After their discovery during the joint investigation with Phil Coulson, something in Clint's gut refused to settle. The feeling lingered long after they had finished comparing notes, quietly nagging at him and pointing him toward a particular location.
Once their business was concluded, both men went their separate ways with a kind of practiced subtlety that came from years in the espionage world. To any observer, they were simply two strangers crossing paths before continuing on with their lives. No lingering conversation. No familiar gestures. Nothing that could suggest a connection between them. Even so, Clint took additional precautions, making several deliberate moves to ensure he wasn't being tailed.
Satisfied with the results, he finally gave in to his instincts and headed toward the location that had been occupying his thoughts, fully intending to spend the night there.
Less than an hour later, Clint pulled up to a secluded private property. It wasn't a place many people knew existed, but he knew it well. More importantly, he knew exactly where the spare key was hidden.
Retrieving it from its hiding spot, he slipped it into the lock and gave it a few careful twists. While doing so, his eyes casually swept his surroundings, his head turning just enough to check his blind spots without making the movement obvious. Years of operating as both an agent and a vigilante had turned such habits into second nature.
A moment later, the lock clicked open.
Without wasting time on formalities, Clint stepped inside. The house served as one of Fury's safe houses, and as far as Clint knew, only the two of them were aware of its existence.
Back during his years with S.H.I.E.L.D., there had been occasions when he and Fury would deliberately vanish off the grid for a weekend and hole up in this very building. No missions. No reports. No world-ending crises demanding their attention. Just football on the television, a fridge packed with cold beer, and enough fried chicken drenched in sauce to feed an entire squad.
When Agent Hill had first informed him of Fury's disappearance, Clint had immediately checked the property. At the time, the place had been completely empty.
Now, crossing the familiar living room, he headed straight for the kitchen. Along the way, he grabbed the television remote and switched the TV on before continuing toward the refrigerator. The routine was automatic at this point. Moments later, he pulled open the fridge door and reached inside for a bottle of cold beer.
In no time, Clint found himself comfortably seated with a cold beer in hand. Every now and then he took a sip as he stared blankly at the television. The game playing on the screen barely registered in his mind. His eyes remained fixed on the display, but his thoughts were elsewhere, replaying everything he and Phil had uncovered during their investigation.
Dr. Grant Stone, a senior virology researcher affiliated with the National Institutes of Health and assigned to the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, had reportedly vanished without a trace. Then there was Dr. Marcus Hale, a program manager from DARPA's Biological Technologies Office, who had also been declared missing under circumstances that remained classified.
As Clint mentally sifted through the growing list of names, he found himself adding officials from CERN, NASA, and several other prestigious institutions. Individually, each disappearance might have been dismissed as an isolated incident. Together, however, they formed a pattern that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
A sudden chill crept through the room and pulled him from his thoughts. Clint glanced toward the fireplace before pushing himself out of his chair. The safe house had always been more functional than comfortable, and the temperature was beginning to remind him of that fact.
He crouched near the fireplace and began arranging a few pieces of prepared firewood from the nearby rack. As he worked, a stray thought surfaced. It was the kind of random memory that often appeared when piecing together a puzzle. Acting on instinct, Clint reached upward behind the interior wall of the fireplace, probing a spot that seemed increasingly unlikely to yield anything useful. For several seconds, his fingertips met nothing but rough brick and dust. Then the tip of one finger brushed against something that definitely didn't belong there.
Immediately interested, Clint grabbed a flashlight from a nearby drawer and directed its beam up through the chimney. Leaning forward, he poked his head inside and scanned the brickwork above. There, partially concealed against the wall, was a folded piece of paper that had been carefully tucked out of sight.
Stretching as far as he could, he managed to hook it with his fingers and pull it free. The paper crackled softly as he unfolded it. Inside were only a few words. One line read, "Coastal Mall Incident, new year's eve." Beneath it was a single name.
"Officer McCall."
