Chapter Text
Clint had promised his kids they would go to Disney World that summer. He had the fondest of memories going to Florida with it’s warm sun and many beaches. The people were friendly too. Since Nathaniel was a good age for travel, they’d planned the best vacation for weeks.
Just to have each plan destroyed. His kids were almost as upset as he was.
Getting shipped out to the Ukraine was absolutely the opposite of what he’d planned for his summer. Stuck in a S.H.I.E.L.D. base, in a freaking meeting room, fiddling with his bow, and eyeing each new and young agent that walked past him. At least he was in Ukraine during the summer time. It was warm, just not as friendly as Florida.
The Florida sun and beaches sounded pretty great right about now.
He didn’t necessarily even have to be there. He could’ve declined the mission. He could’ve even ignored the call that had changed his plans. But instead, he had picked up the call from Phil Coulson, listened for the details and, of course, the risks of the mission, and took the job. It wasn’t often that S.H.I.E.L.D. called him nowadays and whenever they did, it was always important. And it did sound serious. Clint took the mission.
He was sure Coulson always knew he’d take it. Too late to regret now.
He slouched in his chair, kicking his feet up on the table as he watched the room. Plenty of agents packed the space, talking loudly and somehow enjoying each other’s company. Guns and suits passed Clint up and down the room, each face of the agent calm but official. Small desks after desks filled the expanse and each agent had a seat, though most had abandoned them to talk with their buddies before the meeting began.
As always, Clint hated these moments. He’d rather have the mission given to him with a few comments and maybe a map and off he would go. But this mission would take a full fledge meeting with agents asking questions, orders given, and then the agents would likely leave in the evening. Clint didn’t like having his time wasted. Especially since he'd given up quite a bit to be there.
Clint leaned back so his chair was pushed against the table behind him. He played with his bow, sliding his calloused fingers along the string, picking some dirt off. A twin of agents looked him over, one looking confused, the other looking amused. Ah, yes, the looks he had been getting since arriving at the base. He was a retired agent, a retired Avenger. Either a famed hero to some or practically an old man to others. He didn’t care what they thought of him. He was only there to get a job done. He ignored their looks and instead studied the room again. Security cameras hung on each corner, speakers extended from the ceiling. The place was serious. S.H.I.E.L.D. had built itself back up since being destroyed with HYDRA years ago. Clint hadn’t expected it to make such a comeback, though. Especially in just a small place like that.
“Alright, men, look alive,” one man called, making his way down the aisle of desks.He was dressed in a dark suit, which was unbuttoned, revealing the holster against his ribs. His beard was dark and cut short, obviously paid enough attention to. Clint didn’t recognize him, but he wasn’t surprised. There were hardly any more agents from his time. They had been either HYDRA or were now retired, like himself.
The room hushed as the man stood in the front, sliding his hand along one of the hologram screens, awakening the computer. Agents found seats and files were passed along as the meeting begin. A paper binder was slid across Clint’s table. “Agent Barton,” the agent acknowledged, before moving to the next table. Clint nodded back and pulled his legs off the table, dropping his bow on it instead. He pulled the file closer to himself and the agent slowly walked away. Clint sighed as he opened the file, frowning down at the content. Alexander Smirnov’s picture stared back at him. Ugh.
“Plenty of you already have a hand in this mission,” the agent started, looking back at the hologram screens. “It’s been a grueling last eight months getting to this point. We’re pulling in reinforcements now.” He turned back to the crowd. “And we’re lucky to be getting some of the best. Including, Agent Barton who has joined us today.”
Clint lifted his head. Joined? More like called in. Ordered in. You don’t have to take the mission. His wife had said it to him that morning. But he knew by Coulson’s tone. He was needed. He was the best marksmen, one of the best agents. They couldn’t get on without him. Especially since he now knew Smirnov was involved. “You got me.”
“Agent Samuel Hendricks,” he said, moving across the room to extend his hand to Clint’s. Clint shook it as Hendricks nodded. “Director Coulson thought you’d be the best candidate for this new job.”
“Well…” Clint folded his fingers together. “Lets just get this over with, then.”
Hendricks face somewhat hardened. He lifted his head, staring over Clint as if he was a child. “I’d like to remind you, Agent Barton, we can never push to finish these missions to our own stopwatch.”
“Oh, you can’t?” Clint prodded, his eyebrows raised, bringing creases to his forehead.
“We hired you back for a specific job, Agent. Since this is a job we can’t do without the best, we’ll be sure to give you the worthy challenges and make the time worth your while. We hope not to disappoint,” he sneered. Well, in his defense, Clint had been the one to start it. At least, he was acting the leader and taking the challenge head on. He was the higher rank, after all, and he had nothing to prove to Clint Barton.
Clint barely smiled. “I hope so too.”
