Her Hidden Past

- Chapter Twenty Seven -

Almost two weeks since Natasha's death and Medvedev's last phone call, Fury sighed, staring blankly past his screen. They'd quickly finished checking the rest of the agents' files, finding nothing. He'd had to assign the two irritable assassin's more files to keep them occupied when they couldn't take over the gym to work out their frustrations. He sighed again, he focused his gaze back on the screen and the after action report he'd been reading before remembering why he'd turned away in the first place. The loss of civilians and agents might have been avoided if he'd been able to send Barton and Romanoff. Maybe they would have found a way to turn a complete and utter failure into a completed mission.

A screen flickered in the corner of his eye, turning his attention from the condolence letter he had begun to write. Several of the camera feeds had gone dark. 'Unauthorised access in the hangar bay.' The alert began blinking on his screen, a frown creased his forehead. Scrolling the camera's back he caught a glimpse of Ward just before they went black. His frown darkened. Grabbing his phone he dialled.

"Barton, get to the hanger," He ordered. "Stop Ward from taking off. Any means necessary. He's blacked out the cameras." Hanging up without waiting for a reply he immediately dialled Coulson. "Coulson, why is Ward accessing the hangar bay?" He snapped.

"I don't know, Sir." Coulson replied. "Medvedev's orders?"

"Well it certainly wasn't my orders," Fury snarled.

"What are you going to do?" Coulson chose to ignore Fury's anger.

"I've sent Barton to stop him by any means necessary," Fury sighed. "We'll deal with whatever the outcome is." He hung up without another word.

Five minutes before:

Grant Ward hurried towards the hangar bay, knapsack thrown over his shoulder. He was glad to finally be leaving. Everyone had been moping around, quietly mourning the red headed agent. He'd been tired of that after the first day. Ward smirked, he was glad to see her gone. Everyone had thought she was a brilliant agent, but he knew better, she was weak and a traitor. Now Medvedev would have a chance to recognise other agents' skills, without them being overshadowed by the high and mighty Romanoff. If she'd still been alive he would have found an opportunity to drag her back to Medvedev by now. Instead, the carefully laid plans were disrupted by her death, delaying everything. He had been prepared to leave for at least a week, eager to get away from the underground base but new orders had only arrived just over an hour ago, ordering him back to base within 48 hours.

Ward shook himself, reminding himself he'd chosen his path. Following orders was a must, until he could prove himself. Steeling his resolve, he began hacking the keypad. At least Medvedev hadn't asked him to complete Romanoff's part of the plan when he'd as good as offered. Maybe Skye wouldn't hate him so much if someone else did that part. Kicking the door closed behind himself, he jammed it shut. The manual override on the doors was next, isolating the controls so no one could activate the doors from elsewhere in the base. Quickly, he grabbed the gear he'd stored in a corner packing it into the quinjet he'd chosen. Ward smirked, he'd still have time to run the preflight checks and get in the air before anyone had time to realise what was happening. Mere minutes later he was easing the throttle forward.

Clint grabbed his weapons, quickly buckling on his holsters and throwing his quiver over his shoulder.

"Clint?" Natasha asked, immediately arming herself as well.

"Hangar Bay," Clint answered. "We have to stop Ward. Any means necessary." He barely took another breath before he was running out the door.