5418/The Spy who wasn't

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The Spy who wasn't
Date of Scene: 02 March 2021
Location: Hotel in Italy
Synopsis: After the events at the HYDRA's hidden base. Elena waits for word from the rest of the team. May, having escaped her own situation, comes to collect the agent only for them to be chased by a team sent from HYDRA. Elena dreams of double hamburgers.
Cast of Characters: Elena Rodriguez, Melinda May




Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Contengencies and fallbacks.

Peggy Carter had set up everything for just in cases, given each of them a place to retreat should things go sideways, and boy had they ever. Elena sat on the end of the couch with her jacket laid behind her on the bed, turning the analog flip phone over in her hand with a look of concern on her face. Last she'd seen the team, they were running in different directions, seperated, and being chased by HYDRA's response.

She's pretty sure she'd seen May getting taken away by Vatican guard too.

That was going to look terrible on her permanent record.

For the sixth hundredth time, YoYo flipped the phone open to see if there were any calls or missed messages.. And for the sixth hundredth time, there wasn't. "Dios mio."

Melinda May has posed:
It took May a handful of hours to make her way back to the hotel -- mainly because of the detours she took. First, there was the fight with the Vatican police outside the station when she gave them the slip. Then there was sneaking her way across the city and into the hospital where Katherine Huttz was being kept. Then, she had to disguise herself as a doctor and convince the woman she was Hydra... all in order to pump her for information.

And, Holy Freaking God, did she get information.

Now, having found yet *another* change of clothes -- incluing yet another hat and some shades -- she makes her way through the hotel, up the stairs (because she refuses to get caught in an elevator where her face can be scrutinized for so long without interruption), and down the corridor to the room she *hopes* Elena is still waiting within.

Since she didn't stop at the concierge's desk to pick up a room key, she resorts to a quick tripple rap on the door. Seriously. It better be Elena that answers.

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Elena wishes that she'd the forethought to change rooms, but she hadn't. To be sure, she's surpemely gifted when it comes to conducting a covert war against Cartel, but all this spycraft business was so far out of her wheelhouse it might as well be a sled. The Columbian Agent had boosted a number of items from the hidden HYDRA base, most of it of no real importance, some files, a couple hard copy photographs, and one whole harddrive. It sat unplugged on the dresser in front of her in a neat pile, but she doesn't speak Italian, and doesn't dare use anything connected to SHIELD to translate it.

At least she's given it that much thought?

Turning the cellphone in her palm, she flips it open once again, only for there to be three sharp knocks on the door. Nearly startling her right out of her unlaced boots.. she glances over quickly, sending loose hair flailing around her face. "Solo un minuto... Just a minute!"

moving quickly to slide all the stolen intel into a drawer, she pockets the phone and heads for the door. Peeking the eyehole before pulling it open.

Melinda May has posed:
May looks up at the Colombian, before making a somewhat impatient gesture. "Are you going to let me in?" she asks. "I really don't want to hang out in the hallway. La Polizia Vaticana aren't the type to give up quickly."

Saying so, she slips past Elena and into the room. Only once safely inside does she pull off her cap and let her dark hair fall down, plucking the shades off a moment later. She gives the room a quick scan, noting nothing sitting out where it shouldn't be, nothing terribly amiss. That elicits a faint nod of satisfaction from her before she fixes Elena with a direct look. "You good?"

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Elena is both relieved to see May and apprehensive.. The two are not mutually exclusive reactions, but at least there's more relief than the other. Turning so that the senior Agent can pass through, she peeks up and down the hall quickly before closing the door behind them. Setting the bolt, the chain, and the metal hook in place for a little, futile, security. "Si, buena."

Palms running down her thighs, she doesn't look nearly as anxious as she feels. "Have you met up with anyone else? I've been waiting for others to contact, but nothing so far." It's only been a few hours, though. Nodding towards some water bottles and asorted snacks. Stuff you'd find in any hotel room.

