2484/Black Sun: The Image of a City

Black Sun: The Image of a City
Date of Scene:	16 July 2020
Location:	Warehouse, Jersey City
Synopsis:	SHIELD goes to investigate a remarkable energy signature and finds one of their own viscerally murdered.
Cast of Characters:	Jane Foster, Sam Wilson, Daisy Johnson, Mary Jane Watson, Jemma Simmons, Dane Whitman
Tinyplot:	Black Sun

---

Jane Foster has posed:
0845 hours

Fine art objects being loned from one museum to another for an exhibition require a courier trip. These trips occur when art must be accompanied by museum staff to ensure seamless transport, special handling, and general safety.

It says something that a particular exhibit due to open over the weekend arrive at Newark on a diplomatic flight. Said diplomatic attachés using their protected status escort the objects of the Faith and War exhibition for the Metropolitan Museum of Art in a small flotilla of fine art trucks and black, fancy SUVs with tinted windows and consular license plates.
.
Austria
is not fucking around.

Locked carrying cases chaperoned by museum staff make the short journey to a specialty courier in that forgotten shadow of New York that ought to be New York, and no one ever considers it: Jersey City. The handoff of goods is seamless, with several of the staff headed on to Cloisters and a few to the Austrian consulate.

                                 * * * * * *                                  

1000 hours

WAND office. An alarm politely goes off in the storage area. Repeatedly. The beep becomes a persistent claxon asking nicely for attention until someone answers it. Inside is a Templar relic, a dusty old stamped medal attached to a yellowed ribbon circa the 19th century. The medal glows hotter by the minute, spiking alarms on the temperature-controlled area. Left unattended, it melts the glass of its protective case.

R&D notification. A notification comes bouncing across the network from a source deep in Jersey. One of those low-level informants provides traces of unusual readings ("energy signature unconfirmed") that gets kicked up to someone able to deal with 'weird energy' that doesn't match anything much on file. It's a solid, intense glow giving off... Well, particles. But they are not anything matching gamma radiation, electromagnetic spectral readings, and it's currently in a box about to go over the bridge to New York. Please advice? -- Meris Drew

Ops office. A concerning email traipses across the desk of one Agent Wilson and anyone else. Normally it wouldn't be worth the bother but a CCTV camera in Jersey City just picked up a facial match for someone dead for roughly 75 years or more.

A certain Heinrich. An officer of the Third Reich, declared dead. One who drove away in a Porsche convertible, 1960s model, and outmaneuvered Captain America by throwing a Long Island travel guide at him. His location? Four blocks south of a courier and warehouse complex where Meris Drew, SHIELD informant, works.

Sam Wilson has posed:
It's a quick matter to take ownership of the operation ticket, put together an ops team, and check out an SUV from the motor pool. It takes a bit longer when agents from R&D are trying to get an op approved in practically the same area at the same time, but Sam navigates the bureaucratic snarl by summarily folding the two requests into one. One SUV, six people: Jersey City here we come. He lets people take turns picking songs along the way, because he's nice like that.

Once the SUV parks at a usefully abandoned warehouse situated between their two points of interest, he's out and onto the pavement, wearing a suit and armed with an ICER in a shoulder holster. His flight harness is in the back of the SUV if he needs it, but the last thing they want to do is show up in force, cause a stir, and spook their target or compromise their informant. This is going to be a nice, quiet operation for once.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Agent Johnson is always on duty! Unless we are talking about those small breaks one has from being in front of the computer for too long..., which Daisy takes advantage of to be in front of her .., smartphone, sending pics to a certain 'Furiae' group on whatsapp. This time of a small cat. Apparently she has recently adopted one! And she also has the scratches to show for it ...

"It's claws are getting sharper every day..."

But then a call to go back to Ops. Some emergency? She furrows her brows and sends one last message.

"Something came up. Break time over!"

Going back in to her office doesn't take long, she getting the mail open to see what's up. A supposedly dead Nazi alive? That doesn't bode well...

Though it's time to get to work, look into this CCTV match, possible destinations of that Porsche.. Which means it's time to scour the city in search for possible sightings on another cameras. "That face rings a bell..." she frowns but when the call to go in is brought up she is sure to join in the team going.

All dressed up in her shield uniform, along with her trusty laptop for very legal hacking and checking for where this Heinrich might be.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane Watson wasn't /expecting/ to be taken along on an assignment, but well, she does have a nice combination of people skills, unarmed and melee combat skills, and most importantly... a twelve thousand year old warrior maiden from the Hyborean Age living in her head. So MJ isn't exactly a raw recruit, in any case.

Currently MJ is wearing a black suit jacket over white dress shirt, along with black slacks as her hair is pulled back. She definitely appears to have watched a few too many movies, as she also has on sunglasses to complete the look. She doesn't have a gun, but does have a baton at her hip. "So, what's the play?"

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    The memo with the energy reading has made the rounds...until an notification alert flashes on Jemma Simmons' tablet, a persistent little red dot in the lower right hand corner that is both inconspicuous and completely annoying at the same time. Which means it is a sure thing that Jemma is going to look at the notification.

