Of The Wolves And The Orphans

The Brass

I'm back at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters after having seen Loki being transported to Asguard with Thor for his sentence. Now I am having an argument with one of the techs.

"Ryan, I need an override to protocol 34. I need this face trace and now."

"I might lose my job if I do this!"

"You'll lose a lot more than you job if you don't," I respond threateningly. The nervous geek in front of me wrings is hands, knowing the truth of my statement. His spikey hair quivers and I can see him quaking in his knitted cardigan and owl glasses. "Remember, you owe me. I won't let this come back to you anyways."

He pauses. "So this is off the books?"

"Yep, just you and me."

"And they won't trace it back to me?" he asks, uncertain.

"Sure," I shrug.

"Fine, but only because I owe you for that one time and this isn't happening again," he says, snapping the picture of the girl from my hands.

"Whatever Copernicus," I hiss before leaving the computer facility. I had gotten the picture from a feed on a camera on my bow. S.H.I.E.L.D. has all the toys.

With the recourses the geek has, there's no way she can stay completely hidden for long. Besides, she obviously made her living off thieving so it shouldn't be too long before she shows up on the radar.

Keira's P.O.V.

It had been two weeks now. I was finally out of hiding. My leg was healing as well as it could, but I have a very visible limp and an angry red burn running down my leg still. I wore jeans and long pants to cover the bandages, but that didn't do much since my limp was a big give away. I walk through the streets of New York, heading to my next hideout. The hole in the wall is nice, but a little cliché. After all, it's not like I'm some criminal off the streets. Well, the police force would beg to differ, but who cares about them.

I'm in the better part of town, definitely a place that would be noticed as a prime spot for a person on the 'Most Wanted' list. I trot up the steps of a cute, yellow bungalow house and pull the key from under the door mat. After a bit a jimmying, I step inside. It is not overly furnished, but light and airy with an open floor plan and cute window treatments. Light colors are everywhere, making it seem like it is sunny inside. Plush, comfy couches are positioned in front of a large flat screened TV. I toss the key onto the kitchen nook table, making myself at home. I just have to wait for tonight when I'm going to make my daily thieving rounds. I might be a little incapacitated, but no one has been able to catch me so far and I need some more clothes and money. I'm betting I'll be fine.

Hawkeye's P.O.V.

I am getting frustrated. It has been two weeks and no sign of the girl. No amateur has been able to stay away from S.H.I.E.L.D. that long. I just have to wait, and that is something I'm good at.

I'm at the target practice with my bow. Breathe in, breathe out, release, phhht. Bullseye.

I never miss. Ever. The pattern repeats itself and I find something soothing about its rhythm.

Suddenly my pager beeps. I'm needed in the computer facility. He's found her. I pack up my bow and head over through the maze of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.

I reach the door and lean in, letting it scan my face. A female mechanic voice speaks.

"Agent confirmed."

The door opens and I stride in. The geek is waiting by the door with a file in his hands. He holds it out to me and I take it, flipping it open.

"She showed up on our radar just now. She apparently had some fun at a bank and a clothing store. A bit odd if you ask me, but another fact, she's on the most wanted list of New York for all her burglaries. They never got complete footage of her, but the description is definitely her. I was able to hack into the security feed and get a view, but she is amazingly good at avoiding cameras, or at least hiding her face from them. I matched her silhouette the one of your picture, and it is an identical match."

The geek babbles on as I skim over the file he pulled up from the picture I gave him. I have the location and now her past. The geek's next words snap me out of my reading.

"There is one problem though. I found that file in the deceased. Her date of death was July 19th, 2010," he points at the bottom of the file to where her date of birth and date of death are together.

"So this means that you are either looking for a ghost, literally, or this person is a pro, or she has the help of pros. Why would she want herself to disappear?"

"No idea Geek, but I'm sure as hell going to find out," I respond grimly.

"Are you now? Because I don't remember giving any authorization for this juncture," says a new voice behind me. I wince a little, shooting the Geek a dirty glare. He cowers.

"I had to tell the director. I could've lost my job!" he defends himself. I promise with my eyes that I'm going to make him pay for it later, slowly and painfully.

"Agent Barton, let's have a talk," Director Fury says. I turn and find his one eye studying me with a calculated look. I nod curtly and move to the door.

The Director follows me out into the hall and I hear the door slide shut behind us. No one is here, so I stop and look at him expectantly. The Director places his hands behind his back as if debating how to approach this.

"Agent Barton, I would like to know your interest in this kid, for kid she is."

I debate in turn, trying the word I'm about to say, testing them and seeing how they sound before answering. "I saved her life during Loki's war. I saved her because I saw talent. I saw all the traits needed to make an assassin like Romanoff, but I saw the qualities needed to make a soldier as well. She could be a valuable asset to S.H.I.E.L.D. with the right training. I saw talent in the raw. She is only fifteen, is on the Most Wanted list of New York, granted she is at the bottom, but they haven't so much as caught a facial of her, she faked her death so her real identity isn't even a possibility of being suspected."

I pause to see his reaction. He seems to be considering my proposal.

"So you basically want to train her as your protégé?"

"More or less sir, but she is undoubtedly off the street, in need of a better life, in a perfect position for S.H.I.E.L.D. to offer her a place."

He pauses again before answering, "Very well Barton, I'll follow your lead on this, but if this goes south, it will be blamed on you."

"Understood," I respond.

"Good, now get on a transport and out of here," the Director dismisses me. I nod and walk off, heading straight for the hanger. The girl, or Keira Matheson as the file said, will not have long before she gets a surprise.