Clint stared at the note for a moment, turning the information over in his head. It wasn't much, but it was something. Possibly the next breadcrumb Fury had left behind. Reaching for the matchbox resting on the fireplace mantle, he struck a match and held it beneath the paper's edge. The flames quickly consumed the note, curling the paper into blackened ash. As he watched it burn away, a faint but satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
- - -
Thor and Billy returned to Avengers Tower shortly after their meeting with the mysterious bartender, a man whom Billy had discovered possessed no shortage of surprises. The encounter had left plenty to think about, but for the moment, they set those thoughts aside as they made their way inside.
Upon arriving at the common area, they found the rest of the team already gathered. Some were lounging on the couches while others occupied nearby chairs, creating the familiar atmosphere of an informal team meeting. As soon as they entered, several pairs of eyes turned in their direction.
"Just in time," Tony remarked. "Clint was about to share an update regarding his investigation."
Billy acknowledged the comment with a nod before immediately making his way toward the ice cream machine. His priorities were clear. As it happened, Clint had only moments earlier helped himself to a cup.
"As you were saying before," Steve said, taking advantage of the brief interruption caused by their arrival, "best to get right on it and not take the opportunity to make yourself another cup of ice cream."
Clint glanced down at the cup already in his hand, spoon halfway to his mouth.
"Right."
Taking another scoop before setting the cup aside, he cleared his throat and prepared to brief the team on his latest findings.
A moment later, Clint pressed a button on a device resting on the table beside him. Instantly, a holographic display sprang to life. A projected profile materialized in the air, followed by several additional windows that expanded outward and arranged themselves in a neat formation for everyone to see.
'Cool,' Billy thought as he scooped a mouthful of ice cream into his mouth.
While enjoying his snack, he casually scanned the floating data alongside everyone else. Clint didn't immediately begin speaking, allowing the team a few moments to examine the information for themselves and draw their own conclusions.
"A report on missing persons?" Thor asked after a moment, one brow raised in curiosity.
"Look harder," Clint replied. "What do they all have in common?"
Steve leaned forward slightly as his eyes moved across the profiles.
"A report on missing scientists?" he asked cautiously.
Clint pointed at him with his spoon.
"There you go."
"Not just scientists," Bruce added, adjusting his glasses as he studied the display more closely. "There's a pattern."
Tony's eyes narrowed as he rapidly skimmed through the information.
"Each of them works in highly specialized fields," he noted. "Biotechnology, experimental physics, virology, alien biology, reverse-engineered extraterrestrial technology. None of these are random researchers. Every single one held an important position within their respective organizations."
"So did Fury." Natasha chipped in.
As the implications settled over the room, the atmosphere noticeably shifted. What had initially looked like a collection of unrelated missing persons reports was beginning to resemble something much larger—and far more deliberate.
"Ready for the best part?"
Clint's question immediately drew everyone's attention back to him. The archer deliberately paused for a moment, allowing a sense of anticipation to build before continuing. Around the common area, conversations died down and eyes settled on him. Even Billy, who had become surprisingly invested in the investigation, looked up from his ice cream with genuine interest.
By this point, the team had spent the better part of the briefing piecing together a puzzle made up of missing scientists, strange coincidences, and Fury's disappearance. Each new detail felt like another ingredient being added to an increasingly complicated recipe. Whatever Clint was about to reveal now felt like it could very well be the cherry on top—or at least the next major clue pointing toward Fury's whereabouts.
The team watched as Clint scooped up a generous mouthful of ice cream and popped it into his mouth. Seeing the thoughtful look that crossed his face, several of them unconsciously leaned forward in anticipation. Given the way he had been building suspense throughout the briefing, it almost felt like he was about to reveal some major breakthrough.
For a brief moment, Clint's eyes widened.
Then his mouth fell open.
"Oh, shit! Brain freeze!"
The painful exclamation burst from him as he immediately winced and reached for his temples, his entire face contorting in agony.
The room fell silent.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Tony's response perfectly captured the thoughts running through everyone else's minds. They had been expecting some dramatic revelation that would tie together the missing scientists, Fury's disappearance, and the shadowy conspiracy they were investigating.