Melinda May has posed:
May shakes her head briefly. "No. I've been a little busy." Escaping from custody. Questioning a suspect. Spy stuff. "We need to get a message to Peggy. You still got the burner? A text will do. We need to tell her we'll rendezvous stateside. It's too hot for me to stay here any longer than necessary. You and I need to get back to The Church and on the Quinjet A.S.A.P."

She pauses a moment, and then holds out her hand for the phone, suspecting the message is something she might be better at composing: 'Had fun today. Heading home to sleep off the hangover. Catch up with you later. E.M.'

Innocuous, but something Peggy will understand.

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
The phone is fished out of Elena's pocket and held out for May, slipping it into the Senior Agent's out stretched palm. Concern starting to itch itself onto her face, in her body language as she shoves that empty hand back into the pocket of her cargo pants and moves over to the small refreshment counter to grab an Italian version of name brand snacks. Habitual behavior.

She takes a breath and rubs the back of her neck, beneath hair free of her usual ponytail, and tears open the bag of snacks with her teeth. Spitting out the small bit of wrapper, "I am sorry.. I did not mean.." Thumb over her shoulder, "At the Library. I lost control a little bit of my abilities. Things went upsidedown.. I did not mean to ruin op."

Rip off the bandaid.

Melinda May has posed:
May's thumbs are remarkably quick on the small keypad of the old phone. But, then, she cut her texting teeth on tech like this. When the message is sent, she waits a moment to see if there's an immediate response before she hands it back to Elena.

As the Colombian makes her appology, the Asian inhales a slow breath. May has rarely been one to lash out in anger, unless it's physically. She tends to store it and redirect it. Channels it into beating up HYDRA.

"Ops go sideways," she says after a moment. "Yeah, you screwed up... But maybe we did, too. It's not like you got a lot of prep. And none of us know how to work with your powers. We all need to learn." A grimace tugs her lips sideways. "But the first thing we need to do is get out of here."

No, May didn't blow up at her. Why? Because she had time to beat the hell out of the cops and scored some major intelligence points on Katherine Huttz, which she couldn't have done if everything had gone smoothly. So, she lets experience talk, instead.

Doesn't mean Elena won't get Gibbs-smacked.

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Sometimes it's the tempered responses that sting, though. Elena was expecting something a little more direct, still does really, but when it's just a quiet undressing? That cuts deep. Nodding, she pulls open the drawer where she'd stored the intel she'd boosted and holds it out in one hand. "I took as much as I was able before I had to get out." It's not meant as icing on her apology, but there's a genuine look about her that hopes it helps.

"I don't read Italian, so I do not know what is on any of it.." Yet another broken link in her SHIELD.. heeeeyoooo... "Nor did I want to hook the hardrive of to anything incase there was some tracer program installed." She again shows her green by not realizing that she wouldn't have to hook it up to set off a tracer program if one were embed.

Melinda May has posed:
Without power, the harddrive is likely safe from tracers done via programming. But an embedded tracking chip? That's another story altogether. "Let me see it," May says, a hint of sharpness to her tone.
Without power, the harddrive is likely safe from tracers done via programming. But an embedded tracking chip? That's another story altogether. "Let me see it," May says, a hint of sharpness to her tone.

When the harddrive is in her hands, she starts examining it closely. Her thumb runs along its edge, thumbnail snagging under small hooks and pressing them open. When she pries the outer case off it, the real harddrive inside has a small red LED atop a little black and green HYDRA symbol, pulsing away calmly. She grimaces again, realizing just how much more the speedster beside her has to learn. "Sonuva..."

With a deft flick of her thumb, she separates the internal harddrive from the little stick-on insignia and its flashing light. Then, she shoves the remaining hardware -- safely debugged -- into the pocket of her stolen jacket. "We gotta move," she tells Elena, starting for the door. "Grab whatever else you took, leave the casing here. HYDRA's coming and we *do not* want to be here when they arrive."

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Check your corners, Elena.

It's drilled into every Agent, but whether through language barrier or hard headedness, she always fell just short of checking the hardware.. those are corners too, in a manner of speaking. So she's staring in aghast horror as May pries the device apart and immediately finds the obvious tracking chip that had been placed inside...

Her face, usually a nice, pleasantly tanned, goes ghostly white. "Shit."

