tight fit. Rogers and Barton had to remain standing, which was just fine with him because having Happy switch out all the band aids with Hello-Kitty and Sponge Bob bandages so Barton's fingers and forearms looked like a young, Asian girl threw up on him; was not even close to recompense for his trick.
He amused himself waiting for Fury by running his hands up and down Pepper's leg and internally laughing that Barton and Rogers were unconsciously standing exactly the same way, leg shoulder width apart, hands behind their back at belt level, and elbows out. Rhodey had told him it was called parade ground rest. It didn't look restful or comfortable at all.
Fury arrived fairly quickly followed by Maria Hill. Natasha shifted in her seat slightly to put herself between the new woman and Clint. Her possessiveness was scary. Tony wondered if Barton knew she was the "if I can't have you no one can," type. But then again, who the hell else would want him? After waiting so long for Fury, it was kind of a letdown when all he said was, "Agent Hill."
"Last night we vetted a credible threat to Tony Stark's life," she brought up a picture of a badly damaged building, "according to Agent Barton, the placement of the explosives agrees with our theory that they were ultimately after the servers and the weapons R&D stored on them. We believe whoever it is that set the charges is also the same group that is responsible for the bombings you see here," she pointed to the screen. "Each one was caused by a weapon almost identical to a Stark weapon but with slight differences. We believe someone is bootlegging your designs, Mr. Stark, and rebuilding them."
"Do you know who is doing it?" Steve asked.
"No, not yet," she admitted. "We do think now that this failed, they will either make another attempt at the servers or an attempt to capture Mr. Stark."
"Then we need to get Tony into hiding," Pepper squeezed his hand. Now that he was safe, she seemed panicked. Women were weird.
"No, then we can't use him to draw them out. If they are committed enough to blow up Stark Tower, then they will make another attempt at him no matter how long he hides," Natasha pointed out.
"My thoughts exactly, Agent Romanov, you get the investigation," Fury finally added to the conversation. Tony wasn't sure how he felt about this.
"Well he should at least cancel his speech at the Energy Summit," Pepper tried.
"Actually I think he shouldn't," Fury countered.
"Barton," Fury, turned his eye to Hawkeye.
"Sir?" Barton questioned.
"Rogers will be his bodyguard but you have the security detail. You two make sure he gets in and out alive. "
"Sir, yes, sir," Barton answered and Tony lamented that he would have to trust his life to Captain tight ass and Agent dickwad or if he wanted to go for rank, Major dickwad, which was kind of funny. Maybe he should just wear the suit.
Six hours later saw him, Pepper, Rogers and Barton on his private plane to Chicago. He cuddled Pepper as they went over his speech and Rogers watched the clouds go by, occasionally commenting on the speech, but mostly just staring. They should have been in the air 2 hours ago but Hawkeye insisted on going over every square inch of the plane with a fine tooth comb, insisted the pilots keep the cockpit door open, and that they give him their communications frequency so he could hear what they were saying.
Tony had thought it was overkill but Barton would not be moved. He had actually complained to Fury but Natasha stopped him by saying, "relax, Tony, who better to protect you from an assassin then one of the world's best assassins?" He then realized all of the bases Barton was covering were probably ways he had used to get to people, which frankly made him not too fond of Barton.
Speaking of the Hawk, Tony looked over at him, and watched as he mechanically ate the swordfish steak Tony had catered, as he stared at his lap top. He had ignored it until it was probably cold and he hadn't bothered to put the mango, vinegar sauce on it. He just pulled it apart with his fork without looking and ate it like it was nothing. That was one weird thing he had noticed about the sniper, while he would cook gourmet meals for his partner, when she wasn't around he never made or ate anything more involved than a tuna sandwich. So either he didn't really like cooking that much or he had blue collar tastes.
There were other odd things he had started to notice, after Natasha convinced him to try and befriend the man. For example, Clint, when he wasn't on a mission or training or anything like that, just walking around the house; limped on his right leg. It was pronounced, not all the time, most of the time it was subtle like resting the majority of the weight on his left leg or if he was walking up stairs he started with is left leg. At first he thought it was because the man was a lefty, a fact it took him nearly 6 months to notice, but as he paid more attention he clearly picked up on a limp. He had mentioned it to Bruce, who had access to their medical histories and informed him that the bullet he took in his thigh in Afghanistan had ruptured his quadriceps tendon and torn his PCL and LCL. Not to mention the strain of being a lifelong gymnast. Dr. Banner suspected that the agent probably had mild to moderate arthritis in the joint but ignored it when he was on missions, which was most of the time.
