Black Widow and Hawkeye: Budapest Part 1

SHIELD Helicarrier, location unknown. 22:00 hours, 15 June, 2005.

--- Original Dossier given to agents inside Helicarrier:

The following information and accompanying directives are for the eyes of the Black Widow and Hawkeye only. A Hydra splinter cell calling itself AIM has begun development on two weapons of mass destruction. The precise power-source and function of these weapons is unknown. The existence of AIM was revealed to SHIELD by a single double-agent, codenamed the Weasel, who was discovered and forced to flee the Hydra Base in the Himalayas, where he was positioned for some time. The Weasel has informed us that a significant Hydra benefactor by the name of Anton Misurovic has access to the compound. As Hydra is a stateless entity, and occupying ground beneath Hungary, SHIELD is unable to initiate a direct attack. As such, all knowledge of your existence will be disavowed, and should you require assistance, none will be given. You are to enter the compound, obtain intelligence regarding the weapons, and terminate any threat inside. Lethal force has been authorised and is encouraged.

SHIELD Helicarrier, location unknown. 23:45 hours, 15 June, 2005.

--- Dossier as given to agents after departure from Helicarrier:

The following information and accompanying directives are for the eyes of the REDACTED and REDACTED only. A REDACTED splinter cell calling itself REDACTED has begun development on two weapons of mass destruction. The precise power-source and function of these weapons is unknown. The existence of REDACTED was revealed to REDACTED by a single double-agent, codenamed the REDACTED, who was discovered and forced to flee the REDACTED base in the REDACTED, where he was positioned for some time. The REDACTED has informed us that a significant REDACTED benefactor by the name of REDACTED has access to the compound. As REDACTED is a stateless entity, and occupying ground beneath REDACTED, REDACTED is unable to initiate a direct attack. As such, all knowledge of your existence will be disavowed, and should you require assistance, none will be given. You are to enter the compound, obtain intelligence regarding the weapons, and terminate any threat inside. Lethal force has been authorised and is encouraged.

Buda Castle, Budapest, Hungary. 21:00 hours, 16 June, 2005.

The yellow Lamborghini Gallardo LP 570-4 Spyder Perfomante steadily approached Buda Castle, Royal Palace of Budapest. The spectacular architectural marvel was host to a gala for the UNICEF organisation, a typical meeting of the beautiful and the rich, something the average citizen of Hungary, or any country represented by the UN would probably not even know about. Tonight however, this gathering would be visited by not just the world’s deep pockets, but by its invisible protectors.

Clint Barton, sitting in the passenger’s seat of the exquisite automobile had just stowed away a folder inside the glove compartment as a slight cracking nosie was heard. The glove compartment, which could only be opened with a unique clearance card, held a specialised incinerator inside that had just been utilised to destroy the aforementioned folder. Clint scratched his chin, and checked his dark purple bowtie in the front mirror before looking over at his partner and driver. While the car itself was a wonder of human engineering, the woman’s beauty put it to shame; her name was Natasha Romanova.

“So what do you think?” she asked, never taking her eyes from the hectic road. Barton chuckled to himself before answering.

“I think that this Redacted guy is a real son of a bitch. He appears like 15 times.”

The car pulled up to the magnificent palace, and Natasha wearing her elegant ___dress not waiting for the valet to open her door, stepped out of the car and tossed the keys toward the approaching valet.

“Not a scratch” she said firmly in Hungarian. Clint flashed up a peace symbol toward the young man, his skill with languages not quite on par with that of his partner, and took Natasha’s arm. They climbed the steps and entered the palace, Clint in his tuxedo and Natasha easily filling out a sleek, black, haltered dress with a single slit down the right side. Of course it looked good, but it was also a gown specifically chosen to allow for Natasha to kick someone’s head, if the need arose. And the need usually arose; but for now it was the attention of one man that was required; Anton Misurovic. The two scanned the crowd, searching for the St Petersburg-born millionaire.

“Come on, Tasha, use your Russian Sense to find him.” Clint quipped as he guided his partner through the halls of the Buda Castle. Natasha turned and smiled through gritted teeth. “One day, Barton, I am going to hit you very, very hard.” As Clint attempted to retort, he spotted the target talking with an older gentlemen that Barton recognised as an economist working for the UN.

“Target sighted” he whispered, “do your thing, Tasha.

“God, this is so degrading.”

“Hey, it’s the job. I had to do it last time, and that Columbian guy was very handsy.”

Natasha pinched Clint in the arm and made her way toward the bar, her hips drawing the attention of virtually every man (and some women) in the vicinity. She retrieved two glasses of Dom Perignon, and upon her return voyage to Clint, who had now positioned himself a reasonable distance behind Misurovic, allowing the Widow to intersect with him on her trajectory. As planned, the “bumbling” Natasha gently so as to not spill the win, but forcefully enough to warrant attention, bumped into the mark. An angry Anton turned to admonish the fool who had crossed him when he noticed the gorgeous red head and other assets of his intended target. Naturally, both could hear what the other said, with state-of-the art microphones placed in their back molars, and almost-invisible receivers located in their ears. Nothing but the best for SHIELD personnel.

