5945/Prisoner and Present Pickups

Prisoner and Present Pickups
Date of Scene:	15 April 2021
Location:	Carter-Sousa Home - Long Island
Synopsis:	May, Peggy and Sousa go back to the Long Island house to transfer the prisoner Vogel from there to the Playground. They find a strange box on the front porch. Pie. Suspicious pie.
Cast of Characters:	Peggy Carter, Melinda May, Daniel Sousa, Dottie Underwood

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Peggy Carter has posed:
The QuinJet makes this ride far quicker than juggling a prisoner 4 hours across highways, so they've touched down in an airfield about five miles from the Long Island house and then May's preferred SUV has been driven the rest of the way. It's a small team, Peggy, Daniel, and May, but with an ICER and some proper cuffs, they should be able to handle the man perfectly well.

Peggy is in mostly better moods, the party having reminded her of a lot of the good things she'd pushed aside under a pile of guilt and exhaustion from the years. Then there was a bit more settling into the Playground and making certain there's a perfectly comfortable, but highly secure, cell waiting for Kurt Vogel. Now, it's just a matter of getting the man. Peggy's letting Melinda drive, though her dark eyes are ever wary on the road, making certain they haven't been followed and nothing really seems out of place.

Melinda May has posed:
May is about as relaxed as she could be, considering everything going on. Her hands are light on the wheel, but when the arrive at the house, she leaves the car running in the drive until they get the garage door open. Then, she eases the car in and shuts it down before ensuring that garage door is closed behind them. They need the privacy for getting the man back into the car. It really wouldn't do for the neighbors to see the scruffy looking fellow dragged out in chains, after all.

She exits the car, intending to slip out and give the property a quick perimeter check before they get to the business of actually transferring their prisoner. Given the long absence they've had from the house -- the place babysat by Collingwood and McLaren while everyone else has been at the Playground -- it doesn't hurt to double-check.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
The ride in the quinjet was definitely something else, so the drive through familiar territory was a nice counterpoint, for all that the houses had been updated the feel of the neighbourhood was very much the same as it had been in Daniel's day.

When they arrive, he pops out of the car, sticking close to the SUV while May checks the perimeter, his own eyes swiveling around the property to see if he can spot anything out of place. While he might be new to the future he's spent enough time here since his return to get a sense of what should stick out.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
It all seems to be as they left it -- almost. The front porch is dark, making it hard to see, but something's been left on the welcome mat.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Since Peggy knows they both have the outside, it means she'll start with the inside, so she's entirely missed the little gift on the doorstep. She steps to the garage and, even still wearing one of her preferred swing dresses and high heels, smoothly grabs the chain and starts lifting it up so May can pull the car in. "Garage is clear." She calls back to both of them, before pulling her key out of her pocket and slipping into the kitchen door.

She's doing a fast, quick clear of the first floor. Room by room, methodical. Her back pressed to each door as she swings in the next room as she sweeps it with her ICER now in hand. It felt good to have access to all their weapons again. She scoops up the note on the kitchen counter from McLaren, going over the food and schedule Vogel has been through.

Melinda May has posed:
Chances are McLaren and Collingwood haven't been gone long. The idea of leaving Vogel alone in the house for more than an hour or two at most goes against the grain of most of the agents. Hell, leaving him alone for a minute goes against that grain.

May circles from the garage to the side of the house and into the backyard. She does a quick sweep, the landscaping low enough to make it difficult for anyone to hide, unless they're flattened beneath the bushes. But given the size of the property, there's no part of it that's outside her football-field sensory range. That means, as she walks the fences, she's not sensing anyone hiding in the bushes. She comes up along the far side of the house and starts back toward the darkened front porch.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel for his part keeps watch with his back to the SUV before Peggy goes inside and he collapses in towards the house, moving from the SUV to the cover of the now open garage. "In the garage," he calls to Peggy so she knows where he's at in case there is someone waiting inside. Once he hears footsteps in the kitchen, he moves to the door from the garage and says, "We clear?" he asks, keeping his voice low enough so it doesn't carry too far.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"First floor is clear." Peggy calls back towards Daniel, having just cleared the living room as well. "Looks like McLaren just left about 30 minutes ago, nearly perfect timing." Peggy's voice is quiet but clear through the seemingly empty house. She then stares at the front closet, the door shut (as it normally is). Maybe it's her paranoia getting to her, but she knows there are more than corners to hide in. She abruptly, quickly pulls the door open and levels her ICER at...

