[right]The Far, Far Past
Madripoor[/right]
Clint watched people run past him. But none of them were his target. He was had seen a photo of the woman and she was not in the crowd. Which meant she was getting away. He didn't need Coulson hissing it in his ear. Since his handler couldn't hear him anyways, Clint ignored in in favor of finding another entrance to the ballroom. 

Clint turned another corner to find the next door to the ballroom wide open. He cursed under his breath as he slowed to a stop. Then he bends down. There's a small drop of blood on the floor and a few smears on the door. Clint was sure if he looked inside the ballroom there'd be more. 

"[color=bc8dbf]Messy. Messy[/color]." Clint tisked. He straightened back up and took a moment to look around. Sadly it wasn't like the movies. There was no trail of blood anywhere. Clint knew it wouldn't be that easy. He just had to choose the right direction to find her. Without considering the seconds he already wasted he picked the way he knew lead to outside the fastest. He just hoped Coulson's eyes in the sky would be enough to get another bead on her before she escaped.

"Widow sighted on the east corner." Coulson's voice came over the comms as Clint finally made it outside. The archer used the door he just opened to abruptly change his direction. His breath was coming in long controlled breaths. He was nowhere near winded. But if the chase went on all night with him running...

Clint really wanted this night to be over already. Still, he raised his bow as he spotted a woman running. He drew back the string and released. The arrow sailed true.[hr][right]The more recent Past
Some warehouse in Texas[/right]
Clint was testing the tension in his bow when Nat's voice came over the comms. So much for radio silence. He didn't spare a thought for her words. Nat was always self sacrificing. Something to do about making up for the things she had done in the past. She drove herself too hard. And somewhere deep inside she still expected to be abandoned. It's far easier to justify when she initiated it. But Clint would never leave his partner in the lurch.

He drew his bow fully and shifted position until he could see Nat. She was facing down men in suits.

[color=a187be][i]Fuck. Where did they come from?[/i][/color] Clint thought in horror. He released his arrow right into the group of them. A grey smoke cloud billowed out, hopefully giving Nat the edge she needed until he could pick off a few. 

He already had another arrow nocked against the bow string before the first arrow even hit the ground. He pulled back the string and aimed. He exhaled and his fingers loosed their grip. That was when he felt something his him between his shoulder blades. Hard.

Clint pitched forward. His arrow going wild. He kept a hold of his bow and swung it around. It didn't hit anything. Clint allowed the force of the swing to turn him around and found the catwalk empty. His sharp eyes didn't see any movement either. 

As the archer slowed to a stop there was another impact on his back. This time it took him to the floor of the catwalk. The weight felt familiar. Nearly like Natasha's when they spared and she got him from behind. 

"Should have run when you had the chance." A woman's voice hissed him his ear.

"[color=a187be]Take your own advice[/color]." Clint hissed back, no longer worried about giving away his position. They were making enough noise to raise the dead. He allowed his words to be used as a distraction. Nat had taught him more than this woman realized. He was able to control his fall and use it to his advantage.

The woman pressed something to his neck, but Clint was already rolling them over. There was a small line of fire as they rolled, but it wasn't major. Just a scratch. It would be bad if it was poisoned though. His free hand reached over to his quiver even as he felt the woman try to regain her element of surprise.[hr][right]The Present
Libson, Portugal[/right]
Clint clutched at the [i]Oh Shit[/i] bar as he was unceremoniously forced to the side. The screeching of tires made the archer wince. There was no sense in maintaining stealth. Not after their outside gun battle and the grenade. 

"[color=bc8dbf]Couldn't have made that turn any tighter could you?[/color]" Clint asked when he finally felt safe enough to release his death grip. "[color=bc8dbf]I'm not sure, but I feel like Astronauts had less Gs on them on reentry.[/color]

"[color=bc8dbf]Anyways.[/color]" Clint plowed on. "[color=bc8dbf]You better make me a nice funeral. Make Stark foot the bill. It's his fault I'm here anyways.[/color]" 

Clint pulled out a small Stark tablet and poked at it. He plugged in a set of head phones and put the other end to his ear. He hissed in frustration and pulled out the buds. 

"[color=bc8dbf]Static. We're not receiving anymore.[/color]" They'd be driving up to Yuri's blind. They wouldn't even know if his squad of Goons had lived. This was a complete and total mess. And he was going to harass Stark about it endlessly. And Nat too. Just because he could. Laura wouldn't let him complain to her after all.

"[color=bc8dbf]You know[/color]." Clint began with a mischievous tone to his voice. "[color=bc8dbf]This reminds me a little of Stalingrad.[/color]" He smirked at her. "[color=bc8dbf]You me and that bottle of Vodka. Of course,[/color]" He paused. "[color=bc8dbf]I cant really remember what happened next. But I'm sure I was awesome.[/color]"

The two assassins were nearing Yuri's place thanks for Nat's breakneck speed. All too soon they'll learn Yuri's fate. And what they'd have to do next. Stark was lucky they liked him. Spending all this effort. Clint commented on that aloud to Natasha also. Babbling along, not really caring if she would answer anything. It was hard to tell with Nat when she was in her Black Widow mode if she'd try to clock him for talking to much, or join in. Or even somewhere in the middle of the spectrum.