    "Well, this is a puzzling development." The words are for no one's benefit, as she is alone in the lab. That energy signature. It....looks....familiar, somehow. It is short work for Jemma to start running comparisons for all known energy sources, both natural and not, as she sees the request from Agent Wilson for a representative from R&D. The request is answered with a simple text, as Jemma reaches over to grab her ICER...and not her little backpack of tricks...and takes the tablet away with her, even as a certain picture of a cat is stowed away for further viewing.

    A short drive later with Agent Wilson, and Jemma emerges from the SUV, dressed as her usual ensemble, minus the lapcoat...with that tablet still at hand. It took a while...but the search engine found a couple of tenuous matches to the energy signatures in the initial report. And...at least one is a doozy.

    "Oh bloody hell...." A turn to Sam as the brunette bites the bottom of her lip, hesitant in relaying her information. "I truly hate to complicate matters...but that energy signature that was reported? I have two matches. One is to an artifact that is currently in WAND deep storage. It is weaker...but closer to the readings recently sent. The other is imperfect, but shares similar aspects...." There is that hesitation again...before Jemma just blurts it out. "The other match is Mjolnir. As in Thor's hammer." A beat. "I...recommend extreme caution."

Dane Whitman has posed:
"No, what I'm telling you is that if we've got any more relics of the Third Crusade tucked away in storage, it might behoove you to send the files on them to the /guy that was there/ and that way you won't have to worry as much about these kinds of fire hazards. Now find some holy water and douse the thing, it's the only thing that's likely to cool it off." Dane Whitman is seated in the back seat, talking on his communicator to...someone....probably someone higher up in WAND honestly, or at least with some authority over the artifacts they keep. He looks...gobsmacked for a moment before he adds, "Are you telling me you set up a division to deal with paranormal threats and you don't have a Priest at least on speed-dial? You know what? Nevermind. There's an artifact of potentially apocalyptic power that's threatening to go off the rails, so I'm going to focus on that and you can worry about sprinkler systems and smoke alarms. Black Knight out." Is he exasperated? Why yes, he's very exasperated. He manages to stay calm enough as he climbs out of the SUV, looking pretty much plainclothes for the time being, though the SHIELD branded jacket and badge lanyard are on standby if needed.

He shifts his communit to tie in with Jemma's channel, adding for everyone's information, "The Medallion that went off is one of several that were tied to various great relics seized by the Crusaders. They were supposed to limit their power...render them to no more than museum pieces. But if it was triggered like this, there may not be any more seals left on whatever it is that it's designed to restrain, and if there are, it's no more than one or two." He takes in a deep breath, and exhales slowly, "Point being, like the lady said, we're potentially dealing with an artifact of immense power here."

Jane Foster has posed:
Jersey City. 1045 hours. Grosvenor Courier.

The fine arts community relies on a few trusted hauling companies. Grosvenor is clearly a respected one. The handsome two-storey building serves as an office. Next door stands a large warehouse with typical security measures, and it has deep, triple-wide bays for semis to back up into. Beyond the guarded entry to the warehouse, there is a small fleet of elegant box trucks and smaller vans for transportation. They don't bear any obvious logos.

Through the front doors, entered only by identifying themselves, the foyer is pleasant and elegant with paintings and some comfortable furniture. SHIELD identifying themselves will be met by a receptionist, and they can ask for Meris. Their informant is a woman in her forties, professionally dressed, with expertise in receiving sensitive goods.

Clearly she has no idea about the problem when wandering into an office. The receptionist and a guard are willing to see the little posse off to a nice, secure meeting room.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Wilson takes in the worrying news from Simmons, heaves a sharp breath, and gives her a quick nod. "Good work," he tells her, never one to blame the messenger for bad news. As he catches the tail end of Dane's rant, he flashes a tight smile at both of them. "I guess that rules out our artifact being stolen, at least. But your anomaly just got bumped to our top priority."

He glances at MJ as he heads toward the entrance to the courier's office. Her question should be at least partially answered now, but as he falls in next to her with the rest of the ops team, he elaborates, "Hell of a coincidence for our guy to be right in the area, anyway -- no one comes to Jersey without a reason. If he's after this mini-Mjolnir, we're headed where he's headed. Be ready; sounds like this might turn out to be more exciting than we'd hoped."

After his time with the Avengers, Sam says 'exciting' with the clinical disdain normally reserved for household bugs and robocalls, but once he heads into the office itself, he's all smiles and professional courtesy. With the group in the meeting room, he remains friendly, but a bit of urgency shows through in the set of his jaw.

