Chapter 3: Forte de Fennestrelle - Northwest Italy

Engulfed in a thin evening mist, Fennestrelle Fortress stretched up into the Andes Mountains with only the shining lights of distant buildings to trace the structure up more than a mile. It was built into the steppes of the mountain, like the staircase of some mythical giant. To get from level to level, one had to climb a staircase stretching the length of the massive structure. Morris was captivated by the beauty of it- these humans certainly had some redeeming qualities- architecture first and foremost. Perhaps when his master was finished with this land he could claim Fennestrelle as his reward and bring in his slaves to restore the place to its former grandeur.

But for now Morris had work to do. Fennestrelle was a tourist destination for the mortals, they didn't know a former SHIELD base- now controlled by Hydra- still operated in its depths. Unfortunately for the agents who guarded the fortress, Morris' mission required no allegiance to either organization. His master had set to him a task, and while Hydra may benefit from his work he could risk no word of his plans reaching the Avengers (who strangely enough were now playing farmers in the middle of nowhere).

Morris flashed his Hydra credentials to each guard he approached. As soon as he passed them, he fired two shots into the back of their heads. The silencer on his handgun kept things quiet, and his path to the prisoner was swift.

Just as he had done with Albatross, Morris entered the dungeon quickly, and wasted no time in finding his prisoner.

The man was easy enough to track down- a horrific scar marred one side of his face, but otherwise he looked immensely familiar.

"Trickshot, I presume?" This one was in isolation- no witnesses to kill. He could speak frankly.

"Haven't been called that in some time," there was the barest hint of a northeast accent. The man's hands flexed, like he was readying for a fight.

"I'm curious- it was SHIELD who brought you in, correct?"

The side of his nose wrinkled into a half-snarl, "Natasha Romanoff. Though she was barely SHIELD back then."

Morris nodded, "She's caused quite a bit of trouble on their behalf. If SHIELD imprisoned you, what reason does Hydra have to continue to detain you?"

"You know, I think they don't trust me." he twirled a blade of straw between two fingers.

"Family," Morris smirked, "just because your blood is the same does not mean you are the same. Some people just don't understand that."

"Our blood isn't the same," he spat, "hasn't been for a long time, as far as I'm concerned."

Morris checked his watch- the bodies could be discovered soon and he wanted to get this moving, "I have a proposition for you."

"Let me guess," Trickshot swung his legs off of the stone ledge that served as his bunk and hunched over to face Morris, "I agree to kill Clint Barton, you let me go."

"More or less. You'll be allowed the killing blow, just as you've always wanted, but only when I say so. Things have changed- he has powerful friends now. To topple them, you and the rest of my friends have to work together."

Trickshot considered it for a long time, "No one touches Barton but me?"

"I know what he did to you and what you did to ready yourself to get revenge. Natasha stole that from you, locked you away in here before you could get within a thousand miles of him. He deserves what's coming, and you deserve to deliver him to Death itself. You have my word that you, and only you, will take his life." Morris let his words hang in the air for a moment, "Now, do we have a deal, Mr. Barton?"

"Please," he leaned forward with a sly grin and shook Morris' hand through the bars, "call me Berny."

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I got most of the chapter written this morning and managed to get some finishing touches done after the festivities- so you got one today after all! (Maybe 2, I've had a lot of coffee).