The Mission to Save a Life

"Guillem!"

The remaining three operatives swiftly closed in, forming a defensive perimeter around Guillem, their weapons aimed at the warehouse entrance. Their eyes remained locked on the doorway, unblinking.

Logically, after that intense round of fire, their target should have been eliminated. But experience had taught them never to assume—caution was survival.

"Hami! Get him to the back!"

One of them barked an order while keeping his gun raised. "Drag him to the car!"

"On it!"

Hami swiftly holstered his handgun and moved toward Guillem.

BOOM!

A sudden explosion tore through the air, sending shockwaves through the warehouse. The entire squad was blasted sky-high, their bodies flung like ragdolls.

Hawkeye's arrow had struck its mark—a high-explosive round. The sheer force obliterated the tightly clustered unit in an instant, their camaraderie ultimately sealing their fate.

Huff… Huff…

Inside the warehouse, Hawkeye slumped behind the battered remains of a couch, using the lifeless Iron Man suit as cover. He let out a deep breath of relief upon hearing the explosion.

Emerging from behind his makeshift barricade, he turned to Harry, who had been cowering nearby. "Sorry, kid. I wrecked your warehouse. But we need to move—those bad guys will be back."

"But… how do we get out of here?"

Harry glanced around at the bullet-riddled walls and shattered belongings, then looked up at Hawkeye.

A kid like him had no way to transport a powerless Iron Man suit and an injured operative through the blizzard outside.

Hawkeye's gaze flickered toward the disabled suit. If it were just him and Harry, he'd figure something out—but dragging Stark's armor? That was an anchor he couldn't afford.

A wave of dizziness struck him. Hawkeye staggered, barely managing to sit upright, his hand pressed to his forehead.

"Sir?"

Harry panicked and rushed to his side.

"I'm fine…"

Hawkeye gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay conscious. "Call Stark. We need backup. Tell him to figure something out."

He took a deep breath. "Help me up. The enemy doesn't know their men are dead yet. It'll take them until sunrise to regroup and send reinforcements. We have time to set traps. Let's make it count."

"Got it."

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit meeting room, Ned sat across from Nick Fury, Wanda disguised at his side. A small black bag rested on the table between them.

"This contains an item infused with Agent Barton's DNA. What do you plan to do with it?" Fury's gaze was sharp as ever.

"I got a call from Stark. Situation's changed." Ned's words were direct. "The agent you sent—Clint—is critically injured. He might not make it."

Fury narrowed his one good eye. "Do you know what you're saying? Barton is one of my best field agents."

"Exactly. A key Avenger. And right now, he's dying." Ned leaned forward. "You expected trouble, so you sent Barton and Natasha to assist. But clearly, Stark's problems are bigger than even you anticipated."

He smirked. "Or maybe this was within your expectations—you just underestimated both sides."

Fury's expression darkened. "What kind of trouble are we talking about?"

Ned raised an eyebrow. "Did you send the Skrulls to impersonate Pierce?"

Fury remained silent for a beat before answering, "Yes. He's Hydra. So what?"

"And the Winter Soldier? Are you aware of his identity?"

Fury's silence stretched longer this time.

"What about Captain Rogers? Have you decided how to handle him?" Ned pressed. "Because I could personally deliver him to Barton. Let those two best buddies have their moment of 'friendly' combat. What do you think?"

"No." Fury rejected the idea outright. "Rogers stays put."

"Fine. Then give me a million dollars, and I'll hire someone to do it."

Fury didn't hesitate. "Done."

Moments later, the trio arrived in an abandoned lot. Ned donned his mask, pulled out the item from the black bag, and with a flick of his wrist, a portal shimmered into existence.

On the other side of the golden ring of sparks stood a battered warehouse—Hawkeye's location.

At that moment, Harry was still on the phone with Stark. "Yes, Tony, we need backup!"

Then, suddenly—a glowing portal materialized before him, casting flickering golden light across the wreckage. On the other side stood two figures… no, three.

"Damn it!" Harry yelped. "I can't even see the black guy in the dark!"

The voice on the phone crackled. "Harry? What's going on? I promise I'll get you a new lab to make up for this mess—hello? Harry?!"

Harry barely heard him. His eyes were wide with awe. "Tony! You won't believe this! The Grim Reaper! He's real! He just opened a portal right in front of me!"

Hawkeye, weak but alert, stumbled to the portal's edge. Seeing Fury standing there, his silhouette blending into the night, he exhaled in relief before collapsing to the floor.

"Barton!"

Fury rushed through the portal, kneeling beside the fallen agent. He checked his vitals, then looked up at Ned. "You were right. If we'd been any later, I would've lost one of my best men."

Ned turned to Harry. "Kid, you were attacked, right? If I take you to New York for safety, would you come?"

Harry hesitated. "O-of course! But… my mom and sister…"

"We'll bring them too. Food and lodging? On that guy." Ned jerked a thumb at Fury. "Stark can pick up the bill later—this whole mess is his fault anyway."

A smirk tugged at Ned's lips. Hydra was in play. He wasn't about to leave Harry's family here as sitting ducks.

The last thing anyone needed was another tragic headline about a mysterious family death in Tennessee.

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T/N:

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