"Ms. Drew, first I wanted to thank you for your alert," he says, taking a seat and fishing in his jacket pocket for a printout. "Have you noticed anyone unusual in the area, showing interest in your office or your shipments? Particularly this guy." He slides over the sheet, which features both the surveillance and file photos of Heinrich, side by side. Glancing over at Dane, he adds, "We're also curious about anything unusual from the cargo itself -- other than the particles you already saw, of course."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Apocalyptic threats? Nazis that were supposed to be dead coming back to life? Mjolnir-based artifacts? There's no weird like SHIELD weirdness indeed! Daisy is focused though, taking in the info presented for further examination later on while she busies herself in trace that particular porche. And it's not like there are soooo many of them out there in a hot summer day.

"Zero coincidence on these two being connected, is there?" She says of the nazi meet item of apocalyptic power.

But then she gets a match of the silver porsche. "Heinrich's car is parked.., three streets to the south from the warehouse." a couple of taps later and she sends the info to the other agents's devices, with a pin on the location.

Moving inside the warehouse along with the others she stays silent for the moment, laptop tucked away and her arms folded together while Sam talks with the woman except for the greeting. "Hey Meris." but Sam has made the important questions now!

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane just looks busy and professional, flanking Sam and letting the senior agent do the talking for now. Though she does glance over to Daisy when she arrives, flashing the other woman a quick grin as she listens attentively. Though Sonja might be itching to bust some Nazi heads, MJ is in the driver's seat and keeping things on a calmer course.

At least for the moment.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    "No. Chances are null that this is just happenstance." Daisy didn't ask Jemma for an answer, but the scientist feels inclined to give one anyways. And...being that this is indeed Research and Development, Jemma feels inclined to share more. "It is highly documented that the Third Reich was immensely interested in all sorts of arcane artifacts. Though, honestly, up to this point I had assumed it was merely a failing movement grasping for whatever semblance of power they could manage." In other words...she didn't expect those mystical artifacts to be, well...real.

    But...that was before she started working with WAND, too. Proving that some viewpoints can change.

    Mary Jane gets a polite nod and a warm smile as the SHIELD team enters into the office. Meris, however, gets a friendly wave. It seems that the two of them have at least worked with each other in the past. The tablet is still out, as Jemma continues to research. All thanks to encrypted wifi hotspots to maintain connection to SHIELD's network.

Dane Whitman has posed:
Most of the others have asked the pertinent questions, so Dane settles for switching off his comm and listening to see what the answers are, giving Meris a polite smile and a nod by way of greeting, but time may be of the essence and extended introductions will likely have to wait.

Jane Foster has posed:
One, two, three... Six? Meris Drew's eyes widen. She tucks her black hair behind her ear and adjusts her rounded Warby Parker glasses up her nose to hide the nervousness. "Meris Drew, it's a pleasure to meet you all," she introduces herself. A pained look fades behind professionalism and she nods with Jemma, the one she knows best by email at least.

The room can accommodate all of them with the large table suited for rolling out a piece or supporting a small crate being unpacked. For a moment she only has a few forms attached to a clipboard, and a tidy little tablet. She doesn't sit until they sit and takes the paperwork from Sam. "I don't get diplomats escorting boxes and sitting in the office while we set everything up. Museum curators, supervising experts, they are the norm." She hesitates while holding up the photo and shaking her head. "Not someone who looks familiar. It's been rushed, I will tell you that. Last minute, but what can you expect with something like the mask of King Tut? Plenty of security and secrecy. Most of the specialists from the Hofburg Palace and Austria will be here all day until the shipments go over to Cloisters. They're busy packing up the first trucks now."

Everyone gets a tentative smile. This is a big deal! Even MJ is included in this. "I'm sorry. I saw the emissions, they didn't make any sense to me. There is no chance they will let me get any closer but the boxes are sealed. They need twenty-four hours to acclimatize to the humidity and temperature in the museum, so they stayed sealed since they left Vienna," she explains.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Oh yea, six agents! That means it's serious SHIELD business! Daisy moves to take on a sit, a grin given towards MJ in return to hers. "I told you there'd be excitement." then she settling down, tablet in hand. She is still keeping an eye out on cameras, looking for note of this Heinrich out there, or in the whereabouts of the warehouse (she doesn't expect the man to be staying in the porsche right now!).

"When are those items supposed to be taken away?" A glance to Jemms and Dane. "We have a couple of experts here who could help in moving this to a more secure location and ... Heinrich is nowhere near his car anymore." she stops, closing her eyes and opening her gloved hands to the side, as if listening in a very different manner than is the norm. For what is sound if not vibration?

A group on the move, outside, moving close. She tells the others. "We should move quick to secure the artifact." she gets back up to her feet. "We may be getting attacked soon. I am detecting a .., substantially large group moving outside." she goes to the edge of the door, focusing to try and discern more. Her words though, those were of urgency! Something will be rolling down soon!

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane suddenly frowns, drawing out her baton and snapping it out, "Trouble. There's something going on outside. Sounds like..." She pauses, and her demeanor seems to change, no longer mild and generically pleasant. She definitely has an edge to her appearance, and her manners.

