When Clint landed the plane, Bucky could feel his hands shaking. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous before a mission. Usually he was never nervous.
You're nervous because you have a reason to live now. The voice in his head supplied.
Bucky decided to ignore the voice. If he didn't, he wouldn't be able to get off the plane.
"Buck?" Clint was already out of his seat, swinging on his quiver, and straightening his toque. "Earth to Bucky?"
Bucky hastily got up, and went to get his own equipment. "Yes, sorry, just got lost for a minute."
Clint gave him a long look. "Look, I can't promise we'll live, or even that you'll live, this is a difficult mission. That base has one of the tightest security systems I've ever seen, and once, if, we get inside it's only a matter of time before they find out we are there, and sic the dogs on us. But I can promise one thing. I can promise that I will do everything in my power to try and get you home."
What do you even say to that? Bucky wondered, staring at the man that essentially just offered his life for Bucky's. In the end, all he could do was nod slightly and say:
"Let's get this over with."
Clint had landed the plane in a grove of trees two kilometres from the outer fence of the base, so the two assassins crept through the dense forest, as silent as deer, poised to fight, or run, for their lives. Eventually, the high chain link fence came into view, and once they were close enough to make out the faces of the patrolling guards, Bucky pulled Clint behind a bush to do some recon.
"Guards patrolling in pairs of two. Classic parametre pattern, one pair for each side of the fence, going clockwise." Bucky said in a hushed tone.
"Counter-clockwise." Clint replied.
"No, clockwise."
"No, counter-, oh wait yeah you're right." Clint amended. "I see four towers, and one guard per tower."
"One road in and out with a mechanized gate." Bucky squinted at the fence. "There are fuze boxes along the fences meaning that it is-"
"Electrified." Clint finished. "This place is insane."
"Well there's one upside to all of this." Bucky said.
"What?"
"That this is definitely where the Tesseract is."
Clint huffed a laugh. "So, how are we getting in?"
Bucky bit his lip. "Cut the power?"
"Not gonna work." Clint shook his head. "Dude this is Canada, the power goes out so often and it is so cold that literally everything has backup generators. We cut the power and they'll sizzle us like back-bacon when the generators kick in and we're only half way up the fence."
"What about luring out a couple guards and taking their uniforms?"
"That may have worked in the 40s, but not with today's biotech."
Bucky rolled his eyes. "Well then, what's your plan?"
"Oh I've got nothing." Clint settled more comfortably into the bush. "I guess we better get comfortable, it's going to be a long day."
Bucky shifted from a crouch to a more sustainable kneel. "I'm taking first watch."
"Fine by me." Clint slid his bow off his back and reclined.
Bucky watched as Clint made himself comfortable, then turned his attention back to the base. There had to be some way in. As he watched, a truck came up the road to the gate, and was buzzed in. Then another one, ten minutes later.
Hmm. Bucky thought as a plan began to take shape in his head. Maybe that could be useful.
After awhile, Bucky turned to his partner. "Clint, what kind of arrows did you bring with you?"
Clint didn't even sit up. "You name it, I've got it."
"Anything that could fall a tree?"
Now Clint was interested. "Yeah, maybe. I've got some with exploding tips, they could probably knock down a tree if I hit the right spot."
A glimmer of a smile came across Bucky's face. "I think I've got a plan, do you think you can hit the right spot in the dark?"
Clint was grinning now too. "Bucky, I never miss."
"Perfect." Bucky cracked his fingers and began to outline his plan.
______________________________
"Are you sure this is going to work?" Clint whispered as he checked his watch a third time. If Bucky was right the truck would be passing by any minute now.
"Are you doubting my plan?" Bucky asked. "As long as you hit that tree everything will work out fine. You can hit that tree, right?"
"Are you doubting my aim?" Clint mimicked. "Yeah I can hit a tree."
"Then my plan will work. As long as you hit the tree, and it falls , it'll cause enough commotion that we can slip in with the truck."
Clint nodded, then peeked through the bushes to get another look at the base.
"Man," He said. "I hope that truck gets here soon, the guards just changed shifts. Security is always weakest right as shifts change."
"The guards are changing?" Bucky looked over the foliage. "Check what doors they are going in-"
Bucky went stalk still.
"Buck?" Clint frowned. "What's up?"
"I know that guard."
Frowning, Clint looked at the six new guards. "Which one?"
"Second on the right."
"Is that...." Clint trailed off, disbelieving.