“My, are you all right, Miss..?” Anton asked, no longer thinking with his upstairs brain. “Belova. Yelena Belova. And, yes, I am perfectly fine, I’m so sorry about that.” Natasha answered, with a thick Russian accent, her natural accent. “It’s these damned heels.”

“Nonsense, I am sure your heels are as beautiful as the rest of you” he responded. Anton convinced he had been charming, led Natasha away from the group he was previously conversing with. Natasha giggled and smiled, as she would have done no matter what line Misurovic had used. But this time it was a sincere smile, however it was not directed at Anton. As he finished speaking, her partner’s voice had echoed in her ear via the receiver. “Oh my God. Can I shoot him now? I want to shoot him now.” Anton spoke again. “Two glasses, but I see only one woman. Did you not come alone?” Natasha nodded and gestured toward Clint. “There is my escort, but he’s terribly boring tonight. Would you care to dance?” Natasha asked seductively, biting her lip as she ended her request.

“Are you sure your boyfriend does not mind?” Anton looked toward Barton. Hawkeye stared at the two of them with an eerie gaze that seemed to peer directly into one’s soul and pry out all secrets. “No, he’s fine. He’s a gay friend, just overprotective.” Natasha leaned in close, tapped her collarbone and raised her right eyebrow. “Purple tie.” Anton nodded smugly in understanding. The two drank from the wine Natasha had collected previously, Misurovic’s glass being doused with sodium-pentothal, and moved into the waltz position and proceeded to dance. As they waltzed, Misurovic slipped his left hand down Natasha’s waist and rested it just above her posterior. Barton, who had now relocated to the buffet, offered further commentary.

“Oh, that’s good of him. He’s telling us which fingers he wants broken during the interrogation. Natasha, opting to not have her task interrupted further, decided to switch to speaking Russian. After approximately a half hour of dancing and seductive conversation, Natasha led Anton away from the party and into a previously selected private room. She pushed Misurovic up against the wall and kissed his neck.

“So tell me, Anton, where is the AIM base located?” Misurovic attempted to step back, except he was stuck against the wall, caught between his hard place and the Black Widow. Involuntarily, he replied “It’s here.” Natasha continued to kiss his neck, while asking again. “No, this is the Royal Palace, where is the underground AIM base?” Anton looked at her again, once more with disbelief, unable to move as the stronger Widow pinned him to the wall. “It is here, underneath the palace.”

“Are you kidding me? You mean I drove a luxury car around Budapest with a beautiful woman on my arm for no reason? Damn this job. Anyway, that’s my cue.” Suddenly the door flew open and Clint entered glaring at Natasha and Anton. He moved Natasha out of the way and tackled Misurovic to the ground. “That’s my wife, you REDACTED!” Anton looked up at Natasha, confused; “Wife? I thought you said he was gay!”

“Nope, straight as an arr- well you know.” Barton interjected, and with one well placed right hook, Misurovic was unconscious.

“OK, hit him with some MAD-74, then back to the car and we head down. Got it?” Natasha said sternly. “Sounds good to me.” Barton removed a syringe from his breast pocket and injected it into Misurovic’s neck. This was MAD-74, or Memory-Altering Drug-74. The MAD-74 was unlike other drugs, as it did not simply erase the memory, rather it removed the brain’s ability to understand language for the hour prior to injection. The MAD-74 was developed after numerous incidents involving high-profile targets of great means attempting to investigate their “lost” memories, leading to many problems for SHIELD. Instead, a standard practice was developed. One agent would seduce the target, take them to a private room, obtain the required intelligence through the use of enhanced sodium-pentothal, continuing to physically act as though seducing the target, and then have the agent’s “spouse” interrupt the process and render the target unconscious. Upon regaining consciousness, the target would then only remember meeting a man or woman, becoming enamoured, being led to a private room and then being assaulted by the person they saw them with earlier in the night. The inevitable deduction was that they had been attacked for attempting to commit adultery, and the issue was never brought up again.

The valet brought the Gallardo back to Natasha and Clint and she parked it several blocks away, where it would later be collected by SHIELD personnel. Equipped with cutting-edge security, it was not going to be stolen. Hawkeye had opened the trunk of the car and removed two satchels. He threw one to Natasha before they ditched the car, and both entered a nearby alleyway. Inside the satchels were their uniforms and weapons; for Natasha two standard issue Beretta pistols, and for Hawkeye, one bow and quiver. Under cover of darkness, the two headed back toward Buda Castle and the Hydra base. 

Part 2