"So, we'll have one round, it's a fight 'till forfeit match. Hand to hand, no weapons, OK?"

"Sure." It didn't really make a difference to the broken God.

They positioned themselves on the mat and Stark called count down.

"Natasha's the ref., start in 3...2...1!"

Nothing happened.

The two soldiers stayed perfectly still for a full minute before they even twitched.

"This isn't as exciting as I thought it would be." Stark commented drily.

"Patience Stark, patience." The red-haired super-spy had seen this type of fight before.

The two soldiers watched each other, surveying. Then they started to circle, watching every move like Barton's namesake. Every twitch; every tensed muscle.

Limitless patience was shown in the young boy's style, at odds with his supposed ADHD. You could almost tell that he could wait forever and still be prepared every second for a surprise attack.

Cap launched offence, a punch with enough power behind it to stun the hulk, aimed at the cold eighteen-year-old's sternum. It could've flawed a golden glove boxer.

If it connected, that is.

It never got the chance though.

All the 'heroes' expected the boy's only chance to be to dodge the wrecking-ball punch, they should've known better than to underestimate the soldier by now.

The punch came towards him like a comet; he caught it.

He caught the punch. His fingers wrapped around it, stopping it dead in it's tracks.

Silence.

Then he struck.

The boy span into Cap's outstretched arm, striking every pressure point along it; precision which would impress a surgeon, which impressed an assassin, with such speed the spectators could barely see him and the poor Captain never knew what hit him.

Percy completely disabled his arm and torso. Making it seize up, paralysed, then flipped over his opponent, catching the Cap in a headlock as he went over the man's head and brought him down with him as he landed, one knee down the other up, the Cap's head still locked in his arm.

Captain America was pinned and only half conscious and it had taken the teenager less than a second.

Silence. Complete silence. Percy won. Cap groaned slightly.

"Wow," Stark was never one to hide his opinion, "That was impressive kid."
"Not a kid." Stark shrugged as the soldier released the Captain.

"Still impressive." Fury cleared his throat.

"Romanov, you're next."

"This is getting boring." The new God didn't really see the point of what they were doing except for the distraction.

"Tough." Fury answered. The soldier shrugged, oh well.

"So what will the assassin be testing me on?"
"Weapon skills." The assassin in question wasn't messing around; her tone was brisk and to-the-point. He could respect that, too many people had tried to sugar coat things for him in the past.

"Alright then, what are we starting with?"
"Short ranged guns." She handed him a hand gun and directed him to the targets at the other end of the gym. "You have the gun. Now shoot the target."

The veteran didn't even walk closer. He turned around, glanced fleetingly at the target and shot. No hesitation. No fear. Just shot.

The Black Widow raised an eyebrow, staring at the target.

"Ever shot a gun before?" She asked.
"Never." He answered.
"Well done then. Now do it again on the other targets." She demanded.

"What's going on, Nat?" The egotistical billionaire butted into the assassins' dialogue.

"Shut up, Stark."
The soldier shot the rest of the target, barely looking before he pulled the trigger each time.

He's shot at all of them in a few seconds. Not even flinching at the recoil.

"Report, Romanov." Fury's order rang through the gym.

"Perfect scores, sir. Dead centre with every one. His form is perfect and I can't fault his technique."

They were stunned to say the least. Natasha Romanov, the Black Widow, best in her field and harshest critic in the agency, had just scored a first-time-shooter perfectly. Stark couldn't believe it.

"Seriously?! I can't hit them all perfectly, especially not that quickly, even with countless hours practice and JARVIS calling the shots!" He protested.

Percy remained emotionless.

"Where did you learn to shoot like that, boy?" The Director of SHIELD didn't like not knowing. 

"Don't you still think I'm a terrorist?"

"No normal terrorist is that skilled and they've all used guns before." The government director was surprisingly honest.
"Maybe I'm a special terrorist who's lying." Percy suggested, facing the group of 'superheroes' without flinching.

"Tell me boy!" Fury was running out of patience.

"No." He didn't even blink at the super-spy's sudden rage.

"Take him back to his cell! Now!" The soldier didn't protest in any way when they shackled him in heavy chains and led him back to his cell.

"You should just cooperate, kid."
"I'm not a kid."  Barton sighed.

"Just trying to help." The soldier stopped for a minute and stared at the archer. Suddenly, for a moment, he could feel every one of the scars covering his body, hidden by the mist, and the memories of his friends, the ones he kept so carefully hidden, hit him. The distraction of these spies slipping for a moment.

He took a deep breath, regaining his composure.

"I appreciate that." The Archer did a double take, not expecting the obvious honesty.

"You're welcome." And he led him to the cell.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I need to know about him!" Fury was not happy. "Banner, you go in and finish your medical evaluation, find out as much as you can about him!

"Yes, sir."
"Now, Banner!"