Moving quickly, she heads for the closet to grab the case from the small ceiling panel between floors, and comes back with it. A pair of ICERs and a Beretta 92fs she'd brought from her own personal stock. One ICER is slid over to May, the other two are tucked away into holsters beneath the jacket she's thrown on quickly. Folding the files and folders, she tucks those into the back of her cargopants beneath the jacket.

And covers it all with a little jerk of her wrists to flare the coat out down her back. "The room next door is unoccupied. Balcony access with a five foot gap to the adjacent building." Pointing out her own window with a nod. A little over hang extending out to shorten the distance about a dozen feet to the north.

Already moving for the door between the two rooms to listen through the panel.

Melinda May has posed:
"Let's go, then," May says, backpedalling away from the door to the corridor. She can't hear voices, but that 6th sense all longtime agents develop has the hairs on the back of her neck standing up on end. HYDRA has had too long to track the damned thing not to be closing in as they speak.

She takes the ICER Elena offers, tucking it into the back of her pants. She then moves and stomps heavily on the plastic case with the little bug in it. It breaks, allowing her to pull out a strip of hard plastic. Bringing it to the door, she uses it to jimmy the latch between the rooms. The door pops open a second later and she's stepping through, hand reaching into her jacket for her ICER.

It's unnecessary. As Elena suggested, the room is unoccupied. She waits for the speedster to join her and then tosses the plastic piece back into the other room before she closes the door and locks it again. It might buy them another 2 minutes. After that, she's heading for the balcony.

Not a moment too soon, given the bang that sounds from the corridor as someone or something kicks in the door to the room they just left behind.

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Elena is moving in quick unison with the Senior Agent. Reaching her hand beneath her coat to the ICER grip tucked near the folded files at the back of her pants. She checks the north facing wall that leads into the bathroom with a quick scan, but's heading purposefully to the sliding door out onto the balcony just as the entrance to the adjacent room is kicked in.

No time to lose.

She takes a breath, rocks on her back foot, and leaps across the gap with relative ease with just a small bit of acceleration of her speed. Enough to clear the ledge without risking being pulled back across when she lands. It puts them in view of the balcony and whomever was now on their tail.

Even less time to kick herself. That'll come later. Right now it's time to run. "There's a roof access ahead or the hardway." The hard way is a set of balcony/awnings that will take them right down into the alleyway. ... She's pretty sure she knows which way they're going.

Melinda May has posed:
May doesn't stop to close the balcony door behind them. There's little point. She leaves the ICER in her pantwaist, so her hands are free as she makes the running leap across the gap. Unlike Elena, she doesn't have a burst of superspeed to make that an easier feat. She just has long years of parkour practice.

So, she pitches her weight forward to ensure she's got momentum behind her. "Hardway," she says, heading straight for the roof edge. "They'll have the accesses covered." Inevitably.

As they start the inevitable descent -- jump, grab, twist, launch, bounce, repeat -- she keeps her eye on Elena to make sure the Colombian is with her. It's not that she doesn't think Elena's got the speed. She just doesn't know if she's got the practice in the non-running parts. That, and she needs to be able to speak to her without shouting... to pass on some very important info.

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Just about how she saw it going. Elena doesn't even bother angling towards the access, finding herself standing on the edge of the roof with May when the room behind them, or the window into it anyway, errupts outwards with a crash. Someone, at least, is right on their tail. So there's no time to think about whether she can do it, only knowing that she has to.

The Columbian makes the first drop and loses her feet on the cloth awning. Sliding across it when her butt hits, fingers only digging into the metal rail running along the edge at the last second before the very very long drop. Dangling there, she grunts out a sigh and drops to the balcony, landing a little less gracefully than she hoped, but managing to get her feet beneath her for the next jump.

If May is dancing down that series of precarious falls, Elena is.. falling precariously.

We'll call it controlled chaos.

She doesn't complain though. Not even a peep as when she hits the sidewalk and has to catch herself on a trashcan to keep from falling over. "Need a car." Understatement. "And about six more years of training." That part she says under her breath.

