1505/Hunting the Faux Part 2

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Hunting the Faux Part 2
Date of Scene: 04 May 2020
Location: Triskelion Interrogation Room 5
Synopsis: What about my deal?
Cast of Characters: Bobbi Morse, Daisy Johnson, Achilles, Jane Foster




Bobbi Morse has posed:
Santiago's first operation went wrong. SHIELD gear was being sold on the black market and after careful research a seller was identified, Pierre. Santiago with a team posed as a buyer to confirm if the equipment was genuine or fake. It was genuine. Before they could make an arrest, Pierre fled the scene with an ICER. One was recovered.

Pierre was taken to a secure location by his hired security Myrmidon. Realising his boss wasn't picking up the phone he shot one of the guards protecting him and was in turn shot back, in the leg. He was treated at the hospital and has now been moved to Interrogation Room #5.

Quake, helping out Santiago's first operation with help from other agents managed to identify the security group protecting Pierre, Myrmidon and with Agent Drew sat down to have a conversation with the owner. Trust was earned during an interview with Achilles and he has been brought in to aid with this investigation.

Achilles handed over the details of the client and Quake followed the money as instructed and found the source is owned by a Harriet Faux. Money has been spent on private security in Metropolis, New York and Gotham so far.

In the observation room Bobbi watches with interest, Achilles with her, Quake, and Jane. "I'd like to let you do this interrogation, but feel free to tap out and replace each other as you go. This isn't our only lead but he might be our fastest lead if we can break him." In the interrogation room, leg bandaged, hands cuffed to the table - Pierre Smith. Originally posing as a Frenchman, but once finding himself in trouble reverted to his Brooklyn accent.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
At least the weapon Pierre had used had been an ICER, so eventually all the people he had shot would be fine. Which did considerably help in having Quake here with a faint smile to her lips, her arms crossed, watching through the window that gives view into the interrogation room. "We also have to consider the faster we get to the info the less chance there will be this ..., Harriet Faux disappears for good. And whoever their partner is." a glance at Bobbi.

"Did we get his phone? I can try hack into it while someone goes in and talks with our 'friend'.." a glance towards Achilles and Jane.

Achilles has posed:
    "If you like, I could go and... talk with the guy. He doesn't even need to know it is me if you prefer it that way. But.. I am not exactly in a position to suggest such things to you all. It was your tech stolen." Achilles inclines his head, "I -must- give Bridget a raise. Not only did she stop him from escaping, but she had the presence of mind to shoot him in the leg, not the chest."
    Okay, so his thought processes are rambling a bit.
    He eyes Bobbi and Daisy and shrugs his shoulders, "You guys are the spies. I've just spent a long time hiding in plain sight, not interrogating prisoners."

Jane Foster has posed:
Truly, no one has to worry about Jane being the violent one here. She most certainly has no such tendencies observed in her psychological profile, and building up a sympathetic rapport might just be the sort of thing she can muster. Hopefully Pierre won't be dazzled by her presence and start asking questions about stars or Thor or New Mexican research stolen by a slap happy American black ops agency. Hopefully. For the moment, she presents herself as a more professional version of her usual persona on TV or social media, hair pulled back into a chignon. Maybe to lend an air of untouchability, but of all of them here, she has the softest profile too. Time to go see Daisy in action, her arms folded over her chest like all good police procedurals.

Odin is probably laughing about this. To Achilles, she asks, "Did you want to go first and build rapport? Establish empathy with him, since he's the one who was shot and you can establish it clearly must be some kind of mix-up or mistake. Give him a chance to be outed. If that is an approach you want to take. It seems a solid approach, man-to-man, then we soften him for the final blow after Agent Johnson extracts whatever information she can from his phone." Her wry smile shows. "I mean, he can think he can grab mine if we need to bait him to making a call."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi nods her head to Daisy, "Yes." She opens up the evidence draw and in it there's the ICER they recovered, the ICER he used, his smashed phone, the bullet that was removed from his leg in a small container. "Go nuts Daisy." She looks to Jane and Achilles, "Okay well, one of you might want to consider being bad cop. But good luck in there."

