7081/Bullet Conference

Bullet Conference
Date of Scene:	26 July 2021
Location:	Ellerby Building, Midtown
Synopsis:	Jessica Drew and her team of SHIELD operatives are set to crash a deal between particularly unlovely people and high-tech arms dealers -- but she's not the only ones on hand to try and put down this little soiree!
Cast of Characters:	Michael Erickson, Jessica Drew

---

Michael Erickson has posed:
    There are aliens coming in from the edge of the solar system. But now, here, in an office building on Fifth Avenue, an assemblage of curious and largely anonymous individuals are gathering in a conference room midway up on the thirtieth floor. Rented space, just for the day, not that anyone would realize that from the decor; everything rented, catered. Made out as if a multinational were working there - it's all window dressing, of course, but appearances must be tended to.

    And there, in the room, two groups of people gather. Italian suits, or at leat European. Refined on one side, quiet, militaristic on the other. And there, looking over the whole situation with a small group of men in glasses and earpieces and their own sleek suits is Michael. Keeping the peace.

    He doesn't want to be here. The refined ones, Serbian, but it's just a facade. The Germans are much more obvious with their military background, but they're not the savages here. If he could, Michael would kill everyone in the room, use the nerve-stapler he has under the tile in his apartment. Make them feel it before they finally died. It's what they deserve. But no. No, today he stands by the door, hands behind his back, machine pistol tucked into his jacket like the other men in his detail. Subsonic rounds, slow enough to be quiet, or penetrate walls and damage other people. Heavy though to kill anyone in the room with a couple hits. They all have their targets, his men.

    He keeps his eyes out as they talk. Listening. Names. Faces. The Germans are Tannhauser men, and the deal that slowly unfolds over tea and civil faces stretched over their monstrous cores is valued in the millions. More advanced magnetic weapons tech. Well. Advanced for Earth.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Finger to her throat mic, Jessica sub-vocalizes to her team. "I have ears and eyes on the room."

She points a parabolic mic at the office door, not that she needs it but the rest of team as well as the command center coordinating the agents does. Their targets are not amateurs. The rented room with its chic furniture was swept for bugs but the optical lines snaked through the ceiling have only been in place for an hour. SHIELD has rented the floor above and below the meeting going on. They want to close down the group importing weapons in a very bad way. If they sweep another criminal organization into the raid during the process then all the better.

"Alright, it looks like they have all arrived. We will be moving in, in sixty seconds from my mark." Jess looks at the man next to her and nods. He returns it, hefting his P-90 loaded with ICER rounds higher. All the agents getting ready to assault the meeting room wear black tactical gear from head to toe, especially reinforced armor against the live ammunition that they will be facing.

"Mark!"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Of course, Michael has more than just a nice suit on; his outward appearance all a holographic facade, he sweeps the room, the halls beyond. Penta-vision active, thermo, x-ray and more engaged, he sees the optical lines, the bodies coming. Or will, at least before they bust in. But he doesn't say anything. If the police are coming - or the government - he's got all the data he can gather on these people. Happily hand it over. Worst comes to worst, those small arms won't be affecting him in his battle armor.

    In the meantime, the deal is being negotiated. In German, nothing he knows. Shame it wasn't French. Or Spanish. Michael keeps his hand next to the pistol on his ribs, and the wide-field microwave blaster tucked in the small of his back. Sunburn gun, make everyone very unhappy. But not yet. Not yet.

    Well, well. Here comes the fuzz.

Jessica Drew has posed:
On Jessica's mark three teams move at once - one in the stairwell, one blocking the entrance to the elevator. They had checked the shafts. One coming in from the opposite side of the hall. The only way out would be the windows. Across the street a special team of sharp-shooters keeps an eye out on the front and back of the buildings. Drones fly over the roof. SHIELD has put a lot of manpower on this bust.

Jess is behind the two men with the battering ram. Her spider-sense is ramped to the max, telling her what all the agents know without mutant powers - bullets would be flying any moment.

