Owner Pose
Monet St. Croix S.H.I.E.L.D. had a number of maximum security lockups for the most dangerous of prisoners scattered throughout the globe. This was one of them. Access granted by the virtue of Commander May's rank and the current circumstances. After going through a series of security sweeps paranoid even by SHIELD's normal standards, the group would be face to face with the current Madame Hydra, aka Viper, aka Olivia Sarkinson.
    In a force field bubble, wheeled out over on a gurney and propped up with her body in a series of full body restraints of manacles, chains, and energy cuffs she would be lead into a small, cramped interview room.
Melinda May May brought precisely one person along with her for this interview: Dottie Underwood. Because there's no one in SHIELD, other than Daniel, who'd be more invested in bringing the Chief home than the pair of them. That, and Dottie is easily as good a profiler as either May or Peggy. She's better, in fact, when it comes to reading the eddies of the underworld. So, she's valuable.

When Viper is brought in, May regards the HYDRA woman through the 2-way glass for a moment, glancing down at the info on her tablet. Well. This should be fun. Glancing briefly to Dottie, she lays the tablet down on the table in the obsveration room and leaves to enter the interrogation room proper.

She doesn't greet the captive woman when she enters. She merely stands there for a moment or two, studying her. She doesn't need to do it in this room, of course. She could have done it just as well in the other room. But she's always preferred the hands-on-in-person approach. Besides, she gets a better empathic read when she's closer, than when there are walls in the way.

While she doesn't really expect the woman to be very forthcoming about anything, she is absolutely willing to let her react how she will to the initial intrusion -- just to get a baseline read on her emotions. Because the woman can't hide her emotions from the Inhuman Empath, even if they never reach the level of body language or facial expressions.
Dottie Underwood Dottie takes note of the interview room's accommodations. She's been in them often enough. Usually, however, as the interviewee. She briefly rubs her wrist, fingers tracing the old scar. She waits in the backroom, behind the two way glass. Just in case the woman in chains remembers that Dottie should be working for her and starts asking inconvenient questions.
Monet St. Croix Wheeled out and over, surrounded by guards along with the two senior agents, Ophelia looks amused, "Why, I didn't realize I rated such importance. So what brings you two, esteemed guests, down to see me?" She would croon over and then settle down. not being able to do more than look fully ahead, blink, and breathe and pumped full of muscle relaxants so she couldn't so much as tense out.

"And Dottie, a pleasure. I must thank you for your service. You've been so useful to us.. Particularly now. You've been amazing at your current job. I thank you from the bottom of my heart."
Melinda May May doesn't bother to glance at mirror behind which Dottie waits. She can sense Viper's amusement and actually finds it possible to draw on the woman's calm to temper the cycle of rage she's still trying to control within herself. Helpful, that. Thus, she's able to maintain a businesslike demeanor as she studies the woman for just another heartbeat or two, evaluating whether she should play this as Melinda May, Commander of STRIKE and upstanding SHIELD agent, or slip into the persona of her HYDRA counterpart from the Framework... who is a helluva lot meaner. (Which is actually saying something.)

In the end, she walks casually around the woman, looking at her restraints. "You know that doesn't work, right?" She speaks when she's behind the woman, slowly coming back around to the front. "The mindgames. The baiting. We've already been through the biggest mindfuck HYDRA has to offer. So..." She shrugs. Like it doesn't matter.

Like it's not part of what fuels the rage Vostokoff's serum has trapped her in.

"Besides... if Underwood really were in your employ, you wouldn't be poking at her. You wouldn't want to tip your hand." She gives a faint, sharp smile. "I know you're crazy, but I don't think you're *that* crazy."
Monet St. Croix Viper would smile over from her position, "That's so amusing. And no one ever escapes Hydra. There are just those delusional enough to think they do. And she's definitely not in the second category." Viper would sneer over. The game is just designed to unsettle her targets. While May might not be one that would take the bait..

