Owner	Pose
Melinda May	This is not what she expected. May sits in a dark SUV, the most surprising partner to her right: Dottie Underwood. However, it's not like she'd have been remotely comfortable bringing Peggy along, given Peggy's current condition. She could have pulled Daniel, one might suppose, or even Bobbi or Daisy. But... Somehow Dottie seems the right choice. Call it a gut feeling. That, and a weird, not-quite-deja-vu, pseudo-memory based on her time in the Framework. In that digital hellscape, Dottie was a good agent -- for both HYDRA *and* SHIELD. But, most particularly for SHIELD. Eyes-wide-open, Dottie made her choices and threw her lot in with SHIELD, her work with HYDRA that of a double-agent. This pseudo-memory, combined with their recent... bonding moment has led May to believe that it's time to stop treating Dottie with kid gloves and just give her assignments and let the results speak for themselves. So. Here they are. A long transport truck sits outside the dockside warehouse. It's driven by members of a Neo-Nazi organized crime ring known as the Brotherhood of Liberty. That's bad enough. But the cargo aboard, suspected to be a weapon, is being delivered to the Triad. The idea that a white supremacist organization would deal willingly with an Asian 'business association' is as absurd as it seems. And yet... here it is, playing out right in front of them. Their mission is simple. Get in, see what the hell is going on, find out what the weapon is and, if possible, divert, capture or destroy it. It'll be a challenge. There's half-a-dozen Liberty men, and another six or eight Triad men -- including Deng Xiao, one of the Triad's top lieutenants. And, really... there are no other women on site. But, hell. May's seen worse. She's pretty sure Dottie has, too. She glances to Dottie, releasing her seatbelt and checking her ICER. "Ready?" It's not really a question. "Let's go."
Dottie Underwood	Dottie grins. She likes those odds. Those odds means that she?ll almost certainly finally get the chance to let loose. To do what she was made to do. She nods to May and slides out of the car.
Melinda May	The pair make their way across the street, sliding easily into the warehouse and easing their way inside. There is conversation in the distance, voice raised -- not quite in dispute, but perhaps in challenge. May glances briefly to Dottie and finds a way through the aisles created by skids stacked high in the loading bay so they can get a better look.
Dottie Underwood	Height always provides a better vantage point. And the skids are relatively stable. So quietly, and with little fuss, Dottie scales the makeshift ?wall? to perch atop the pallets.
Melinda May	As Dottie ascends higher, May slides along and crouches low. From either perspective, it's clear the two groups are experiencing at least a little tension. Between them are three large boxes. They look like gig boxes -- black, textured sides with chrome corner guards and heavy latches and hinges where the lid attaches. They're perfect cubes, probably about 24" to 28" on each side. One of the boxes sits open, apparently empty. This, obviously, has upset the Triad and put the Liberty men on the defensive.
Dottie Underwood	Maybe, Dottie thinks, both groups will take each other out and she and May can abscond with the (possibly empty) cases. That would be no fun at all. She *could* cause a scene, distract them all, let May get the intel. That sounds like fun. Dottie weighs her options as she watches the men square up.
Melinda May	"Look, you fuckin'--" The Liberty's leader spits an expletive in one of the Asian men's faces. "We weren't contracted to look in the damned boxes and make sure the cargo was there. We were contracted to deliver you three fuckin' boxes. Not our fault if they're not 'as ordered'. You don't like 'em, you can heft 'em outta here. They weigh a fuckton each and my boys and I are done. We did our job. We delivered. Now where's our money?" The Asian man's eyes narrow and his nostrils flare with distaste. "You were contracted by AIM," he says tersely. "You want your money? You ask them for it. This isn't what they promised us. So, we're not paying for it." It's quite probable Dottie won't have to start anything, because the two groups look perfectly willing to do it themselves. Indeed, Liberty boy looks just about ready to pull the gun from his shoulder holster when an ungodly shriek escapes the throat of one of the Triad flunkies who first opened the boxes. Gibbering in terror, he pulls his own weapon and starts firing randomly at the man closest to him -- one of his own people. "Aw, hell," May murmurs softly. "We're gonna need backup..." Not that they won't have fun in the meantime.
