The SHIELD chopper touched down on a discreet rooftop base in Budapest.
There were only six agents in this base who were disguised as American diplomats as SHIELD preferred to work from shadows.
Kakashi and Clint moved towards their target and reached the location in an hour.
Clint checked his quiver, his sharp eyes already locked on their target: a heavily guarded warehouse nestled in Budapest's industrial district.
Clint crouched, peering through binoculars. "Check the crests on those uniforms—Soviet insignias. Thought they dissolved with the USSR, but looks like Dreykov's got remnants playing soldier."
He lowered the binoculars, his expression grim. "Our orders are to take out Dreykov and Black Widow, but these goons? They're loyal to him. Even if we kill the general, they'll just find another Soviet relic to serve. We should clear them out too."
Kakashi nodded, his eye crinkling slightly. "Agreed. Clean house, no loose ends."
He appreciated Clint's pragmatism—no posturing, just mission focus. He was afraid that Clint was the one who would be jealous of someone with otherworldly skills but the man had a good head on his soldiers and was a reliable person to lead.
Clint smirked, slinging his bow over his shoulder. "Normally, I'd be sniping from a perch, picking 'em off one by one. But after seeing you in action, I'm thinking you can handle the front door. I'll cover you from above, take out snipers, and make sure no one slips away."
Kakashi's tone was dry. "Glad you're not some ego-tripping jackass trying to outshine me. I'll knock, you shoot."
'Finally, a teammate who knows his role. Makes this easier.'
"Let's go," Clint said, darting toward a nearby rooftop with the grace of a shinobi. Kakashi, meanwhile, strolled toward the warehouse's main gate.
The two guards at the gate snapped to attention, one barking, "Identification?" His tone was polite, professional—almost disarming.
Kakashi felt a pang of regret, 'Hate to ruin their day.'
"Sorry, guys," he muttered, his hands a blur. Two kunai flashed, embedding in the guards' throats before they could raise their rifles. They crumpled silently, and Kakashi sighed. 'Polite, but in the wrong line of work.'
An alarm blared, no doubt triggered by security cameras. Kakashi caught a sniper on a nearby roof aiming at him—only to jerk back, an arrow sprouting from his chest.
Kakashi turned to the warehouse's reinforced metal door.
He wove a single hand sign, lightning crackling around his fist.
'Sasuke's trick from the war—let's borrow it. Not that he can complain, I taught him it's main component.'
"Lightning Release: Chidori Sharp Spear!" A rod of blue electricity erupted from his hand, its edge razor-sharp. With a flick, he sliced the door in half, the metal parting like paper, sparks flying as it collapsed inward.
Inside, a dozen Soviet soldiers spun, rifles raised, their faces frozen in shock. Kakashi didn't hesitate, channeling more chakra into the spear.
"Raika!" he muttered, and the lightning rod branched, jagged tendrils skewering the soldiers' chests before they could fire. Blood sprayed, bodies collapsing in a symphony of death, the warehouse's interior now a graveyard of twitching corpses.
Kakashi dismissed the Chidori with a flick of his wrist.
He stepped forward, only to leap back as a figure dropped from the ceiling—a woman in a sleek black suit with red hair.
'Black Widow,' Kakashi thought, his Sharingan activated as he saw her draw two pistols, and firing at him, but Kakashi's enhanced perception slowed the bullets to a crawl. He sidestepped them effortlessly, as if dodging a child's clumsy swing.
Black Widow's eyes widened, surprise flickering across her face. She holstered her guns and launched into hand-to-hand combat, her movements a blur of flexibility and grace.
She spun low, aiming a kick at Kakashi's ribs, then flipped backward, her fists striking at his chest and throat. Kakashi blocked each move with minimal effort, his Sharingan predicting her attacks.
'She's surprisingly good—better than most chunin in taijutsu.' Her flexibility was her edge, contorting into angles that would've caught lesser fighters off guard, but Kakashi's reflexes were honed by years of fighting.
He parried a spinning kick, deflected a palm strike, and sidestepped a leg sweep, his movements fluid and unyielding.
'Enough of this dance,' he thought, catching her wrist mid-punch. He drove a swift kick into her ribs, the impact drawing a sharp gasp of pain.
She stumbled, clutching her side, but her eyes flicked up, a seductive smile curling her lips despite the pain.
"You wouldn't hurt a pretty, lone woman, would you?" she purred, her voice honeyed
Kakashi was amused. 'Every jonin's trained to resist seduction—genjutsu's worse than a flirty smile.'
But then he recalled Naruto's Sexy Jutsu, which had felled even seasoned shinobi like Jiraiya and the third Hokage.
'Okay, maybe not every jonin,' he thought, chuckling.
Without missing a beat, he punched her square in the face, sending her tumbling back, her lip bleeding. "Nice try," he said dryly. "But I'm not into femme fatale traps."
As he raised a kunai to finish the job, Clint burst through the door, his bow drawn. "Kakashi, some are escaping out the back! I'm not fast enough to catch 'em. You go—I'll handle her."
Kakashi nodded, his tone light. "Yo, watch out, Hawkeye. She's feisty." He vanished with bodyflicker jutsu.
---
Natasha Romanoff, bruised but still defiant, rose to her feet, wiping blood from her lip. She stared at Clint, "If you're going to take the shot, do it now."
Clint lowered his bow slightly, his expression softening. "I've done my homework on you, Black Widow. I saw you charge towards Hound after he took out your squad. You had a clear shot to escape with Dreykov, but you didn't. That wasn't confidence in your skills—trust me, I've seen that guy in action. All my confidence evaporated too. No, you wanted to die."
Natasha's face remained blank, but her eyes flickered with something—guilt, exhaustion, maybe both. "I'm loyal to General Dreykov," she said, her voice flat.
Clint sighed, shaking his head. "You're lying. I've seen that look before—the one that says you're done with the cage you're in. You want to burn the Red Room down, don't you? SHIELD can help with that."
Natasha's jaw tightened, her silence louder than words. Clint knew that his words struck a nerve.
'I just hope Fury would not put me in a cell for going against his orders.' Clint thought
--------Author Notes---------
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