Melinda May has posed:
"Vespa might be better," May says, acknowledging the thought about the car with a nod. She gives the other agent a direct look, "If we're caught, you say *nothing* about SHIELD. Got it? Cop to being a Cabal agent, if you have to, but *nothing* about SHIELD. We are not SHIELD agents, right now. We are rogue."

She has no idea who or what the Cabal is, either, so she doesn't explain. She just knows it's a good choice, given her conversation with Huttz.

She sprints toward the mouth of the alley, checking the corners and making sure the way is clear ahead. She can hear the footsteps pounding behind them. And when the first shot rings out, she ducks and couches closer to the wall before she darts around the corner and out toward the street.

"Never mind," she says, pointing to the valet access in front of the hotel. "That will do."

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
"Cabal, got it." Elena is moving at a normal speed, keeping May up with her in a situation where she could, in theory, just disappear... for a bit anyways. Speed comes with it's own hiccups. Holding her side where she'd hit the balcony wall, she ducks when the first shot rings and rolls down behind the wall for cover with her hand grabbing for the ICER on her hip.

Peeking in with little jerks of her head to keep form presenting a nice shiny target, she's about to return fire when May says there's another means of escape in the form of Valet access. "I get a car." Jerking a little in that direction, there's a kick of dirt around the edge of the building with a set of keys being exchange between owner and valet appearing in the Columbian's hand when she reappears (in a manner of speaking) across the alley entrance from May. Side arm tossing them towards the Asian Agent.

Who is on that side of the building. Speeding across wont do her much good. "I'll hold them here, you bring the car?"

Melinda May has posed:
May catches the keys in acknowledgement. Then, she's off dodging traffic. The man who owns that nice shiny car has already gone inside -- probably because the sound of shooting in the streets scared him off. The Valet, too, for that matter. No car is worth getting shot over. Thus, May slides behind the wheel easily. And, it being a fancy newer car, she only has to push a button to start it. The fob gets tossed into a drink holder.

By the time the first of the HYDRA retrieval team is entering the far end of the alley, May has spun the car around and is opening the passenger door for Elena. "Get in!"

She waits only long enough for the other agent to get her butt in the seat before she's peeling away from the alley and weaving into to traffice. Better get that door closed, quick.

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Elena leans up against the corner of the wall, as much protection from the brick as she can scratch out while May is off to retrieve the vehicle that will get them out of here. Soon as the Senior Agent is headed towards it, however, the Columbian hangs around the corner and fires off a couple of shots down the alley. Mostly to keep the retrieval team from poking their heads out or advancing.

It's supression fire.

Whipping back around to the wall as the return volley comes... there's a lot more of them than her.. Except she's a whole lot faster. A blur of motion, YoYo ghosts across the opening, with a trail of YoYo's tethered to the wall where she was holding cover. Firing shots, well placed shots, at two of the HYDRA agents. Nothing fatal, not with an ICER, but definitely a little act right...

Whipping back into place with a wiiisssss of air to her original spot as May whips the car around... Elena dives into the open door, pulling herself into the seat, and only getting the door closed /after/ May has wisked them off into traffic.

Peeking over her shoulder with a panting sigh from her nostrils, fully expecting black SUVs to be following them. Why is it always black SUVs?

Melinda May has posed:
Black SUVs are to Spies what White Creeper Vans are to Cable Guys. An occupational necessity. It's inevitable, of course, that they would follow. There's always a wheelman. And usually a back-up crew. May is swerving around a corner as she catches sight of the tail pcking them up.

Her second language is Chinese, and she doesn't resort to using it half so often as Elena does Spanish -- probably because Spanish is Elena's first language and English the second. But she's tempted to let off a string of Chinese curses (Firefly style).

This has been, she's sure, one of the worst days she's had in a while.

"Four cars back on the right," she tells her passenger. "See if you can pop tires?"

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Elena sees them as they whip around the corner, nearly smashing against the window where she's on her left knee half turned to look out the back as the center of gravity shifts to the right. She does, unlike May, resort to a string of rather expressive obscenities when her shoulder spiderwebs the glass, but nods to the instructions all the same.

Top two worst days, for sure.