Pierre is fidgeting in his seat and testing how far he can move. He is loudly saying "Ow" every time he moves his leg in the slightest, probably looking for sympathy votes. His eyes are looking at one of the walls. They are all covered in dark glass that cannot be seen through from that side, also to hide which side the surveillance is really on. He's looking at the wrong wall. "Hey," he shouts, "I've been here for hours, I'm in pain, I have rights you know." He has been in this room for exactly 47 minutes now.

Bobbi offers a small ear piece to Achilles, "So you can stay in the loop with us while you're in there."

Achilles has posed:
    Nodding his head, Achilles glances to Jane and then to Bobbi. "I -could- suggest that I am -not- one of the people holding him, so that anything I might do... you guys couldn't stop me from doing. Not that it's true but he doesn't know that. So, do I do good cop, bad cop, or as one movie called it... Worse cop?" he asks the gathered agents.
    "I could armor up and put the fear of Zeus into him too ... that's part of what I call worse cop." he adds as he pulls a sleeve back to reveal the celestial bronze bracer he wears.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
A grimace surges up to Daisy's expression when she notices the smashed phone. A difficulty! But for an hacker nothing is impossible! Maybe she can still hook up some of it's memory to her computer through the use of a few backdoor procedures she knows for these models and --- She blinks, snapping out of whatever nefarious thoughts she was having towards that phone and instead she walks towards a table.

She sits down and turns on her laptop, running her hands through her hair and glancing over. "This might take me a little bit to retrieve." she taps on the commlink on her ear. "I can feed you guys info on what I find out here which you may be able to use." a doubtful glance at the phone. "Maybe.."

"Also, that guy is a whiner, geeez." A roll of her eyes but then she is focusing on her work, just tossing out an aside. "Jane looks like the good cop to me. But we never know, due to that vicious personality and all that." a grin sent Jane's way.

Jane Foster has posed:
The appearance of evidence in proper tagged areas brings a look of interest from Jane, her gaze moving from the phone to the ICER. "We might want to put down a dummy phone, give him the idea he can call a lawyer. Not sure he's willing to fall for that." She nonetheless watches their victim--er, suspect--squirming and complaining. "Might go ahead and give him a Tylenol or Advil for the pain, too. Makes us look like good people." She gives Achilles a secondary look to the bracer in place, eyebrows raised slightly as he's dealing with it. "OK, then, I'm going with the good cop side if you have the scary effect. I, on the other hand, am about as terrifying as a golden retriever puppy encountering a sock. Let's roll. Agent Morse, can I acquire that painkiller with a bottle of water about ten minutes in? I'll use a reference of a shipment to Marseille if I need to tag out. That sound good, or do you want to go first?"

This option to Achilles now she's laid out her plan.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi nods her head, "10 minutes sure thing." She looks pleased by the formulation of plans. "You can go for scary if you want Achilles, but keep in mind once you've played that card, you won't have anywhere else to go. You could start out by being the wronged party, he did fraud your company after all."

Pierre complains more loudly, "Hey, is anyone listening. I need help in here. This is torture and you have no right to hold me in here I have done nothing wrong." Well, that's quite the stretch isn't it.

Bobbi motions to the door, "Go go, see what you can get from this guy. Daisy will do what Daisy does best, magic computer things." She lifts up a finger, "Oh and Jane, you're a wonderful golden retriever puppy who knows how to bite and where best to bite."

Achilles has posed:
    "Worse cop it is." remarks Achilles as he rolls his neck. By the time he finishes that, his high class suit has been replaced by bronze armor circa 1200 BC or so. Boots more like sandals, greaves, a skirted breastplate, bracers and a shield. Not to mention a scabbarded sword. "Perhaps I should leave my weapon here." he says, his voice having lost all trace of that English accent that has faintly tinged his voice.
    The helmet however, conceals the face for the most part. The flanges covering the cheeks, and a horsehair crest making him appear almost seven feet tall. "Think this will work for worse cop?" he asks with his green eyes narrowed beyond the slits. The only -real- nod to anything more modern than Bronze age gear is the lenses in the helmet. What? Hephaestus was way ahead of his time. And he knew that sunlight glaring off of water, metal, or anything else could blind a warrior. Not to mention blood in the eyes.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
At Jane's request for a phone she raises one hand, to call her attention, reaching to take out a phone of her own and taptapping on it a few times, setting it to incognito, then a lil more hacker magic and she slides it across the table. "Use this one if you want to go that route. Proxied up and we will be able to trace the location. Even if he won't be able to actually call and warn someone where he is." she informs. A glance is then given to Achilles and his bracer, brows furrowed. "And I agree, you can use uh .., whatever that armor thing is you mention as a backup instead of going all out and --" then the armor appears up. And she blinks. A look to Bobbi. "Well, I certainly don't do that kind of magic." a grin.