"Brock Rumlow?" Bucky finished.
"Well shit."
Bucky turned away from the base, breathing heavily. "It can't be him, Clint. It can't."
"Well it sure looks like him."
"You don't understand," Bucky's eyes had gone wide. "He'll recognize me. Then all he'll have to do is say the words."
"What words?" Clint asked. "Bucky, I don't understand."
"The activation words," Bucky said. "The words that'll turn me back into that monster."
Clint was silent.
"Clint, I can't go back to that life. I-I," Bucky clenched his fists then let them go. "I can't be the Winter Soldier again."
Clint nodded slowly. "I understand, Bucky, I really do. I know what it's like to have someone else in your head. I'm not going to let that happen to you again. Stay here. I'll get the tesseract, or I'll turn this place into a smoking crater. Rumlow included."
"What? No!" Bucky latched onto Clint's arm, keeping him firmly concealed behind the bushes. "That's suicide."
Clint snorted. "Didn't you hear Fury? That's what this is."
"You aren't going alone." Bucky said in a tone that clearly meant don't argue with me.
"And you aren't being turned into a hydra murder bot." Clint countered.
Bucky stared at the stubborn man before him. "Clint, we have to finish the mission."
Clint nodded, and was about to speak, when he paused, looking Bucky up and down.
"What?" Bucky asked.
"What size are you?" Clint had a glint in his eyes.
"Uh, medium?"
"Close enough." Clint began peeling off his jacket. "Take off your clothes."
Bucky frowned. "What?"
"I know, I know, I could have at least bought you dinner. Start stripping Barnes."
"Clint, I don't understand."
Clint rolled his eyes. "Man, I thought you were supposed to be smart. We're switching clothes, they won't be able to recognize you if they can't see your arm."
"Clint no," Bucky said. "Rumlow will be able to tell the difference."
"He's only one guard,we can keep our distance. Plus, how long has it been since you've seen Rumlow, a couple years maybe? Trust me, if I go in there dressed like you he won't even bat an eye at the blonde hair and my obviously better physique."
"Haha." Bucky didn't like it, but he began stripping off his uniform, trading pieces with Clint.
Once they were done dressing, Clint turned to Bucky.
"How do I look?" His voice came out muffled from behind Bucky's mask and goggles.
"Like a blonde me." Bucky admitted.
Clint laughed. "It's a good thing you cut off your long hair, I don't think it would all fit under my toque."
Reaching over, Clint adjusted the beanie, making sure the purple "H" was facing forward. "There, you are officially a hawkeye."
As Clint pulled his arm back, he made a confused hum.
"What?" Bucky asked.
"Nothing, your armour just feels different from mine." Clint shrugged. "It's probably nothing."
"What about our weapons? The Winter Soldier doesn't have a bow and arrow."
Clint shrugged. "We can switch if you want, but you won't be able to draw my bow, even with your robot arm. And I doubt they'll look much farther than your mask. It's pretty hard to ignore it. It's also hard to speak in, like how did you talk to anyone in this?"
"I didn't."
"Oh yeah, oops."
"Clint, maybe we should switch back, if they take you pris-"
"No time," Clint cut him off. "There's the truck."
Sure enough, an army-issue truck was rumbling up the dirt road towards their hiding place. Clint bent down into a crouch next to Bucky and got ready to jump.
"Best of luck Barnes." Clint whispered. "It's been a pleasure."
Then he leapt, grabbing onto the back end of the truck, dangling for a moment until his feet found purchase on the bumper. Bucky landed a moment later.
"Don't hit the tree until the truck is entering the gate, if it falls before they still have time to close it." Bucky said.
"I know." Clint hissed back, notching an arrow. The tip was cylindrical and heavy, and would've made him doubt his shot if he was a lesser archer. Still, with everything riding on this shot, he paused a second longer than he absolutely needed to take aim.
Breathe in.
Pull back.
Breathe Out.
Aim.
Breathe In. Hold.
Fire.
The arrow soared, quick and true, striking the tree branch squarely at its joint, and as the truck rolled into the compound he pressed the detonator.
The tree branch exploded, sending shards of wood shooting out, and the bulk of the branch crashing down onto the fence. With a sizzle the branch was engulfed in tongues of flame, and the compound descended into chaos as the power failed and the fire began to blaze out of control.
"Fuck,Clint, I thought you said you could make the shot!" Bucky shouted as he jumped from the truck.