Funny that they are comically yesterday and today...

Rather than attempt to roll down a broken window, Elena turns on the seat and smashes it the rest of the way out with her heel and grips the top of the roof to hold herself in an awkward outward lean with her left hand gripping her pistol, the beretta, to snap off a few shots as they weave through traffic.

Which is not, at all, an easy thing to do.

Where she is not a very good spy, however, she's an insanely good shot.

The third bullet hits a tire, which causes a chain reaction of destruction... One SUV hits another, which hits a civilians car in traffic, which hits another. It's a grimace worthy level of exagerated action movie nonsense that when seen in reality makes the stomach turn. Two of the tail are, mostly, lost though.

So that's a plus.

Melinda May has posed:
And here's where May proves her street cred, not just as a Quinjet pilot. There's traffic. There's construction. It's winter, so there are puddles and something that might resemble snow-ish, given they're far enough south that New York winters aren't a concern. It's 45F, so it's not like snow is a real concern. But rain isn't good. Not in a little sporty model like this.

Relying on Elena to handle the bullets, she keeps her hands on the wheel and starts weaving insanely in and out of traffic. She avoids the pedstrians and keeps herself ahead of the collisions, like she's trying to outrun a wave.

And maybe she is.

Sirens sound in the distance. She lets out a chuff of air. "We need to lose these yahoos before the cops figure out we're the ones they want. If we can ditch them long enough to merge into regular traffic, we've got a chance."

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Elena is sweating, even in the cold. Even hanging out the side of a sports car whipping through cold rain. A mixture of that rain and the persperation is matting her dark hair against her face. Not quite winded, but all that rushing around and jumping from roofs takes its tole, even on the inhuman speedster.

That said, she can appreciate the gravitas of their situation.

IF the police figure out they're the ones doing the shooty chasy, there'll be hell to pay. And international incidents are rarely smiled upon in their line of work. So with a brisk nod, YoYo glances back through the window behind the seat, and begins to lean back out the window as if to fire off a couple shots.

Only she doesn't.

There's a kick up of wind around the cabin of the car as she rolls out the window and begins running. Using her accelerated speed to keep from rolling into a dangerous end over end careen into traffic that would have been disasterously deadly. With that build up of speed, there's a field of kinetic energy that radiates in front of her. The only thing that prevents her from taking fatal damage when she YoYo's back, often through walls or cars or whatever might be in her way.

It also protects her from windshields.

Smashing through one of the SUVs feet first, she kicks the driver right in the chest with 150 mph force. Hooks the wheel with her right hand as she's precariously dangling out the front of the vehicle, and jerks it to the right, directly into the oncoming path of another Black SUV.

It is not going to be a pretty collision.

Nor will YoYo be there to see it up close.

Yanked backwards, she grabs hold of the broken window with a bare hand and swings into the seat with breathless pant.. leaning forward with her forehead against the dashboard. One finger held up, silently requesting a breather.

Melinda May has posed:
May's brows rise as she just barely perceives Yoyo's trick. Yeah. What she gets is, one moment Yoyo was looking out the window; the next, she's got her forehead on the dash as a momentous crash cascades behind them. Daaaaaaaaamn. She side-eyes Elena for half a second, before turning her attention back to the road.

"Clean out the rest of that glass," she suggests, her voice calm and quiet. "We'll lose them on the highway and take the long way back around to The Church..."

Because she seriously doubts HYDRA is going to be getting through that catastrophe any time soon.

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Elena has some pretty serious lacerations in the palm of her hand from grabbing the glass, but she's use to that kind of injury. Wrapping it with whatever she can find laying around in the back seat while catching her breath, she then uses her elbow to clean out the rest of the glass. The thick jacket making it a lot less harmful.

Once she's got it cleaned out, her head falls backwards against the seat, a little pale, but grinning as she looks over at May. Not that she takes any pride in having caused that much damage, she really doesn't, but what was the alternative?

"I need a hamburger." It's not a joke. She's not cracking wise or trying to be funny. "Blood sugar is dangerously low."

