View source for 11515/Jaketch's Gambit: Snakes in the Grass

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2022/06/08
|Location=Operations: Triskelion
|Synopsis=Lara decodes a transmission for Clint and digs up a clue that ties ancient Mesopotamian ruins to the recent Skrull/Chitauri attack
|Cast of Characters=25,696
|Tinyplot=Jaketch's Gambit
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:25|Clint Barton (25)}} has posed:'''<br>Clint is standing in SciIntOps on the Operations level of the Triskelion. The big room is windowless and lined with enormous screens showing data from and about different parts of the world.<br><br>Intel Scientists work away at computer stations in the room, some quietly, some talking into headsets.<br><br>Clint is dressed in his usual black, working but geared up to jump into action. he stands with his arms crossed near a middle aged scientist typing on a computer. Her nametag says "Abramovich", and she pushes an errant strand newly greying brown hair behind one ear. On her screen is a map of ancient Mesopotamia overlaying the modern countries in the region. The display suggests some kind of orbital scans are underway for a range of energy signatures.<br><br>Clint simply waits, catching every opening and closing of the door behind him across the room as a reflection in the bezel of Abramovich's screen.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:696|Lara Croft (696)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lara walks into the scene and raises an eyebrow at Clint, a cheeky smirk turning a corner of her mouth before she wipes it off her face. "Came as soon as I got your message," she says. "What's the situation?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:25|Clint Barton (25)}} has posed:'''<br>"He have terrible geography," Abramovich answers in a thick accent.<br><br>"I have no geography, I can't buy land on what they pay me," Clint retorts dryly. Abramovich just snorts.<br><br>"I need your help," the older agent says, turning to Lara with an 'I know, I know' smirk. He gestures to the screen. "Need to know if any... temples or artifacts or gods in that region might good cover for Skrull or Chitauri tech. A couple days ago a really angry looking Skrull opened a portal in Central Park and sent Chitauri soldiers through."<br><br>"We looked back later and we had picked up this transmission just before the portal opened in routine frequency scans," Clint says and reaches over to tap on Abramovich's monitor. A decoded text appears and seems to be in Sumerian... ish."<br><br>"It might be beacon. It might be spy. It might gods order Uber eats," Abramvoich chimes in with a shrug.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:696|Lara Croft (696)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lara moves closer to the screen on Abramovich's other side, getting a closer look at the text but also squeezing the A-agent away from her own screen. She squints at the text. "Lot of numbers," she realizes after a bit. She pulls a post-it from Abra-ka-movich's desk and snags one of her pens as well, scribbling down several two-digit numbers separated by colons.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She looks at it in her arabic numberals and furrows her brow. She opens up a website on her phone and enters them. It spits out long decimal numbers which she writes beneath the other base-60 numbers. Looking at the numbers then, she puts a couple decimal places in and puts a couple letters at the beginning of them. "Not sure what origin is for them," Lara says, "but if they're coordinating with any agents on Earth, they'd likely use our coordinate system. Still, why this language?"<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lara opens up a secure app in her phone that requires her face, thumbprint, and password to unlock it, after which it displays the SHIELD logo. She starts flipping through files, post-it note in hand. She's in her own little world as she does all of this, still not quite used to bringing others in on her thought process until she's got it figured out. However, after a bit, she holds up the phone with an image of an alien skull. "We've got this gentleman on ice," she says. "Found him at this latitude and longitude," she continues, holding up the post-it note. "Maybe some of the equipment he brought with him on his visit?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:25|Clint Barton (25)}} has posed:'''<br>Ambramovich frowns and looks at Clint. Clint just shrugs with an apologetic sigh. Ambravovich says something in Russian then mumbles something in English about terrible coffee and heads out of the room.<br><br>"We make friends everywhere we go," Clint says dryly after Abramovich leaves. Clint leans against the desk and watches Lara work. His brow creases a bit as tries to follow along or catch tidbits, but it is beyond him.<br><br>When Lara holds up her phone, Clint nods appreciatively. "Not bad, Croft. That's definitely not human... But could be. Looks about right. They teach ancient alien languages where you're from?"<br><br>Clint pushes off the desk and waits for Lara to grab any of her notes, or Abramovich's best pen, before turning to walk out of the room. "You're probably right. And if they're using it to make these portals, maybe we can find it and figure out who's behind this and why. Before they open more portals. Cause I don't want to fight aliens every time I go to the gym, I'm too old for that," Clint gripes.<br><br>"You look alright, no new holes, broken bones," Clint carries on. "What've you got going on these days?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:696|Lara Croft (696)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Miraculously," Lara says. It's clear Clint doesn't actually want to hear answers to some of what he's talking about since he's still asking questions. "Green Lantern Corps showed up to save me from a piece of ancient alien tech I found. It was in a solid gold Faraday cage," she explains. "Once I opened the box, it started shooting at me with masers and lasers and whatever else it could find." She stuffs her phone in her pocket, the screen locking anyway from time-out. "Still planning on dragging you and Romanoff to Siberia as soon as I'm confident I've got the right location." She smirks. "You should see my apartment. I look like a conspiracy theorist tracking that down."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:25|Clint Barton (25)}} has posed:'''<br>Clint shoots Lara an amused smirk, but there's a crease to his brow that suggests some concern. "It's not paranoia when there really are aliens and secret government organizations running the world," he says dryly. "Sign me up for Siberia though. Somebody has to make sure you don't tuck that elbow when you draw."<br><br>Clint goes a couple steps before speaking again. He looks uncharacteristically serious. "Hey, look. Alien boxes, green space cops... If it gets too weird and you just need to 'what the fuck', you can message or call me. Any time. I get it, I really do," Clint says. "It's weird, it makes no sense, and it's always trying to murder you or somebody you care about. It's a lot."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:696|Lara Croft (696)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lara's good at pushing her feelings down and away. She stops and meets Clint's gaze. She huffs out a breath and nods. "Yeah," she agrees. "We have to have each other's back in all circumstances." She offers a hand to shake on the 'deal' he's offering her.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:25|Clint Barton (25)}} has posed:'''<br>Clint nods, not much better at this. He shakes Lara's hand. "All circumstances," he agrees and shakes on it. Clint clears his throat and re-settles his shoulders, then carries on walking past the moment and the realness.<br><br>"So what's in Siberia? You know it's cold there, right? You sure whatever it is isn't in the Bahamas?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:696|Lara Croft (696)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lara mentally prepares herself to answer, but laughs as Clint suggests the Bahamas. "If only," she says. "Strangely, these things don't often go to nice vacation destinations, in my experience."<br> <br>
}}