Hawkeye and the Lost Phoenix

If I was to describe the place they had dumped me at in one word; that word would be shithole.
To be honest, the worst bit about it isn't the disgusting stench, or the weather, or even the constant air of death. Instead, it's the fact that it exists at all. To be honest, every place I've been is just another warzone. New York proved that.
It's been four weeks, six days, three hours and twenty-two fucking minuets since drop off in this desolate place. Worst bit is that I still don't have my further instructions.
'Hey, Hawkeye?'
Hey, Hawkeye, my ass. The guy's been a pain in my side since I arrived.
'What, Mo'?'
'Are you going to be shooting someone today with you arrow?'
Same question every morning.
'I told you; I'm here just to relax.'
The boy laughed. Threw his head back and everything. If he was a few years older, I probably would have smacked him.
'Mister, nobody come here for holiday. Only come here for problem.'
Kid was right. Nobody in their right mind would come to this place by choice to relax. So that meant that for whatever reason Fury had for send me to this hell, it wasn't good. There was a heavy knocking on the frame of the door-less apartment and a young woman poked her head through the two pieces of material which was supposed to act as a barrier for privacy. Her eyes were cast down as she held out a small rectangular object and whispered something softly. When it was obvious that I didn't understand what she had said, the kid, Mo', accepted the thing and held it out for me. I checked the caller id but of course it was unknown.
'Barton.' I answered.
'Finally.' Responded a female voice down the line. 'Agent Barton, this is Agent Maria Hills.'
'Hey Hills. Why so formal?'
'Never know who's listening... or what they remember.'
'You think that I'd forget you after seeing you only a little over a month ago? Maria, I'm insulted.'
I heard her soft chuckle then a throat being cleared. Fury couldn't talk to me directly; he had to get his second to. Well screw you too Director.
'Agent Barton, your contact will meet you at the co-ordinates that will be texted to you on your burn pone at the time given. Make sure to not only dispose of the burn phone but to also take the proper protocols and precautions-'
'Yeah, yeah. I know.'
She sighed.
'Be safe Clint.'
'Always am.'
'Mister Hawkeye?' called Mo.
Clint looked around and found the young boy staring at the dismantled weapons on the cot.
'What is it Mo?'
The boy reached out a tentative hand then balled it into a fist.
'Are you going to be shooting someone today with you arrow?'
For the first time, Clint chuckled. He reassembled the two pistols and stun gun. Clint slid his hunting knife into his boot then with one last glance at his bow and quiver, shook his head.
'Nah, Mo. Not today.'
The streets of Herat were busy, merchants and shoppers bustling along the streets. Clint kept his head down as he hurried to the meeting point. It wasn't about blending in, but rather making it to the meet without raising suspicion. Eventually he was out of the heart of the city and far along to the dirtier part of town. He noted how he had to thank Stark the next time they met. Through the dark shades he wore, he could keep tabs on the faces and weapons moving along the streets. When he finally reached the coordinates given, he froze. It seemed to be an average residential dwelling. Clint knocked tentatively and the door flung open. The man at the door said nothing, just pulled him inside. The inside of the building seemed to be as unassuming as the outside. From the front, he was led down a small hallway then through the back.
'What the f-' he began, only to have his words cut off when another man tapped his shoulder.
He spun around and caught a glimpse of an assault rifle and uniform under a tattered cloak. He was soon being dragged off, to where, he had no idea. They went through the back of another building before climbing through a trap door. That's went he understood.
'There's an illegal club here?'
The man that had dragged Clint took off his cloak and stretched.
'Where isn't there an illegal club, Agent Barton?' He laughed, grasping Clint's hand. 'I'm Special Agent Thomas Hamilton of U.N.D.E.R. Call me Ham, Tocky, Hamy but not Thomas or Tom.'
Clint raised an eyebrow in question.
'Tom was my grandfather and Thomas was my father.' He explained.
They were led to a small booth and ordered drinks. Clint quickly sent Ham's hand print scan to the data base along with a scan of his face while Ham spoke to a passing man. When Ham sat in the booth, he let out a loud groan, catching the attention of some of the people around them.
'So, the famous Hawkeye of the Avengers, out in Afghanistan. A holiday from New York, I assume?'
Clint choked on a mouthful of beer and shot Ham an incredulous look.
'What?'
'Which bit? Hawkeye or holiday?'
'Hawkeye. Then holiday.'
Ham took a swig from his glass then lent forward.
'That's what the people back home have been calling you. They had Iron Man, Hulk, Thor, Captain America, Black Widow and you, Hawk Eye.'
'Yeah, well... I didn't think anyone but the kid and the media actually called me that. And who's the Black Widow?'
'Natasha Romanov... You didn't know.'
Clint shook his head. He began to laugh, imagining Natasha's reaction to her name as the Black Widow.
'Okay. So you probably wanna know why you are here, right?'
Instead of answering, Clint just took another drink of his beer.
'Alright then... Well, I need your help to retrieve a package from one of the underground clubs.'
'Fury sent me to help you get some package?' Clint growled in disbelief.
'No. Fury sent you to help me get a package that my company hasn't been able to retrieve for the past year. The package and the information on our case will then be given to SHEILD before my company see's any of it.'
'And your directors fine with that?'
'My boss will be more than happy seeing as we're fucked up until we received that shit.'
Clint sat back again, showing Ham his poker face. Fury had sent him to help another agency recover some lost package. It had to big either really important or the director had to have lost faith in his ability. The scans had come back a while ago and Ham checked out. Well... mostly. The agency, UNDER, was not one he was familiar with. Clint had heard things from time to time, but he had never found out exactly who they were or what they did.
'What's in the package?'
'Need to know.'
'Yeah and if I'm going in, I need to know.'
'Seeing as it's an order from the top, I don't think you have a choice.'
Clint stood and leant over the table between them.
'I don't know how your agency works, but the way I work is quickly and with all the information that I need to complete it successfully. So Agent Hamilton, what is in the package?'
Hamilton sighed and downed the rest of his drink.
'Fine, Barton. You win.'
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NB: I am a big fan of the Marvel's Avengers. So when an idea hijacked my mind about a story, post New York (As in after the events of the Avengers Movie), with Hawkeye as the main character, i quickly put pen to paper to get it all out.
Obviously i do not own any of the Marvel Characters and/or concepts -this is a FanFic, lovlies. That being said, i do, however, own the new characters, worlds and concepts that appear in this story :) My brain made it, so it's mine, right?
Feel free to comment but try to keep it civil
Thanks and I hope you like it :)

Notes

This is my fanfic that I started posting on Wattpad then decided to post it up here as well :)