Owner	Pose
Daniel Sousa	It wasn't the first time a body had turned up in the Roosevelt Hotel pool, one guy who had too much to drink tripped and fell in and drowned, another staying here because his old lady put him out, grabbed a couple of bricks from some repair work and stuffed them in his pockets before taking a final swim. So when the staff told the manager it had happened again he thought it was more of the same, though one look at the body with three red spots leaking blood in his back, told him it was something else, it was a murder. From there word moved fast, first through the Hollywood detective bureau and then when the coroner's office fished the stiff out of the pool and checked his ID the call went through to the LA office of SHIELD. From there, after stunned disbelief a call was made to the home office, to let the brass, and particularly Director Carter the bad news: Field Director Sousa was dead. SHIELD's investigation started at once with Chief Jefferson Ryan taking point personally. He'd worked under Sousa when he was Chief Sousa of the LA SSR branch he wanted to make sure whoever it was who plugged his friend got what was coming to them. SHIELD had swept in and took over everything, crime scene, the body, any witness reports and got started on interviewing them all again, all the while waiting for the team from headquarters to show up. This was their first agent down in the line of duty, and it happened to be the Director's husband, the eyes of the whole agency were on this case.
Melinda May	The *only* reason Lily ended up out West on her own, without Peggy, is because of little Michael. While Peggy made a voiciferous (and voluminous) argument as to why she should be the one to go, saner heads ultimately prevailed. Chester Phillips blustered about conflict of interest and optics, which only incensed her more. Howard, however, ultimately talked her down, reminding her about Michael and promising to send the very best representative he could to act as a liaison between the East and West Coast bureaus. When it became evident he meant Lily... Peggy gave in. So, the women spent a quiet evening together -- one in angry denial, the other promising to do everything within her power to find out the truth (and that she'd call her friend the moment she had anything actionable) -- before Lily rose early the next morning and headed for L.A. A taxi brings her from the airport to the SHIELD offices in LA. It's not often Lily channels the full presence of Melinda May, these days. She's her own person. But there are times that fierce, angry persona, quiet as it is, is the perfect fit. This is one of those times. After all, emotions are running high, including Lily's own. And, like Melinda, anger is something she can channel and control extremely well. Thus, when she enters the office, she is composed and straight backed, her head held high and her expression all business. She's wearing a dark blue business suit, a skirt instead of trousers for once, with a white blouse beneath a fitted jacket. There's a case in her hand and her purse over her shoulder. She enters the bullpen and pauses just out of the way of the door, dark eyes absorbing the busy scene.
Daniel Sousa	The LA office got an upgrade with the switch from the SSR to SHIELD, one of the benefits of the West Coast field director being an alum of the SSR's shoestring branch on the west coast. The old office was still around, mostly kept by Daniel for sentimental reasons (and because it made a good off the books site for personal investigations) but the main office was moved to the now defunct Hotel Normadie, purchased for them by Howard Stark. It was much grander surroundings but the bones of it remained the same, a bullpen, interrogation rooms, offices with frosted glass and names on the door. As Lily enters the place with that Melinda May energy people take note, most of them had seen her in action a time or two but few of them had seen her this mad, they just simply stepped out of her way as she passed. At the bullpen it was a hive of activity people on phones, gathering reports, or just quietly grieving with each other by the coffee machine. When they look up, they notice Lily and fall quiet, while Ryan on the phone across the bullpen, tells the person on the other end. "Call you back," before hanging up and coming over. The Chief extends a hand, the other scratching at his tight curled black hair, "Lily, good to see you, just wish it was under a helluva lot better circumstances, I've got most of the info we've got so far in my office if you want a look."
Melinda May	Lily's eyes sweep the gathered agents. Her lips press together, but she gives them all a simple nod that's at once greeting and, strangely enough, reassurance. She's not here to harangue them, after all. She's here for answers -- the same answers they want. When Ryan approches, she takes his hand, again with a small nod. "Chief." She doesn't smile, though the firm line of her lips does soften slightly, but she precedes him into his office and steps to one side of the desk as he closes the door. "Show me what you've got."
