616/Defection Part 2: Russian Beargaloo

Defection Part 2: Russian Beargaloo
Date of Scene:	18 March 2020
Location:	A safe house in the Bronx
Synopsis:	Ursa Major successfully defects with the help of Clint and Natasha.
Cast of Characters:	Mikhail Uriokovitch, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff

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Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik had reached out a few days ago to an associate who did... work with both sides of the intelligence community. He had received instructions to wait at a nondescript house in a sleepy neighbor hood and wait. He brought along supplies, as he was unsure of how long he was tow ait, and did not know exactly who would be picking him up. He found a relatively defensible part of the house, the stairs, and sits waiting, bottle of vodka by his right, a burner phone to his left, and a shotgun in his lap. He sits there, waiting.

Clint Barton has posed:
A Russian superhero looking to defect? That was too good to pass up. So, SHIELD was contacted and through a bit of back and forth with the contact, Mikhail was directed to a SHIELD safehouse an word was sent to Nat and Clint, giving them the details of who it was they were supposed to be meeting.

They came early of course, checked out the area, made sure through some high-tech binoculars the subject was alone, ensured that there were no Russian agents ready to pounce... before the headed into the building where Mikhail was waiting for them. "So, you meet this guy before?" Clint asks, he's in his civvies, leather jacket, knit cap, shades. No bow today but he was wearing a pistol in a shoulder holster under his coat.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha would be a bit of a hyprocite if she pushed against taking Russian defectors, but a spy's paranoia is real, and well earned. If her old... handlers know she's still alive, it could be bad for her. And if they don't? Well, who knows might recognize her and tell them.
    But a job's a job, and Natasha's nothing if not professional. She's a few days away from going to Asgard, so she doesn't yet have cause to worry about heart attacks, and is focused on the moment.
    After surveying the area, Natasha shares a look with Clint, confirming the apparent safety to approach, and walks beside him towards the safehouse. "Never met him, no." She says in a bland even voice - not yet putting on the pretense of expressions that don't come naturally to her. With others she tends to put them on as a courtesy. Around Clint... she doesn't. She's comfortable around him, and by now he should get it. "I'd read about a Mutant like him before, though. Kept on reserve when people needed hurting. Extremely dangerous. ... Should be too old for this, but..." Natasha shakes her head very faintly, "Their people have ways."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik's faintly hears, or at least thinks he hears, talking and takes a swig of vodka before moving. The gun is already racked, he had been around long enough to not give his position away so easily, so he tries to creep down the stairs as well as he can and looks to the door. The shotgun's muzzle is pointed at the ground for the moment, but in a position where he could whip it up to fire quickly enough. He mumbles some words under his breath and takes cover behind the kitchen island.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Ah," Clint says. "So a furry Winter Soldier then," he says. "Fun."

They draw closer to the door.

"If I get mauled by a mutant bear today, just saying, totally your fault."

Clint nods sagely with a smile for his partner before it's time to get his game face on, dropping immediately in to ops mode. Signalling by hand signals he'd go first as they get near the door. The Black Widow showing up at his door might send the wrong message.

Once they're in position Clint knocks, "It's raining out, can we borrow an umbrella?" he calls out. It was the code phrase that should have been sent to Mikhail through the contact. If not, today was going to be an interesting day.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    "Hysterical." Natasha agrees flatly. She... hasn't really told anyone about her own escapades on ice, for the most part. Keep things simple, you know?
    At the door, Natasha's expression shifts to one of sympathy - perhaps practicing - before taking on a serious focused air. The corner of her lip faintly twitches. "I'll put that in the report." She says, as she steps aside into position, "He died as he lived, sir. Complaining to the bitter end."
    It's true, anyone who even might know about the Black Widow PROBABLY doesn't want to see her without context. Her existance is highly classified, never mind her defection or death, whichever the Red Room may believe.
    She keeps one hand ready to grab a concealed pistol if necessary.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
"I do not have umbrella, but I have poncho," Mik says in response and apprehensively approaches the door, unlocking and opening it, but keeping most of his frame behind it as he opens, stepping away as it opens the rest of the way, "I hope all is well?" He looks over the two and gestures for them to come in with his free hand, the shotgun pointed at the ground. "Cannot be too careful, knowing Kremlin, they would send someone after me. They do not like to lose their tools."

Clint Barton has posed:
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Clint jokes about going to his death complaining.

As for Nat's ice escapades, or... dare we say it icecapades? He doesn't know or he'd have never made the joke. That's a horrible way to live.

The door opens, and Clint finds himself eye to eye with the Russian wall of muscle. "Must be a really big poncho," he jokes lightly.

"All clear outside, my partner and I will step in make sure we're all on the same page and if you check out we'll get you to a secondary and much more secure location."