Dane, in particular, would recognize this as Katarina (or more specifically, Red Sonja) taking a bit of control of the situation, as MJ says, "Sounds like... chanting. A ritual, I suspect." She flashes a look to Daisy, "I wish I had a sword, but... this will do." Following Daisy to the door, she looks ready to burst out and smack some people up... though she does look back towards Dane for confirmation, first.

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane Whitman extracts the neural-photonic sword from where he keeps it strapped at the small of his back, "Sam, I'd suggest you stay inside here to play last line of defense or in case this is a feint." He gives a nod to MJ, and moves towards the door, but he's speaking as he moves. "Be careful folks...we can't really go in swinging until we know they're actually doing something besides being creepy. Creepy Austro-Bavarian chanting...even while being a potential Nazi...isn't a crime." He adds, even as visions of Nazi Lawyers and PR Flacks raking SHIELD over the coals for assaulting a peaceful assembly flash through his head, "That said...they so much as blink funny, take 'em down hard and fast."

Jane Foster has posed:
"Oh, sometimes bringing around the larger box trucks causes a fair commotion," Meris notes. She doesn't question the order to get out, picking up the notes on Heinrich with her clipboard and tablet. "We'll want to go out the front. Walking over to the storage wing takes longer than fleeting Dion or Stewart at the gate." Fishing around gives her an opportunity to bring out her badge and a smaller RFID-like key on a lanyard. "Here, go ahead and warn them. Tell them to take you straight to Bay C, you can't miss it. You all move faster than I can," she says to Daisy. Being in her forties doesn't mean she can run in trousers and low heels!

If the SHIELD team goes through the hallway, it's not long before they're in the thick of it. The hallway leads from the conference room down to the foyer where two security personnel are hurrying to move the receptionist safely into the back office.

Outside of Grosvenor Courier
Several people come marching up the tidy walkway towards the transport company in two columns, quite precise. One or two hold banners, swaying around so the words are hard to make out: "Remember Smolensk!" and "Met Loots National Treasures" with a rather ugly picture of Uncle Sam dressed in prison stripes. The columns space out quite wide. Totally a peaceful crowd while they chant in German, standing in widely spaced columns.

It becomes clear why. There's a sound of a revving engine and soon, a nice black SUV crashing into the glass doors the SHIELD party entered earlier.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"SS Invicta.." Daisy murmurs, her head canting to the side. "They were doing those same chants on the march back in May." She opens the door but being SMART she lets the one with actual armor and sword to go in front. "Nazis through and through, and clearly with Heinrich." but no need to strike first if they don't need to indeed.

Her hand reaches to the ICER on her hip, drawing it out. Maybe she won't need to use her quaking abilities on these guys (somehow she doubts it).

Upon arrival at the hallway she signals over to the security officers. "Hey, take us to Bay C, we need to---" and that's right when that nice glass is all broken up by an arriving SUV.

"Take cover!" She tells to the guards and receptionist, her eyes on them. "Which way to the artifacts?" her tone urgent. "We can't let these guys steal them!"

But then one hand goes up, her focus is on the SUV that crashed in, one hand lifted up. A faint tremor on the ground and then she is /pushing/ against the vehicle with her powers. It may not help against the oncoming rush of nazis but it may give them a little pause so they can group up and prepare to handle them!

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Recruit Watson is already moving, sprinting /towards/ the SUV that came to a stop after crashing in through the glass doors. She then comes to a halt right by the driver's side front door of the vehicle and actually rips it open, exposing a very shocked driver.

"I'm sorry, I'll need to see your license and registration." She then grins and grabs the driver by his lapels, and throws him about six feet /out/ of the SUV, before spinning down by the back driver's side door of the SUV, twirling her baton in one hand as she keeps that door shut, forcing the others in the car to come out the way she wants them too.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    Well...this is certainly more than just a routine check. Jemma did warn that to be careful, but that was before literal Nazis showed up on the doorstep. She managed the wherewithal to put the tablet away, into a carrying case she managed to take with her...and just slung the case over her shoulder when the SUV crashes through the front.

    That...is a surprise that really was unexpected. With the tablet case just barely on Jemma's shoulder, she turns around, instinctively drawing her ICER. The muzzle of the gun swings up to train on the driver, as Jemma pulls the trigger.

    All in the breath of a single moment, the following occurs. The SUV door is pulled open as Mary Jane reaches in to pull the driver out. The strap on the tablet case slides down, pulling on Jemma's arm and throwing off her aim. The blue dendrotoxin round flies out from the muzzle, flying between the driver and Mary Jane, right between the gap formed by the open door and the SUV body. The passing of the bullet close enough to brush aside a wayward wisp of red hair as it sails beyond the two, out into the crowd of Nazi demonstrators. It sails straight and true, missing many...but striking one, solidly below the right earlobe, causing that person to immediately drop.

    After bullet time has passed and the form drops, the others standing around him watch the man fall...and back away quickly. They certainly do not want to be shot. As that particular section of the crowd disperses, the identity of the fallen individual becomes known.

    Somehow, Jemma just took out Heinrich, the elusive quarry of one Captain America, with a single shot.

