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TWS Timeline: Kansas City Here I Come
Apr. 5th, 2014 04:06 pmThe shitstorm hit in the middle of deep cover for Clint Barton. Deep cover that had lasted exactly ninety minutes after all the world had access to the complete files of Hydra and therefore SHIELD.
For Clint, half a world away working a four month long operation, it meant that every contact he'd made to worm his way closer to a CEO running an international bio-weaponization organization made him for who he was.
And when he meant 'made' he meant 'shot on sight' made.
Op blown he'd tried to get extraction, tried to get home, still in the dark about what was going on back home in DC. But his three man team turned out to be one corpse and two Hydra henchmen.
Of course, he was shot again.
Really, overseas surgery was a nasty business. He was pretty sure they'd used actual sewing thread for his stitches and infection was less a chance and more imminent. It took every trick and trade he had to just get on a junker of a cropduster back to the Western Hemisphere. And when he ran out of favors and charm it was on to highjacking vehicles and slinking passed the boarder patrol just to get back into the good old US of A.
But his luck ended in Kansas City. So close to home but still so far away. He was out of assets, cash and options. He knew they would track and trace any call made to Natasha or Maria Hill or any of his normal contacts. He had one chance, one call then he was done. He weighed his options and went for the safest bet. From a pay phone in Union Station, the last old glory railstation in the Midwest and the sight of more than one Prohibition shoot out, Clint dialed Steve's number and waited...
For Clint, half a world away working a four month long operation, it meant that every contact he'd made to worm his way closer to a CEO running an international bio-weaponization organization made him for who he was.
And when he meant 'made' he meant 'shot on sight' made.
Op blown he'd tried to get extraction, tried to get home, still in the dark about what was going on back home in DC. But his three man team turned out to be one corpse and two Hydra henchmen.
Of course, he was shot again.
Really, overseas surgery was a nasty business. He was pretty sure they'd used actual sewing thread for his stitches and infection was less a chance and more imminent. It took every trick and trade he had to just get on a junker of a cropduster back to the Western Hemisphere. And when he ran out of favors and charm it was on to highjacking vehicles and slinking passed the boarder patrol just to get back into the good old US of A.
But his luck ended in Kansas City. So close to home but still so far away. He was out of assets, cash and options. He knew they would track and trace any call made to Natasha or Maria Hill or any of his normal contacts. He had one chance, one call then he was done. He weighed his options and went for the safest bet. From a pay phone in Union Station, the last old glory railstation in the Midwest and the sight of more than one Prohibition shoot out, Clint dialed Steve's number and waited...
