7433/A Maelstrom of a Honey Trap

A Maelstrom of a Honey Trap
Date of Scene:	18 August 2021
Location:	Washington, D.C. -- Charity Gala
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Peggy Carter, Dottie Underwood, Melinda May

---

Peggy Carter has posed:
While the Secretary of Defense has a rather lavish residence in Washington, for the gala, he's also secured a hotel room directly across the street. One of the Penthouse suites, being guarded by HYDRA security, somewhere he can bring people he wishes to entertain back to later. It took a bit of string pulling, but SHIELD has a room in the same hotel, several floors down. It's where May and Peggy have set up shop to keep on very well hidden comms with Dottie, be near if things go wrong, and maybe even invade the suite if things go right. But Dottie's really what matters now.

The night is almost ready to start. Peggy's pacing the floor, looking over Dottie in the dress she chose. It was lined with a few weapons -- namely a ceramic knife in the boning and fishing wire garrote in the trim -- a beautiful royal blue number with plunging cleavage and a high leg slit. "You know where all the weapons are, right? There's little releases in the seams..."

I almost feels like 70 years ago. But, unlike that time, Peggy did let Dottie dress herself this go around. Mostly. There was some fussing at fabric towards the end and careful zipping. "Just to make certain the cut of the dress lays right." Peggy muttered with the last zipper.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"Are you sure you don't want to do it for me, Peg?" Dottie teases. As the woman's hand leaves her body, she turns to observe Peggy's choice in the mirror. "One of your old numbers?" she asks. "It's your color."

She's pleased with the weapons. They're more than she was given the last time. And the dress is attractive. Well done, Chief Carter.

Melinda May has posed:
May isn't pacing. She's leaning. Specifically, she's leaning a hip against the desk upon which the communications equipment for the evening has been setup. As per usual, her arms are crossed lightly over her chest. Her eyes flick between the pair. There's a faint, definitely wry some on her face as she watches them interact. Moreso as she feels the flush of emotion coming off each of them.

Between the various layers of pleasure -- some sitting lower in her body than others, she can't help but notice -- the sense of predatory thrill and an artist's obsession, she's not sure she should thank Bobbi for the recent loosening of the blocks she'd built around her abilities. Indeed, she's deeply regretting the loss of her magical muting blade, as her mind turns away from the mission to memories she'd rather not get lost within.

She pushes off the desk and crosses to the small fridge in the suite. Crouching down, she pops it open briefly and surveys the contents. Yes, she's absolutely scoping out what's chilling for the minibar. Because they may need it later.

She may need it later.

Satisfied there are at least a handful of bottles worth expensing, she grabs a bottle of water to hide her purpose and rises, kicking the door lightly closed. It seals with a soft suctioning of air and a thump.

Returning to the desk, she twists the lid off the bottle, takes a deep swallow of water and sets the bottle down as she fires up the laptops. "Ready to test the comm?" she asks, her tone and demeanor all business.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"I would, but I'm not going to be the one peeling your dress off-" Then Peggy realizes just what verbal trap she's walked into and she smirks at Dottie, raising an eye brow. She steps back, looking over the whole picture once more, searching for any hitch in the fabric that might be a hint there is something other than dress in that dress. "How does it feel?" Then Peg's eyes just slightly flicker away, realizing they've lost May. She tilts her head in confusion until that bottle of water comes out, but there is a small brush of realization from her. May's probably getting a few too many old feelings of this strange rivalry. Peggy clears her throat, a hint of heat on her cheeks as she straightens her shoulders a bit more.

"As soon as the comms are tested, off you go. It won't do to end up going down in the same elevator as the man..." All business. Yes. Of course.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Dottie's expression becomes momentarily hungry when Peggy mentions peeling her out of her dress. She almost licks her lips, tongue peeking out to touch her upper teeth. Then she glances back to herself in the mirror, taking in her...assets. "I can work with this," she purrs.

When May and Peggy push to test coms she makes a moue of disappointment. She's been enjoying herself too much in the moment to want to move the next step. At least this time Peggy will probably let her kill someone. Eventually.

Melinda May has posed:
The problem with emotions, May has learned, is that they're always there. Even when people ignore them, sublimate them, or otherwise cover them up. Moreover, unless *everyone* is working to keep them under control... it doesn't much matter. The other thing May has learned, however, is that if she purposely ignores them herself, eventually they go away. Because the people having them go away.