"I did make it!" Clint shouted, jumping after him. "How was I supposed to know it would hit the fence?"
Bucky groaned and motioned towards a door that had been left of during the commotion. "Come on."
Clint ran after Bucky, slipping into the building and pulling the door closed behind him. The corridor was dark, lit only faintly by the red emergency light, and seemed fairly nondescript, but Clint had a creeping sensation that all did not meet the eye here.
"Where should we be looking?" Bucky murmured as they crept along.
"We need to find a stairwell or an elevator, it'll be below ground," Clint answered. "When SHIELD had that thing it was releasing so much energy that it was like a block heater. Being underground helps it from becoming unbearably hot."
Bucky hummed, then paused to look at Clint. "No elevator. Wouldn't work without power. Stairs are usually on the outer walls near corners."
Clint nodded, but frowned, sniffing the air. "Do you smell smoke?"
Frowning, Bucky sniffed. "No, I don't think-"
He was cut off by the deafening howl of a fire alarm.
"Yes." He grimaced. "I think the building has caught fire."
"What?" Clint said, louder than he should have.
"I said the building-"
Clint paused and dug his fingers into his ears. "The alarm, it's too loud for my hearing aids, it's drowning out everything you say."
Bucky stared at him, his eyes suddenly filling with uncertainty as he tugged Clint into a doorway and pulled out a marker. Rolling up his sleeve he wrote on his arm:
I don't know sign language.
"I can read your lips," Clint assured. "Just keep it simple."
Nodding Bucky point forward and then to the left. "I think I see a stairwell."
Clint followed him, the shriek of the alarm squealed in his hearing aids and he was tempted to pull them out, but he refrained. He needed every advantage he could get, they were already going in blind, he didn't need to go in deaf too.
The stairwell was unlocked and deserted, which was Clint considered a blessing, even though he knew it wasn't a good sign. If no one was coming up these stairs that meant everyone in the basement had another way to get out of the building, and therefore a way to get the tesseract out.
Upon exiting the stairwell, Clint and Bucky found themselves immersed in darkness. As the door clicked shut behind the pair, the screeching of the alarm was cut off, and Bucky gave the door a quizzical tug. It didn't move.
"Well," Bucky sighed. "I guess we can't go back now."
"Forward it is." Clint agreed. The air is warm down here. Clint noted. Good sign we're in the right place.
The pair continued, creeping through the immense darkness, relying only on the waves of heat they could feel radiating through the air. After a few minutes of silence, Bucky placed a hand on Clint's shoulder.
"This one." He said, guiding Clint to a door on the left.
"Why?"
"Touch the door handle, it's hot."
Clint nodded and pushed on the door. "It's also unlocked."
Alarm bells began to ring in his head, but Clint ignored them. With all the chaos going on with the fire and power outage, there was a good chance it meant nothing.
The room they entered was warmer than the hall, almost stiflingly so, and not quite as dark, infact Clint swore he could see a light-
"Buck, is that what I think it is?"
"Holy shit," Bucky breathed. "Just like that?"
Clint couldn't believe his eyes, but there, no more than fifty yards ahead, a faint blue light pulsed. The tesseract.
"Cover me," Bucky said softly. "I'll grab it, then lets get the hell out of here."
With a nod, Clint unslung his bow and notched an arrow, staying put as Bucky crept towards the glowing cube.
"This is too easy." Clinted breathed.
"You are right about that, soldier." A whispering voice said from behind him, and Clint felt the all too familiar press of a gun barrel in his back. "Nice and easy, put your weapon down, and I won't hurt you."
Carefully, Clint relaxed his bow arm and let the arrow he was holding slip from his fingers. He knelt and set the bow down on the ground.
"Quiver too." The man said, and Clint obeyed, his mind racing.
A quick glance up told him Bucky was not aware of the situation yet, still cautiously making his way to the tesseract.
The man noticed his glance. "I've got men on the catwalk above us watching your buddy. Don't do anything stupid."
But it was too late, Clint was already about to do something incredibly stupid.
"Clint!" He shouted. "Trap!"
It was like everything happened at once. As Clint rolled to avoid the downward swing of the man's rifle stock, he was momentarily blinded by the bright flash of the lights flicking on in the room. Once they were on Clint wished they weren't because now he could see how well and truly fucked he and Bucky were. There was no shooting their way out of this.
Bucky was currently having his rifle taken and his hands pulled behind his back, and the man who had tried to hit him now had his gun pointed straight at Clint's face as another man ziptied his wrists together. But what scared Clint the most was the glimmer of recognition that he saw in the eyes of the guard.