Dottie Underwood	Dottie swallows a soft sigh of disappointment as the thugs square up with no provocation. But then, as the boy loses his nerve and chaos erupts, she grins. From where she lays flat atop her perch, the erstwhile Widow takes careful aim and fires indescriminantly into the gangs as they scatter for cover.
Melinda May	Dottie's shots do nothing but add to the confusion -- and probably the deathtoll. Which, of course, will make the proto-widow happy. May? Well... let's just say she's unsurprised. For her part, May waits until one of the Triad comes close enough for her to grab him, spin him around, and slam him into a pile of crates. "Hi. So. What's *supposed* to be in the box?" "What the hell? Where did you--" May fires an ICER into his leg and he drops before he can say much more. "Nevermind. We'll figure it out."
Dottie Underwood	<<You could put him in the empty box,>> Dottie suggests over coms. The implication, of course, is that they need to procure one. And with that, she holsters her weapon and flips her body into the center of the room. No regard for the projectiles flying past her.
Melinda May	"<<The man said it's heavy,>>" May replies, keeping low, but moving to converge on Dottie's trajectory. "<<No sense adding to the load.>>" Actually, the man said it 'weighs a fuckton', which is an awful lot for an empty gig case. Her weapon remains in her hands, and she takes careful shots when she can, quick ones from the hip when she can't. It doesn't take long for both the white supremacists and the Asian mob to realize they're not just fighting each other. "We've got company!" one man yells, right before May's ICER round takes him out. "SHIELD!" yells someone else, recognizing the blue flash. Things start to get messier after that.
Dottie Underwood	Weight means momemtum. Dottie kicks the open box, sending it skidding across the floor. It slams into one of the Liberty boys who?d been aiming a pistol in May?s direction. He stumbles backward, falling partially inside. The lid slams down. Only his body keeps it from closing. The screams are almost immediate. Loud bellows rising in pitch. He thrashes and writhes. Dottie smiles. And then ducks her head, narrowly avoiding an incoming blow. Soon both Triad and Liberty boys converge on her slim form. But they seem to be more interested in killing each other.
Melinda May	The man who falls into the case, strangely, doesn't so much fall *into* it as he does fall against it. The lid bounces off his body, but he seems to be held up by *something* inside, even if it can't be seen. But his agony is real. He falls from the box, clawing at his face and eyes, leaving deep gouges with broken, blunted nails. May ducks under another attacker, coming up to use her gun like a rock in her hand to smash a man's jaw. She tosses her gun straight up, the ICER spinning barrel over handle. As it flies upward, she sweeps the man's legs, spins around to put an elbow into his throat and slams his nose into her knee. She then reaches up to catch her ICER as it falls back down, turns, and fires two shots at another man. They're running out of attackers. And, indeed, there are other men, now, who are starting to show signs of delusion and psychosis. May's ICER takes care of them, without killing them. But they're definitely going to need another SHIELD team in here.
Dottie Underwood	A man runs blindly towards Dottie, his face a mask of red gore. She casually sticks out a foot to trip him and he goes sprawling to the floor. He writhes in agony, curling into a fetal ball. Drawing her ICER, Dottie fires and he goes still. In quick succession, she shoots three more men as they stumble at her like extras from a bad zombie film.
Melinda May	When the last of the men collapse, May glances to Dottie and then moves cautiously toward the open box. It's not that she's expecting something to suddenly jump out at her and do something -- anything, really. It's more that she can tell something *weird* is going on. Her eyes have a faintly wild, almost paranoid widening to them, her brows beetled slightly. But it's a feeling that she's reflecting from those around them -- unconscious though many of them are. "They were terrified," she tells Dottie, pausing to kneel briefly beside the man who fell into the box. She brushes some hair out of his face -- though she can't really say why. Checking his pulse, even though he's unconscious, she can tell it's racing. "They *are* terrified. Even now." That's a little freaky. She taps her com to widen the frequency. "<<This is May. I need a containment team and clean-up crew STAT. Also, a perimeter deployment. I think we're dealing with some 084s, here.>>"