She runs lightly through the comm test, counting off to ensure the signal is strong. "Testing, 1, 2, 3... Talk to me, Underwood." When Dottie responds, May glances to her briefly and back to the computer. "Yeah," she says to Peggy, "we're good. Time to party."

She reaches again for that bottle of water, her face neutral.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The pout from Dottie gets a solid eye roll from Peggy, the way one might an over eager child. "Working time, now. You know the mission. On with you." Peggy orders the woman in the blue dress. She then moves to set up station near the comms unit, no water yet herself. She's slipping headphones in and getting ready to overhear everything that might happen in the grand ballroom beyond.

The Top of the Hill Ballroom and Banquet center is one of the premier DC event spaces. Marble floor, columnades along the walls, amazing views of downtown, it'd be stunning if the interior decorator didn't go for 1960s Washington Chic and little has changed since then. Still, the decorators have done a lovely job and there is a tasteful memorial wall in the corner about the various refugees homes that have been lost and how much good has been done this year alone. Waiters in tuxedos float around with champange. Everyone is dressed to the nines. A string quartet's music hovers across the room.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Dottie makes a noise of disgust in her throat as she takes in the interior. "Capitalist decadence. No elegance at all," she murmurs, her critique audible to the women in the hotel room.

Her cover, Sophia Pretorius, a philanthropist from South Africa, a woman who has spent her life doing good to make up for her family's historic misdeeds, walks inside to mingle with the other wealthy guests who condescend to save small portions of the world with their hoarded riches. The identity passes muster. Or at least her name is on the guest list.

Melinda May has posed:
As the suite empties of at least half the emotional tension -- the more problematic half -- May exhales silently. Her shoulders settle into a slightly less stiff posture and she keys up the link into the hotel's security cams. She glances to Peggy, arches an eloquent brow, now that they're alone, but says nothing about it. There's still work to do. And it saves her having to mute the comm.

Down in the ballroom, Denver Maelstrom circulates among the guests, a sparkling glass of champagne in his hand. He's definitely in schmooze mode. Recent developments have made this opportunity to gladhand and polish his halo more important than it might otherwise have been. Fortunately, being able to blame the fiasco on Hale has sanded the edges off the worst of his rage and frustration. That makes it distinctly easier to play the altruist tonight.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The look Peggy gives Melinda back is a little abject. A smirk with slightly arched brows, as if to ask what she's SUPPOSED to do? 'It's a long story'. Peggy simply mouths, but it's not worth muting the comms yet. Then Peggy turns back towards the little cameras and settles into listening, "Yes, I was going to ask if it's as ugly as it's been for the last fifty years. I don't know that I'd call it decadent... But..." Peggy's breath catches a moment as she finally sees a glimpse of Denver on the comms.

"Your company is there. Northwest corner, moving through towards the center. Already with the champange."

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Dottie doesn't make a beeline for her target. Rather she acquires her own glass of champagne and inserts herself into a small cluster of people who are in the path of his trajectory. Better to make him come to her. Let him think himself the hunter, rather than the hunted. She laughs, warm and sparkling. It sounds strange and false as it echoes in May and Peggy's ears. But only because they know her.

They hear her schmoozing with other guests: introductions, recent charitable endeavors, brags of wealth. Her disgust disguised with a too bright smile and an easy condescension. Of course, she could kill anyone in the room, which helps her to condescend.

Melinda May has posed:
Denver continues to move through the crowd, stopping here and there to speak with various acquaintences. "Oh, yes," he says to one woman, an attractive blonde with a silver and black dress and too bright a smile, "it was quite the shock, what happened in New York. At least it was stopped." He's not quite willing to go so far as to say it was good SHIELD stopped it, but he can let people create their own assumptions. "Still, our focus tonight needs to be on the refugees, don't you think? There will be plenty of rebuilding in New York, I'm sure, but we are America. We take care of our own. And we take care of others whose countries simply can't or won't." Sounds like he's talking about putting kids into a foster system, more than alleviating the suffering of refugees. Such is the way of privilge. "We are the world's caretakers."

That Dottie is close enough to overhear him means her comm is also close enough to pick him up. Sitting up in that hotel room, May snirks softly, subvocalizing, "Prick."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peggy's left eye just slightly twitches as she hears the words over the comms. She swallows back, breathing through her nose, but says nothing. Still it's clear she heard.