Melinda May has posed:
May's jaw tightens, lips pressing together in concern. "I don't know where there's a drivethru," she says. "I'll find something." If nothing else, she can perhaps find a gas station and pick up a couple of energy drinks. She has a few lira on her -- mostly stolen, but that's life. "Hang on."

Her dark eyes scan ahead. It takes several minutes before she can pull off and risk pausing long enough to buy some form of food. "Stay here." She doesn't need Elena collapsing in the middle of an Italian convenience store.

When she returns, she has a small paper bag filled with assorted snacks and food. It's not a hamburger, unfortunately. More carbs, less protien, but the energy drinks should help. Once they get to The Church, they can get Elena a real meal.

As May starts the car again, she glances worriedly to the Inhuman beside her. "You still with me?"

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Elena is getting a little loopy, but she's still awakeish when May returns, sucking down the energy drinks in rapid succession just to artificially boost her sugar, "Mhm." Dreamy sound, far off, but grinning like an idiot. She runs her hand back over her head, through her hair. Hair that's slick with rain and sweat, the other hand shoves candy bars in her face with alarming amounts of consistency. Nobody should see that kind of gluttonous eating.

She only coughs once though.

Still slumped in the seat with her cheek pressing into her palm to prop it up, she looks around the interior of the vehicle they'd stolen with a snorting laugh. Somehow finding the luxury of their travel arrangements ovetly humorous despite the dangerous situation they remain in. "Even when we running from HYDRA, we run in style..." Smooth, hand sliding out across the dashboard.

A drop in sugar often makes people a little weird.

Not that YoYo isn't a little weird anyways.

Melinda May has posed:
May almost laughs at that. At the very least, she glances at the Colombian and gives a wry twist to her lips. "We aim to please," she says with a mild shrug. Her driving is a lot more sedate, now. She's trying not to attract attention. They'll attract enough simply by virtue of the open window in this weather.

"The Church is about a half hour from here," she tells Elena. "You gonna last that long?" She sure hopes so. Because, damn, that super power of hers is both handy and a decided pain in the butt.

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Elena looks at her wrist, a small monitor on her watch that keeps track of her blood sugar which shows it climbing, but not as rapidly as she might like. "Mmm... I'll be okay." She concludes, nodding to May as she slumps down further into the seat. The truth is, she's really unsure of the exact extent of her powers.

What she's fully capable of.

She'd been able to run without the YoYo effect at the library, but had no idea how she managed it. It'd cost them the mission. Only that she stopped thinking and things happened too fast for her to stop. Like losing hold of a train and falling into the dirt as it rode off the tracks.

"Might sleep..." Noisely eating another Italian version of a snickers bar in several quick bites. Blinking a few times against the heaviness of her eyelids. "Need to find a better solution for ... for..." waving her hand, trying to come up with the english word for it. "This." It's the best she's got.

Melinda May has posed:
"You need to talk to Simmons," May tells Elena seriously. "If anyone can come up with some way to help stabilize you, it's her." She doesn't know what other options are out there, short of carrying an emergency diabetic shot around with her. And that's not really a solution, given it's not actually the problem.

"Rest," the senior agent orders. "If I need you awake, I'll let you know." Truthfully, though, between here and the Church, she's really hoping there won't be any need. Luck's been fickle, today. Sometimes generous, sometimes a right bitch on wheels.

Thing is, that's May, too. So, she'll survive.

"When we get back to base, we'll get you something proper to eat and head for home."

Elena Rodriguez has posed:
Elena lifts her hip enough to slide the beretta out of her waistband and move it to the middle console where May can get to it if she needs it. Keenly aware that she's in no condition to try and shoot anyone right now anyways, the junior agent isn't willing to put their fate in the hands of an ICER given the nature of who was chasing them.

Nodding to May's assurance that she can rest and that she should speak with Simmons once they return state side. "I will." To both, drifting off whether she wants to or not. After four energy drinks and just as many candy bars. Her body burns off the sugar almost as fast as she can consume it after all that exersion.

"hamburguesa doble de tocino con papas fritas dobles.." that's a nice dream. Grinning, agent Rodriguez passes out with her chin tucked against her own chest.