12186/1953: The Russians Are Here

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1953: The Russians Are Here
Date of Scene: 30 September 2022
Location: Location
Synopsis: No description
Cast of Characters: Melinda May, Dottie Underwood




Melinda May has posed:
November 1953. It's a blustery day in late Fall. Snow hasn't yet fallen across New York, but there's that frigid snap to the air that promises it could come any day now. The streets are busy, full of mid-day traffic. Lily Chen has spent nearly an hour sat in a fairly upscale cafe, drinking a horrible excuse for tea. It's gone cold. She doesn't bother to warm it. It wouldn't help.

The man she's been watching obliquely is laughing, flirting with the redhead across from him.She's not convinced the girl is as vapid as he seems to think. But she's also very certain there's a game being played here. And she'd like to know what it is *before* she casually steers him into the waiting arms of the SHIELD unit waiting in the back.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Dorothy Underwood brushes her hair off of her shoulder with a light laugh. The red strands tangle against her nail varnish, the two colors complimentary without matching. --


The man, blessed with distinguished features and a debonair attitude, runs a hand down his well tailored suit, smoothing the line. While the slight leer on his lips suggests that he's enjoying the figure on display before him, his eyes barely flick to follow her movement. His appreciation for aesthetics doesn't extend much further than his own vanity. --

She lets her hand settle against her throat, encouraging his gaze to drift over her body. One red nail plays over her pretty pale skin. "Oh, Mr. Richards! I shouldn't. No, I really shouldn't."

Despite her protestations, Dottie's body language promises that she would -- whatever it is he's offering.

Melinda May has posed:
There's something about the way the red head moves that is vaguely familiar to Lily. The flip of her fingers through her hair. But the angle she's at makes it impossible for Lily to see her clearly. And the fact she came in with a wide-brimmed hat that obscured her face earlier didn't help, either.

Richards is rich, vain, and inclined to see himself as the smartest person in the room -- especially when there are women present. His head isn't turned as quickly by a pretty face, but it snaps around to anyone who flatters the right way. The redhead seems to have kept his attention.

As he makes motion for the cheque, however, Lily realizes her time is quickly ticking away.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"Douglas!" Dottie squeals, and she bats at his shoulder in mock protestation. But she's obviously willing to leave with him. Whatever she's after, he must not have it on his person.

Melinda May has posed:
It's only as the couple stand to leave, and Richards moves to help the lady rise, that Lily catches a profile of the woman's face. She bites back the urge to swear, fixing a smile on her face instead and laying some cash on the table to cover her bill.

Rising, she turns away enough to conceal her own actions, but she has a small radio in a broach on her lapel and she speaks softly. "<<I think the Russians are here,>>" she reports. "<<Cover the exits.>>"

If it's who she thinks it is, it's hard to say who the more important target may be.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
The two disappear briefly into the dark of the coat check closet. A few moments later, two people emerge: the man in his dark grey well tailored suit, briefcase in hand, hat rakishly cutting across his profile; the woman's red hair glimpses from under her wide brimmed hat. The couple exits the cafe, arms linked cozily as they stroll at an easy pace down the street.

Melinda May has posed:
Lily slides her own coat over her shoulders and adjusts her scarf as she steps out to see just where the pair are headed. "<<Targets headed east toward 5th,>>" she quietly calls to her team. "<<Probably to the Park. Some one get ahead of them, but don't forget to cover the other side.>>"

Her steps slow, however, as she watches a strange stiffness manifest in the woman's spine. There's something off about her step and... maybe her height? Eyes narrowed, she stops and glances back over her shoulder at the hotel. "<<Keep on them,>>" she instructs her team. "<<We want Richards, either way.>>"

For her part, however, she turns on her heel and heads back into the building she just left, heading for the coat check on a hunch.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
The couple wanders leisurely along the main thoroughfare before ducking into a pharmacy  - at the lady's insistence. It seems she wants a drink from the soda fountain. If Lily had joined the unit as they surrounded the pharmacy, if she'd been one of the agents to slip into the store to browse comic books and chewing gum, she'd've known immediately that two people cozying up to the counter are not her quarry. As it is, the coat check she returns to is empty - abandoned by the woman staffing it.

And the door leading to the back alley swings shut with a quiet echoing slam.

Melinda May has posed:
"<<Agent Chen? I think we've lost them.>>"

"<<I know.>>" Lily's tone is dry, even. She doesn't betray much in the way of irritation -- though she *is* irritated. She is also unsurprised. "<<Leviathan's on site. Call it in, Burkoski. Let Sousa know.>>" Because Burkoski is likely to get through to Sousa. He won't get through to Carter. "<<Tell him I'm in pursuit.>>"

She eases her way out of the door, eyes sweeping the back alley, prepared for either an ambush or a chase. Because, if this is who she thinks it is, Richards has either already been tipped off or is currently being led down the proverbial garden path. Or some combination thereof, more likely.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Giggling, Dottie Underwood tugs Richards by the hand and leads him around the corner. "Oh, Dougie," she coos, "Will you really show me? Really? Promise? Cross your heart and hope to die?" She trails the tip of her forefinger down his chest.

The man smirks derisively, but grasping her hand he draws a cross over his heart with her finger. And then he's kissing her knuckles like a gallant. "This way, m'dear," he whispers in her ear. With his hand on the small of her back he guides her through the city streets.