Then it's time to work on her hacking! Or is it magic!? "Yep, you are a worse cop.."

And then it's time to do what she does best, humming while she works. "Seems like the IMIE is still up..., good. Mmm, finding some calls made to upstate New York. Many actually.." she says with a frown.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane pulls a pair of glasses from their leather-bound case, one of those things she keeps on hand though she absolutely doesn't need them. Like Clark Kent, they offer a degree of being incognito. Now if she had a hoodie, likely that Pierre wouldn't even recognize someone slouched into the room. "Stargazer tapping in, then. Thank you." She beams in delight at Daisy's offer, apparently familiar enough with that computer talent not to be stunned. Just impressed. Professionally impressed at that. "Got it." She slips the phone into her blazer pocket where it gives a comfortable weight to rest against her hip, and then she heads through. Being the person who is all wrapped up in armour, Achilles might want to lurk in a corner as she leaves the room and circles around to collect a notepad of paper and pen, both regulation standard, and heads into the interrogation room. Hopefully one she will never be in, chained to a table, but she mostly scowled at Agent Coulson the first time he stole her work. Being a polite citizen has its benefits.

Plus, you know, anger of the guy with the hammer might still radiate in a few older agents' minds. Maybe! Either way, the absolutely not-dead-on-Genosha Jane Foster is now Doctor Foster, SHIELD agent, and she steps inside after the door unlocks. Pierre's first test: does he try to rush her, play for time, even recognize her? Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. She gracefully approaches, heels clicking like gunshots, a small but determined effort on her part to announce herself. Maybe it's a psychological ploy, in which case revise that profile upward. The paper goes down on the table, pen withheld. "Hello," she replies. "Mister Pierre....?" Hello, a last name!

Achilles has posed:
    Before going inside, Achilles leans in to Bobbi and Daisy, "You have of course, considered that this Ms. Faux... is a false name on its own, the idea of using Faux as a pseudonym just as a thumb in the eye, yes?" he asks showing that despite being a 3200 year old thug, he actually has a brain in his head, to a degree.
    But that said, he moves to follow Jane, accepting her lead.
    He stays back behind Pierre, out of sight while the focus appears to be upon Doctor Foster. For now remaining a silent presence that the guy can likely feel, somewhat hear, and only imagine the appearance of for now.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi's eyes widen at the sudden clothing transformation from modern to Greek Achilles. She has had her fair share of being up close and personal with famous and powerful people but it gets her _every dang time_ it happens. She knew he was Achilles, she did the background checks to confirm it.. but seeing that change of clothing brought it home. "Right, we did do a name search as our first port of call, but thanks for bringing that up. For all we know, Pierre in there could be the Faux but I doubt it."

Pierre Jones watches Jane as she enters the room, not saying anything at the moment. His eyes widen as a man wearing bronze armor enters though, glancing over his shoulder as he moves behind.