He steps inside making room for Nat to join them. "And no, they definitely do not like losing their tools, but they don't exactly treat them with respect either, do they?" he says sympathetically to Mikhail and Nat both.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha's eyes give a subtle twinkle at Clint's response, any offense from the unintended reminder invisible and likely dismissed immediately for it's context.
    She lets Clint open the door, putting her back to the doorframe and peering past him subtly until Clint gives her her cue.
    "No. They certainly don't." Natasha says, affecting an almost wistful, sympathetic demeanor, and letting her Russian accent be heard as she steps into view, where she normally wrangles it into a neutral North American affectation. Mikhail may well not know who she is, but if he does... hopefully he gets the picture. "There's a reason we tend to run in this direction."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik snorts, "You are both right," the accent is not lost on him, "and come in. No sense in letting anyone else see." He sets the shotgun down as a sign of trust, "Though I do admit I prefer to see you two, though I grant I do know your names. Though I assume you have been read in on mine?" He sighs and leans up against the island. "Enough trouble out there. I admit I'm in bit of pinch, but I thank you for help."

Clint Barton has posed:
Cllint nods, "It's true, we do see a lot of you guys coming this way, for all sorts of reasons, freedom, money, better restaurants, but how about you, Mikhail? What's your reason for being here?" he asks the man before he does finally extends a hand. "I'm Clint by the way.

He lets Nat handle her introduction, that was the trickier subject.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    "Survival." Is another reason that Natasha volunteers. She draws closer, but doesn't offer her hand just yet, saying, "And my name is Natasha." She says, putting on a gentle smile. "We're here to help."

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
"You can call me Mik," he says as he shakes Clint's hand and nods to Natasha, "But yes, I am leaving because since I was young boy I have been tool of the Sovi... er Russian state. Sorry, still adjusting to that. Different name, same strategy and goals. Long story short, I have chance to leave and I take it to finally be free and be my own person instead of being thrown in to solve problems for government. My mother is long dead, no brothers or sisters, and no other blood family, so nothing to lose."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint nods to Nat's statement, "That too," he says before shaking Mik's hand. Afterwards he slips past the man to go check the windows and sight lines, double checking they weren't followed.

"I can understand that. So can Natasha, we've both been used like that by various people. organizations."

So far so good. Nobody lining up on them.

"So, did you just bring yourself or is this one of those I'll give you this intel if you give me a new life in America sort of deals."

He comes back to Mik and Nat. "Sorry, I know not the warmest welcome but we've had people burn us before, so we want to be sure we know what you're expecting."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha stays with Mikhail as Clint checks the angles - subtly, but *definitely* staying between him and the door, just in case - and nods, "I know what you mean." She says sympathetically, but offers no details. She has SOME memory of the Mutant policy back in the early days.
    "Or anything we need to know, to help you." She adds, trying to keep the atmosphere geared towards Mikhail's benefit, regardless of whether that's ENTIRELY true.
    It's still somewhat true!

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
"Very well," Mik says solemnly, "I have friend also leaving, but she has elected to go her own way on it, you likely know her as Crimson Dynamo. I am not here to make trade, but I wish to help and I will provide what I can in terms of intelligence. Though being without passport will be difficult, along with being stateless, but that can be dealt with."

Clint Barton has posed:
Whoa the Dynamo was leaving too? Bad day for Russia. That news alone was likely enough to get Mikhail into SHIELD's good graces. Good thing Tony had security clearance, Clint was going to need to tip him off about this too, to make sure he was ready for the fall out, he would no doubt get questions about it on the campaign trail.

"That's a pretty standard deal and it sounds like you've seen a lot to tell us about," he says before casting a look to Nat, an unspoken question, 'what do you think?'

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha is very tempted to reel, but only betrays some surprise at the mention of the Crimson Dynamo. No doubt Tony's going to have... opinions about that, but it's not really up to him.
    She meets Clint's look, holding it for a brief moment before giving an almost invisible nod, which is to say 'seems legit'.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
"I would rather you not spread so much about Crimson Dynamo leaving, she is good friend and I would rather not complicate things for her," Mik frowns, "Tony Stark is running for office? Great. That will cause problems. But yes, keep her safe." He walks over to a cabinet and pulls down a duffel bag, "My things. Fortunately I travel light, and barring needing to utilize my full capabilities, I should be set for a little while. Any other questions?"

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint catches Nat's return look and nods, done deal then.

"Yeah, he's running for President, so, that's going to be a fun time," he says of Dynamo's defection. "Don't worry, we won't blow her defection, end of the day doubt more than two other people hear about it." The Director and Tony because as much shit as Clint gives the guy, he actually did respect Tony, not that he would admit it.

"Then let's roll on out of here, get you set up somewhere safer, debrief you and get you started on your new life."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha gives Mikhail a friendly smile, keeping her face turned to Mikhail as her body begins to turn to leave the safehouse, telling him "You can ride shotgun."
    It's not just because she wants to be able to keep a gun at his back!
    Just in case!

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
"Very well, let me grab bottle," Mik ambles back over to the stairs to grab his bottle and burner phone, draining the former and tossing the other in his pocket before grabbing the shotgun, "Very well, hopefully you have large car. Taxi I took here was too small."

Clint Barton has posed:
There's a snerk from Clint at the shotgun line. "We brought an SUV, hopefully we've got enough leg room for you, big guy," h says, at 6'3" himself, he knows that pain.

Once Mik has the bottle, Clint leads the way out the door, letting Nat take up the rear, figuring if someone comes at them from the front, they won't see her until its too late.

"Anyhow, lets get going."