The blonde stares at Denver with a little bit of surprise but she gives him a warm other laugh and a little bow of her head, "Yes, yes, of *course*, Denver. We always are... and that's why it's so good to see SHIELD back, right? Nice to see that we have help in doing what the world needs! It's a good night for everyone." She lifts her glass for a small toast.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Dottie allows a brief micro-expression of disgust at the blonde's subservient cheerleading to flicker across her eyes. Denver can absorb that small boost to his ego. "So gracious. To allow them to help. To make them feel useful," she says, raising her glass. "But we must guide the world in how best to care."

Melinda May has posed:
Denver gives the blonde a charming smile, tipping his glass lightly in response rather than giving a firm answer one way or the other. Instead, he turns toward Dottie, his head canting faintly. "I don't think we've met," he says, sidestepping the blonde SHIELD supporter to engage with the stunning creature in the blue dress. "Denver Maelstrom." He doesn't bother to give his title. There's no one here that doesn't know it. At least, he imagines that's so. Certainly there's no one here more powerful, politically and even militarily, than he.

May watches the pantomime play out on the cameras, one ear on the feed coming through Dottie's comms. She glances briefly to Peggy. Looks pretty much like showtime.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peggy's eyes perk up and her back straightens. She looks over at the cameras to see if they can get any good visual, but the sound is enough. She doesn't dare speak over the comms yet, not wanting to disturb Dottie's working. The other woman on the dance floor looks a little miffed she's lost his attention and goes for more champagne.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"Sophia Pretorius," Dottie introduces herself, the South African accent becomes slightly more pronounced with the utterance of the name. She too speaks with the assurance that her name should be recognizable. No simpering. Denver Maelstrom will want just enough of a challenge to feel as though he's won. Winning is the only thing that will make his prize worthwhile.

Melinda May has posed:
Denver hasn't heard of her, of course. But he won't reveal that. "Sophia," he says, his voice all familiar warmth and smooth charm. "Such a pleasure to finally meet you."

He does, in fact, have a very discrete comm buried deep inside his ear. Somewhere in this building, there are people who can feed him information about the people he meets. Which means, somewhere, there are people trying to discover more about Sophia Pretorius of South Africa. Fortunately, the cover SHIELD put in place is enough. For now.

"What brings you to Washington? Tonight's event alone? Or something more?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Well... the website they built about your charity work is getting a few hits, hopefully some of those planted news articles too. He must have people watching as well to light up the trail already." Peggy mutters, as she starts watchng the analytics on the web history they built for her. Thank goodness for SHIELD's tech, she could have never made this on her own. "Now, don't come on... too strong. Lay a few crumbs and leave him wondering. You have the whole night." Peggy cannot help but try and give a BIT of coaching. It's the way she's always been.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"Humanitarian aide is a passion," Dottie says, emphasizing the last word. Her expression freezes for a moment as Peggy's advice comes over coms. She can't bite back mid conversation, much as she would like to. So she finishes her champagne in a single swallow. "As delightful as this vintage is, I think I'd prefer something *stronger*. Care to join me?"

Melinda May has posed:
Dever inclines his head graciously, depositing his glass on the tray of a passing server, who glances to him briefly, removes the glass from among the fresh offerings to carry separately toward a clearing tray. "By all means," he smiles. "Lead on."

She's a beautiful woman and the rest evening is promising to be tedious here amidst Washington's elite, where the relief that SHIELD isn't the monster they feared it to be is disgustingly palpable. That makes Miss Pretorius all the more attractive. "When did you arrive in Washington?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
A little huff escapes Peggy's throat that Dottie might JUST catch the edge of before she manages to mute her end of the line and give May a little, annoyed glare. "She's done that just to piss me off, you know? If I hadn't said anything she'd have let him hang for a little while longer..." She sniffs again one short moment and then stands, stalking across the room to go get the whiskey bottle. They could both have a BIT while they listened to this nonsense.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Dottie does manage to catch that small sound of displeasure. And she glows with victory.

She orders a strong vodka tonic. And then turns back to Denver. "Just this week," She tells him. "But is my flight schedule really what you want to discuss?"

Melinda May has posed:
"I can't imagine why," May deadpans to Peggy, glancing at her sidelong. It's all she says, however, just letting the op play out. There's little more she can do, unless something happens to require them to actively extract the Russian operative.

Down at the bar, Denver gives an off-hand shrug. "Small talk," he says mildly. "Bad habit." He flashes a charming grin again. "One of those things you get used to in Washington."

