Ghost - An Avengers Fanfiction

Chapter 2

Sorry I haven't updated in so long! School has been hectic, but of course that is not an excuse. I've decided to try spend more of my spare time to write this, and once I get the first few chapters done, hopefully the story starts to flow more quickly! Thanks for your patience and support! I welcome any opinions, thoughts, criticism (please play nice :P ) and any ideas! This is a short chapter, but it's kind of important to lead into the next lot of chapters. I will try to get the next chapter done as soon as possible! Enjoy!   - Ruby

=============================================================================

The penthouse was silent, except for the gentle pattering of rain against the large glass windows. Clint frowned at the silence. He had convinced himself that this plan would work, but after sitting underneath the bar in Tony’s penthouse for the last four and a half hours, he realised that it was a long shot. Clint thought he had found a pattern to the Ghost Thief’s ventures. Something that Clint found odd was the timing of the Thief’s robberies. He would hit three places three days apart, but would then wait two weeks before robbing another three places. There was also no discrimination in location. Each lot of robberies took place in different cities, and sometimes different countries. Hollywood, San Francisco, Madrid, Berlin, Malibu, Paris, Montreal, Shanghai and now New York. The Ghost Thief would only hit the homes of the three riches people in each city. That’s why Clint was currently hiding in Tony’s penthouse. He was of course the richest man in New York, but he had not received a visit from the Ghost Thief yet. However, Clint was having doubts. He really needed this to work. Since the Battle of New York, and Clint’s time as one of Loki’s henchmen, this had been the first big assignment he’s had, and Director Fury’s impatience was bothering Clint. He felt that he wasn’t seen as a capable agent anymore, and he still felt the need to regain the trust of S.H.I.E.L.D. Delivering the Ghost Thief to Director Fury would, in his mind, help restore his reputation and would help him get back into the job.  A sudden noise behind him pulled Clint from his thoughts and made him sit up straighter, his hand hovering over the gun that was nestled in the holster on his leg. Clint would’ve felt more comfortable with his bow, but even he had to admit that a gun was more practical for the situation. There was a mirror behind the shelving on the wall of the bar opposite him, and Clint used that to look out into the darkened penthouse. A dark figure was standing in the middle of the living room, back towards Clint. The Thief glanced around, and apparently satisfied, began grabbing objects and stuffing them into the black backpack. Clint reached up to the comms unit in his ear and murmured “Move in.” Instantly, three agents appeared from their various hiding spots, and moved silently toward the figure. Clint remained hidden. As much as he wanted to be the one to take down the Ghost Thief, after spending so much time on this case, Clint knew that, as the best marksman, he needed to act as back up. The youngest of the three agents, a lanky, eager young man called Larson, was moving quicker than the other two, and in his excitement he happened to brush past a vase. Clint silently cursed and watched in helplessly as the vase teetered on the edge of the table, threatening to fall and alert the Thief. Larson’s eyes widened in horror as he reached out to stop the vase from smashing to the ground. After silently fumbling about with the vase, he finally managed to get a grip on the smooth glass item. Through the mirror, Clint could see the young agent grin in relief. However, he grinned too soon. The vase seemed to just slip out of his hands and smashed against the ground, the sound obnoxious in the silence. The Ghost Thief froze. Then all hell broke loose.