Daniel Sousa	Ryan's desk is strewn with folders and photographs of the scene. Door closed he joins her by the desk picking up a notepad. "I assume you're read in on Operation Doohickey?" the man asks, flinching slightly at the name, there was a reason why Howard wasn't usually allowed to pick operation codenames. "Daniel was tasked with delivering a vital piece of Stark tech to a contact at the Roosevelt hotel. He took a train from Vegas after getting back from the Groom Lake base and checked in with us when he got to LA at 9:15, from there all we know for sure is he met his contact passed off the device around 10:20 to his contact. The contact said Daniel saw men in the bar, he faked taking the device back and then sent his contact out the side door, trying to lead the men away from the contact and the device. The contact got out clean and we picked him up at the rendezvous point, but around 10:30 the Hollywood dicks got a call about a body in the Hotel Roosevelt pool and once they fished him out and checked his ID they called us." Ryan looks out a breath. "Three shots to his back, then fell in the pool. We've got an autopsy scheduled, and I hope to hell it tells us he died before he hit water, as for who did it, no IDs on the men from the witnesses or our contact, just three or four big men in trench coats and hats, and one guy said he saw a dam- a woman coming back from the pool area but he'd been in the bar all night, got the statements here," he produces a folder. "We've got the contact back to the office, and the device is in the air to New York and 20 of our guys are locking down and taking apart th scene."
Melinda May	Lily listens as dispassionately as she can. It's the first time, however, in a long time -- really since her first couple of years in this world -- that she's been bombarded with so many strong emotions. Daniel was well-respected and well-loved. To have him be the first agent lost in the line of duty? It's not just unfair... it's unthinkable. And everyone's feeling it. But she's not distracted by those feelings. She allows them to sink into her and fuel her determination to figure out just what happened. Thus, she nods to his query about Doohicky -- yeah, Howard should never be allowed to choose names for anything, but she's familiar with it. It was supposed to be an easy op, right on the heels of that harborfront op back in New York where they got the mirror out of Dante's inferno. She listens to his recounting of the timeline. "So, we're guessing time of death to be sometime between 10:20 and 10:30. That's not a big window." Briefly, memories of scouring security footage comes to mind. Except, of course, Melinda was still a child when security cameras became normalized. And she hasn't been born yet. Future memories can be so maddening, sometimes. "I'd like to look at the site," she tells him. "Did any of the guests hear the shots or were they using suppressors?" That could help narrow the time further, though why the specific time may be important is a question niggling the back of her consciousness. She reaches out a hand to pick up the folder with the witness accounts, starting to skim over them. "Any descriptions of the men at the bar." A beat. "Or the woman?" She knows better than to discount the woman.
Daniel Sousa	The whole place buzzes with emotion, from anger to grief, Ryan is mostly the former. He was close with his old Chief, hell, it was Sousa who picked him as his successor before he flew off to New York, the weight of that friendship, that gratitude weighs heavy on the man now, fueling his own determination to find the bastards that did it. As to the descriptions, Ryan supplies from memory, "Three, four guys depending on who's telling the story, white, trenchcoats, hats, one was slender and weasley looking, black hair and a scar under his right eye, the others were all tall, muscular, dark or brown hair, one might have a broken nose. Bartender said they ordered beer and spoke with local accents," he says. "The lady, tall, pretty, hair was covered up by her hat, possibly dark coloured, she was white, and the lush at the bar said when he looked at her she put a finger to her lips and winked, he figured he caught her on the way back from meeting her fella for a bit of hanky panky by the pool."
Melinda May	"Do we have a sketch artist who can capture likenesses based on descriptions?" Lily asks after a moment. The descriptions they've been given could describe any number of thugs. She lets out a soft sigh, knowing they have their work cut out of for them. "This... seems too precise to be something a couple of thugs would have done. Three shots. Three men. It's convenient, but... Excessive." That said, while she's not willing to dismiss the woman, not without finding out more about her, she is willing to accept the drunk's assessment at face value for the moment. Unfortunately, Lily has neither Peggy's nor Daniel's acquaintence with the most dangerous and successful of female operatives out there. Which means her working premise -- discount no one -- is solid, but her instincts are flawed because she doesn't have the right context to frame them. "Any leads to indicate whether this could be HYDRA?" Or maybe someone else. But, even now... their first suspect is always HYDRA.
Daniel Sousa	"Already got someone working on that," Ryan says of the sketches, "I haven't seen any of them personally but Baker down at the scene says they look like someone put out a call for 'thug' to central casting. Was thinking of rousting Manfredi about them, see if he might put names to faces, maybe trade him a bit more visitation time with Frost in the looney bin if he plays nice. You're probably right though, this doesn't feel like the sort of hit you hand to guys like that, possibly they were on site for other reasons, maybe just a drink, but we'll find them anyway so we can ask them face to face. As for the lady the lush wasn't big on details we've got him drying out in medical though, if you want to take a run at him when he's sober be my guest. "And about what you said earlier, you can check out the scene too, any time." He sits on the edge of his desk then, "Nothing directly this to HYDRA but from what I've been able to tell Stark's doohickey was important, I called Wilkes at R&D HQ to give me the skinny but he wouldn't say a peep which is usually a good sign it's a big deal, that and how nervous he sounded until I told him we got it safe. So, really HYDRA, the Russians, even Roxxon is on the table at this point."