Which brought him to his next point, which was how much it weirded him out that Clint and Agent Barton seemed to be different people. Tony was Iron Man and Iron Man was Tony. There was no difference in the way he acted in the suit or out of it. Steve was the same way. Natasha and Clint on the other hand acted like different people when they were in Agent Mode. There was no small talk, very little joking, no touching, and relaxing. Like now, for example, Barton hadn't said a thing since they took off even after he had thrown a balled up napkin at him, which he had caught without looking up and it was driving Tony nuts. Maybe he was tired because he had flown back from Cambodia and almost immediately been thrown into another mission, or maybe he was just cranky because he still had a case of blue balls from that morning. Tony would suck it up though, only because he was so damn tired.
[{Break}]
They touched down in Chicago and Clint whisked them off to the hotel he had changed their reservations to. Tony complained he wanted to stay at the W but Clint really didn't care. The complaining got worse when he forced them to take the stairs to the penthouse suite but again, he was unmoved. Did Stark realize that elevators were great places to kill people? Stair wells were much harder because people could run. Once at the room, he went in first and tossed the place. He then duct taped the drapes shut and hung additional blankets over them. He moved the bed so it was under the window and sideways so Tony would be cradled under the window sill, which had steel casings in this hotel (yes, he had checked). He also dismantled all the lights in the bedroom other than the bathroom but left instructions to turn it off as soon as possible, let Steve answer the door, don't eat anything from room service, and do not leave the room for any reason.
He then took off to where Tony would be speaking the next day. He was not happy. The podium was in the middle of a freakin' park, there were about a billion places for even a mediocre sniper to hide and too many to count for a good one. But it was his job to keep Stark safe so he started at one end and went to the other. He checked trees, set cameras on roof tops, counted open windows and cross referenced them with the tenants for those window. He reinforced the podium with Kevlar and set up cameras so SHIELD could monitor the crowd for known suspicious persons. His final task was to figure out where to set his own snipers when they got there the next day.
By the time it was done, it was nearly 5 in the morning and if he was lucky he could get back to the hotel and catch 2 hours of sleep before he had to come back and get the police and FBI co ordinate. He jogged back, annoyed that he hadn't even gotten a shower since he came back from Cambodia, nor had he gotten any sex, which really pissed him off. Fuck Fury for interrupting him and Natasha that morning and fuck Tony too for not answering his damn phone. He should let the man get shot in the leg just to prove a point.
He arrived at the hotel and knocked on the door for Rogers to let him in. The man turned on the light by the door and checked the peep hole to be met by Barton's pistol. "Don't turn the light on before you check who is on the other side. Your head blocking the light just told me exactly where to shoot," he scolded the pajama clad man, but pushed past him to collapse on the couch. He didn't bother changing clothes or pulling out the bed, just reholstered his gun and tucked his knife under the pillow. He was asleep before Steve even turned the light off.
He woke up the next morning to the feeling of someone near him. Roger's super human reflexes were the only reason he didn't have a 6 inch knife sticking out of neck. "Woah, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Steve started as they both shakily came down from their adrenaline highs.
Clint didn't bother to apologize. If these fools hadn't learned not to touch him and Tasha when they were sleeping, then frankly any injury was their own faults. He looked at the clock and noticed it was five to seven. He signed at the loss of 5 minutes of sleep but got up to rummage around in his bag for fresh clothes. "You mind if I grab a shower?" he asked as an olive branch for almost stabbing his squad leader.
"No, go ahead. I was going to see if you wanted me to order you anything for breakfast?" Steve asked and Clint was struck at how different they were. Steve was such a nice guy, and so caring. They were both soldiers but it was like comparing the class of Marlene Dietrich to Paris Hilton. Yes they did the same job but times had changed so much that it was barely recognizable. He only wished he could be like Captain America, that innocent and that clean.
"No, I'll grab something on my way over. Don't get anything for Stark either. Stop someplace random on the way and make sure you see it prepared from common food. Also make sure he has pre wrapped straw and that the wrapper hasn't been compromised," he instructed as he shrugged out of his jacket and kicked off his boots. It was easy to poison the rim of a cup but harder to poison a straw and not have the wrapper be visibly altered.
"Sure, Barton, I'll make sure," he assured as Clint went to shower.
It took him exactly 6 minutes to finish showering, brushing his teeth, shaving, and getting dressed. When he emerged, there was still no sound from Tony and Pepper's room but Rogers was dressed in a plain blue suit that made him look quite handsome. Ok, maybe Clint also admired the man's looks a little too. He wondered how long it would be before Nat left his bed for Steve's. He ignored the thought though, because it had nothing to do with the mission.