    Not that she will know that.

Dane Whitman has posed:
Mary Jane goes right, Dane goes left, but no more Nazis appear to be getting out of the SUV, so he moves past, towards the crowd of chanters. His photonic shield flares into life, and as he walks the armor of the Black Knight coalesces around him.

"You boys might want to start rethinking your party affiliation."

He takes up a ready stance, not entirely overtly threatening, but certainly making clear he's ready to take down any who think they're going to try to take advantage of that hole the SUV just made.

Jane Foster has posed:
The SUV may have great German-made brakes and struts, but none of that makes a difference against the shoving terrestrial pressure forcing it back. Reinforced plate glass isn't just for show but to stop smash-and-grabs. The driver of the SUV fights being hauled out. He grips the wheel until the door disappears and that's MJ-Sonja reaching for him. Sputtering in indignation, he tries to smack her away with a fair bit of effect, much stronger than his years bely. Some flailing from over by the door means he finds himself plowed into broken glass, twisted metal, and pavement.

"Scheisse." Man with Remember Smolensk sign spits. "<<Brothers, keep going! It's just a scratch!>>" The protesters behind him wave their signs and keep on chanting, resolute and ominous. Ancient hymns gone ugly, really. What's a little blood between white supremacists other than a day ending in Y?

Alarms silently ricochet all the way back to Jersey City police. The receptionist scrambles to get through the doors into the deeper office while a guard steps in to cover her retreat. He has a sidearm that he reluctantly pulls, because a gun instead of a light saber or an angry redhead somehow feels awfully insufficient.

His companion, Langen, starts at Daisy as he looks outside at a double line of neo-Nazis. "Down the hall behind me, first right through the double doors, second left and straight on," he says from memory. "You'll need to get through security. It's all locked down with biometrics and codes." He hesitates, only for his partner to nod. "Come on, I'll take you myself. Miss--" Miss Redhead pulling a man out of a car is good, Daisy and Jemma then. "All of you?" Well, no time like the present to dash away with company!

The double line isn't advancing with Dane marching up on them in full regalia. Mostly full regalia. Sure, they back up some but they also keep uttering their weird, warped prayers matched to National Socialism. This isn't /right/.

They aren't engaging. They aren't running.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Like the guards, Sam had drawn his ICER and moved back to cover the retreat of the Grosvenor employees deeper into the building. But as soon as Langen gives his directions to Daisy, Wilson nods sharply and starts running in that direction. Watson and Dane seem to have the chanting Nazis held at bay, but SHIELD still needs to get eyes on the SS throwbacks' target if they're to succeed in their mission.

Let's see... double doors, second left -- and here's the little lockdown station. "Tell me you've got something for this, Johnson," he says urgently. "Hack it, quake it, I'm not picky." SHIELD will foot the bill for repairs, right? Grosvenor's got Nazi coverage on their insurance? Whatever, he's in a rush.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
The dispatching of those nazis is like poetry in motion for Daisy, not hiding a grin. Because punching nazis is a thing, and there's a lot of it going on! "You guys got this?" she asks of those holding the 'line' against the nazi invasion. And ..., she eyes Jemms. What kinda shot was that? She will have to check her latest marksman scores on the range..

"Miss Daisy." Damn it, she did again! She blames those Happy Harbor Students.. "I mean, Agent Johnson. And yes, lets go. Biometrics and codes? That's fine..." a glance given over her shoulder to where Sam was. "I am with you." this she says to Sam. She then points to Langen.

"Officer.., Langen." yes, she can read a nametag! "Let's go." and she proceeds on running down that corridor at a run. Down, right, forward, left, forward!

As they reach there she nods at Sam. "I am always ready for some ..., righteous hacking." she is already bringing out her laptop, preparing it up and it's time to do some magic! The mundane kind of magic, boooo.

She opens the lockdown station and connects herself to it. It will have to be a rough, dirty job. But she is used to those.

"I will need a few minutes here.., cover me."

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane looks at the others, "They are conducting a /ritual/ and if we don't interrupt it somehow, a SUV crashing through the front doors here is going to be the least of our problems!" With that, she makes sure that the driver isn't going anywhere, then she goes out through the shattered remnants of the front doors.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    Frowning at a shot that apparently seemed to miss (or did it?), Jemma backs up to join Daisy and the security guard, holding her ICER out as if she is going to provide cover fire. Still, with what she saw on the energy signature, someone needs to get that artifact under control. And...since the resident expert on all things Crusader-y happens to be running interference with chainmail and photonic sword, it fell on Jemma as the other person aware of what they may be dealing with as the person to handle that.

    "Daisy, I am with you." No other words are given. That is enough to indicate where exactly Jemma is headed. She isn't a combat type, despite what others might claim. "If this chanting is causing the artifact to react, not only is it better to stop the ritual, but to get this item away from here as swiftly as possible."

    Seems perfectly logical.