Instead, Clint had interrupted the suspense by getting taken out by a spoonful of ice cream.
Around the room, the reactions varied between disbelief and disappointment. Some stared at him with dumbfounded expressions, while others simply shook their heads. A few looked genuinely annoyed that they had unknowingly leaned in to witness a grown man lose a battle against frozen dairy.
Meanwhile, Clint remained hunched over in his seat, one hand pressed against his forehead as he waited for the pain to pass.
"Worth it," he muttered stubbornly.
That only made the collective disappointment worse.
"All these disappearances," Clint began, gesturing toward the holographic profiles floating before them, "took place within a three-week to one-month period before the date Agent Hill reported Fury had completely disappeared off the grid."
A brief silence followed as the significance of the timeline settled over the room.
Billy's eyes widened.
"No freaking way!"
The outburst slipped out before he could stop himself, drawing several glances from around the room. Completely unbothered, he licked a scoop of ice cream from his spoon before continuing.
"There's got to be some deep government conspiracy behind all this."
Only after saying it did he become aware of the number of people looking at him. His gaze swept across the room, meeting a collection of amused, curious, and mildly exasperated expressions.
"Come on, people," Billy said, refusing to back down. "There's obviously some kind of conspiracy behind all this."
Rather than apologizing for interrupting, he doubled down with complete confidence.
"At least someone's entertained by all this," Tony remarked dryly.
A few chuckles threatened to spread around the room, but Clint quickly cleared his throat before side conversations and whispered debates could derail the briefing entirely.
With everyone's attention returning to him, Clint glanced down at the cup of ice cream in his hand.
"Ignoring the slightly disturbing fact that the kid seems to find missing persons reports entertaining," he said, "he's actually onto something with the conspiracy theory."
The last word had barely left his mouth before he scooped another spoonful of ice cream into it.
For a brief moment, Clint's attention shifted entirely to the frozen dessert. Years of discipline prevented him from voicing exactly how good it was, though judging by the thoughtful look on his face, it was taking a considerable amount of effort. After swallowing, he looked back up at the team.
"Because when you start lining up the dates, the professions, the organizations involved, and Fury's disappearance," Clint continued, his expression growing more serious, "it becomes a lot harder to believe any of this is random."
"This whole thing has been a conspiracy ever since those creatures started flooding our streets," Steve said, fixing Clint with a pointed look. "So how about you stop enjoying that ice cream a little too much and give us the rest of the report?"
The comment earned a few amused looks around the room.
Steve's impatience wasn't entirely unwarranted. Matters involving Fury's disappearance and a potential large-scale conspiracy warranted the team's full attention, and Clint seemed unusually relaxed considering the gravity of the subject.
Then again, everyone in the room knew Clint Barton.
He possessed an uncanny ability to switch between two extremes. One moment he could be lounging on a couch with a bowl of ice cream, cracking jokes and acting as though he didn't have a care in the world. The next, he could seamlessly transition into the focused and disciplined soldier who had survived countless missions for S.H.I.E.L.D.
The contrast was so natural that Steve had long suspected Clint occasionally leaned into his carefree persona deliberately. It allowed him to present disturbing information without immediately putting everyone on edge. Panic and tension often narrowed a person's perspective. By keeping the atmosphere relatively relaxed, Clint ensured people could look at the bigger picture rather than becoming fixated on a single alarming detail.
Clint shrugged and set his spoon down.
"If you can recall," he began, "Agent Hill mentioned that S.H.I.E.L.D had to cooperate with another governmental body during all this."
As he spoke, several members of the team appeared to be searching their memories.
"The interesting part," Clint continued, "is that Hill said this organization was so far above her clearance level that she wasn't even authorized to know its name."
That immediately drew more focused attention as the room grew quieter.
"What if," Clint said, leaning slightly forward, "this shadow organization used various government agencies, scientific institutions, and research organizations to gain access to the resources they needed?"
He paused briefly before continuing.