Hopefully Dottie would. This was a duel between interrogator and interrogatee. "And how quaint. You think you've been through the best that we can offer." She would grin, "How little you know. How little you know." An almost manic look on her face.
Melinda May May chuckles softly in return, a sound that would disturb anyone who actually *knows* her. It's dark, brief, and betrays a depth of experience. "Oh, I get it now. You're the type of HYDRA head that likes to posture and preen. Turn up unexpectedly for a big inspection. Throw your weight around. Make it look like you're worth something, when really... You're just Face the real Power uses as a distraction. Sorry. Our bad. Good distraction though. I almost thought you were worth something."
Monet St. Croix Viper would just smirk, "Oh? Is that it? I'm veyr sure that you all are so ever amusing. You've gone out of your way to be welcoming here. DOn't you know how much invested you are in us? SHIELD has been ever so helpful to Hydra. You've gone out of your way to be accomodating."
Melinda May "Seems to me," May replies, "that you're the ones invested in us." Her arms cross over her chest and she leans against a nearby table with one hip. "I mean, c'mon. Maelstrom. Hale. Mallick. Volger. List. Reinhardt." She just starts ticking off all the heads of HYDRA they've chopped off in recent months. "Every single one of them spent more time trying to get in under our skin than we did rooting them out. And you're not nearly as good as any of them. That much is pretty obvious."

She snirks derisively. "The Appalachians? Really? That's the best you could do? I mean, kudos on the equipment. Pretty decent stuff. But, how hard was that, really, with Maelstrom creating such an expert distraction for so long. It's not like you've actually done anything, yourself, to make you remotely impressive."
Monet St. Croix May would get a dazzling smile, "Oh, poor deluded Agents. Look at how much we've done under your nose. Look how far you've had to scramble back up from the brink. Look at how far the rot goes in you. In your governments. In your world. SHIELD is rotting from within, Hydra has to do little. And all you do with your actions is make it all the faster to happen."

She would go on, "You should know this. Cut off one head, hurry along your own demise. SHIELD and Hydra are two faces of the same coin after all."
Melinda May "Mm-hmm. Yeahyeahyeah." May sounds vaguely, insincerely impatient. "*La natura umana impone che questo sia l'occhio del ciclone dove chiameremo casa." The Italian flows easily off her tongue, translating to 'Human nature dictates that this is the eye of the storm where we shall call home.' An odd phrase, perhaps, unless Viper is familiar with the more esoteric origins of her faction. "Cut off one head, two more shall rise. I've had the recruitment speech, thanks. Two sides of the same coin, blahblahblah. You don't have any original material, do you?"

She turns to the mirror, now, speaking to Dottie. "You were right. Two-bit poser with delusions of grandeur. Put her in for transfer to the Rat. Might as well ICE her."

She glances back to Viper. "Unless, you know, you've actually got some better material tucked away somewhere. 'Cause, you know, right now you're looking more like the brawn than the brains."
Monet St. Croix Viper would smile over at May, "Then let me give you some of my material, Commander May." She would grin and just smile. "Do you wonder why you were given this assignment to talk to me? OUt of experience, perhaps? OUt of undrestnading? Why you over so many others offered to someone as important or unimportant as I? Have you looked into why things were settled the affairs that there were?"

She would whisper <"You were sent to me for a reason, -Commander-. Look within yourself, and nkow it. At your core. Don't you think that everything has been just a bit too easy? Or simple?"
Dottie Underwood From behind the glass, Dottie yawns. May can catch the softest edge of the sound over coms. She had been so hopeful. But the edge of her razor excitement has dulled with the exchanged barbs.

It's been so long since she's had a real challenge.

The opening feint had been a paltry gesture, one she knew Agent May wouldn't fall for. But it did at least signal that they were playing.

As the game progresses however, she becomes bored with the rote teasing. Like a bad flirt, the Viper recycles old lines. Some that Dottie'd even used herself half a lifetime ago.

She lets out a small tsk of disapproval. "Sloppy," she murmurs under her breath. Better that they end this charade. If the Olivia Sarkinson can't show that she's useful, they might as well deprive HYDRA of another head.
Melinda May "Little girl," May snirks, pushing off the table, recognizing that she's starting to get a reaction now, "I was given this assignment because they actually think I will keep that woman in there," she points at Dottie, "from killing you just for fun." There's a look in her eye, as she lets a hint of her controlled rage surface, that makes the guards around Viper nervous -- mainly because they know damned well that she could take any and all of them in a heartbeat... all while Dottie does whatever the hell it is she wants to do. And they're really not sure which way it'll go.

Except, of course, that May is The Cavalry. They can count on her, right? Of course, they can...

That doesn't stop them from exchanging uncomfortable glances and fingering their weapons.

May ignores them. Her focus is on Sarkinson -- reading her emotional state as well as her tells and misdirections. "Except we've managed to kill every other head of HYDRA." A beat. "Some of them twice -- but that was a whole time thing, so it doesn't really count. Though, spacing the Red Skull was fun." Yes. She's serious. "So, keeping you alive... really not a priority."