Four shots take down the guards posted outside the room. Quick and quiet. Luck was on SHIELD'S side for the moment. The guards fell before a warning could be radioed. What they had not counted on was the dead man's button that one of them released as he fell unconscious. Before the men with the battering ram take their first swing the intruder alert has gone out.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    The amount is agreed upon. Twelve million dollars in US currency. Wired, naturally, nobody's crass enough to bring cash. Cayman Islands, Cypress, wherever. Doesn't really matter, they're not going to sell it. Because instead, Michael draws his pistol while everyone's arguing about cash, and holds it out upon the fine gentlemen sitting at the table. As do the other fellows sitting here, guns out. It isn't the first plan he had, but it was the agreed-upon strategy that he and his team had set up for just this situation: the cops show up, they hold them for arrest. These fine gentlemen he'd hired, they're not mercenaries. Well, they /are/, but not in the way many would likely come to expect: they aren't here to deal with these people. Not cleanly. Honestly. They're here to collect evidence. And suddenly, there's a collection of suspects, too.

    "Gentlemen," bellows Michael now, loud enough to be heard through the door - no, not Michael, the voice used here is that of the Shi'ar officer he was upon the trackless wastes of Thalsan, the lava fields of Dr'kaa'ri. Uttering the doom of 'lesser' races, soon to be brought into line beneath the banner of the Empire. "You will now raise your hands and give yourselves over into custody. The police have been called. Do not brave me; my men and I will not kill you, but if you attempt to escape, my men and I are not opposed to kneecapping."

    It's like someone turned the channel on a television during the World Cup. Heads swivel, confused, into the muzzles of six machine pistols trained upon them, the suppressors on the ends seemingly large enough to fit a fist through from their points of view. Impending ventilation does strange things to perception.

    Michael glances up behind his hidden visor, sees the battering ram swinging forth. "HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEADS! NOW!"

Jessica Drew has posed:
The SHIELD agents are practiced at opening doors. One swing suffices to burst the double doors open. The agent tasked with holding the parabolic mic and those in the command center are as puzzled as Agent Drew is as they burst into a room with guns facing away from them, targeting the men seated around the table and their bodyguards.

Jessica's super hearing had heard the command for the men to raise their hands in a voice that was strangely familiar. The rest of the action had unfolded before she could pinpoint where she knew it from.

Echoing the command given by the stentorian voice, "Hand behind your heads!" Jessica leads eight SHIELD agents into the room. They fan out, weapons bristling like the spines on a porcupine pointed at everyone bearing a weapon.

"Drop your weapons now. I want to see them in plain sight," Jessica commands, gesturing to...her mouth drops open. She covers her shock, frowning, "You've got some explaining to do once we get them buttoned up." She gestures with her off-hand to Michael.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Well, Michael is nothing if not efficient; as the cops boil in he nods to his fellows, and as one they lower their guns, dropping them away so that the nice people in tactical gear can kick them away and not, you know, shoot them. He didn't see /her/ coming, of course, and as the Serbians and their Tannhauser opposites are being shackled in their confusion (lots of angry words employed) Michael keeps his hands up, nodding once to Jessica as she fires off at him.

    "I expect that I do," he replies, tone calm in the face of all the guns waving about. "My boys outside okay?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
The SHIELD agents deploy themselves around the room, removing guns, vigilant to the slightest movement on the part of the Serbians and the would-be arms sellers. Out in the hallway, agents move in with stretchers, already moving the first of the unconscious guards out of the way.

Inside the room, beginning with the two that look like the bosses, SHIELD agents begin to zip tie both the Serbians and the Germans.

The man Jessica identified as the German boss, cooly tells her, "You will regret this, Fraulein."

"Perhaps, I will. But not today." With a nod to the agent helping him to his feet, she watches him removed from the room. An agent moves toward Michael under the watchful eye of another. Jessica gestures to stop him, "Leave him. He's mine."