Dane Whitman has posed:
"No...they're not conducting any ritual. But they want us to //think// they are, or just draw attention. It's a feint." Dane glances back to MJ and jerks his head in the direction the others went. "Regroup. They can trash the reception area if they really want to, and we might be needed in the warehouse." Dane moves back through the entryway, but he does pause long enough to haul Heinrich over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Go on ahead, I'll catch up, but this guy I don't think we want sneaking away." He notes to MJ, and with that he'll cart Heinrich back to the guard station, where hopefully he can leave him in the custody of some guards before moving on ahead. Because no, he doesn't want to carry the Nazi trying to get into the secure area into the actual secure area, thankyouverymuch.

Jane Foster has posed:
The smashed SUV still idles, not going anywhere, and the wise stay out of MJ's path by moving back. They aren't going to cross lightsword with a classy one-by-four from the Despot holding up their beautifully lettered sign. Moving back or breaking into staggered lines, the men -- they're all men, all twelve of them -- don't engage. They might grit their teeth or shout their lines more vociferously, but they aren't giving the pleasure of throwing a punch. The one who called them brothers in German snarls when Heinrich is flung so summarily over Dane's shoulder, and there's a protesting hurl of a sign from some yahoo in the back who thinks he's very brave to huck his sign of nationalist fervor. Sadly signs aren't airborne much. It smacks the SUV's side and slithers off like German units from the Western Front.

                                  * * * * *                                  

Guard Langen bolts alongside Jemma, Daisy, and anyone who wants to head up the warehouse. He follows his own instructions at a jog, not about to leave behind anyone with sense to follow. No need for Daisy to hack unless she likes blitzing security for no reason: he has a passcode. She has Meris' fob and badge. They have to put up with a few scanners and codes jammed into the keypad before reaching the warehouse proper, but it doesn't take that long. Just enough to wind anyone not in average shape.

The warehouse bay is a mass of orderly chaos with security protocols in place: the semi mostly loaded being freed from the gate with its box secured. A last few scared Austrian museum staff are hustling a few crates on rolling dollies between them into a large metal box of a room being overlooked by someone with serious firepower for a civilian. For good reason random artifacts aren't left lying scattered around! There could be a fire, then what?

Few people, all with their purpose. The semi rolls away as a worker shouts, "Dion, make sure it clears the gate! Police have a corridor opening up for the driver, so floor it and forget the wooden arm!" It's the best and worst day of his life to tell a semi driver to gun it to, what, 20 mph and smash through that hated arm blocking the security hut. Ha ha ha, take that arm!

Just one problem. No sign of Meris.

Sam Wilson has posed:
There isn't exactly any cover in the hallway, but as the rest of the group busy themselves with the security checkpoint, Sam drops back to a position where he has a clear field of fire down all approaches, and his body is going to make hitting the geek squad he's escorting a real chore for anyone who tries it. Not that he's too worried -- he trusts Dane to hold the line, and he's seen MJ in action. But he didn't live this long as a powerless man among Avengers by not being cautious.

As he moves into the warehouse, he swaps his ICER for his phone and ID, taking quick snapshots of everyone he crosses paths with and getting a feel for the space. "SHIELD, we're here to keep everyone safe," he'll explain quickly to anyone who challenges him. It doesn't occur to him at first that anyone might be missing, he just wants to catalogue the people who /are/ there, for the record. Old recon instinct.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane looks at Dane, but defers to his leadership since he's the boss. She nods and moves quickly, "Still, it's a pretty effective distraction... be careful." She flashes him a grin then moves rapidly towards the back, following the rest of the group deeper inside the warehouse, sliding the baton back away once more.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
While Daisy -has- been known to just blitz security for no good reason today she follows protocol. And even she was all eager to get that skillset into use she grins when Lagen comes along and opens the way for them. "Efficient, Officer Lagen. I like that." a nod, her laptop is tucked away again and she uses Meris' badge for the job. It's another kind of hacking!

"Jemms, can you track the energy? Is it around here?" she looks around the warehouse and then back and over towards the entrance. Someone is missing .., and she has known Meris long enough to keep the woman in her mind.

"Meris, isn't here.." she taps on her earcomms. "Dane, MJ. Do you see Meris anywhere?" She asks. "She didn't come in with us."

It's strange enough, she is hoping she wasn't caught by any of the nazis..

Jane Foster has posed:
The distance from the conference room to the warehouse should be roughly as far as it was from the foyer. Meris isn't a spring chicken but she presumably moved at some speed given SHIELD's assessed risk. But there are no signs of her there. Confirmation through the walkies and the coms doesn't show the dark-haired Trinidadian lady puffing her way through the doors. Checks come in:

Not in the truck. Nor in the office. Not in the warehouse safe room. Not in the control room up top.

