Note: Due to @boschepg being busy he asked me to post this up for him. :)
Written by boschepg
HAWKEYE 2: Men at War
My Name is Clint Barton and I am an Avenger.
I have been for a long time.
I haven't ran with the active team for quite some time, but I still get granted certain perks due to my association with the team. Just imagine going to a Christmas party thrown by Tony Stark. It's absolutely CRAZY! The after-party is even better.
The problem being a public figure and all is getting noticed by villains tends to get a lot easier these days. See that face I'm making now. That's the, "How am I going to get out of this mess," face.
24 HOURS AGO:
"Can I help you?"
"Yeah," Hawkeye stated, sliding a pair of glasses higher on the bridge of his nose as his other hand wiped the sweat beading down his brow from the desert heat. Though he had a light button up shirt, visible patches of sweat began to pool on the fabric in the oddest places. "My name is Bart Clinton and I need a room for two."
It wasn't much, but Hawkeye placed a fabricated ID on the counter knowing the spycraft machine that created it eliminated the existence of Clint Barton and created only Bart Clinton. The look was a slight alteration, almost silly to even think about it, but the devil was definitely in the details. A fabricated new identity was made for his new self: work history, credit history, even a computer search history that went months to even years back concerning a Brazzers account.
"Do you have a reservation?" The hotel clerk asked with a strange look as he looked at Hawkeye's ID.
Hawkeye matched the stare, "No. Is that a problem?"
"We have a convention this weekend, Sir." The clerk said with a devilish grin.
Hawkeye's face turned red, turning away from the clerk toward the few that were in the lobby. "What convention is that? This is Albuquerque. Is there some chili cook off I don't know about?"
The clerk's eyes began to roll in annoyance. "Its your standard zombie convention."
"Walking Dead?" Mockingbird asked from afar.
The clerk shook his head in a more pleasant manner than he did to Hawkeye. "They say some of the cast members from Shaun of the Dead and 28 Weeks Later will be in attendance. Simon Pegg, Robert Carlyle, Jeremy Renner.... "
"Jeremy Renner..." Hawkeye's head snapped back quickly at the name. "Jeremy Renner is going to be here?"
"Supposedly..."
"He's a pretty good actor," said an impressed Hawkeye.
Pushing Hawkeye's ID back to him. "He is okay. Either way, this hotel is booked because of it."
Hawkeye stepped back, silent with his stare not removing itself from the clerk. It wasn't until Mockingbird stepped in, placing her arm between the two trying to prevent an altercation from occuring.
"Its okay, dear." Mockingbird said with a smile. "I found an open hotel room on the corner of Comanche on my cell."
LATER...
Night had met Albuquerque.
The small New Mexico city is never mistaken for a bustling metropolis, but on this night a peculiar feeling had crawled over the area. The night just seemed darker, the wind blew crisper, and there was a such a stillness that you would think it was abandoned.
Three men had managed to make their way to the hotel lobby and to the fifth floor hallway, each quiet as they headed for one door in the middle of the hallway and then stop. They look at each other, all three pulling a handgun from their side. One managed to override the electronic lock to the room as they continued their approach.
It was a small one bed room, but the three continued inward with a precision showing advanced training in their movement and silence, each one of them reading for anything that could await them around a corner. The three hover over the lone bed in the room, each one emptying a silent clip into the covered mattress.
Though the suppressed gunfire is barely over a whisper, it is loud enough to cover Hawkeye's entrance into the room from above. Upside down, only his legs hold his weight as he dangles from the ceiling paneling. He pulls back on his bow string, the idler wheel of his compound bow inching ever slowly until reaching a taut point before his release. He inhales ever so slowly, releasing a breath as his trigger hand releases the string to launch his attack. It was silent and quick, and if it wasn't for the thousands of volts of electricity coursing through their body, Hawkeye would have been a complete ghost.
"I got three down, Bobbi," whispered Hawkeye into his com-link. "I guess dropping our location was a good thing back at the other hotel."
"Did you have doubt?"
"No, but I thought your ID for me would have lasted a little longer."
"What did you expect," Mockingbird huffed. "You run around the world without a mask these days.
"That isn't my fault," Hawkeye shamefully responded. "People were beginning to think I was Wolverine when I did night operations."
His ex-wife could do nothing but shake her head in disbelief. "Hallway is clear on my end."
"These guys are still somewhat ticking after the licking my electric arrow gave to them." Glancing over the stunned bodies, lying almost lifeless on the ground, he noticed an odd grayish hue to their complexion, almost questioning their humanity. For a guy that had teamed with the Hulk and the Vision, calling the three down on the ground weird was not normal. "I'm sure glad your S.H.I.E.L.D boys told me not to hold back on power. If I hadn't, I don't think my usual setting to knock out their group would have been enough."
"I'm glad your happy, Clint. Now tell me what else do you have from your position?"
Mockingbird usual attitude toward Hawkeye caused the archer to laugh as he headed over to the window. He braced against the wall, slightly opening the room's curtains as he surveyed the street. There was nothing but darkness from his vantage point until he saw them, a pair of red eyes opening from the depths of darkness below. Hawkeye couldn't tell where the eyes were directed, but they burned brightly in the distance as if it was a call to arms. An uneasy feeling raced through his spine as he noticed another red pair open in the distance, and then another, and another, until the red engulfed the black of night and made it look like a sea of blood racing toward their location.
"Oh flark!," Hawkeye choked over his com-link. "We have an issue."
"Leviathan?" Mockingbird asked, easily picking up on the distressed pitch in his voice.
"I don't know, but whoever it is, they are coming this way."
Next issue: Leviathan is here. Ready or not, here they come.
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