13134/Tales from the Dockside: Watching the aft

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Tales from the Dockside: Watching the aft
Date of Scene: 21 October 2022
Location: Conference Room: Helicarrier
Synopsis: Director Fury taps Commander May to help with some potential unrest in the Middle East.
Cast of Characters: Nick Fury, Melinda May




Nick Fury has posed:
When one is in the air, things have a slightly different perspective. People are no longer seen, nor are cars really. All that can be discerned is land and water, light and the absence thereof. There are no demarcated borders, no signs of warning that one is about to cross into a new jurisdiction.

All of that is man made. Devised by governments, and in some cases, those self-same political units that will do just about anything to stay in power.

Desperation is a dangerous thing. It leads to things like,

"Destabilization in the area is unacceptable, Commander May." The Middle East, that is.

Nick Fury is in his glory in the Conference Room, pacing the floor with hands held behind his back, fingers loosely entwined. He wears his long black leather coat, over which is his black button down shirt and black cargo pants, ending in functional boots. He isn't so much talking //to// her as more //at// her at the moment, sending the information out into the aether. It's something he knows she is well aware of, and really only serves as a prelude. "As a result, there are things that really should be put into place. What I'd //like// to see," now, he's actually talking to her, "is someone who isn't an unstable bastard who is willing to kill his own in order to stay put. Problem is, all the dogs that are nipping at his heels are worse." It sounds as if it's a 'the devil you know' situation.

"He might be an unstable bastard, but he's ours." Fury comes to rest at the side of the conference table, leaning on his knuckles as he gives one of his most trusted Commanders his full attention. "Problem is, we also know what he's capable of doing."

Melinda May has posed:
May snirks softly, almost inaudibly. Her mind pulls up an image of an old woman in the Afghan hills who's managed to hold out longer against the Taliban than just about any other rebel force in the area. It's something of a shame orchestrating her into the role Fury's examining isn't possible. Not remotely.

If she were HYDRA, she'd suggest replacing the puppet governor with an actuall puppet -- an LMD with very specific programming. But she *isn't* HYDRA and that is completely unethical. May learned long ago... if she doesn't play by the rules and hold to ethics as much as she can, then she really is nothing more than a hired gun. And that's unacceptable.

"So we need to put some sort of invisible fence in place," she says. She looks up at Fury. "Dogs, right? Invisible fences work." Yes, she's speaking metaphorically. But that doesn't mean she's wrong. There are ways to put limits on his ability to follow through on the worst of his threats. They're not tidy. And maybe they don't entirely hold up the ethics she was just considering. But they might work. Depending on who is sent to implement them.

Nick Fury has posed:
"What I'd like to do isn't feasible." Fury is no doubt echoing the thoughts of May, and he levels that single good eye on her; they've been in the game long enough and/or deep enough to know what works short term and what works long term. Sadly, those LMDs aren't a longterm solution. In his line of thought, they're not even a good choice for short term, but there are times when they're the best answer, if not the only answer.

"A fence would be great," Fury begins again, and he straightens from his lean. "A rope dangling so he can see the noose up close and personal, even better."

The pacing begins again, and the hands move back to behind his back, the manner and mien appearing calm and collected, even if he's more likely to spring than settle in. "There's been chatter, or more like infighting. I swear, they're worse than a couple of teenaged girls in the lunchroom, fighting over this or that. Right now, it's pretty standard, but I have a feeling that escalation is in the works. Satellite photos have movement in the desert a couple of hundred klicks away. No one is going anywhere, not yet, but I'm not willing to let it get that far." Once more, Fury pauses, and arms rise to cross in front of his chest, "Let's get those fences up, and give them a hint that maybe it might be a good idea to quiet down."

He nods slowly and reaches out to tap on the table; no doubt that whatever system the table's internals are running, its AI is listening and complying, "You'll have your files on it when you leave this room."

Melinda May has posed:
May nods simply. She knows how the game is played. She purses her lips faintly. "What about sending in a noose?" Not her usual go-to.

Her hand flips errantly. "Or, more accurately, someone who can mitigate or adjust his mood. Send in two. One to him, one to his rival. Do we have time for an embed?" Yeah, she could do it, especially with her Inhuman empathic abilities. But so could someone like Romanova. Or they could just put Belova or Barton on sniper perches somewhere.

She doubts that's a viable solution, mind. But she's tossing out other ideas before calling in a STRIKE becomes necessary. In the back of her mind, however, she's already outfitting the quins and thinking about duty rosters.

Nick Fury has posed:
"That's exactly what I'm considering, Commander May." Exactly //which// of her ideas, Fury isn't telling. He'll give her this much, though. "No time for an embed. We've got boots on the ground, but they're surveillance." He can't trust they won't create an international incident, which, for that region, would have far reaching consequences.

"Though, wouldn't mind a forward command, if that's what you're asking." After a moment's pause, he turns to look at her fully, his expression neutral. He's used to this, ordering people into the field, and knowing full well the work will get done, come hell or high water. "Get your people together," Fury starts again. "I'll talk to Agent Romanoff, and have her make contact with you when you're in place."

Melinda May has posed:
Again, May nods. She really doesn't need to say anything more -- and he likely doesn't expect her to. She doesn't generally make smalltalk, and once a decision's made, she prefers to act. So, she offers a simple salute and takes her leave. There's work to be done.