A Different Call

11. Interrogation

  "Never assume your target is dead. Always check for proof."

Natalia felt the irony now, standing over the burning debris of her handers' graves. One by one, she found each of their crushed, scorched corpses and crossed the names off her mental list. More blood gushing from her ledger.

This wasn't just a precaution, she had to do this. She needed to. As each of the women who had tortured her and stolen her childhood and identity were confirmed to be dead, Natalia didn't feel peace, but she did feel... release. They couldn't hurt her or any more innocent girls ever again.

She didn't check the other destroyed building. If she was to be in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody, Natalia didn't need to know if the trainees had survived. It would be easier for them to start a new life if they were off S.H.I.E.L.D. radar.

Barton watched and waited from a distance, allowing her to do what she needed.

At last, Natalia had her confirmations and could stall no longer. Carefully, she climbed out of the wreckage, avoiding the flames and cutting edges, and joined the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

  "You ready?" he asked in a voice that was tired and rough from inhaling smoke. Not trusting her own voice, Natalia nodded in answer.

Despite her personal endurance, Natalia sighed in relief when the device in Clint's hand reminded her they won't have to walk back to the Quinjet. In a few moments, a humming noise grew louder as the aircraft soared above them. It landed flawlessly a safe distance away and lowered its ramp invitingly for the weary assassins.

One foot on the edge, Natalia hesitated. To board the Quinjet was to surrender herself to S.H.I.E.L.D. Her fate would be in their hands, her penance up to their judgement. Her freedom could end the moment it began.

But where else would she go? Not back, back to them. She can only move forward. If Barton's offer was genuine, this could be the way to wipe out her ledger. If they refused to recruit her, then she deserved whatever justice dealt her.

Clint waited just inside, watching her. He said nothing and made no move to hurry her along. Comforted by this, Natalia entered the ship. The door sealed shut behind them.

The moment after Clint punched in the coordinates and the Quinjet started its course, the med kit was popped open on the floor between the two assassins. Accompanied by the hum of the engines, they exchanged bandage rolls, needles, tweezers, antiseptic, and other medical supplies in silence.

Silence usually made Natalia uncomfortable, but this was different. It was... rather calming. She didn't have many peaceful moments with people. With Barton sitting across from her, handing her a bottle of disinfect, Natalia thought it was nice having a potential ally, healing instead of killing. If she was to be locked away forever or executed at worst, she was glad to have known a good man like Clint Barton.

  "It's seven hours until we reach our destination," announced Clint, breaking the silence. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

  Natalia smirked grimly. "Well, it's not like I have a choice."

  "What if I gave you one?"

Natalia stared at him and noticed the wince as he pulled a glass shard from his palm. Surprise faded enough for her to hand him a bandage soaked in disinfect to mop up the blood.

  "What if–" he continued, accepting the cloth gratefully and wiping his hand– "I was to make a stop along the way. What if I came home empty handed, and I tell my superiors I failed my mission." Barton took his eyes off his injury to look into hers. There was no deception in them.