Chapter 3
Clint didn’t exactly plan to scare Natasha, but he succeeded. She jumped and kicked his arm. This happened very fast, Clint didn’t even have time to react. He dropped his bow and became weaponless. “At least she has a chance to escape”, he thought, hoping he was right, because now that he really saw Natasha, he started to panic. If he had been been dealing with another opponent, he would focus on defeating the enemy, but he hoped he would lose this battle. Or maybe time would stop, so he wouldn’t have to fight Natasha. It’s nonsense: why should he kill this girl, when she could become an awesome agent? She had the skills, she was highly trained…
Natasha wasn’t as scared as she would have been if it was another agent. This man standing in front of her seemed nervous, despite the fact that he was surely more experienced. It was clear as day: he had another reason to be here than just killing Natasha. But what? Maybe knowledge was dangerous, yet powerful. Natasha wished she could simply look into people’s heads. “Maybe I need my knife for that. Damn, I forgot I left it in that guard’s leg! He deserved that, though.”
As Natasha kicked Clint down, his phone fell out. Natasha immediately grabbed it and threw it away.
“Awesome, now I don’t know where they are!”
“Where who are?”
“Other agents!“ said Clint, blocking a hard punch and giving it back.
“Did you think S.H.I.E.L.D. depended on ONE damned agent?!”
“Silly me, apologies for my foolishness!”
They continued fighting without any end. But was that fight REAL?
They both made mistakes they would never do, not even in their dreams. Natasha let Clint grab her kicking leg and throw her up, and when she stood up and hit him in the stomach, Clint bent down, letting his opponent free way to pull his hair hard, meanwhile they both studied each other curiously, hoping that something would end this and they could go home.
Natasha had a perfect, skinny, flexible body, big green eyes, and long red hair, tied in a ponytail. Over her Black Widow suit, she wore an oversized jacket and pants, which clearly didn’t belong to her. On her face, the Red Room’s “kind” marks (a scratch from her nose to her eye and a few blue bruises) were visible. All in all, she perfectly represented how a fugitive who crossed the Russian-Ukrainian border by tossing a few police officers to the ground and lived on the streets, stealing food, looked like.
Clint wore a hoodie over his black archer suit. His whole body was full of muscles. (Not fake ones, but real ones, trained by a hard life.) His fair hair was messy, a few locks of hair were hanging into his tired, blue eyes. On his nose he had a bandage. Every single scratch or wound on him told the story of succesful, painful missions.
The fight of the two was ended by the sound of a gun. From one moment to the other, other loud sounds of guns cocking surrounded them. Agents still weren’t visible.
A sharp bullet hit Natasha in her shoulder, coming right out on the other side. She screamed in pain, falling to the ground.
“Now you have me! I’m wounded, you can simply stab me or end me by whatever method you use!” she hissed through her teeth.
Clint was shocked. This is so simple, too simple! There had to be a way out… He just stood there, frozen, looking at his “colleagues”.
“What are you waiting for?! Do it! Don’t make me wait! Don’t… make me… wait for… wait.. for… for something.. that… that… that will come!” Natasha slowly closed her eyes and breathed one last time.
Her last thought was that maybe her body would be thrown into the garbage, like a forgotten kitty. “I can finally rest, without hearing the alarm clock again.”
Clint shook himself, realizing what had just happened. He looked at the fainted girl, who was only a few years younger than himself. She seemed so calm! Her relaxed physiognomy revealed her broken heart.
Then, he closed his eyes and saw S.H.I.E.L.D. men… Cold-hearted, ready to complete any mission, men who didn’t bother to stab someone in the back… Why are they the good ones? Maybe back in the 60s when it was founded, people could depend on S.H.I.E.L.D., but in the present, it was just a group of loyal soldiers, led by some grab-all bosses.
He finally came to a decision and took a shaky sigh…
Balázs-Blénessi-Pataki Kincső VIII. C
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