Blanks hitting one by one.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    The ICER is replaced with the tablet as Jemma pulls up information sent as part of Meris' original report. "According to what I have...the item that Meris reported on was slated to go to the Cloisters at the Met right about....now." With that, Jemma looks up and points to the 18-wheeler finishing loading up and prepping to break on out to the other side of the security gate, well away from the Nazi hoard outside. "Looking over this manifest, it would appear that that item in question is going to be as secured there as any facility we could manage in short notice." With a glance towards Sam, Jemma offers. "I would recommend that we assist the delivery driver make his delivery. Under the watchful eye of SHIELD, of course."

    After all, the main objective is to get the artifact away from here. And...if SHIELD knows where it is going...

    "I am currently running a scan on any similar energy readings in the past 24 hours...but the processing is," There is a slight look of disgust, which for Jemma is a rolling of the eyes, "...taking a bit. Otherwise I might know more of what to expect."

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane Whitman makes his way into the warehouse, seeing the Semi starting to pull out, he starts to trot in that direction.

"I'll follow the truck...make sure it gets where it needs to go." It may be bewildering to the non-SHIELD onlookers when the big white winged horse appears virtually right behind the semi, with Dane adroitly hopping on, and lightly flicking the reins to start him galloping off behind the truck as it pulls away. Of course, once they're out of doors he'll take to the air, to watch over the truck from above.

Jane Foster has posed:
Off fly horse and knight to escort a befuddled semi past Jersey City police, through a corridor of flashing blue and red lights. One man looks at his hat, throws it down, and stamps on it. This will, inevitably, lead to an impressive traffic snarl leading into Manhattan, but that's how it goes. First Brainiac, and now a pegasus replacing the Channel 6 weather chopper.

Meanwhile, back in the courier warehouse, there remains a mystery....

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam grimaces as Daisy and the flurry of reports that answer her alert him that Meris has gone missing. He seeks out the warehouse foreman and asks if she arrived ahead of them -- maybe she got in the truck, for some reason? And if not that, he has another idea. "A place this secure has to have security cameras," he suggests. "Somebody touch bases with security and see if they can track her path through the building."

And if even that doesn't turn anything up, he knows a guy who's a pretty good eye in the sky. Tapping away at his phone for a second, he uses a very fancy SHIELD app to summon the Exo-7 from the SUV, flying in autonomous mode. Once it arrives, he straps in to scout the area from the air, in case the SHIELD informant fled the building.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Wooo! Finally, Daisy got to see Strider! But no time to grin or otherwise oggle at the winged horse. Because there is indeed someone still missing, and it's one of their own.

She gets out her laptop and gets ready to finally hack into security. "Lagen. Can you be a gent and put a password here?" she tapping on her laptop for the man to come in and do so, because yes, efficient hacking! That's the name of the game. Why brute force when you can just ask.

But even if the Officer doesn't cooperate she shall do it the ol' hard way. "I am seeing images now. Nothing.., it's like .., she just disappeared after triggering those first double doors."

And then another idea, try to track her phone! She makes a connection and sends in a ping, perhaps not able to give them an exact location but at least if she's still in the area or not. Or at least a direction in where she may be headed/at.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane blinks at Strider, "Whoa, okay, I want to get one of /those/." She grins and looks over at Daisy as the agent starts doing the efficient hacking. Her head tilts a bit as well... this is one area where Sonja isn't that much more clueless than MJ is, "Disappeared... another intrusion wiping out the footage?" She frowns a bit, looking a touch uneasy as she does /not/ like the ritualistic chanting the protesters were doing, decoy or no.

Jane Foster has posed:
Through the cameras, attached to the network and taking a great deal more work to access even with Lagen's help, things aren't looking good. The doors to the warehouse and the long hallway are vacant. The only sign of trouble is a spilled coffee and a man's coat, too large and nothing like what Meris wore. It comes out of an office down there, the door still open. Lagen can confirm the office was shared by experts on environmental control during transport, and confirming the four employees who share it takes a few minutes to account for.

Beyond that, there is another hall, the doors breached on the one side by not the other. It's grainy and hard to see, the body sprawled out in grey unmoving.

Current time.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    Well...now that the delivery truck is on its way with a winged horse escort, Jemma returns back to her tablet. That other search is still chugging along....but that doesn't stop Jemma from attempting to do a recon of her own. That is...until she sees the imagery on Daisy's laptop. Which prompts Jemma to lower the tablet...and to reach for her ICER all over again.

    "Wasn't there supposed to be that driver in the office with Meris? He...was supposedly knocked out." It is clear on Jemma's expression. She...wants to go back and actually physically look in that office, Nazi-chanters be damned.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam returns to ground in the warehouse, wings folding neatly away. Alas, the harness itself is tight enough that he's definitely going to need to get this suit pressed tonight. "No luck," he reports grimly, sliding his goggles up onto his forehead. "Anyone else find anything?"

He scans the room and notes the expression on Daisy's face. "Damn it." He flicks his comms on and sprints to the door, shouting "Tell me where to go" over his shoulder. With guidance over the earpiece, he makes his way to the body and immediately drops to one knee, launching whatever trauma response might help with the kit he has available. Futile or not, he'll do whatever he can to save this woman's life.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Daisy's jaw tightens and she nods mutely at Jemms. Yes, it was time to go out and explore. Or well, Falcon can get out there a lot faster!

