The New York Assignment

Eleven

"This is it," Barbra said, stopping outside of an old warehouse.

Clint cursed under his breath. Why did it always have to be warehouses? He climbed out of the car and opened the trunk, pulling out his bow and making sure he had enough arrows.

"Stick close to-" He looked up and didn't see Barbra anywhere. Great. "Morse!" He hissed as loud as he dared.

She appeared right next to the building, motioning for him to remain quiet and follow her. He put an arrow on the string, and followed her inside.

As he expected, it was dark. Once his eyes adjusted, he could see stacks of wooden crates. Cracks in the ceiling let in more light than the dirt-caked windows. The shadows were eerie. Narrow isles between boxes offered little room to move around. The loading door at the far end was almost definitely locked, and it was safe to assume only one way out.

He saw Morse leap nimbly up on a pile of crates. She jumped from one stack to the next, avoiding the enclosed spaces of the isles. Admiring her agility, Clint followed suit.

He jumped across the boxes with superb balance. That trapeze training had done him good, it would seem. Keeping an arrow determinedly on the string, he looked around. Much better. He preferred heights.

A scuffle to his left drew his attention. A dark shape passed between two crates. He went after it. He was nearly there when a sharp scream tore through the compound, echoing off the walls, disorienting him. But echo or no echo, he knew that scream.

He broke into a sprint in the opposite direction. He could hear a blow of flesh on flesh.

"CLINT!" Bobbi screamed.

Blood rushed in his ears. He reached the back of the building and saw two shapes struggling in a corner. Clint could discern Bobbi's figure from the other, and aimed the arrow. With a familiar thunk, it plunged through the man's neck.

He jumped from the stack of crates and reached Morse. "Bobbi, are you okay!?" he demanded.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm- LOOK OUT!"

Clint turned and caught another figure in the head. It was too dark to see anything clearly. Shapes descended like something from a nightmare. He shot another two before he was fighting hand-to-hand.

A dull blow fell on the back of his head, and complete darkness claimed him.

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"We got a hit!" Tony announced.

The four others crowded around the screen. A red dot blinked above the center of the Reflecting Pool in Washington DC.

"The heck?" Edith muttered. "I think your thing's broken, Stark."

"Maybe he went for a swim?" Tony offered.

"There are tunnels," Phil said. "SHIELD had them built, but they've been closed for decades."

"That must be where he's been all these years," Steve added. "Right under SHIELD's nose."

"Then that's where we're going," Natasha said.

Steve nodded in agreement. "Suit up."

"Your orders, Agent Romanoff?" Coulson asked. He wore a small, but proud smile. They all knew who was in charge of the operation.

She looked at them each in turn, thinking of how best they could help. "Stark, scan underground and get us a schematic of the compound. Coulson, you and Edith inform Fury of our progress and handle the DC police department, FBI, Homeland, and whoever else might have questions. Steve, you sick with me." She paused. "Like the Captain said, suit up!"

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Author's Note:

I don't usually do these, but I'm making an exception. I need input on how to end the story. I've got two ideas, I just need help deciding on whether or not our two favorite assassins make up and end up together. I will not necessarily go along with your votes; Just give me an idea of what you guys want to see.

Also let me know any ideas you have for future scenes. What would you guys like to see happen in later chapters?

Thanks! I love you guys!

-Callie