"Well I'll be damned." The guard was nearly grinning at Clint now. "The Winter Soldier, back from the dead again."
Fuck. Clint's thoughts were swirling. They recognized Bucky, oh God, oh-
Then he realized that the guard was not addressing Bucky, but addressing him. He thought he was the Winter Soldier. Clint had a mental sigh of relief, but not too big of one, because he was still pretty certain they were screwed.
The guard was still staring at him. Oh, he expects me to respond. Clint realized. What would The Winter Soldier say?
Nothing, probably. Clint decided, and tipped his head slightly at the man, the same way a mountain lion looked at a lost hiker.
Then, against all odds, the man snorted. "Still muzzled I guess. Got a sidekick of your own this time though. Got tired of following Captain America around, eh?"
Sidekick?! Clint was insulted. He was not Bucky's sidekick.
"Come on, who is that over there?"
"Hawkeye." Clint ground out, keeping his voice low and without his usual lilt.
"Huh, thought that guy died awhile ago. But we can remedy that oversight soon enough. I'm sure the boys will all be excited to kill an Avenger, even if it's just Hawkeye. Come on, I'm sure Rumlow will be wanting to speak with you."
As two other guards came up behind him to restrain him, Clint put his brain back into overdrive, desperately looking for a plan, anything he could do to give Bucky a shot at escape. Just a single shot.
One shot.
Shot.Arrow! Clint had the biggest lightbulb moment of his life. Near frantic, he whipped his head around, trying to determine where his bow and quiver was. Thank God. The men had left them scattered on the ground, apparently they were not valuable enough to pick up.
Suckers. Clint thought, silently thanked Natasha, and then began to shout. "Vzryvat! Luk! Vzryvat! Luk!"
"Hey, shut up!" One of the guards cuffed him in the back of the head, but he was certain Bucky had heard him. Now he just had to pray he understood.
_____________________________________
Blow up? Bow? Bucky thought wildly as they drug Clint away. Whatever Clint was trying to tell him was clearly only meant for him, he wouldn't have yelled it in Russian if he hadn't, so it must be important. But why?
Blow up...Bow...Blow u- Suddenly it hit Bucky, as he saw Clint's prized bow lying on top of his quiver. A quiver stocked with enough explosives to bring the building down on top of them.
Clint, you absolute idiot. Bucky thought. You stupid, brilliant idiot.
Clint wanted him to blow up the compound. But how was he going to get the bow and get Clint out of here? This was a very shortsighted plan.
No it isn't. Bucky realized. Clint hadn't planned to make it out of here.
Bucky didn't know what to do. If he blew the building he'd definitely kill Clint, who was no doubt being placed in a cell with Rumlow this very moment, and he'd probably get himself killed as well. But he'd take everyone else, and possibly the tesseract with them. He'd finish the mission, and save Clint from torture and eventual execution at the hands of Rumlow. But could he do it knowing he'd doom Clint?
"Bring him outside."
On either side of him the guards grabbed his arms, and Bucky realized he was running out of choices. Clint's doomed either way, at least this way is faster for both of us.
"Wait, wait!" He shouted,and amazingly the guards paused.
"What?"
"Let me grab my bow, please."
"You have got to be joking." The guard on the left scoffed. "Don't you think we're smarter than that?"
"I think you're smart enough to know that a bow useless without an arrow." Bucky let a bit of desperation drip into his voice. "Please let me have it, you can even cut the string if you want. You're just going to shoot me, aren't you? I'd rather die holding it if possible, it means a lot to me. What would be the difference?"
The guards were silent, clearly waiting for the other to make the first move.
"Get him the bow, Finley." The guard on the right finally said.
"Seriously?" The left guard, Finley, looked at his partner, aghast.
"He's right, we're just going to walk him aways out and shoot him. What's the difference?"
"This is a bad idea." Finley grumbled, but scooped up the bow regardless. "I'm holding it till we get out in the trees."
"Good enough for me." The right side guard shrugged, then pushed Bucky ahead of them. "Come on, Hawk-guy, lets get this over with."
"It's Hawkeye." Bucky grumbled, but he only did it to hide the smile that was creeping across his lips.
___________________________________________
As the two guards half guided half drug Clint down a dimly lit hall, all Clint could think was please God let Bucky understand. Followed very closely by please God don't let them take my mask off.
