10836/Catching the Chief

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Catching the Chief
Date of Scene: 21 April 2022
Location: Carter-Sousa Home - Long Island
Synopsis: Director Carter is captured by Hydra agents out of her own home and has left no trace.
Cast of Characters: Peggy Carter, Natasha Romanoff




Peggy Carter has posed:
Wednesday night. Peggy's alone, having left the office at a reasonable hour even though her husband is stuck with paperwork. It means she's attempting her hand at making dinner tonight, so he doesn't have to worry about it when he gets there. The lovely new 4 bedroom house in Westchester is just the perfect mix of vintage and modern updates, with hardwood floors, a six gas burner range, marble countertops, and lovely vintage wood trim through the whole first floor. She's not bothered to turn on the security system since she got home -- there's no reason to be worried about a break in, right? Granted, the cameras are still going, but she settled into comfortable safety in her new home.

Still in the wrap dress from the day, her high heels are off, exchanged with comfortable slippers, and she's tied an apron on over her rounding belly because chances are she's going to drop something on it while she's cooking. Some quiet jazz music plays from the record player in the background.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
It's fairly quiet out over in the late evening. The jazz music is slowly going along, a lazy, quiet tune to have in the background. There's a bit of a jump over on the old vinyl track. A fresh scratch on it. To some, a scratch might be a sign of personality and indivudlaism to the record, something to make it unique. To others, it would be in the way of proper appreciation and was a sign of wear and tear.

There's a light chime from the cameras, a lsow chirp and then a reboot. The thing about an old home was modern electronics and it didn't always get along.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The record scratch gets a little bit of a frown from her, dark eyes turning over her shoudler as she considers how much they've played this record or if something happened in the move. Then she's looking back to her beef and Guiness stew, stirring it with the big wooden spoon and putting the lid back on before forcing herself to step away. It just needed to simmer, she didn't need to fuss.

The reboot of the cameras, that little chirp, is enough to make her frown even more. She might be paranoid, but she's an old spy too. She steps around to the side board, thumbing in her code on the little number pad and sliding it open so she can pull her hidden gun out. "...Hello? Daniel?" She calls hopefully to the door.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
From the front door, there's the sound of a 'thump'. The tell-tale sound of a breaching charge being put on and readied. Another buzz fills the air; the slight hum that an experienced ear could tell was the hum of a jamming field. No messages would be getting out in the next few minutes.

The light tell-tales of individuals moving along the front walk, taking partial cover and readying for a break-in.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Well shit." Peggy hates when her paranoid instincts are right. The breaching charge and jammer sound is enough to tell her she probably isn't going to get back up, but she's only hearing feet around the front, so she immediately begins to run for the back. She probably should hit the panic room, but it wasn't even entirely installed or sealed yet. They'd be able to get in.

So, she's going for the farthest back door, the one that spills into the woods off the back of the property, a highway on the opposite side. If she can get that far, she'll probably be fine. She's running hard as her feet can take her.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
From the front, the sound of weapons fire goes to fill the air, even as the breaching Hydra agents are no doubt aware of her running towards the back, ducking for partial cover in case she goes to shoot at them. They're putting their survivability first after all. But her attention is probably focused over on them, their positions, their cover, and anything perhaps she might throw at them to slow their onslaught..

Perhaps even enough to not notice the second breaching charge that they'd put on the furthest back door.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peggy is careful. She's sharp and she's put together, even pregnant and tired as she is. She fires a few shots behind her, just trying to keep them off her back, but she skids to a halt as she hears the second breaching charge. A slew of curses escape her lips. Panic room it is, not totally finished or not. Maybe it'd be hidden enough, and at least she could get a call out from a wired line in there.

Peggy dashes down the stairs to their basement level. She whips down the short hall and pulls open the wall across from the laundry machines. It's built to look just like a wall and she tries to pull it fully shut behind her. Maybe she'll get lucky.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
They know the layout of the house, but not down to those small details. There's shots going over her shoulder as they're losing track of her over in the smoke. The occasional 'ping' of something going off the nearest wall. The invaders weren't shooting at one another in the confusion. The quick shots were suppression, designed to slow someone down and make them duck or risk getting hit. A wild bullet was still a bullet.

But Peggy does have those few moments if not spotted to try and go through the hidden escape door.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Through the door. Peggy, in the panic room, hits a button against the wall which immediately puts an emergency call into SHIELD. It's hardwired, so jammers shouldn't be able to get it. Hopefully it gets through, though she doesn't know if she's going to have enough time. Once the call is put out, she grabs the armored jacket off of the wall and pulls that on over her rounded frame. She switches out her little handgun into the pocket and grabs a SMG off of the wall before heading for the hidden tunnel which burrows out into those woods far beyond.

She can just hope the house keeps them busy.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
The door slams over in place as the sound of ricocheting bullets would go overhead. A SHIELD response team would be here within minutes - so all she had to do was hold out for long enough and escape and evade..