A stack of old coats. Nothing else. "Now... properly clear. I'll give the upstairs a brief sweep, then we start moving." She's still utterly unaware that there is some gift on the front porch. It wasn't there when McLaren left, or there would be a note about it. She double times up the stairs to go clear the top level out quickly as well.

Melinda May has posed:
May approaches the front porch, expecting it to be clear. It *feels* clear, after all. She pauses, however, as she sees the parcel there. Her nostrils flare slightly and she looks around, as if she could see who dropped it off. It would have to have turned up within the last 30 minutes, if that's how long McLaren's been gone.

She crouches carefully by it, canting her head to listen carefully for any beeps or ticking or such things. She doesn't expect to hear anything -- so many triggers, these days, are wireless. But she's afraid to shift it or even touch it without some form of PPE.

Peggy's not the only one with paranoia. But, to be fair, they *are* holding a head of HYDRA in the basement.

She leaves the box sit there and retreats carefully through the garage into the house. "Peggy?" she calls, glancing to Daniel as she enters. "Daniel. There's a box on the front porch. Looks like a cake box, tied up with string." Spying McLaren's note, she adds, "I doubt it's been there long, but I don't know who put it there and I don't know what's in it."

Translation: She's not willing to trust it.

She moves to the kitchen sink and looks beneath it for some rubber gloves. "Either of you want to help me check it out?" Calling the bomb squad seems like overkill but, again, *head of HYDRA in the basement!*

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel moves inside at Peggy's word the place is clear, gun in one hand, cane in the other. He checks the basement door is still securely locked before moving to the kitchen to wait on the others. When the house is declared fully clear, he puts his ICER away. "Door seems to still be locked, so looks like Vogel is still where he should be," he reports. They'd check in person soon no doubt but Daniel knew his limits and if Vogel was waiting in ambush he preferred not to have to fight him on the uneven ground of the stairs.

He was really going to need to get someone to look at his leg while he's here, especially if he's going to be helping out.

The call from the porch has him limping in that direction, "Sure, I can help, I mean how much can bombs change in 65 years?" he asks with a wry tone. "But seriously, I've got steady hands if that helps," he says as he joins her at the front door.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Finally. Why did Peggy have to make things so difficult? It'd been several days since Dottie first started surveilling the house and she'd taken careful notes of the agents' arrival and departure times. It wouldn't do to have her little present discovered by anyone else. Her vantage point from a parked car in a driveway down the street wasn't ideal, but at least she could make out the figures gathering on the porch.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Oh hell...what now?" Peggy mutters beneath her breath as she hears May's words from the first floor. "I'll be right down. I've got some rubber gloves up here in the bathroom, if nothing else." She and May's minds really do operate alike, sometimes. She finishes clearing the upper two bedrooms quickly, though isn't digging through closets here. The itch against her sixth sense doesn't seem to have been closets, but whatever is that mysterious package on the porch.

She double times it down with two pairs of rubber cleaning gloves from the bathroom. There were also dish gloves beneath the sink, so everyone could get a pair. Peggy stares warily at the box from her place standing just inside the front door. "It... looks like a... diner box. I mean..." She frowns, heavily considering the bomb squad. "Daniel did talk us through disarming a nuke, before. If you want to open it, dear, just... Be careful."

As the other two are opening the box, Peggy now looks out and into the night. Searching trees, other windows, any cars parked on the street. She's looking for anything that should be out of place in their perfectly normal neighborhood.

Melinda May has posed:
May heads out through the garage and back to the porch that way. She just doesn't want to risk opening the front door until she knows what that box may hold. But as she's crouching down beside the box again, Peggy's opening that door, so it hardly matters. She glances to Daniel. "You want to handle this, or shall I?" She gives the man a dry glance. "It's not the bombs that have changed. It's the trigger mechanisms."

Letting him handle it allows her to watch him, but also to start assessing the various emotional signatures within that 100 yard stretch around her. If whomever left the 'gift' is still about, chances are she'll feel a sense of anticipation, possibly even excitement or curiosity. And if it happens to come from a familiar 'signature'... well, so much the better.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"Want might be a bit of a strong word for it," Daniel says of his intentions towards the box, "But we either need to clear this thing or we need to get Vogel out of here right now and call in the bomb squad."