Where they were taking him, Clint wasn't too concerned. He had a pretty good idea he was going to whatever Hydra had deemed as an acceptable cell for the Winter Soldier, to wherever Rumlow was waiting for him. And he could live with that, because every minute that Rumlow wasted on him was another minute for Bucky to escape. Rumlow could say whatever he wanted to Clint, he'd still be Clint by the end of it, and Clint found that he was okay with that. He'd spent the last few years of his life running from himself, only to finally make it back to where he belonged, and if he was going to die now, at least he'd die as Clint. As Hawkeye.
It wasn't until one of the guards opened a heavy door and Clint felt a rush of cold air that he felt his heartbeat spike. They were going outside. Why were they going outside?
Instantly, Clint got the horrible thought that maybe they knew all along who he was and they were just going to shoot him here and leave him to bleed out in the frozen dirt. He'd screwed up. He'd gambled his life and Bucky's freedom, and lost them both. Then he saw the prisoner van.
What?
"In." One of the guards nudged their rifle into the small of his back and Clint reluctantly clambered into the back of the van. Not an easy task with your hands ziptied behind your back, mind you.
"Where are you taking me?" He asked, turning to look at the guards as they climbed in, rolling the heavy door down behind them. Instantly, the engine hummed to life and Clint could feel the truck begin to move. A moment later, dim lights illuminated the interior and Clint noticed there was another person in the van.
"You'll find out soon enough, Barnes."
Rumlow.
Clint could feel his pulse thrumming in his ears. This was the moment. If Rumlow recognized him he was dead and Rumlow would tear the compound apart to find Bucky.
"Do you want me to remove his mask, sir?" Finley asked.
Rumlow frowned, as if considering it, but shook his head. "No, it'll muffle the screams. In a tin can like this that'll save us a lot of annoyance. Sit down soldier."
Clint did not move.
"I said, sit down." Rumlow drove his foot into Clint's knee, and he stumbled back onto the steel bench that ran along the adjoining wall to the driver's cabin.
"Look, I have had a very trying day, and I am not in the mood to play games, so we're going to do this quick, okay? I'm going to talk, you're going to listen, and then my bosses will be very excited to see you." Rumlow stuffed his hand into his front pocket and pulled out a crumbled piece of paper. "They said I was stupid to carry this around, but I knew you'd come back eventually, you wouldn't be able to help yourself. You know where you belong."
Wisely, Clint did not respond, as he had a good idea as to what was on that paper.
The activation words...The words that turned Bucky into that monster.
Rumlow cleared his throat.
"Toska," He began, and Clint felt his heartbeat reach a terminal speed as he realized he had about thirty seconds to figure out what to do once Rumlow stopped talking. If he didn't respond correctly the jig was up.
"Rzhavyy."
I'm so screwed. Clint thought, staying absolutely still. I'm going to die in a truck in the middle of nowhere Canada. Unless...
"Semnadtsat'."
For the second time that night, Clint was grateful he was wearing Bucky's mask, as it hid the grin he couldn't help but suppress.
Either I'm a total idiot, or I'm a genius. I guess I'll find out very soon.
"Rassvet,"
This is a very long activation code. Clint mused. That must have been extremely inconvenient to use when you were in a rush.
"Pech',"
And his pronunciation is just plain awful. Natasha would kill him on principle.
"Devyat',"
Ugh, still going? I've read shorter books.
"Dobrokachestvennyy,"
I wonder if Rumlow knows his fly is down.
"Vozvrashcheniye domoy,"
"Odin,"
" Tovarnyy vagon."
Silence hung in the van.
Finally.
"Ready to comply?" Rumlow asked, and Clint tilted his head to meet his eyes.
"You're such an asshole," He said, then launched himself at Rumlow.
Crashing into the side of the truck, Rumlow was stunned, but quickly regained his composure, attempting to push Clint off of himself.
The guards scrambled to their feet and made to pull Clint off of Rumlow, but Clint growled at them and they flinched back.
Hey, this Winter Soldier unhinged psycho cred has some use. Clint thought, then Rumlow finally got enough leverage to take a swing at Clint, momentarily stunning him.
"Don't move!" One of the guards shouted, training his rifle on Clint, but Rumlow howled at him.
"Don't fucking shoot, if you miss the ricochet will kill one of us!"
Taking Rumlow's momentary distraction as an opportunity, Clint dealt a swift kick to Rumlow's crotch and a punch to his gut, sending him groaning to the floor.
