Logs Talk:Safe

Tucked into the support struts of the overpass that gives the neighborhood its name, invisible from all but a few select angles accessible mainly to birds, Clint watches the three men talk. His tactical vest and pants are in several shades of dark gray, and he wears a folded compound bow and a quiver on his back. His sleek goggles incorporates a visual overlay currently displaying a computer-enhanced magnification of his view, with lines of glowing text superimposed across the bottom.

FURY, N.: They're both SPL3, known associates of Jackson Holland and Ryan Black.

Clint's jaw works as he subvocalizes. "Can we change the Surveillance Priority Level assessment protocols to include ease of lipreading?" His mouth twists to one side in annoyance. "The Asian one mumbles. Let's knock him down to 4."

FURY, N.: I don't care if he's speaking in tongues, as long as you stay on them.

"He might be, for all I know." Clint rolls his shoulders and re-settles himself across the struts. "Don't worry, Boss. I'll keep Captain Rogers safe."

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