He clears his throat, "Right, come to let me go. I'm thirsty and I need pain killers and who do you think you are locking me up like this," he says gesturing down at his handcuffs. His eyes go back to Jane for a moment and he says, "Don't I know you from somewhere?," in his Brooklyn accent. The man has seen better days, unshaven and scruffy hair. He still has patches on his arm from the IV when they took him in for surgery to remove the bullet. He's wearing hospital shorts and a hospital t-shirt, both with the logo and name Mercy Hospital NYC.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
When Achilles and Jane leave the room Daisy leans over to Bobbi and whispers quietly. "Best power ever. Imagine not having to spend an _hour_ getting dressed every morning, mmm?" is she implying Bobbi is vain?! Well, seems like a light-hearted jab at the senior officer. Not that seniority ever stopped her from poking at people. Coulson is a prime example too. No wonder he is getting bald, noone has the patience for Daisy.
    hough being the multitasker that she is she continues to retrieve info out of the phone, then onwards to the financial records and to the guns. "These weapons were supposedly claimed to be part of a batch with defect found on SHIELD..." she says of the serial numbers after running them through her computer. "They were to be disposed of weeks ago. Clearly this didn't happen. And they are working just fine. So whoever is behind this they have contacts within SHIELD, or some other weak link along the way."

Achilles has posed:
    Lifting a brow behind his helmet's faceplate, Achilles remains silent. He merely clasps his hands behind his back and observes quietly. Somehow, he is hoping that his looming presence alone will serve as an intimating effect to... begin matters of the whole interrogation angle.
    But in his mind's eye, he flashes back to many other such conversations over the years. His helmet tilts just a bit to the left as he eyes seek out Jane and wait for her to indicate a suggestion of something he should do.

Jane Foster has posed:
Her voice is the one thing that is inestimably familiar, since she's on television programs with a Mr. Colbert or another of the late night talk show circuits enough. Jane doesn't wear a nametag. Her badge clipped low to her waist doesn't afford a good look with her blazer buttoned, and that's the point. Instead, she pulls the chair back and settles in front of Pierre. "Mr. Jones, I can see the last few hours have been difficult for you. I'm going to do my best to assist you," she says, settling into the chair opposite him. The paper rests in front of her, hand poised with the pen. "However, you realize what the situation looks like. You were caught in a private business, shooting at one of the guards employed by that company. That alone can bring police charges, and based on any security recordings at the time, a self-defense claim may not hold water in court. Now I can't speak for the company or the guard, but they're in a plum position to aggressively pursue a legal case. The DA certainly will consider their opinions before pressing charges. If you want a counterweight to that, I need a good idea of what happened and why you felt it necessary to shoot someone."

The astrophysicist in her is detailed oriented, but this Jane, she's another thing entirely, working on building that rapport. "Help me understand, please. What went on to make you feel shooting someone was necessary? I'll see what I can do about the water and the rest. Though releasing you isn't at my paygrade; however, I can make recommendations taken seriously by my superior." She smiles again, briefly. "Why were you there in the first place?"

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi glances over to Daisy and gives her a look, though she doesn't rise to the bait. "Do you think his clothes were destroyed when he did that and when it turns it off he's nude, or do his real clothes get sucked in to the gauntlet some how," her eyes swivel back to the interrogation room. "I'm not surprised you decided to dig in to the tech, but you should get better at interrogations some time."

Upon hearing about the origin of the guns she narrows her eyes, "Interesting. Find out who the quality assurance officer who marked them as defective was."

Pierre points a finger at Jane when she sits down, "I swear I've seen you somewhere before." He peers at her and then frowns, "Fuck off I shot them with one of those stun guns. That's not serious at all. Hey some creeps tried to rip me off, my boss didn't answer her.. the phone and. Hey screw this. I want a lawyer, I know my rights!" He glances nervously over his shoulders at Achilles again and then pokes his finger in to the table firmly, "Shit I knew it you were on the late show weren't you. You were in some.. scifi movie. Were you in Contact? you were in Contact weren't you. This is all some elaborate joke, actors pretending to be cops."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"I am sure we will discover that when this is done." And Daisy suppresses a chuckle at Bobbi at where her thoughts went. Typical Bobbi! She nods about the interrogation part though. "Might as well see about Jane's own capabilities during it, and we have a new recruit prospect to study too."

And then she continues on with her investigation. As to the question about about the assurance officer she replies. "Franks. Pretty normal agent, just a notch away from the mean. One standard deviation off.."

Then she taps onto the comms again. "Whoever this boss of his is, they were going off on a rampage with the good life. Food, hotels, all Upstate New York and all the best. Lots of money running around." she continues on. "And all contact was made off of working hours too. Suggesting whoever it is may have a cover job somewhere."