"Rogers, get him there no earlier than 5 minutes before his speech. I want him sitting directly behind the podium, I moved a chair there. You need to stay on his left, that's the most likely place a sniper will fire from. Also, when you guys leave, order a limo and two cabs. Take the first one but loop around and come in from the north. Send the other one to come in from the West, the direction of his original hotel. As he walks in, keep your eyes above or below the photographers, don't let the flashes dazzle your vision. It's easy to hide a gun in a sea of flashing cameras. If anything goes down, get him under the podium," he finished as he checked his two pistols, one on his leg and one under his arm, and his hidden knives. No one was supposed to know he was there so no using his bow.
"Where will you be?" Rogers asked, looking stunned.
"I'll meet you there. I'll be on the right side of the podium, behind Tony." He explained as he made his way to the door, tucking his hat and sunglasses into his jacket pocket.
"Barton, how do you know how to do all this, I didn't learn any of that in the Army?" Steve looked so honest in his question.
"Different time and different area of expertise," he answered and left. Sometimes he really wanted to tell the man to wake up and realize what he and Natasha did for SHIELD but now wasn't the time. Steve was so moral, he was afraid he might ask to have them kicked off the Avengers. He would be ambivalent to it but he knew Tash enjoyed working with them.
He jogged back to the park, enjoying the early morning air and the chance to stretch the kinks out of his joints. By the time he reach the area of operation, he was warm, loose, and alert. He spoke with the police and FBI heads and had men placed at specific intervals throughout the crowds and the buildings around them. Local area law enforcement was always such a pain to deal with. Coulson had always been so much better at it than him. Oh well, now there was nothing to do but watch and wait.
He watched every person that filtered in and radioed to have a few checked. So far he had caught several cans of red paint meant for Stark, along with a bag of dog shit, he almost let that one through, and a Molotov cocktail that had been meant for the speaker before Tony. Seriously what was wrong with America today? He also continually scanned the windows and trees within a quarter mile for anything strange. Thus far, there was nothing but a good sniper wouldn't show till right before they fired or they had been set up since before he arrived last night.
He slipped towards the back of the stage as the speakers began arriving and radioed to Cap to see where they were. Apparently they were running late because Tony wanted waffles. That guy was so fucking spoilt it boggled his mind. He couldn't remember a time in his life where he regularly got a choice as to what he wanted to eat. You ate what was given to you or you didn't eat at all. That was how he was raised and couldn't understand someone so privileged as Stark. Later he learned that food was fuel and taste could be ignored in favor of content, especially the hungrier you got. But then again, Natasha was always telling him that he needed to learn to enjoy the finer things so maybe it was him that was weird.
He saw them arrive just as the head of professor from Berkley was ending and he kept his eyes scanning for any movement. Tony took the stage to a giant round of applause as Pepper settled in the front row to watch him. He tuned out Stark's speech and watched buildings. There was a newly opened window that caught his eye, "building 2, 7th floor 3rd window to the left, anybody have eyes in there?" he asked on the open frequency? Why couldn't this have been in Houston or LA? Old cities like Chicago and New York had windows that opened, flat roofs, and fire escapes. Trying to kill someone here was child's play it took a true professional to pull off a distant hit in a locked down city of glass like Houston.
He grabbed a laser pointer and shined it towards the window to see if he could catch a reflection, there was nothing. There was however movement in building 3. "Cap, get him down now!" he shouted, just as the shot bounced of Roger's shield. As he dropped and rolled, he drew his pistol and knelt, aiming at the shooter. He fired twice, ignoring the screams and frantic movement of the crowds. He was rewarded with a rifle dropping from the window. His sensitive vision caught a slight reflection from building 1, a sight being opened, and he fired, hitting the muzzle of the gun and no doubt giving the sniper a broken zygomatic and collar bone.
He turned to Steve, "keep him and Pepper here, I'll be back," he then took off running towards building 1, shouting orders to the police to blockade the building. Before they could, a man with a bloody nose and an already swelling eye came running out, tossing a duffle bag in a dumpster. The police tried to stop him but they were too slow, Clint on the other hand got close enough to shoot him in the back of the calf and drop him cold. He caught up with him, as the police were cuffing him. He smiled to himself and radioed his partner, who was running the investigation side, "Romanov, I have a present for you," he told her and went to make sure the guy was turned over to SHIELD.
TBC