Was it a low blow? Yes. But Clint couldn't bring himself to care. With a hard kick to the head, Clint silenced Rumlow's groans, then turned to the two guards.
"Who's next?" He asked.
The guards glanced at each other, then the one on the left pulled a knife.
Clint grinned. "Okay boy, lets dance."
___________________________
"Do you really think he's Hawkeye?" The guard on the right mused as the pair led Bucky into the woods behind the compound.
"I dunno," Finley answered with a shrug. "Maybe its like the president, when one steps down another guy gets to be Hawkeye?"
"Is it?"
It took Bucky a moment to realize that the guard was talking to him. He shrugged non-commitatly. "Can I have my bow yet?"
"Do you think we are far enough away?"
The guard shrugged and glanced back at the compound. "Yeah, I'd say so. We don't want to leave the body any farther North, or that crazy Mountie that's been poking around up here may find him."
Finley nodded. "God, I hate that guy. He's like if Captain America had been raised by coyotes. If we shoot him here we can put his body in the Peace River and he'll end up so far from here by daylight even the Mountie won't find him."
The guards pushed Bucky to his knees, then handed him Clint's bow.
"There you go, Hawk-guy," Finley said as he stepped back and lifted his rifle. "Any last words?"
Bucky's hand tightened around the grip, his fingers searching for the detonator switch, and as he found he smiled at the guards.
"You should've taken me farther away."
Then he hit the button on the grip and the compound ignited behind them.
_____________________
With Rumlow and the two guards incapacitated and handcuffed to the interior of the van, Clint took the opportunity to assess his situation. The guards and Rumlow were no longer an immediate threat, but it was only a matter of time before Rumlow woke up, and the only weapons he had at his disposal was a rifle he'd taken from one of the guards, which was not a great choice at this range. Additionally, Clint had no idea where he was exactly. They had been driving for at least twenty minutes at a good speed, and he hadn't been a little preoccupied fighting off three men to focus on when or where the van was turning. He could be anywhere by now.
"Well," Clint said, thinking out loud. "I may not know where I am, but I know where I don't want to be, and that's in this van. Or wherever they're planning on taking me for that matter, so I need to get out of the van before they get me to the secondary location."
But how to get out? Surely they wouldn't be so careless to transfer him in an unlocked van. Clint rested his head against the cool metal of the van wall. He could feel it vibrating thanks to the motion of the truck, but the vibration was not consistent or at a high frequency.
"We're not going very fast, and the road isn't smooth," Clint mused. "Gravel? Or maybe even dirt?"
That would limit the speed the van could travel at, possibly even to a speed that Clint would be able to leap from without any major injuries.
Suddenly a stray thought popped into Clint's brain. Rumlow and his guards didn't know they were transporting him, they thought they were transferring the Winter Soldier, one of their own trained attack dogs. Rumlow had wholeheartedly believed his magic words would bring Bucky back to their side, there was a chance he didn't even think to lock the van.
Crossing his fingers, Clint reached for the door hand and gave it a hard wrench up. Amazingly, it went without resistance, and Clint couldn't help but laugh. "Thank you, Rumlow."
Outside the truck, densely wooded forest flashed by him in the early morning gloom, and underneath the truck thanks to the glow of the headlights Clint could see that they were on a dirt road, no more than a wagon trail really. If he jumped from the van he would be jumping into the wilds of Canada without a map, a compass, or even a match. For a second Clint contemplated taking his chances with Rumlow and the guards, but quickly shook the thought off. Dying of exposure in the woods would be a much more merciful death than whatever Hydra had in mind for him.
Though the thought of Rumlow and the guards made him pause to look at them. They were completely defenceless, trussed up like calves at a branding. It would only take three bullets and an extra moment of his time to rid the world of three truly awful men. Clint cocked the rifle he had taken from one of the guards.
It's easy. He told himself. You've done it a hundred times before, just inhale, exhale, then pull the trigger.
Yet Clint found that his hands were shaking. Come on, he thought. They're bad guys, they kill people for a living!
And what do I do for a living?
No. Clint shook his head vehemently. Not again, not if I have the choice.
Slinging the rifle across his back, Clint returned his attention to the wilderness unfolding behind the van. Part of him wondered if he should wait for dawn, so he would be able to see what he was jumping into, but he knew that there was no way he could wait that long. He'd have to do this the way he did most things in his life. Blind.
And with that thought, Clint leapt from the van.