Chapter 41: Hawkeye in Action

When Hawkeye Barton, standing at six-foot-three, entered the office, he found Fury, always clad in a black trench coat, hands in pockets and leaning against the desk. Fury spoke in his usual low, direct voice, “Clint, we’ve lost contact with Natasha.”

“What happened?” Hawkeye was still in civilian clothes; he’d rushed over as soon as he got the call and had no idea what was going on.

Fury gave him a brief explanation of Black Widow’s mission.

“In the past four days, she’s failed to check in with us twice. That’s not normal,” Fury said.

“For Natasha, that’s definitely unusual,” Hawkeye nodded, well-acquainted with Black Widow’s habits. She was always punctual. “What do you need me to do?”

Hawkeye and Black Widow were longtime partners, close friends. If she was in trouble, he wouldn’t stand aside.

Fury moved to the desk, picked up a file, and handed it to Hawkeye.

In a world surrounded by modern technology, Fury—an old hand from World War II—was probably the only one at S.H.I.E.L.D. still patiently using paper files and pagers.

Hawkeye glanced through the file and immediately frowned. “The Apostle? You had Natasha investigating this person?”

Being on leave didn’t mean he was out of touch. Hawkeye was well aware of who the Apostle was.

The Apostle had recently emerged as a dangerous figure—brazen enough to clash openly with Iron Man, clearly not someone to be trifled with.

That Natasha had gone missing while investigating him made Hawkeye’s heart sink.

Fury’s single eye fixed on Hawkeye. “Bring her back.”

Hawkeye nodded solemnly. “I will.”

He left the director’s office with the file in hand.

Outside, Hawkeye wasted no time changing into his tactical gear and gathering his specialized equipment:

A custom-made composite bow equipped with an infrared sight, crafted from titanium alloy, boasting a precision of less than 0.2 millimeters.

His modified quiver was packed with eleven types of arrows, each with its unique function.

He wore a suit of tight-fitting battle armor made from Kislav fibers.

According to the intelligence in the file, the tracker implanted beneath Black Widow’s skin was still transmitting a signal.

This meant only one thing: Black Widow had been captured and was being held somewhere, but was not yet in mortal danger.

S.H.I.E.L.D.’s tracker was custom-built; if removed or if the host died, it would immediately send a signal and then self-destruct.

Satellite images showed that Black Widow’s signal had been stationary for four days inside a building in New York.

This was a rescue mission.

The adversary was likely the Apostle himself.

If that were the case, a frontal assault would be the worst possible approach. Director Fury must have considered this, which was why he’d called Hawkeye back.

Hawkeye examined another file.

The intelligence indicated that the building was an abandoned warehouse in Queens. The owner, an American who became a Canadian citizen five years prior and now lived in Ottawa, had already been contacted by S.H.I.E.L.D. and was under police control.

According to the owner’s statement, he’d listed the warehouse for rent online, and all payments were processed digitally. Police were still investigating.

“That suggests the Apostle is cautious—a veteran.”

Hawkeye couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Every minute lost could increase Natasha’s danger. He needed to rescue her immediately—just as she had once saved him.

Fully armed, Hawkeye drove a Chevrolet straight toward his target. “Apostle, let’s see what you’re made of.”

…

At lunchtime, Luke prepared a delicious Bonina burger for himself. Out of humanitarian consideration, he made one for Black Widow as well.

“Eat. Don’t worry, there’s no poison,” Luke said, sliding the burger through a reserved opening in the reinforced glass cell.

Black Widow didn’t hesitate. She took a bite and sincerely said, “It tastes great.” But she didn’t eat much, setting it aside.

Luke didn’t ask why; he knew it wasn’t for dieting.

He glanced at the stainless-steel basin—empty.

Shrugging, Luke moved to the lathe, finished his burger in a few bites, and resumed tinkering with the pile of mechanical parts.

Beside him stood a large mech dock over six meters high, with a massive robotic arm suspended from above.

In these past days, he’d already assembled the skeletal frame of the G-0 War Lord’s arm, completed its internal circuitry, and was now installing external armor.

He worked openly, right in front of Black Widow, without hiding anything.

Luke had his reasons.

Dealing with S.H.I.E.L.D. was inevitable. Natasha’s disappearance was too conspicuous; they would send someone soon—probably within a day or two.

Luke guessed Fury wouldn’t come in guns blazing.

From what he knew of the man, Fury preferred diplomacy and recruitment over outright hostility once facts were established—just as he’d done with Tony Stark.

Luke expected Fury would send someone, but not a large team.

He wondered who it might be.

Fury’s circle of real fighters could be counted on one hand.

And among them, Luke feared none.

In the end, both sides would have to sit down and negotiate.

The more formidable he appeared now, the more likely Fury would try to win him over. Others didn’t know, but Luke was aware of the secret ambitions Fury harbored. The Avengers, of course.

Luke currently had little interest in joining the Avengers. If he were offered leadership, he might consider it.

He leaned toward establishing his own power base within the Marvel universe.

He wanted to show Fury that friendship was possible, but only if S.H.I.E.L.D. treated him as an equal.

Luke believed there was only one way to secure equality—by first proving his strength.

When negotiations finally began, having Black Widow witness all this would add leverage, making Fury even more cautious and forcing him to compromise.

Perfect.

To be blunt, Luke needed a witness to the birth of the G-0 War Lord, piece by piece, from his own hands.

As an intelligence operative, Black Widow naturally seized the opportunity to observe the Apostle up close. She memorized nearly every move Luke made, growing more astonished with each passing moment.

She wasn’t an expert in mechanical engineering, but it was clear Luke was exceptionally skilled.

Unable to contain her curiosity, she asked, “All this—and your skills—how is it possible? You’re only seven, aren’t you?”

“If I told you I’m a genius, would you believe me?” Luke replied without turning, his hands dancing over the lathe.

Natasha considered it carefully and answered, “I believe you.”

She’d known many precocious children; she herself was one.

The Red Room, the former Soviet KGB’s elite spy training institute, was where she’d learned her assassination and espionage skills from childhood. The Red Room made her, but it was also a past she preferred not to discuss.

Children raised in the Red Room matured quickly, but none matched Luke’s extreme brilliance.

Black Widow attributed everything she’d seen to extraordinary genius. It was the only explanation for why Luke, so young, possessed not only remarkable physical prowess but also the ability to craft technology coveted even by the military.

Just then, the warehouse’s alarms suddenly blared.

“What’s happening?” Black Widow’s brows arched, her heart quickening.

“Someone’s here.”

Luke strode over to a computer screen, which displayed several images.

This was an AI security system designed by Christina, analyzing thousands of cameras in the surrounding streets, constantly assessing for threats.

On the screen, a tall figure appeared, driving a car suspiciously down the street. After parking, his behavior was immediately flagged and magnified by Christina.

The man on screen had eyes sharp as a hawk.

“Hawkeye?”

Luke had expected him.

Black Widow saw her old partner on the monitor. Her lips pressed together, but she remained silent.

Out of someone’s mischievous whim, the alarm’s audio now declared, “Enemy will reach the battlefield in thirty seconds… Crush them!”

Black Widow was startled.

She quickly called out, “Hey, don’t hurt him. Clint’s just trying to rescue me…”

But Luke was already seated in the airborne armor, Gale, launching out of the warehouse as the hatch sealed behind him.

“Who knows if that little rascal heard me or is just pretending not to,” Black Widow thought, watching the blue sky vanish as the roof closed, her heart truly anxious for Hawkeye…