"And once whatever project they were working on reached a certain point, they made the people closest to it disappear because those people had become loose ends."
The theory lingered in the air.
"Damn," Bruce muttered as he adjusted his glasses. "Now that sounds like an actual conspiracy."
"It's also a lot to process," Natasha added.
Nothing quite fit together yet. Every answer seemed to generate two new questions, leaving them with little more than educated guesses and theories.
"We need to know who these people are," Tony said. "And more importantly, what they're actually working on."
Though he hadn't directed the statement at anyone in particular, Clint immediately recognized it for what it was.
A new objective.
"Easier said than done," Clint replied. "Even a high-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D agent like Hill couldn't get information on them. If they're operating at that level of secrecy, we're not exactly going to find their employee directory online."
"Then how exactly are we supposed to get information on them?" Steve asked aloud.
The question wasn't directed at anyone specifically, but it gave everyone something to think about.
For several moments, silence settled over the room as each Avenger considered the problem from their own perspective.
Then Thor cleared his throat.
The sound immediately drew attention his way.
"Earlier," he began, "I met with one of my sources."
A few eyebrows rose at that.
Thor continued.
"All he knew regarding this recent wave of invading creatures was that it somehow traces back to an event that occurred on New Year's Eve."
The moment those words left his mouth,
Clint's relaxed demeanor vanished almost instantly.
The transition was so seamless it was easy to miss.
One second he was casually holding a cup of ice cream.
The next, the veteran agent sitting in the chair had returned.
His posture straightened as his eyes sharpened. Every trace of amusement disappeared as his gaze locked onto Thor.
The mention of New Year's Eve had clearly struck a nerve.
And judging by the sudden seriousness that had overtaken him, Clint knew something the rest of them didn't.
"Your source?"
Tony's skepticism was obvious, and judging by the expressions around the room, the others felt much the same. No one had expected Thor to become invested enough in this situation to conduct investigations of his own, let alone return with information from a mysterious contact.
"Yes," Thor replied simply.
Before anyone could ask the obvious follow-up question about who this source was, he raised a hand slightly and continued.
"I cannot disclose anything about him, but he is both competent and reliable."
What Thor left unsaid was that the bartender from the hidden bar apparently dealt in more than drinks. Rowan Vale also traded in information, operating as an information broker on the side.
Thor's insistence that Billy reveal his transformation had not been for entertainment or showing off the kid's powers after all. It had been payment. The existence of Billy's powers—and the sight of that divine lightning transformation—had served as the price for the information Thor wanted, fitting neatly into the rather unusual forms of payment the transmigrator of a reincarnating bartender accepted.
"And what incident could possibly be connected to something this absurd several months later?" Steve asked, trying to recall anything significant that had happened around New Year's Eve.
"Did your source mention where this incident took place?" Natasha asked, hoping a location would narrow things down. Unknowingly, she had voiced the exact question Clint had been about to ask.
"Aye," Thor answered. "He said it happened at some mall."
"The Coastal Mall, or Seaside Shopping Center?" Clint asked immediately.
Thor turned toward him and gave a confirming nod.
The quick response drew everyone's attention.
"Interesting," Tony said, leaning forward slightly in his seat. There was a noticeable hint of skepticism in his voice as he regarded Clint. "Care to enlighten the rest of us about this incident?"
He managed to keep a straight face while asking the question, though it took a conscious effort not to accompany the word 'incident' with a set of sarcastic air quotes. Given everything they had uncovered so far—the missing scientists, the secretive government organization, Fury's disappearance, and now a seemingly random event at a shopping mall months earlier—Tony was finding it increasingly difficult to believe that the word adequately described whatever had actually happened there.
For a moment, Clint didn't answer. His gaze slowly lowered toward the floor, his expression turning thoughtful in a way that suggested old memories were being dragged to the surface.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before.
"That's what I'd like to know."
The answer hung heavily in the room.
Because if Clint recognized the location but still couldn't find out what had happened there that night, then whatever occurred at that mall had likely been so well contained and properly hidden from far more people than they had realized.