Coulson's expression didn't change in the slightest as he regarded the picture. Young saw a body, and Coulson sometimes wondered what it said about him that he saw an efficient kill, no collateral damage, no evidence of torture. Which really, only made this man that much more dangerous. He didn't run black ops missions, but he had been Barton's handler and Romanov's, so he knew very intimately what a well-trained assassin was capable of, what a person was like when they were unmade.

The odds might be stacked in their favor, but he was still asking Young to bet his life against a stranger's, at best. At worst...

He blinked, lifted his eyes from the picture.

"You would be," Coulson agreed. "I won't argue that it's a great deal more moral than what was already done, and if you have another suggestion, I'd be happy to hear it." Genuinely. Though he didn't expect there to be one. "I'll protect your identity. That doesn't guarantee your safety, but the risk assessments are enclosed in the file."

Which was no doubt not a comfort in the slightest. But if Young agreed to this, his clearance level went up, and the risks increased with it.

"This can be done." It had been done. "Trust me."

"I know I'm asking you is a lot," He continued. "Frankly, Agent Young, in this particular situation, we don't have options. We need your help." He hesitated briefly, shifted in his chair, and anyone who knew him might have noticed the way his shoulders slouched a fraction lower. "Because, with or without it, he wakes up."