One by one the room is emptied. Over coms, the field agent checks in, "We are cleared. Send in forensics. There is one left. He is under my guard. We are on our way now."

The bank of elevators are busy, as are the drones on the rooftop, ready for either the Serbians or the Germans to send in counter measures to protect their own. With a curiously gallant gesture, Jessica motions Michael toward the hallway, saying, "This had better be good."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Be /silent/." The Imperial in him still hovers there for a moment longer before fading, his words arch and patrician as they are snapped at the Tannhauser boss - and not without command, though Jessica has already proclaimed his doom. Soon his men are out moving with the SHIELD team, and Michael is left with Jessica. Walking along with her, as directed, hands tucked behind his back. Feeling the bulk of the sunburn gun resting against the small of his back, invisible to most scanners. Just in case.

    "Tannhauser are bad guys," he offers, shrugging very slightly. "Their clients are usually worse. I've been collecting information on them, but when reaching out to federal organizations I've gotten...well. The feds normally think they know better." Another shrug. "So, my team and I decided we would put an end to things here in the city. We were going to drop these fellows right at One Police Plaza if we had to. What's the term?" He pauses a moment. "Citizen's arrest."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Thinking furiously, Jessica walks by Michael's side. "Your security company was going to make a Citizen's Arrest," she asks incredulously. "We have had Tannhauser under our sights. The Serbians are a bonus. The Germans have been busy bees. And, so," she fixes him with a narrow-eyed frown, "have you been. What do you have behind your back? Put your hands in front of you." Jessica has a zip cuffs ready in her hand.

"You know that you will be interrogated, don't you? I hope for your sake that this so-called citizen's arrest was not a bid on your part to get out of taking the wrap. Were you working for the Serbians or the Germans?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I don't have anything behind my back." His hands come back out, and he chuckles. "And what have I done wrong? We were hired to oversee a transaction -- I didn't know the sellers were Tannhauser until we got here, but it made sense to shut down a crime in progress once detected." Heavy brows arch. "Should we have let them sell these weapons and let you know later?"

    

Jessica Drew has posed:
"I didn't know you were such a smart ass," she retorts with a shake of her head. There is a road block at the elevators as agents wait to take the Germans and Serbians down, two by two, wary of placing the SHIELD agents in danger. She stops Michael short, nodding for the others to carry on.

"The more you tell me, the more I can vouch for you." Jessica shrugs at Michael and smiles disarmingly, "I hope to hell your company and your nose are cleaner than a sterile room's floor. Otherwise you will be sharing prison time with some of the ones we got today. The Serbians have a bad rep in prisons from what I understand. Has your company made citizen's arrests before?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I told you that my clients were normally on the right side of the law," Michael replies, pausing as he waits for the SHIELD agents to ferry the criminals into the elevator. "That is absolutely true. I'd been hearing about the Tannhauser group, about an influx of high-tech arms coming into the city. Dropped tips to the Feds, nothing happened. I imagine that this was due to..." He peers at her. ".../SHIELD/ being involved. Not that you would know anything about being in trouble. A creature of innocence and purity, certainly."

    He looks back to the elevator doors. "We acted because nobody else was. I have information collated that would be of use - but as far as I know, my lads and I broke no law." His lips purse. "At least nothing worth prosecuting us for. If you intend to charge us, Agent, you can expect staunch resistance from my legal team. Otherwise I'll be pleased to give you everything I have. I imagine the latter would be much more beneficial to the both of us."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica doesn't react to his probing about SHIELD's recent troubles. How he knows of SHIELD's recent problems is another mystery about the man. "It's above my pay grade," Jessica replies cooly with a lift of one shoulder. "Get your lawyers for what good it will do you. Tell the truth and you will be dealt with fairly. That I know."

One of the three elevators opens in front of them. "Get in."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I have no doubt," he agrees as he steps into the elevator now, at once stony of face and oddly pleasant of demeanor. Gets into the cab. "By the by, how are you?"