Still his brow arches faintly. "Is there something else you'd care to discuss?" he smiles. "I know you are a great supporter of children's charities in your homeland. I would suppose an event like tonight would be right on brand for you."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Silently, Peggy pours out a finger of whiskey for both of them before she takes her seat back at the table and unmutes her level of the comms, hearing that last comment, "He definitely has you being monitored. It'll be the next few minutes we'll know if they see through the digital identity we set up for you. He might not reveal it at first so watch for microexpressions and if you think your cover is blown, get out of there." But so far, the feed he's getting is solid. There is a single comment from one of his handlers that she doesn't have much of an internet presence, but it is South Africa and she's 'small time' as philatropists go. Especially in the US.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"And so here I am," Dottie grins. "I think we both know how important appearances are."

She almost turns away to subvocalize a snarl in Peggy's direction. But manages instead to hold herself and Denver's gaze steadily. "And children are our future. What better way to provide a guiding hand."

Melinda May has posed:
There's also the reality that South African websites are notoriously unstable. Infrastructure in the country is spotty and most of the charities there don't have huge amounts of money to pour into them.

May takes the whiskey and silently raises her glass before taking a swallow. It burns on the way down and she smiles at that fact. "Wow," she says softly, her smile lingering. "You two really do like to poke at each other, don't you?" She no longer wonders about Dottie's obsession. And she doesn't care if the Russian hears her.

"I couldn't agree more," Denver says to 'Sophia'. He orders himself a scotch, neat, and turns to look out at the rest of the gathering. "Children are certainly the future." He takes a sip of his scotch and sets it down. His tone is warm, but hollow. Already, his eyes are starting to scan the rest of the gathering, noting important faces, separating the ones that matter from the ones that don't. In the grand scheme of things, the woman beside him falls into the latter category, as far as he can see. She's pretty enough, to be sure. And the accent is charming. As is the flirtation. His handlers, however, are murmuring new pieces of information into his ear and he's not particularly certain the woman is worth more than a momentary distraction.

Peggy Carter has posed:
While May can't intercept Dottie's feelings about the children, that poke got through to Peggy. The woman can feel the momentary, sharp mix of grief and odd shame that wells in Peggy's throat as she swallows hard at the whiskey she just poured herself. She lets it burn down and pours another half finger. She won't get drunk on the job, she's better than that, but Dottie definitely just shoved a finger into a still open wound. She mutes the comm for a moment, "We... spent a long time keeping each other on our toes. It has it's upsides and it's downsides." She swallows back another bit of whiskey.

In the room, two more cabinet members step in Denver's direction. One of them gives 'Sophia' a good up and down and a curious lift of a brow to Denver, but he seems far more interested in business. "Secretary! I wondered where you were off to. We were just about to have a round of toasts, General Talbot is over there and feeling particularly... Celebratory. Join us, old man!" He teases, being that Denver is definitely in the younger generation of Washington still. Sophia? She is nothing but pretty arm candy, to be ignored unless she becomes a wife. And the greeted and ignored.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"Then I can count on you for your support, Denver," Dottie says. It isn't a question. And it isn't meant to pull him back into her circle of company. It's just a snippet to bait him, to bait all of them. They should underestimate her. It's the advantage she finds most comfortable.

Melinda May has posed:
May arches a brow faintly at Peggy's assertion. "I have no doubt," she replies mildly, setting her glass down and returning her attention to the laptop. She doesn't say more than that, however. She doesn't need to.

Denver rises as the men approach. "This is Sophia," he tells them, at least doing the pretty lady the courtesy of an introduction. "She's come all the way from South Africa, tonight." He turns toward Dottie. "Would you like to meet General Talbot, my dear?" he asks, expecting she'll either demure or simper along beside him. Either will suit him fine. "He's now in charge of SHIELD in the US. That way we have someone who will keep them from going rogue again." Because that's totally how he'll spin it. A faction of SHIELD went rogue. And it's Talbot's job to stop that from happening.

And take the fall when he can't.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The other Cabinet member, Carlo Latterly, now gives Sophia a bit more of an up and down, "Charmed." He half barks out. He's very loud. Then he's looking back in Denver's direction and laughs a bit more, shaking his head thoroughly, "Don't let Talbot hear you say that. The way he put it, he's cleaned out the whole place and saved the whole damn world. Wasn't SHIELD at all, but some other group. He's brought back our 'greatest SHIELD', as he tells it. He's drunk. Come on. The faster we have this drink and eat something, the faster we can get out of here." And he tries to coax Denver over to the other group of men. Dinner will be served shortly. Speeches. The worst part of the night.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Raising an eyebrow, Dottie links her arm in Denver Maelstrom's. "This will be entertaining," she barely breathes the words.