"Right," he says of bomb advancement. "Well, I'll give it a go and if I see anything I don't recognize, I'll give you a shout," he says before taking the gloves from Peggy and nodding for her to step back a bit. "We don't want to give them a chance to blow this thing and get three of us in one go." Then he gets down to one knee by the door, his cane is put aside, his ICER holstered and he pulls out his pocket knife as he starts taking a close survey of the box looking for any wires or other booby traps he might be able to see from the outside before he starts cutting strings and opening boxes.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
It's a plain white box approximately 8"x10"x12", made of waxy, flimsy cardboard and tied closed with a red and white striped string, reminiscent of New York bakery packaging of his time.

Peggy Carter has posed:
There's a line of worry deepening on her features as Daniel seems content to actually open the box and not wait for the bomb squad. "Daniel Sousa, if you get yourself blown up before we even get another date together, I am going to be incredibly cross. I might have to go back in time just to drag you here again so I can kick your ass, you understand?" It's her way of showing love.

She follows May's lead and steps back a good ten feet across the front of the house, shutting the door before she goes so most of the interior will be protected from any bomb damage. "It... really just looks like a box from the Sunset Diner. I think they still use that old ribbon..." Her hand lingers near her ICER, but she's got it holstered and in the shadows again as to not worry her neighbors too much.

Melinda May has posed:
It may well be a box from the Sunset Diner. It may well be nothing more than what it seems. But, again... HYDRA head in the basement. They can't afford to take chances. May just hopes they're not taking a stupid chance with Daniel's life.

In her gut, though, she doubts they are. The integrity of the time stream suggests that he still makes it back to 1956 in one piece. Well enough to get himself shot, anyway... Which means? Maybe they're being really paranoid.

She doesn't care. Better paranoid than dead.

She steps away from the house, hands empty. Her ICER is in a holster against her ribs, inside her jacket. But the further away from the front door she walks, the more a subtly familiar sense of anticipation tickles the hairs on the back of her neck.

She glances briefly to Peggy, her expression telegraphing perplexed curosity and alert concern. Slowly, like she's listening carefully for a sound only she can hear, but that's so faint she's not sure she's really hearing it, she begins to walk away from the house, down the street -- toward that car where their observer sits.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
There's a tight smile, at Peggy's warning, "Don't get blown up?" he asks without looking away from his work. "Yes, chief," he says in the same breezy fashion she'd replied to his warning about getting impaled again in '47. Then he's all business, slowly lifting the lid of the box until he either spots a boobytrap or he can see what is waiting for them inside. For all his joking, now that the lid is being lifted he's starting to sweat a little.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
It's...a pie. At least he spies a fluffy mound of meringue from underneath the lid.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The sight of a perfect, sky-high meringue dusted with toasted coconut on top just makes Peggy blink. May might not know it, but Daniel certainly would -- coconut cream pie is her favorite. Her absolute, cannot resist, would sneak off to a diner for one at 3 am when pregnant *favourite* in the entire world. She recognizes those lovely little flakes of coconut on the meringue which is fluffy enough that the pie has to have been made fresh today. Humidity would have killed it otherwise.

"...It's... Pie. Fresh pie." She takes another step closer, leaning over and dragging in a deep, slow breath of the scent. Her stomach audibly growls in response to the favourite, light, sweet aroma on the air from the freshly opened box. "God that looks... good. I know we shouldn't. It's probably...possibly... poisoned. But hell, it looks good." She admits. She's then looking up to May, her brow furrowed. "...See something?"

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"Well so far so good," Daniel says when he sees pie instead of explosives and wires. He glances back to look at Peggy "Pie" he says before nodding about not giving it a try. "I'll buy you three of these things if we leave this one alone until the pros can have a look," he says, getting back to his feet and stepping away now that we're reasonably sure it's pastry and not plastique. "Though, coconut cream?" he says looking over to Peggy again. "Someone body knows your tastes. Any idea of who'd send this thing?"" he asks. He knew Peg's friends and enemies back in the day, but now he was still very much a fish out of water.

Melinda May has posed:
At this point, May is on the sidewalk near the far corner of the property. There are no cars parked out on the street to draw attention. There are cars in driveways, of course, but... She frowns faintly. Is someone sitting in that car half a block away, or is that just a trick of the dim light. "I'm not sure," she calls back to Peggy.