Achilles has posed:
    "Don't worry about who she is or is not." remarks Achilles from his looming post behind Pierre. He steps forward one pace and a strong hand grips the back of Pierre's neck. Sure, he's not superhuman, but he keeps strong on a merely human scale.
    "You are in a lot of trouble. Stolen tech that you -knew- you were stealing. Shooting operatives either way, with tech that you -did- steal. From what I understand, you're going down one way or the other. The fall will be less painful if you help these people find whomever it was you were working -for-." he states. "And -I- am not some officer of the law. I am just a costumed freak bound by no real rules. The only reason I am here is because some of the people -you- hurt, were near and dear to me. Do you -really- want to push this? To push me?"
    Sure, he's acting and full of shit himself but he's hoping Pierre doesn't realize this.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Duly noted. You have a name and phone number for me, or will you like me to arrange your legal counsel?" Jane pauses to jot down any information Pierre might provide to that front, though the bugged room absolutely must funnel that information. Until Achilles shows up, and makes it hardly relevant at all who she is, only what she represents, the icon of law where he is the rogue; lawful neutral to his neutral awesome.

"Mr. Jones, you shot someone with an illicit weapon on private property. Trespassing and assault with a deadly weapon mix well with federal felonies. If they have reason to assume this was premeditated, that charge can escalate to attempted murder. You may not be an expert on the fundamentals of the weapon you used, but the medical and engineering witnesses called by the prosecutor absolutely will be. And they can build a very convincing case that you were prepared to kill to get what you want."

With the Greek warrior's hand scuffing Pierre, it's her turn to look worried, leaning forward slightly and lending that faint frown. "This truly isn't a joke. If our friend here wants to deal with you his way, I can't stop him. Recordings and medical reports show otherwise to your claims you did not harm. You hold power here, and you can choose to cooperate with me or not. I'm trying to help you." She pushes the chair back slightly, looking over to the door in case that pain medicine is on its way. "Argue, if you like. Of course, that will brand you someone obstructing an interview instead of cooperating. How does it help you, especially if there was just cause for shooting after your boss didn't pick up? Is she going to be particularly happy about being questioned and her business embarrassingly interrupted because you failed to be of assistance? I suppose we'll find out." She rises.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi says, "I think he has a lot of potential.. heck how many wars did he win? If you've got timestamps for any of those purchases, see if you can find any CCTV footage that might ID our mystery faux." She looks back to the ongoing interview as the door opens and a junior agent enters with painkillers and water. He places it on the desk on Jane's side and departs, not even batting an eyelash at the man in bronze armor with his hand on the suspects neck.

Pierre seems quite rattled by the hand on his neck by the big costumed warrior. The sweat beading on his forehead suggests he's completely sold on the ruse. He looks around feverishly and lets out a groan of genuine discomfort. His eyes land on the painkillers and the water and he says, "Look.. shit.. what about a deal? I'm a businessman I make deals all the time. I'll.. I'll tell you who my boss is if you give me a deal. I don't want to go to jail, please you've got to help me.."

Achilles has posed:
    "Jail?!" asks Achilles as he squeezes the back of the man's neck. He turns his helmet, and then his gloved hand reaches for the painkillers, "Oh yes, I do love the idea of you feeling less pain. That way the beating can go longer. Please let me do that." he says to the man.
    But then his helmet comes up and he says to Jane, "Doctor. I think you might want to grab a cup of coffee. What.. seven, eight minutes worth?" he asks before turning his attention back to Pierre, "Unless... you can figure out that this isn't you getting what you want and only THEN helping her. No, you give her what you have, and -she- decides if it's worth anything. If she doesn't.. that is when I get to play. So what'll it be, painkillers and coffee? Or... a few well placed words to earn some possibility at a reprieve?"

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"I love Agent James. Look at that, not even a sidelong glance at our new friend..." This Daisy says of the junior Agent that went in. A small grin to her expression. She is already looking for CCTV images, her fingers furious upon her computer keyboard while she attempts to triangulate one of those high-end restaurants along with a timestamp for then to look for cameras that may give a look to it. "On it." she tells Bobbi. "This may take a small while though.." she also warns her. Because sometimes Agents can get too impatient and not understand the art behind hacking! And the time spent on it.