She does the guidance through the comms. "Forward, right, right, left... now down the hall." hey, it's just like a computer game!

Yet there is a seriousness to her expression. It's a very unhappy Daisy that is running out to the halls to go and join in even if somewhat later than Falcon to arrive.

"Let's stick together now." she says over her shoulder to MJ and Jemms. Arriving at the scene a while later she takes in a breath, expression somber.

Jane Foster has posed:
Rush how they will, the difference is down to seconds or minutes. Guiding Sam through a run isn't difficult for the layout of the office isn't intended to be complex, this isn't the Triskelion or a fun house. No avant garde design here.

Doors struck from the direction Meris never reached break open with a cheery beep when the codes are punched in; they cannot be triggered remotely and he'll have to work with that short delay with MJ and Daisy offering instruction over the comms. It's not a computer game, though, it isn't some fun CYA RPG. It's real life. Real life where choices have consequences.

The door slips open, and Sam is in, free to approach the downed woman. She lies mostly face down with her glasses slid off her nose, stylish and cobwebbed by faint cracks on warped glass. Then there is her brittle hair spilled from its smart tousle of curls, wreathing her wrinkled face. A spindly brittle hand reaches for the floor, a mercy that it can't reach the emptiness ahead. Her shoes are the only thing on keeping her foot in its actual shape, for otherwise there might be no indication of the curled toes or the withered arches.

The cameras cannot capture the colour of the flesh, the truth of the sight in livid detail. It doesn't show the weathered grey skin or the bloodshot, withered eyeballs. It doesn't show the horror of a centenarian fallen to the ground.

Sam Wilson has posed:
When Sam reaches the body, he starts, shocked that she seems to have aged so many decades in the few seconds she was out of sight. Still, if anyone is equipped for the weird, it's him; he goes to work trying to save her, but with the growing, grim certainty that he's somehow half a century too late.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    It doesn't take much for Jemma to agree with Daisy. Not that there is much verbally signaling agreement either. Jemma just falls right in place with Daisy. It speaks to how well the two work together. It is almost to the level of the Fitzsimmons gestalt.

    But not quite. Because nothing is quite as in sync as Fitzsimmons.

    While Sam may be the fastest of the agents left, Jemma is the actual medical doctor. And...as soon as she arrives at the scene, Jemma politely, but adamantly slides Sam out of the way. Because, as it has been established, she is the battle cleric.

    But....there is no saving this woman. As Jemma looks over the form, she intones quietly and quiet seriously. "This...this is Meris." She points to the glasses upon the withered corpse and the outfit. "See? The skeletal structure is hers. But....she looks practically 100. She was 46." Jemma looks up to Sam and Daisy, frowning. "Something happened here to age her nearly 50 years in a manner of moments. We need to take her back to the labs so I can try to find out why."

    Those brown eyes drop down to the desiccated body at Jemma's feet. "I fear this is only the start of our troubles."

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane looks down at the dessicated corpse, and hisses, "Magic. Dark magic, at that, to cause such an effect." She clenches her fist, Sonja definitely lingering close to the surface as she slams her fist into the wall.

And it leaves a pretty impressive indentation there. She then takes a deep breath, glancing over at Daisy and Sam, "It sounds like this isn't the first time there's been a run-in with these... people." She concentrates on calming down a bit, since dark sorcery like what's been present here... well, to say it bothers her is a massive understatement.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
No computer game indeed. For Daisy SHIELD is family, and when they eventually do arrive to find the aged Meris she hits the wall with the side of her hand, more in frustration than actual anger before a sadness abates on the Agent. She rests her head back against the wall while Jemma goes to work on the fallen Meris, a nod when she offers there's no hope left, another mute nod.

"I will try to reach her family." a feeling of helplessness there, and certainly a job no Agent likes to have, but that's what she will do.

They had done the mission, but the price had been high.

Jane Foster has posed:
Dead. There is no pulse, there is no sign of organs working at all. The secrets will come later when the chance to see her under the lights and on the slab exist.

Some of the elements are off; the twisted bones, the horrific expression on the rictus pull of blue lips back from teeth loosened in their sockets. These haven't differed but the gums do, tissues without any semblance of youth or grace. The smiling woman alarmed by the sudden arrival, the ready action to give them access, all gone. The twinkling spark of her life is dead.

A death that was wrought in pain, alone. Nearly alone.

The circuitry of the cameras rolled back don't show much, when they are consulted, as surely they will be short of facing the wrath of Phil Coulson, director and righteous man. This was one of his. She was one under Ops before shifting to R&D, an informant with a good record and a solid shine of truth.

All the plans that came undone here are wrought by something invisible to the mechanical eye. At least for the start.

There's a sixteen year old boy, a twenty year old girl, a nine year old stepson. Widowed once, remarried. These are but statistics.

Meris is the fallen victim in the garden of agony.

                             Canto I: Jersey City