The room became silent as the two men stared at each other. Finally someone coughed and papers were shuffled and Hendricks broke the stare first. He looked around the room before moving back towards his desk. “Alexander Smirnov. Russian scientists, operative terrorist. Speciality?” Hendricks stood behind his desk and looked back to Clint. “Enhancement. Specifically of human beings. He’s been working on the border of the Ukraine and Russia in the last thirty years.” He passed his finger over the computer, revealing other pictures and articles from thirty years past on the hologram screens.“He worked alongside Ivan Petrovitch in the Red Room, creating the serum and assisting in the training of their women assassins.” He stopped for a moment but Clint focused on the papers in his file. He lifted one article after the other, finding most of the information Hendricks talked of. A weird feeling swirled in his stomach. “You know him, Agent Barton.”
Clint lifted his head and shrugged. “Well, never went toe to toe with him.” Hendricks didn’t say anything but he still stared. Clint cleared his throat and leaned his elbows on the table, curling his fingers together. “I’ve seen first hand what his science projects are capable of.” He glanced around the room. “It’s no secret Natasha Romanoff was the Red Room’s greatest weapon.” He frowned and glanced down at his file. “But Smirnov went missing after the Red Room was dismantled. Surely he’s… well, far too old to be doing anymore… damage.”
“That was only ever a hope, Agent Barton,” Hendricks said, turning back the large screens behind him. “S.H.I.E.L.D. has infiltrated a dozen organizations in the last five years. We’ve found files, loose-lipped sources, bank accounts all pointing back to Smirnov. He’s been working in the shadows for years.” Hendricks stared back to his team. “And he’s just been breaking the surface for his capabilities.”
“He has an army?” one agent asked.
Hendricks shook his head. “Army? No, no. But he has a team. Over the years, he’s gained enough people working for him and there’s no doubt someone’s paying him for his research. He could and will get enough buyers looking for the next Black Widows once his work is complete. And he would never stop by then.”
“Is he still taking the same approach in his research?” Clint asked, tapping his thumb against the papered binder. “Kids?”
Hendricks nodded. “It’s said he’s always believed only a child could accept his serum. The serum mixes with the DNA and matures as does the child. By then, they’re deadly.”
“That’s why all Red Room agents start out as young girls,” Clint added. “Pumped up and trained from childhood. I’m afraid Smirnov’s philosophy hasn't been proven wrong yet: all of his projects are deadly by the end.”
“Except by something like the Project Rebirth,” a woman agent said from the back. Steve Rogers had been injected with the super soldier serum in the 1940’s. He’d been a grown man and his body had changed dramatically, with no deathly effects. Nothing had been seen like it before and nothing had been seen like it since. He was the exception. Thankfully it was Steve Rogers and not some crazed Russian who got the serum.
“As far as we know, Smirnov is lightyears away from Vita-rays,” Hendricks replied.
“Here’s hoping,” an agent muttered. It became still and stiff in the room. Clint cursed under his breath. It was always the worst part of a mission when you were following a ghost. No one was sure what Smirnov was capable of after thirty years of time. He could be so many step ahead of S.H.I.E.L.D. and they couldn’t be sure until they were face to face with him.
“So,” Hendricks said, a little force behind his voice. “He’s looking for kids, maybe kids from his own soldiers and allies. But he’s also creating that serum. Our mission is get there before he can make his next move.”
“So what? We guard orphanages and daycares?” The sarcasm and chuckle came from an agent just behind Clint. He frowned. They had no idea who they were dealing with. Obviously the information that it was children who could be abused and made into soldiers, hadn’t sunk in yet. But the agents continued on: “Why don’t we just send out the call to the teachers and guardians to just keep an eye on the kids?”
“These aren’t just random kids,” a deep female voice said from the back. Clint’s eyes lifted. He let out a breath. That voice… That deep, sure and steady, cunning and challenging voice. It came from the throat and the perfect curl of the tongue. It could be used to joke, argue and seduce with. It won every time. And the owner knew it.
Even now, she managed to get the attention of every agent in the room. The sound of chairs turning and desks creaking as every agent turned to the back of the room filled the silence.
Clint looked up to Hendricks, finding the agent already had his eye on him. His look was enough to confirm Clint’s suspicions. There as no way he would ever not recognize that voice. Clint finally sat up straighter and turned in his seat to follow the gaze of the other agents. She made her way down the aisle, her black cat suit slick and clean around her perfect curves. She wore a holster on either thigh, her batons were strapped to her back, the belt around her waist wore the same weapons and supply buckles he’d remembered; first aid kit, grappling hook, gas disk, etc. Her red hair seemed to glow in the dim room, curly and long. It’d been quite a while since he’d seen her with long hair. She still held that bright expression; twinkling eyes, tight smirk. Natasha Romanoff was still gorgeous after all this long time.
Her heeled boots echoed down room as she made her way through the stunned or amazed agents, her arms swinging alongside her. “These are handpicked children. Only some will be chosen for the “higher race,” she said, a bit of spite slipping from her voice. She made it around Hendrick’s desk, handing him a small flash drive. “The Red Room has always picked the natural fighters. But Smirnov believed they needed more compliant creatures who would easily accept the serum. Making them into fighters… that could be done later. They had to compromise. They still managed to make weapons.”