"Though yea, I agree. Someone with that kind of knowledge would be invaluable at SHIELD." this about Achilles.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane is already standing, taut and tall, her shoulders back and feet slightly apart. Authoritative and purposeful, that position conveys some degree of weight. "Cooperation will get you further. Again, Mr. Jones, I want to help. My superiors will want to know you aren't spitting out phony information to save your own neck from justice." Or Achilles, whom she nods to subtly, suggesting Pierre take the hint. It's his vertebrae, after all. "You want a deal? Give me something I can take to them that is workable, showing you want to be a partner in this. Right now, they have a man accused of several crimes, an injured associate, and proof of your lack of cooperation. Let me /help/ you." Stress there. "I need something, Mr. Jones, to show you are sincere, you understand you're in trouble, and you are willing to work with me. Please."

It's a soft sound, that last one, a quiet acknowledgment of the situation and how far in they are. It could be a false front, but it sure as hell sounds sincere. "I'll get that coffee," she tells Achilles, giving him a soft nod. Bobbi and Daisy are back there, just in case, everything is perfectly safe in case the guy goes Gonzo. Of course they're also critiquing everything but that's nothing new. "I'll see about that Tylenol." Exeunt, stage left. Or through the only door there is to sit outside past the one-way glass and have her own cuppa opinion au Morse. Totally fair. She shimmies that way. A lackey can go bring the pain medicine, and with any luck, it's Victorian-Era Nurse Ratchet.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi says, "I think it's those improv classes he goes to. He never misses a beat." She leans forward at the way this interview is heating up. It's better than television when you can sense an agent about to break a suspect. They always have a breaking point, something they're willing to flip for. Sometimes it's money, sometimes it's freedoms, sometimes it's just respect. "I feel bad for the police, they actually have to stop when someone asks for a lawyer."

The whites of Pierre's eyes are wide and he begins to cry, "Okay okay. His name is Rena Klein. He's.. I don't know, he's the one who supplies the stuff, the sensors and the guns and the armor and stuff like that. He pays for the hotel rooms and our food and travel expenses. I meet with him every fourth Saturday and he has more stuff for me to sell. I swear that's.. that's all I know about him."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Rena Klein ... We need info on that guy, including a description if possible." Daisy says through the comm-link, then continuing on working on her search for a CCTV image of who Pierre's accomplice is. Her eyes narrow just so and then ...

".... Eureka, got it. Agent Franks is Klein." she informs the group. A slide of her computer to show the image to Bobbi. Franks all dressed up in a tuxedo, a nice blond girl on his arm that seems to be screaming escort out of every pore of her body. "Seems our friend has been living the good life outside of SHIELD."

She then turns the computer back to herself. A look up to Jane when she comes back in. "Good job and ..." attention back on her screen at a 'ping' from it. ".... seems like Franks left the Trisk a couple of hours ago. Bought a flight to the Maldives. No lift off yet from what I can tell."

Achilles has posed:
    "Of course it's not all that you know. You left out two very important... critical details. One... we need to know what this man looks like. Two, you need to tell us when your -next- meeting is scheduled. Well, all about that next meeting. Where, when.. any protocols for it. You know that you're holding out hoping that we'll give you even more if you give us the rest. But... this situation is -not- in your control." Achilles's voice is a veritable growl. But then he pauses and says -very- politely, "Cream, no sugar please Doctor." to Jane. Implying that he's still looking forward to... alone time.
    "Would -you- like a cup?" he asks Pierre. "He'll take a cup. Black. Two sugars." he adds, "Caffeine makes this even more fun. The beating I mean." he adds as he lets go of the man's neck and steps fully around in front of him, the lights of the room gleaming off of his pauldrons and breastplate. His shield literally... vanishes. Sucked back into the bracer. Thank you Hephaestus! That's a thought he has of course. But he clenches his hands into fists, knuckles popping audibly as he does so. Hey, it was intimidating when Bruce Lee did that stuff. Why not?