She starts to drift a little further along the street, her eyes on that singular car, her power reaching out to test the emotional signatures on the properties around her as she continues along the sidewalk.

Unless something changes, it won't be more than a couple of minutes before she gets close enough to know for sure whether or not she's looking at someone in the car... and to quite possibly ID them.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"Well so far so good," Daniel says when he sees pie instead of explosives and wires. He glances back to look at Peggy "Pie" he says before nodding about not giving it a try. "I'll buy you three of these things if we leave this one alone until the pros can have a look," he says, getting back to his feet and stepping away now that we're reasonably sure it's pastry and not plastique. "Though, coconut cream?" he says looking over to Peggy again. "Someone knows your tastes, Peg. Any idea of who'd send this thing?"" he asks. He knew Peg's friends and enemies back in the day, but now he was still very much a fish out of water.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Is there movement inside of that particular car? It's hard to tell in the dark, but that anticipation has tinged with satisfaction. The front seats are empty. Did the trunk just pop open?

Peggy Carter has posed:
"I mean, it *was* just my birthday. I'll admit the timing is a little...unnerving, but..." Peggy then leans over, carefully scooping the box up off of the stoop. She's looking for any other trip wires or traps as she goes, but it really does just seem to be a perfectly normal box of coconut cream pie. A little, tired iaugh escapes her lips, "Do you know how idiotic we are going to look if we bring a perfectly normal coconut cream pie in for analysis to Jemma? Or anyone on her team? I know, I know... we should have a care..." She gives a little groan, her rumbling stomach echoing the same thoughts. "It just looks so perfect."

She's not leaving the front porch yet, though, frowning as she watches May go deeper into the darkness of the sleepy surburban street. Her head tilts, trying to catch sight of any shadows, but the street light nearest to their house was a bit blinding. "Soon as she gets back, we'll take it in, get Vogel *out* of there, and bring it back with us. Someone's been watching the house to have dropped it without McLaren noticing. All the more reason to get him out of there."

Melinda May has posed:
May hears the soft pop of the trunk. She loosens her jacket to give herself better access to her ICER. She doesn't draw it because she *is* still on a suburban street in Long Island and appearances still matter. But she's keeping her options open. Beginning to jog, she crosses the street. There's no question where she's headed now. "Hi," she calls out, waiting to see if anyone answers her. "Hello?"

Her empathy is beginning to register a familiar enough signature now that, the closer she gets to that car, the more her Agent Sense starts pinging. Her hand starts moving for that ICER and a bit more authority leaks into her tone. "Show yourself."

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"Do people not leave card with gifts anymore?" Daniel asks still skeptical about the pie, his look warning Peggy off from trying it. "Like I said, I'll get you three of these things, but we need to get this one tested, if it's pie it's pie, if it's poison, we'll want to know about it." For all sorts of reasons. "In the meantime though, my vote is we get Vogel and get out of here. If someone knows about this place, we need to be elsewhere," even if it was their home.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
The trunk -- still open when May approaches the car -- is empty. The middle console of the backseat lay discarded on the floor. And Dottie is a disappearing shadow. But the front window curtain of one of the houses twitches. Quiet as they've been, it seems that someone in the neighborhood is now paying attention.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"No, I... suppose not. Especially depending on the people." Peggy is starting to get a sinking sensation of who this might have been. Very few people know her tastes, she can count them on one hand, so that narrows it down pretty well. "Come on, I'll knock Vogel out and get him upstairs." Peggy reaches up, carefully touching the subvocal com on her ear since she's certainly not going to yell across the street towards May.

<<We have someone across the street starting to peek. Neighbors are getting nosy. Unless you can catch our gifter now... we'll just get this back to base and test it. More important to get Vogel out of here than to worry about who the great pie-gifter is.>> Of course, Peggy's always going to put the bigger organization before her own personal safety. Even if it does seem she might have a stalker.

