Games of Deception (Hawkeye/Avengers)

Chapter 8 - Another Night at the Bar

-Jacqueline's P.O.V-

I leaned back into the couch and sighed, closing my laptop. Glancing over at the clock on the wall above the refrigerator, I realized it was a little after 3 in the afternoon, and my sigh became even louder. I had spent the entire day hacking into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files and extracting the information that I needed for my next target.

It turned out that the agent I'd envisioned a few nights ago wasn't a coincidence after all; an Agent Jeremy Marshall fit the image exactly. He was going to be in the D.C. area in early May, which was perfect for me to spend some quality time at what I considered home for about as long as I'd anticipated. It wasn't too far away either, and that was a plus. Marshall was apparently newer to  S.H.I.E.L.D.; his ranking wasn't nearly as high as some of the agents I had faced before, so I wasn't particularly worried. I'd definitely have to find a way to get some training in during these next couple of months though, as I'd been a bit lacking on the last mission that I'd taken up somewhere in Colorado.

The night before, I'd also been trying to find some solid information as to what had going on the last few days. I hadn't found all that much to go on, nothing really seemed to fit whatever the heck had been happening to me. I had found a couple of leads though, the most significant being as to why my headache-type things had seemingly vanished since that night I'd 'seen' Agent Marshall in my thoughts. Apparently, there was evidence that this was a sign of someone 'unlocking' the abilities of his or her mind, which was why I'd been able to see Bryan a few days ago without any sort of conentration or intense focus involved. It all seemed like a bunch of nonsense to me, but I would have believed pretty much anything at that point just to give myself some peace of mind about whatever it was that was going on.

This WOULD happen to me, I thought as I settled into the couch a bit more and closed my eyes for the first time that day, a yawn escaping my lips. Tonight was the night of my next set at the bar, where Clint was supposed to be meeting me. I was exhausted, but I knew if I fell asleep I wouldn't wake up for hours. So, as I had the tendency to do, I got lost in my thoughts once again.

"Tell me, dammit!"

I was still having trouble comprehending the situation I was currently in. After years of searching, I finally found the bastards responsible for killing my parents. Well, at least one of them. I'd cornered him at the end of an alley, the same gun I'd stolen from my foster home resting on his forehead, between his eyes. He slowly looked up at me.

"Really, Adams, I'm surprised. How long did it take you? What have you been doing since the last time we saw you?"

"None of your damn business. I want to know why you killed my mother and father."

He didn't respond, so I cocked the gun, making his pupils shrink and his body tense. "You're serious, huh?"

"As the grave," I spat, "I'll give you one more chance--"

"Jacqueline Adams, you've grown."

I slammed my gun across the agent's head that I was facing, hard, causing him to collapse. I whipped my body around to face the new voice, and it took all of my strength not to completely panic. It was the other agent, the same who had been accompanied by the man who was now knocked out cold on the filthy concrete on the day my parents were murdered. I managed to retain my composure and kept my weapon pointed to him. "I'm not afraid to kill you both."

The man chuckled. "Huh, six years makes a difference, I hardly recognized you."

I stepped forward, but hesitated when he removed a pistol from the holster around his waist, what I now recongnized as the S.H.I.E.L.D. insignia displayed on it. "There's no need for this, Adams. I'm surprised, as far as you've gotten, that you don't realize we were doing you a favor."