Time to fawn. The simpering arm candy in the circle of powerful men is still standing in that circle, and privy to everything they say. "I'd be delighted," she says with a winning smile.

Melinda May has posed:
Denver gives the woman a charming smile and extends his elbow to her, expecting her to take it. They cross the room with the rest of his cronies, the man chuckling dryly at the commentary on Talbot. "There'll be no rushing dinner," he tells them, one hand covering Dottie's as they walk twoard the inebriated General. "But the entertainment should be fun."

Seems that's just Talbot's lot in life.

"Glenn," he says, extending a hand as they near. "So glad you could make it, tonight. You look well." For a drunk. Not that Denver will say it. Especially while the man is in uniform.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Talbot doesn't quite have the same booming laugh the other man does, but he is in good moods. He looks Denver up and down and smacks his shoulder before giving his hand a good shake. Then 'Sophia' is looked at. She gets a double take. There is something itching in the back of his head about her, but he shakes it off a moment later, "Denver, good to see you! Round of shots for making the world a slightly better place, for those displaced AND making certain more don't lose their homes! Come on now... Get Denver's girl one as well, whatever she likes!" The man has made assumptions. Sophia's given a bit more of a smile and then he's turning away to help pass out the drinks.

"Oh hell, Talbot's there too? Thank god it's not one of us in there, the whole thing would be shot in a moment. Hopefully she can get through dinner." Peggy mutters, going back to watching the screen. "This is not near so interesting as Talbot TV used to be." She mutters to May, before unmuting again.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Dottie keeps a hand lightly on Denver's arm, almost possessive. After all, he's the reason she's in such exhaled company -- and everyone knows it. He's her pass key.

But only almost possessive. The rooster can't know that the hen he is courting is a fox in disguise. "A paragon of the American Military Force," she murmurs of Talbot. Still, she won't say no to a drink.

Melinda May has posed:
May snirks softly at Peggy's commentary on the moustache cam. "But it's a whole lot easier on the eyes," she notes dryly. "Seriously. That man has nosehairs the width of telephone wires." She'll take the radio play, instead.

Drinks are delivered to the group, one given to 'Sophia'. Denver gives Glenn a tolerant smile. "I was just telling Sophia here how you single-handedly saved us from the scourge of HYDRA." Yep. He's winding the man up. Why not? It'll take the conversation pressure off of him. As pissed as he is at Hale's failure, this misdirection will serve him well...

Peggy Carter has posed:
Talbot gives Dottie a sideways look as he catches some of her mutter, like he's trying to figure out if he's being mocked or not. "You... you look familiar, young lady. Did you used to serve?" He finally dares ask, while waiting for all their drinks. He's got a 24 year aged single malt, of course, and the same for Denver. Dottie is given another glass of champagne, like a proper lady who should be takling with all the other wives. Then he's being talked up and he coughs out a bit of a proud laugh, "Well, no, no, now, Denver, it wasn't single handed. I had a lot of good men and women at my back cleaning out this problem of HYDRA. And the fight isn't over, you know? Not until we've gotten every head! But we're on the winning side of this war, now..." And before he can go on, someone at the podium is clearing her throat for dinner and speeches. Talbot rolls his eyes. "Ask me about it after if you want the story." He winks at both of them and winds his way through the crowd to his head table.

Peggy's scoffing laughter can be heard over the comm, "Good men and women my arse. Is that what he thinks we are? Nameless faces in a crowd to support his ego?"

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"No, but I see you are a humanitarian General. And a generous man Perhaps you have seen me at another function such as this one," Dottie says with a charming smile. And she takes a sip of her champagne. It's *acceptable*.

"I know he must be useful, but how does anyone stand him?" Dottie wonders, barely audibly. But Denver could catch the words if he were paying particular attention. "Oh! Dinner. And I doubt I'm lucky enough to be seated with you," she pouts playfully, and at a more regular volume. "Try not to forget me."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Unless Denver asks for something special, no, they won't get to sit together. He could rearrange it, but she might not have secured his interest that much yet. Either way, the speeches are boring. Much of what you'd expect from a lot of people who like to look good helping the little people. One or two impassioned human interest speakers, but mainly a lot of glad handing, promoting the silent auction, talking about American's rich, diverse future, and how much we should use our riches to help others. There is a lot of applause. It's things that have been said million times before.