She meets the other woman's eyes. "Which means now's the part where you tell me something that's actually useful, verifiable, and proof that you're really not just a pretty-faced wannabe in a green dress. Because, right now, I don't give a rat's ass what happens to you. Roaches like you? You're a dime a dozen. We caught you without trying. Your successor won't be any harder to find."
Monet St. Croix There's a sneer over from Viper as she would look from Dotite to May and back again. Bait taken, rage building beneath the surface. Then starting to simmer over as she would flash a smile. "I didn't want it to come to this.." But nwo she has another card to play over as the group would glare murder at one another. Dottie, Viper, May..

"Alpha. Terrestrial. Malkovich. Sympatico." Then she would go on. "Alpha. Terrestrial. Malkovich. Sympatico." Casually throwing those lines out again and repeating them if not stopped.

Anger simmering to hatred as she's looking at the two with murder. Those words ever so calmly spoken over with a sort of twisted sincerity behind them.

"Enjoy the rest of your life."
Dottie Underwood It's time to end this little charade. Dottie enters the small confines of the interrogation room. So that Sarkinson can see the sparkle in her eye as she approaches. Stalking to table, she ignores May. She ignores the guards. If they want to try and save this paltry life, it's of little consequence to her.

"I think that's about enough of that," Dottie says with a savage grin. Killing an unarmed woman in restraints, it seems barely worth her her time and creativity. Which doesn't mean she won't do it.
Monet St. Croix Sarkinson just smiles over at Dottie and flashes her teeth. "Cut off one head, two more will take it's place. And there's so -much- you odn't know about yourself. So much that you'll never know. So much at hand that we have that you're desperate for."

Now she's going purely to try and make the other woman mentally bleed as much as possible.
Melinda May It's the shift in the woman's emotional spectrum -- her amusement and practiced calm dissolving into hatred and rage -- that tells May all she need to know. This so-called Madame Hydra is desperate, now. Because those words? Those words mean *nothing* to May. They aren't her trigger words. And Dottie predates the serum.

Doesn't mean, though, that the attempt -- the supposition that repeating a trigger phrase would throw her -- doesn't piss her off. Indeed, the fact this squid-loving tramp can dangle that in front of her suggests that Dreykov has been bragging.

"Agents." Her voice is sharp, commanding. She levels her gaze at the guards. "You are dismissed." Apparently, she has no intention of stopping Dottie's advance.

The guards look at her, startled. One of them looks like he might say something -- might protest. May's eyes flash. His eyes grow wide and that spike of fear and reluctance he feels flares briefly. Together, he and his partner doubletime it out of the room, leaving the three women alone.
Dottie Underwood Dottie's hands are around the woman's throat as soon as she clears the table. She doesn't pause to watch the guards retreat. She doesn't wait for a signal from May. She doesn't hesitate.

"I've forgotten more about myself than you'll ever know," she whispers in Sarkinson's, her voice barely audible. And then she squeezes.
Monet St. Croix Is this an offering of sorts? Of peace? Of just a little revenge for all those decades of suffering experienced? All one has to do is look teh other way. And for all her own rage and hate even Sarkinson can break.

"Cut off one head.."
Monet St. Croix     That's the last phrase of any specific vocal meaning that Madame Hydra, aka Viper, aka Olivia Sarkinson can get out. What follows next, as the security cameras and all teh other sorts of recording material and safeguards go down..

Is the screams.
Melinda May It's really only when May starts to feel the spark of fear that is the flickering of Viper's extinguishing life that she realizes just how far they've gone. Her hand catches one of Dottie's wrists -- as Viper's screams fade into the gurgle of unconsciousness. "Stop," she says. Her eyes narrow. Her small smile is sharp... unkind. "I have an idea, but we need her alive."

---

Hours later, when Viper awakes -- her head doubtlessly pounding and her throat raw and ruined from screaming and the brusing of the Russian woman's hands -- it's in complete blackness. Hell? No.

She's zipped into a body bag, laid on a slab, awaiting transfer from a SHIELD-run morgue. No longer bound, no longer imprisoned. Indeed, when she struggles out, there are no guards, and no personnel to speak of. It's the wee hours of the morning and, really... who needs to guard a corpse?

Escape, then, is easy. She'll live to exact her revenge, no doubt.

---

The phone rings. May picks up.

"You wanted to know when the tracker was on the move," a young agent in Ops tells her. "It's moving now."

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, the empath smiles a dark smile. "I'll be there in 20. Don't lose that signal."

The game's afoot.