Melinda May	Lily's not surprised at the breadth of the suspect pool. She'd already opened that catalogue in her head. Ultimately, however, she leans against filing cabinet, still scanning down the folder in her hands. A soft sigh escapes her lips. "Bloody hell," she swears, having spent long enough with Carter to have picked up the curse. She runs a finger tip over a brow, not so much smoothing it as stroking a hint of tension away. "There's nothing more I can do here," she says. "I need to see the scene." She looks over to Ryan and offers the first hint of a smile. It's small, rueful, and sad all at once. Her eyes convey a hint of her own grief and a great deal more sympathy. "I'm sorry," she tells him sincerely. "I know you and your boys are doing absolutely everything you can. And I'll make sure Director Carter knows it, too. You've got a good team, and I know Daniel chose his successor well. We've all got too much skin in this game. And we've all lost a friend." Family, if she's honest.
Daniel Sousa	Ryan nods, returning a similar sad smile. She can feel how much he's hurting, but through it runs an iron core of determination. "Hell, Chen, at this point I'm not even sweating credit, I just want to see the bastards that did this in a wagon or a hearse, don't much care which," he says. "I'll call ahead to the hotel and let them know you call the shots on the scene until I say otherwise, and when Robets gets back into town, I'll send her down to you. I assume you and she don't mind taking point on this?"
Melinda May	Lily appreciates Ryan's words. Her smile shifts accordingly, especially as he brings Rose into the mix. "Love to," she replies, satisfaction in both her tone and expression. "Knowing Rose, she'll insist on being there, anyway. And Director Carter will approve." Not because they're both women. But because they're both trusted. Trust they've earned. She tosses the folder down on the desk. "Alright then. I'm going to grab a car and head down to the hotel. You give Rose the heads up and get your agents to get us copies of whatever they've already got -- the statements and everything else. We'll regroup once I've had a chance to feel the place out." She pauses a moment, and offers Ryan her hand. "Thanks, Chief. I'm glad to be working with you."
Daniel Sousa	"Just getting ahead of the game, I knew there'd be no stopping Rose from getting involved, so figure might as well just bow to the inevitable, besides with the two of you on the job? I feel a helluva lot more confident we're going to crack the case. The two dicks from city police on the job look like the only thing they can detect is when it's happy hour at the Frolic Room, Rose should be in the air by now, so when she lands I'll send her right on to you." He shakes her hand. "And you agent Chen, pick a car from the motor pool and it's yours I'll make sure the guys on site have what you need when you get there." Pausing a moment his brow furrows as if considering something before he just spits it out, "Tell me to pound sand if you want, Chen, but, uh, how'd the Director take it?" he asks genuine concern there for Peggy. Hell he'd been there fighting frogmen at the wedding this was personal for him like it was for so many in the agency.
Melinda May	Satisfied as Lily is by Ryan's answer about the resources, it's the personal question that makes her stop. She knows this is personal for him. For so many of them. Thus, she exhales wearily and lets him see a little more of the woman behind the mask of the agent. "About like you'd expect," she admits. "I think she's still hoping I'll discover there's been a mistake or misunderstanding. Misidentification, maybe." She shakes her head faintly. "I know there's no mistake... but I wish there were. If I can help bring her some closure, it'll be enough. I don't think she'll ever be the same, though."
Daniel Sousa	Ryan gives an understanding nod, "I bet," he says. "Hell I was thinking the same thing, it had to be some mistake, a guy who stole the Chief's" he still called him by his old rank. "ID and got plugged, that lasted until I saw the body. I wish there was a mistake, Chen, I really do, our last hope is the autopsy that maybe this was a squid cut to look like Sousa but even as weird as things get around here that's pretty thin." He lets out a breath. "When the time's right, I'll give her a call, give my condolences, but like you said the best thing we can give the Director is closure, so I'll let you get to it, just keep me in the loop, and find the bastards that did it."
Melinda May	Lily nods in response. "That's the plan," she assures him. She gives him a last smile, grim though it may be, and turns for the door. Out in the bullpen, eyes return to her when she steps from the office. She glances about the room. "We'll get 'em," she tells them -- needlessly, perhaps. But she can sense the apprehension in the air and she feels it shift back toward determination with the breath of her confidence. The noise of business returns to the room and she glances briefly back to Ryan before she heads out to find that car and get down to the hotel. There's work to do.