The Los Angeles Operation

Sixteen

Two days later, Clint was showing Barbara how to track covert criminals. She was paying much more attention to him than what he was showing her. Natasha walked in the room. 

“I’ve found the base!” she exclaimed. 

Clint looked up at her. “Where?” 

“Suit up,” was her reply. “And meet me at the car.” 

Clint and Barbara wasted no time in slipping into their SHIELD uniforms. They ran down to the parking lot. 

Natasha was already behind the wheel of the car. Clint climbed into the passenger’s seat and Morse in the back seat. 

“Where’re we going?” Clint asked. 

Natasha revved the engine. She waited until they were out of the parking lot before answering. “A home on the outskirts of LA.” 

“How’d you find them?” 

She glanced at him. “What does it matter, as long as I found them?” 

“Tasha…?” 

Natasha didn’t say anything. She kept her eyes fixed on the road. 

“Natasha, what were you doing yesterday?” 

“Finding our targets.” 

“How?” 

“It doesn’t matter, as long as we get the job done, right?” 

“Wrong. Tell me.” 

Natasha kept her mouth shut. 

Clint touched a cut on the side of her head. “What happened that you don’t want me knowing about?” 

“I killed several dozen people!” Natasha snapped. “In cold blood! You happy now!?” 

Clint paused. He swallowed hard and asked, “Were they innocent?” 

“Some of them may have been.” 

Clint groaned. 

“I killed a dozen innocent people to save millions! I did what had to be done.” 

“Killing innocent people wasn’t necessary,” Morse piped up. 

“No one asked for your moral opinion, Morse,” Natasha barked. 

“I know. I gave it freely.” 

Natasha could have retorted, but chose not to. There was too much at stake. 

“Morse, shut up,” Clint said. 

“Morality is relative,” Natasha said. 

“No, it’s not!” Barbara snapped. 

“To those of us who weren’t born on a velvet pillow and had everything handed to them on a silver platter it is.” 

“I did not-“

“Morse, I would advise you to be quiet,” Clint said. 

Thankfully, Barbara shut up. 

“Nat, why didn’t you just tell me?” Barton asked. 

“I did tell you,” Natasha replied. “I just didn’t want to.” 

Clint reached over to take her hand. “Natasha, what you didn’t doesn’t-“ 

Natasha pulled her hand from Clint’s grasp. “Don’t do that.” 

Clint sighed. “Fine.”