That's when there was a loud WHAM! against the reinforced metal door. It would pump inwards. WHAM! A second that would leave it shrieking. SMASH! A third would have the door holding only barely.. but the wall itself that the door was attached to that wasn't as reinforced starting to give way.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Guess it was finished enough." Peggy mutters about the panic room. Their poor house. They had only JUST put the finishing touches on things and moved the last of the boxes in. It hadn't even been a full week and here she was, using every last scrap of the security measures they put into this house and it still might not be enough.

She double times down that little tunnel, after tossing the wall up behind her. It's meant to blend into the wall of the panic room so they don't notice there is another way out. Hopefully it works. She then keeps double timing it down the tunnel, soon cutting through to the ravine out back, in that wooded area. She slows down as she reaches the edge, trying to control her breath and listen for near by enemies.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Peggy's racing out over into the darkness, the tunnel seeming ready to cave in behind her. So long as she was out that might not be the worst thing; it made them tracking her all the harder and hopeuflly might buy her those precious extra seconds that she needed to get away and for rescue to come.

The wooded area is quiet. In the distance, there's the muted sounds of gunfire, the scent of flames.. Peggy has reached the edge of the area and has the safety of the woods.

but there's a sense of forboding around even as she's ducking for cover.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Hearing nothing in the immediate area, Peggy forces herself to stop hiding in that tunnel and, instead, creep out into the darkness of the forest beyond her house. It's Westchester, there's never really any deep forest, but a good dose of trees and nature separating the houses from the highway and protecting the storm run off ravine that's vital to places not flooding. That's where she creeps into now, controlling every step that she takes, moving her body like a predator -- silent and calculated. She's trying to make certain she doesn't make a single sound, but it's hard to tell over the rush of her heart in her ears.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
She's alone over, moving quietly.. when her feet sink into the ground. THere's been some recent rain, but nowhere near enoudh to have her.. Sinking in to her ankles.. Even as the ground would shift, darkness solidifying about her lower body, chains made of shadow latching onto her, even as more tethers of darkness would snap out and over, moving to latch onto her hands, forming manacles to restrain them. A noose sliding up about her throat.
    "Don't you hate those girls that think they're so smart that they can get away with anything?"
    Coming from the shadows, a sneering figure. Wearing green embossed with black highlights, radiating Darkforce about her. Hydra's own dark queen, BLACK MAMBA.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg had prepared for every HYDRA eventually. Well, every normal HYDRA, mortal eventuality. She was accustomed to their soldiers, their training, their tech. She hadn't been thinking about the few super soldiers they still had in their numbers. Not on a boring Wednesday night where she was cooking dinner. Not in the middle of no where Westchester where nothing exciting happened!

Peggy mentally curses, first using some energy to try and fight her feet free of the clutches of whatever her slippers have sunk into. But it's no luck. This is more than mud or quick sand. Her dark eyes go wide as she snaps a gaze in the enemy soldier's direction. "This is going to prove to be an *incredibly* stupid move on your part." Peggy mutters flatly. If she can just keep the woman talking until back up gets here

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Peggy Carter is bound up over in shadow, and a voice warns as shadow manacles would hold her wrists with enough pressure to easily crush her bones to powder. A tight noose over around her throat. "They just want you alive. A little roughed up.. Well.. No one will really mind that. Just give me an excuse." BLACK MAMBA's voice sounding as sadistically carefree as ever.
    "Don't you hate those girls that are know it alls? And isn't it fun when they get one upped and see for themselves what an arrogant, deluded fool they've been?" A hood of darkness covering Peggy's face, blinding her. "Scream and we play a game of 'pop goes the weasel'."
    The fires burning brighter, visible even against the hood that had been magically apparated over her head.

Peggy Carter has posed:
If it wasn't for the baby, Peggy would be fighting tooth and nail. She could take broken bones, ribs, whatever the woman would do to her. She's had worse. But she knows that she's far more delicate than her normal self and, despite the smart remarks bubbling up in her throat, she forces herself to swallow back the words. She gingerly tries the tightness of her bonds, but they are almost bone crackingly tight. She wasn't going to slip out.

Therefore, she swallows a breath back and doesn't speak. She's got her SHIELD tracking chip. They'd be able to find her, if they got here in time. She couldn't give the woman a reason to hurt her worse. She just had to be patient...

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
She just had to be patient.. She just had to wait. Peggy is able to make out Black Mamba talking to someone. Female figure. Wearing black outfit. Some sort of red snake symbol on it. Dark hair. Glasses.. like a librarian's. Head too fuzzy to be familiar or not.
    "Worked just like you said."
    The figure in glasses would go idly, "Yes, yes. Now vee are even." An exaggerated Russian accent that sounded like something out of a fifties Commie pulp serial.
    "So what was it.. Duchess or whatever?" "... Close enuff. Now get away with her before she does sometheeng that you weel regret." A dark and brooding laughter filling the air as Black Mamba would mold reality, consuming the pair in Darkforce as they would vanish even as the Quinjet roaring overhead with reinforcements and an emergency response team.
    Three minutes, seventeen seconds. The turnaround. They were supposed to have arrived in three minutes and TEN seconds. Just that little bit closer..
    But close doesn't count for squat when it's not close ENOUGH.