At least the food is good. They got decent chefs and the price of the plate almost covers it. And the champange keeps coming.

Melinda May has posed:
The dinner progresses as these things do. There's a keynote speaker, a lot of self-congratulations and self-agrandizing from various politicos. There's more schmoozing and dancing -- a thousand fakes smiles, more than one drink to soak up the tedium.

By the time Maelstrom is ready to make his excuses and escape the crowd, Dottie has managed to worm her way into... well, if not his confidence, certainly his libido. It's not like he has a wife to worry about, after all.

"Care for a nightcap?" he asks the 'South African', her arm tucked in his as they walk away from the ballroom. His hand covers hers. "I think I'm done with this scene."

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"I thought you'd never ask," Dottie says sweetly, her tone managing to hint at both an eagerness for his invitation and her own disgust at the opulent display of wealth spent to celebrate the attendants' magnanimous charity. She squeezes his arm gently, letting her body move close enough to his that he can feel the inviting warmth of her, but not close enough to touch. Not yet.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The ball itself is starting to slowly filter out. There's a few people staying, taking advantage of the bar, and one of those people includes Talbot. But he's surrounded by a group of his old boys and only his laugh is barking enough to make it clear just how long he's been here and how much he's drunk. But the band is closing up, instruments in cases, and it's no longer impolite to leave so many are making for the exits.

In the van, Peggy tenses just a bit more. Here's the pay off, if Dottie gets past his defenses or not... She gives May a little motion and mouths, 'I think she's in...'

Melinda May has posed:
May gives Peggy a small nod. Sounds like Dottie's hooked him, now. That's a good thing. However, she's under no illusion what will happen to Maelstrom, once Dottie is done. Somehow, she can't summon up enough concern to care.

Man has it coming.

Meanwhile, however, Maelstrom gives Dottie an indulgent smile. He leads her through the corridors to the exit where her limo awaits. Security ghosts them, of course. Both of them are quite cognizant of that. In time, however, they're in the limo and heading for the small penthouse he is using while he's in the city.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Dottie lets him tell her things. Lets him boast. Lets him touch her so long as it keeps him talking. She slowly lets the mask of 'goodness' drop, just a little. Highlights the arrogance wealth breeds in an attempt to make him easy. Helps him drop his mask too. Shows him how attractive his power is.

Peggy Carter has posed:
In the listening van, Peggy is dead quiet now. She's trying to get every bit and scrap of their conversation, just in case the man lets something slip. But, even if he doesn't, hopefully he'll sleep and Dottie can get information from the inside. "Ah... good luck, Dottie. If you need us to mute mikes a few minutes, just... Warn us." As much as Peggy doesn't really trust the woman, she also seems to have no need to hear her screwing a man just for some information.

Melinda May has posed:
May snirks softly, away from the mic, at Peggy's comment to Dottie. No argument from her. Besides, this isn't like it once was with Dottie... right? They actually have her working with them willingly. Theoretically.

Regardless, Denver is perfectly willing, now he has enough alcohol in him, to indulge some of Dottie's questions. And to take full advantage of whatever enticements she offers.

That said, he's not quite so fool as to speak openly about HYDRA. However... Surely Dottie has the right band of lipstick to make looking elsewhere for the information that much easier. His biometrics are easily available. So is his technology.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Dottie laughs a soft throaty laugh at Peggy's offer. "Oh, Denver," she murmurs, gasping just a little, "I can see you're not shy either."

***

Once she's been escorted up to the penthouse, however, Dottie doesn't spare much time for Denver's desires. He may be bigger, but she's stronger, and better at manipulations, both physical and mental. He's right where she wants him. After a kiss, one that's uncomfortably long to listen to over coms, the man is unconscious on the bed. "Sweet Dreams," she whispers in his ear.

Then not much louder, she addresses the women who've been in her ear all night. "Okay. We're in. What am I looking for?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
"That brand never goes bad, does it?" Peggy chrips over the comm unit, a little relieved the kiss is done but also recognizing all too well what happened there. She's both amused and warmed by it. Some tools just never go out of use. Peggy then gives a little breath through her nose, considering what could be in there, "I'm still not... great with computers. Melinda might know better. But anything that will tell us where other HYDRA operatives still are. Meeting notes, calendars, if you can get into and copy his whole hard drive we'll have hit bank. If he's out a while... Private rooms? Any other stashes he has?"