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi takes out her tablet and taps it a few times, "And.. ping goes his phone. He's stuck in traffic, heading south to JFK airport." She taps on her comms and says, "Any agents in New York City free, we have a suspect fleeing to the JFK airport. Agent Harry Franks, is one of us, suspected of stealing SHIELD equipment and selling it on the black market." She taps on the city cameras of the road he's on, "He's driving in a red ferrari."

Pierre thumps his head to the table top and continues to blubber as he cries, "It's at an underpass on 17th and Johnson NE at 9pm. He drives up with a VAN. Uh.. he's... my height? brown hair, no beard. Fit? He's fit." He continues to talk at length about how Klein looks but doesn't appear to know he's a SHIELD agent.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Ugh, that man. He needs his mouth washed out with soap," suggests Jane. "Thanks for the feedback. Trying to rough these up drive me a bit crazy." She takes off the glasses with the non-standard lenses and puts them briefly away in their case. Rubbing her shoulder slightly, she hands Daisy's phone back to her. "I figured this wouldn't be used. He's handling things pretty well in there, isn't he?" A glance back to the wall of glass reveals Achilles and Pierre in all their prickly glory. "So from here, what do you take? He's asked the questions I would. How do they contact one another, what sort of protocols they have for communication and meetups. There might be intermediaries to work with, in that event. Or if it's only through phone contact, I assume you can run a tracer?" This to Daisy, even as she watches and bustles around to prepare a cup of coffee with the necessary cream and sugar additives. She herself prefers no such thing, but she'll survive.

"A van? We need more than that. New York plates, white or blue or some other colour?" Pierre's suffering meets a plaintive look from her.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi smiles to Jane, "You did great I thought. And yeah, he's doing a good job of, 'scary' as he put it." She quotes with her fingers. "Excuse me a moment, I'm going to do the paperwork to have that Harriet Faux account frozen and have that flight cancelled. If he does make it to the airport, he's not going anywhere." She sets the tablet down and begins pecking at it with her fingertips. "Someone might want to rescue Achilles from that blubbering mess in there, I think we might be done with him now. So, we should schedule Achilles to run through the recruitment tests, I think, what do you two think?"

Achilles has posed:
    Earbud revealing that they know who the guy is, and have tracked him to the airport, Achilles steps back and glances subtly at the one way mirror in the room. "Well, I think you've given us enough for now." he says to Pierre before backing towards the door, "If this doesn't pan out, I -will- be back. You can count on that." he states before turning to depart through the door.
    The moment said door shuts, he's in the business suit again. Stupid magic bracers. Bracers of holding and changing and... nobody ever really named them. They are just a part of the armor that Achilles wears, forged by Hephaestus. If they -were- given a name, that was lost to history.
    However, like a classic James Bond move, he reaches up and straightens his necktie before running a hand over his short hair to fluff out the 'helmet-hair' before stepping into the side room with a smile on his face, "Scary enough?" he asks the gathered group.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
The mention that Franks is on a red ferrari makes Daisy roll her eyes. "Of course. Greedy." then she reaching over to get her phone when Jane passes it over. A nod and she puts it away. "Yea, he's doing good. Sort of intimidating me too and I am standing on -this- side of the screen. Not that I have forgotten about turning off the phone on my face occasion but ...." a bit of a grumble.

The suggestions from Jane are met with Daisy going back to work on her computer, furiously typing as usual, "We will have to cross-reference with info we get from Franks when he's back with us. A dirty Agent is never a good thing though..." she sighs.

To Bobbi she then says, "I agree. Assessing people seems like a strong point for him. And he does run a security company afterall. I do wonder for how long he has been doing that though."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Pierre looks up as Achilles backs away, "Wh.. what about my deal?." Is the last thing out of his mouth before Achilles has left. He drops his head back to the desk and resumes his sobbing.

Bobbi looks up when Achilles rejoins them and she smiles, "You did good in there. Have you ever thought of taking the SHIELD recruitment tests?" Her eyes return to the tablet as she awaits the various bureaucratic channels to do their thing. "If we're lucky they'll cancel his ticket before he's on the flight and it's flying away from America... but until then, we should get moving in case there's no available agents out there to intercept him."