Her eyes fell on Clint just then. She stopped suddenly. Clint laid back in his chair, lifting his hand in a weak wave, his fingers individually dropping back to his fist. Her lips parted as she stared at him, a look of confusion and then pleasure passing over her features. He stared back, raising an eyebrow. She took a breath and looked back to the agents. “Smirnov no longer works for the Red Room, he works on his own terms. So we have to suppose he has the same mindset. His kids won’t be the fighters. They’ll not only be easier to work on, these kids will also be easier to convince. Smirnov will have their trust, their loyalty.”
An agent cleared his throat. “But he’s not a leader of any organization. He doesn’t have ties with any big people since the Red Room. What will be the point of making these soldiers.”
Hendricks pointed to the agent with his pencil. “Smirnov will need buyers. That’s why we’re having this session.” He typed along his computer for a second and a new face came on the screen. “Gleb Navolsky. Gang leader and smuggler, known from this side of the Ukraine to the border between China and Russia. We intercepted on a call with Navolsky and one of Smirnov’s men and it seems Smirnov is willing to do a drop-off this weekend. That being said…” Hendricks looking around the room. “Smirnov has always been careful with who he does business with. There must be a trade going on.”
“You think Navolsky would smuggle kids for Smirnov?” a front row agent asked.
“Smuggling humans was never his game,” Clint answered. “Navolsky is known for smuggling weapons. Smirnov might need that if his following is enlarging,” Clint said, pressing his hands together. “It wouldn’t cost Smirnov much to give up one guinea pig.”
“Only this isn’t likely a guinea pig…” Hendricks started.
The room stilled like the air was rushed out of it. Of course… S.H.I.E.L.D. Always hiding something until the end. Always dumping their agents with dumbfounding news and expecting them to still work with it. Smirnov project was already a finished one. A child had already been used. “Wait a minute…” Clint sat up, scrutinizing Natasha from across the ways. She stared back defiantly. “He’s already started. He already has kids. He’s already…”
“We don’t have a count on how many kids,” Natasha said. She began to nod. “But yes, Agent Barton. It’s already begun.”
“What? Has S.H.I.E.L.D. gotten slow in their old age? Why the hell was this operation not stomped out the minute kids could’ve been involved?!”
“Oh, yeah, and lose Smirnov in the middle of it. We’ve handled this case with a low profile, collecting information and waiting for the best opportunities—”
“There are children involved!” Clint growled, slamming his hand on the table. Hendricks tried to yell back but Natasha planted an arm in front of his middle. Hendricks looked confused but Natasha stepped up. “We had to sacrifice moments, Agent Barton. If Smirnov had gotten away when were just beginning to investigate, who says he wouldn’t regroup in an entirely new place and find more kids. We couldn’t lose the few leads we had.”
Clint stared at her, anger simmering just beneath his skin. He hated how calm and beautiful she seemed, her piercing eyes boring into his from across the room. It should’ve made him more angry. But he remembered her giving him that look long ago. It was always an indication she had a plan and she wasn’t going to give to anything. Had it been her that wanted him in on the mission? Clint took in a deep breath and relaxed back in his chair.
Natasha pulled her hand away from Hendricks and he seemed to relax as well. He straightened his jacket and looked back to his agents. “No matter our feelings, this drop-off is still happening tonight. A child, a file, a serum, we still do not know. The site is a small town named Suralsk. The timing: eleven pm. The exchange will be happening on the beach outside of the town. We have one chance at stopping this exchange. Let’s not miss it. Cameron, Williams and Rhett will be team leaders. I want Williams in the city, guarding the entrances—we don’t want to affect the residents there. Cameron will be come in from the west to engage Smirnov at the lake. I want Rhett’s team already at the cape. Any questions?”
“Uh, yeah,” Clint said, putting his hand up in the air. Natasha rolled her eyes but Hendricks stood taller. He nodded, giving Clint approval. “You all seem to know what you’re doing. The mission seems tight, all accounted for… Why am I here again?”
Hendricks shared a look with Natasha. She just stared back. Clint frowned. She hadn’t been the one to call him in. Hendricks then leaned against the table in front of him. “The Director asked for you, specifically. He believed you had the eyes and the experience along with Agent Romanoff’s for the mission. I’m not the one to disclose the details of your mission. You’ll talk to the Director.” Hendricks looked around the room. “Is that all?” Clint was ready to argue again but no one paid him attention and honestly, he was too tired of Hendricks answer so he decided he would wait.
Hendricks nodded. “You’ll be briefed again on the jet. That will be all.”
The room suddenly became busy as agents pushed their chairs back, packed their papers and files, and talked quietly as they made their way around the room. Clint pulled on his jacket, watching as Hendricks muttered something to Natasha with a warning glare which she just replied to with a smirk. He made his way down the room, glancing at Clint once. Clint tugged his bow closer to him, watching the agents pile out of the room.
The door shut with a bang behind them.