Melinda May has posed:
Yeah. 'Sweet Dreams' isn't a brand Melinda has ever tried. She's okay with that. She's found 'Knockout Punch' a far more reliable way to deal with her opponents. She checks information on her laptop. "We know he's HYDRA. We need to find out how deep it goes. None of that will be out in the open." There's no guarantee there's even anything in this particular location for it. "There's got to be a communications server link somewhere. If we can get a reliable contact list, that will tell us how wide the spread goes." A beat. "Of course, if he *is* arrogant enough to keep more sensitive documents around, let's not overlook that."

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"Don't worry about him," Dottie laughs. "I've got plenty of ways to keep him occupied...and contained."

Before tossing the room, she strips the Secretary of Defense and ties him to the bed with his own silk ties. Unless he's very lucky or very clever, Denver won't survive the night. Once she no longer needs him, she can stage his death to look like an assignation gone wrong. No one will be surprised.

She begins a thorough search of the room, slowly, methodically. She doesn't expect to be disturbed. Aside from the reach of HYDRA within the government, Dottie has a little extra information she wants personally. Someone had activated a sleeper agent within SHIELD and orchestrated an attack on Peggy Carter. And Dottie intends to find out who. The identity, once discovered, is not something she plans on sharing with the group.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The penthouse is a lot. There's at least two offices, sitting rooms, so many drawers. Using the unconscious man's hand, Dottie can get into his laptop with his fingert and do a mirroring copy of it while she's searching for other things. It's hard to tell what would be important. But possibly she can leave a plant inside the place, some bug on his computer, to intercept HYDRA conversations when they come in. If not just the computer, then definitely the desk and a few other places. She has run of the penthouse for a few hours and probably a bit of hidden tech somehere in that dress.

"Underwood, I'm clocking you at 45 minutes unconscious. While that particular brand normally lasts longer, you're getting to the point where he might wake up if he's particularly tough or has other stimulants in his system. Be done with him soon, one way or another." Peggy warns across the comms, having been keeping a careful, worried eye on the time as Dottie worked.

Melinda May has posed:
May keeps her eyes on the perimeter, through the feeds on her laptop. Long minutes pass. She remains silent. When Peggy counts off the time, she stows her laptop and starts to move forward. "Heading to the extration point," she tells both of them, sliding behind the wheel of the van. "Be there in 10."

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"Awwww you're no fun," Dottie pouts. The two agents impatience is the SecDef's good luck. He'll survive. She leaves him able to free himself if he wants to work to avoid the embarrassment, scene set enough that he can piece together the events of a very enjoyable evening. She bends down and scribbles a phone number on a piece of paper. And places it on the bedside table, signed with a lipstick kiss.

Then wearing a very satisfied grin, she makes her way to the extraction point. She'll still need him, need all of them, until she can find what she's looking for.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Until the moment that they see Dottie Underwood coming around the corner to the extraction point, Peggy isn't entirely convinced she's going to come. Yes, things had changed, but had they changed *that much*? Melinda is probably sharp enough to see the change in Peg's body language, a sublte flood of relief, as she slides the van door open and offers Dottie a hand to assist her back into the van as quick as possible so they can take off before they are seen.

"Well, that was excellent for a night's work. Did you manage to plant all the bugs?" Peggy asks, right back down to business.

Melinda May has posed:
"Let's hope she did," May says quietly, pulling away from the curb when Dottie is safely in. Time to get them all somewhere safe for the recovery and debrief. She doesn't trust that HYDRA won't figure out this game before too long and come back to try to bite them on the ass.

Then again, what else is new?

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"Peg, what do you take me for?" Dottie asks, mock offense hiding the edge of her wounded pride. "I could have kept him there for hours."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A deep smirk cuts across Peggy's lips as she stares at the woman, "You *could* have, yes, but there was a mission. If you've got the bugs down and a copy of his laptop, that was more than enough work for one night. But... Good job. It was nice... well... It felt like old times. Other than you coming back here. That's a pleasant surprise." Peg's grin warms a bit more and she sinks to the side against the back of May's seat as they travel back along towards the Playground. Debrief there and sleep. It was awful late.