Melinda May has posed:
Lily steps out just in time to watch the pair disappear around the corner. She's sure the man is her mark. She's also becoming increasingly certain about just who his vapid admirer is. And, if Lily's right, that woman is *far* from vapid. Tailing Richards is one thing. Tailing Dottie Underwood? That will require *finesse*. And timing.

Fortunately, Lily knows a thing or two about both.

She takes a step back to the mouth of the alley. She can still see them, but is far less visible, herself. The timequakes she's experienced over the last three or four years have taught her some things she's not yet tried to explore deeply -- but she's experimented enough to have learned to exploit just enough. Squaring her shoulders and stepping out of the alley she simply *shifts*. Same time, different place. This time, across the street, still a little behind the pair, in the shadow of a newspaper hut, where she pauses to pay for a glamour magazine before moving on to get a better view.

All she needs is a glimpse of the woman's profile -- her jaw and chin and nose -- to confirm what she thought she saw earlier. And when she gets it, partly due to the reflections of a window in the shade, she's certain. "Damn."

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Dottie's gaze is sharp in the reflection, scanning for a tail. But that nifty little trick that lets Lily Chen be there and then not there in the blink of an eye is a bit beyond the current scope of her training. Maybe she glimpses the occasional flicker, but when she looks again the street is empty. It's enough to make her jumpy, paranoid.

The adrenaline makes her giddy. The smile on her lips is suddenly genuine.  A tell-tale indicator of danger for anyone who knows the signs. Richards, perhaps luckily, does not. Of course she's smiling like that for him. The hand on her back guides her a little more firmly. The other, she notices, strays to briefly caress his belt buckle before he reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a ring of keys and jingles them in front of her face. They pause in front of an unmarked door and he fumbles with the lock.

Melinda May has posed:
Richards fumbles with the lock and Lily uses the camouflage of the passing crowds to allow her to drift closer. She can see a hint of Dottie's smile, as much in her body language as anything else. No, Lily's not intimately familiar with Dottie's mannerisms, and she's sharply aware that the Russian woman is a true chameleon. But she has memories of other women with similar backgrounds -- women she's never met, women who won't become assets to SHIELD for another 50 years or more. It's enough to allow her to sense that frisson of adrenaline and the hunter's pleasure it brings her opponent.

And, make no mistake, Lily entirely understands that Dottie is now her opponent, not Richards. He is now secondary. An achievement to be won. She flickers a little closer, this time to the opposite side -- a better vantage point, but possibly more vulnerable.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
As the lock gives way under Richards's stubby fingers, Dottie's grin becomes toothier, more feral. Until the moment he looks back to her and her expression is schooled into an acceptable eager wickedness. He escorts her into the loading dock of the New York Public Library, then up a few steps into a side passage where they are met with another door. In the seclusion of these back passages, Richards presses his suit and her against it.

The woman permits his rough clumsy handling, pulling him close and murmuring in his ear. Lily can't make out the words, but she can see his adam's apple bob as his cheeks flush. Groping behind Dottie's back he wrenches the knob open, his hand reaching lower as he pushes her through.

Melinda May has posed:
Lily watches where they go. Her eyes narrow slightly as she starts to guess their destination. There are a tangle of offices and research spaces beneath the library -- some of them leftover from the War. SHIELD is aware of them, though they were more the purview of the OSS than the SSR. If they hadn't already suspected Richards of using something down there, Lily wouldn't likely be as familiar with the layout as she is, though her familiarity is largely on paper.

Still, it's enough to allow her to begin a dangerous game of hopscotch, tracking the pair's progress from side corridors and shaded offices as she flickers through time and space. At least once, she interrupts a quiet researcher who isn't quite sure how she got through his door, but who loses her when she passes behind a stack of shelves.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
The gasp from the startled researcher isn't loud enough to alert the pair as they stumble through the halls giggling and hissing at each other to be quiet - acting like naughty children. Richards, at least, plans to be very naughty indeed once he gets "Miss Emke" to his laboratory. While Dottie intends to commit some misbehavior all her own, albeit of a much more final nature. Once she has his research, Richards will be obsolete. He's not a terribly inventive man.

They go deeper underground, through a twisted rabbit's warren of offices, store rooms, private collections and research catalogs. When Richards pulls her into a janitorial closet, Dottie almost protests, thinking the man has run out of patience. But he doesn't slow or stop. Instead, he ducks behind a row of shelves, and, pulling Dottie by the wrist, reveals to her a gap in the cinderblock wall - tucked inside, invisible, a final door.

He boldly leads Dottie to their destination.

Melinda May has posed:
It's the fact they enter a storage closet that tells Lily it's time to forget about stealth and take a more direct approach. She flickers forward, catching the first door before it closes and then the second by hand as Richards swings Dottie around to press his suit even further. Thus, Lily meets the Russian woman's eyes over his shoulder as the lab door closes behind her.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Richards has already got Dottie propped against a desk as Lily makes her entrance. But she's only paying him the barest attention - one hand on his tie, the other rummaging through the drawers. When she sees the other woman, her eyes go wide. Only a little, but enough for Lily to register her surprise.

Still, even caught unawares, the Red Room agent is quick to act. She pulls the knot of the tie tight against Richards's throat, winds the tie around her fist. Keeping his body between them - a momentary human shield as the man sputters and struggles - Dottie regains her footing. She pushes him, the noose of neckwear chokingly taut. And with a sharp jerk of the silk fabric, Richards goes limp. She releases the tie and the man falls to the floor.

Smoothing down her dress, she finally meets her tracker's eye. And grins.