Melinda May has posed:
May doesn't pull out her ICER, nor does she pursue the fleeing shadow that is Dottie Underwood. Oh, this close, she recognizes that emotional signature now. It's as clear and unique to her as Peggy or Daniel's own. And it's enough, even without the curtain twitch, to cause the seasoned field agent to turn and hightail it back to the house half a block away. "<<It's Underwood,>>" she says into coms, as she runs. "<<I'm sure of it. You two grab Vogel. I'm prepping the car.>>"

She sprints lightly up the drive and disappears into the garage, pulling the door down far enough behind her that any lookeeloo isn't going to see anything interesting, but leaving it up enough they won't be straining to get it open to leave again.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"That makes sense," Daniel says dryly, when May confirms it's Underwood, "We need to be gone, yesterday," then he's moving with Peg, limping fast beside her, ICER still in the other hand as they go to collect Vogel, Daniel opening the door and letting Peggy lead the way with him following as close as his bad leg will let him.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Mr. Vogel, we've got other accommodations for you." Peggy starts explaining, just enough to get the man's attention as he's sitting up off the bed in the dim basement. The she's shooting two neurotoxin rounds into his chest and the flop of his body on the floor echoes a second later. "No time for gracefulness. At least we get out basement back. Somewhat." And then she's leaning down to carefully shove the man across her shoulder in a fireman's carry. It's not going to be fun getting him up the stairs, but she can manage. She gives a little grunt as she crosses back to Daniel.

"Just get every door...open for me..." She orders, balancing him with very little comfort, but she's managing. She's balancing on the balls of her feet as she's climbing up the basement stairs towards the kitchen and breathlessly out towards the garage door. "We fed him too much." She deadpans, mostly joking, but this isn't how she pictured the night ending.

Melinda May has posed:
By the time Peggy and Daniel have made it to the car and deposited the prisoner, May has the car running, exhaust escaping out of that gap between the asphalt and base of the door that's raised about a third off the ground. She stands by the chain, waiting until they've closed the door on Vogel before she pulls it to open the door fully. Then, she slides back behind the wheel, leaving one of them to pull it closed again while she pauses in the driveway to wait for them to get back in.

Once they're all in, various doors closed, she glances over her shoulder to make sure the HYDRA man is well and truly out. Then, she pulls out of the drive and starts heading back for the airfield and their cloaked quinjet. "I'm seriously beginning to dislike that woman."

Like she didn't already.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"If only Dottie didn't know where we live," Daniel says of them getting their basement back, there's always something. "Anyhow knowing her, she probably knew about this place back when we go it,"

Then he's moving ahead of Peggy, opening doors and helping get Vogel into the SUV. He collapses into a seat as they drive away, "Welcome to our world May," he says, about hating Dottie. "I have to admit I've caught myself wishing some of the old faces were still around, but /she/ wasn't one of them."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg is breathless by the time she's collapsing Vogel into the back seat. She lets Daniel take shot gun this time so she can manage restraining Vogel just in case he'd wake up while they were in transit. She's got a series of zip ties out and is making certain he can't slip free of anything even while leaving him enough room to have circulation. Mostly. She might not be entirely gentle with his body, but he was a head of HYDRA, so keeping him alive is mercy in her head.

"We still need to figure out how she escaped SHIELD custody. Maybe the STRIKE team? But whom among them even knew we still had her and... even worse, who is pulling her strings now? She's found us twice now, without violence or calling the authorities. She... always played her own game. Figuring out what the new game is will be the only way to be rid of her." Peggy explains as she collapses back into the seat next to Vogel, just happy to be on the road.

Her eyes flicker back to the house, a bit of pain brushing through them. "...she probably did know of the house, even back in the day. We... we're not burning the place just yet. But I think we'll be calling the Playground home for a while. It'll be...for the best." She reaches a hand up to wrap across Daniel's shoulder, giving a quiet, almost apologetic squeeze. She kept the house in good shape so many years only for it to be inaccessible now out of their own paranoia. Then she realizes. "...shit. Did anyone grab the pie?"

Melinda May has posed:
Unless Daniel grabbed it... Probably not. But since he owes Peggy at least three of them, given his earlier promises, it's probably not the end of the world. Unless some neighbour's cat ends up dead of poisoned cream. (That should be a capital offence, really.)

May keeps her eyes on the road, using her mirrors to check for a tail. Specifically, a perky Russian tail whose unique emotional signature of curosity, anticipation, and excitement where Peggy is concerned (combined with that subtle, ever-present loathing for American decadence) is now burned into May's Inhuman brain.

"Let's just get this bastard back to the Playground and go find Huttz. Underwood has an agenda, but Even I know we're not going to figure it out anytime soon." Priorities, indeed.

As it happens, however, the rest of the trip to the airfield is uneventful. And if they look odd, pulling up at the end of a seemingly empty runway, well... it's not like there's anyone else around to see.