Different Call (Clintasha)

Chpt. 2 - Hawkeye

Clint

When I ran away from the orphanage and joined the circus all those years ago, I would have never imagined where it would take me. Clint Barton: "Hawkeye". I'm a master marksman and by that I mean you'll never find anyone to rival me. I'm also apparently skilled at hand to hand combat and a weapons specialist. I never really thought of myself like that but, hey, who's to argue with the records. I remember a couple years ago when I met director fury and he offered to take me in and give me meals and shelter in exchange for my services. Of course a homeless kid would accept his offer. Now I found myself years later sitting across from him in the same chair being the given my most deadly mission.

He slid a plastic coated folder across the table, fingers lingering on the document's cover. The red letters "classified" shimmered and reflected the twilight city scape back at me. Although I'm a reliable agent I had never been the most elite in shield. Other agents have powers and so naturally I'm not your first choice for a mission, especially when it's one that threatens the entirety of shield.

"So are you in or out? I'm sorry to put you in this position Agent Barton but you really don't have a choice." Fury stated and I knew what he meant. They already supported me on a financial basis for a couple years before I made it my duty to repay them but even though my debt is almost non-existent now, I'm still under oath to accept any mission. Refusing would get me revoked from shield and nobody gets out of shield unscathed, even an ex agent.

"Black Widow, sir?" I responded, taking the folder from his hands as his fingers slid away from the cover and opening it, flipping through the pages.

"She's a professional assassin and an imminent threat to shield. So far she's the top of her kind apart from the 'Winter Soldier' and we still haven't confirmed his existence."

"So you want me to neutralize her before she can cause any real damage?"

"Barton, she's already caused some very 'real' damage to shield. Normally we don't do this but this isn't a rescue mission, she needs to be killed."

"What makes you sure it's a she or that it's not even a trap? No name, no information... I mean the closest thing we have to a picture is a dot in the mountains of Munich. This is a risky mission"

"And you have the skills to hunt her down."

"What makes you think that?" . I'm literally the most average agent you have.

"Your skillset matches her's"

"So you're saying I'll make the show interesting."

"I'm saying that you will be able to predict her actions. You have same training from what we know and your marksmanship gives you the needed edge."

I didn't buy it.

"What do we know?"

"That there's a plane waiting for you and it has two destinations, hers, or the street where we found you."

"God, fury you're always such a hardass," I joked to cover anxiety at the thought of returning to the gutter.He looked at me unimpressed by my language... As if he's a prime example.

"You have 5 hours to pack for the weather of Sonich. The plane will be waiting at our aerodrome and you better be there." I nod. "All the equipment you'll need will be there. Upon boarding you'll receive a debrief and be dropped 500m from where we spotted her last. From there you're on your own. They have radio scanners so no comms this time."

"Right. I'll look through this," I said as I held up the folder, getting out of my chair. I sighed heavily before hesitantly continuing. "No chance I could bail is there? I mean I know you're not a man of emotion but if it's worth anything I really don't think I'm the man for this mission...."

"Barton, sit down." He responded harshly and I quickly complied to his orders, shoving myself back into the seat of the chair with a thud and sitting quietly waiting for him to continue. "You're the only person for this. I assure you if there was someone else I would send them instead."

Although his last sentence should have been offensive I found myself letting the implied insult wash over me. I've been told that I'm not good enough my whole life, this is no different except for that this time I agreed. I looked out the window seeing my face reflected back at me. The sky was significantly darker and the sun had finally rested beneath the horizon making me wonder how long I'd been here. I looked down at my feet feeling like a child in a principle's office.

"Sir, I apologize for saying this here but I feel like this is going to get me killed." I waited for a second, avoiding eye contact and anticipating a fit but instead the man sitting in front of me stayed silent.

After several uncomfortable minutes he rose from his seat and I mirrored him, raising my eyebrow. He sighed and rubbed his head.

"I have no control over what happens to you. Be at the plane and all I can say is good luck. Now get out of my office." I looked at the floor disappointed.

"Yessir." I said sternly and turned on my heals. The glass room disappeared behind me as I quickly walked into the hallway. I headed straight downstairs and moments later found myself in my room. The bed was soft against my cheek as I fell face first into the covers. My mind buzzed with all the possibilities. What if I die? What if she gets information? What if I sacrifice shield? Coincidentally, none of my thoughts passed over the possibility that I could succeed. There was no possible way that an amateur like me could take on a Russian assassin and live to tell the tale. Let alone kill them. I lay there for a couple moments longer before I pushed myself up and stuffed a small dufflebag full with the very few personal belongings I had. It was then that I decided that the only way this mission would work was all or nothing.