2014.04.14 - Ghosts of the Past - Inklings

Sidewinder Computer Technologies

The Sidewinder Computer Technologies Headquarters is 12 floors of secrecy. Located in a European metropolis, little is known of what happens within the tower of glass. Aside from its odd design (with a warehouse for deliveries attached directly to the rear of the building) it otherwise looks like an everyday office building.

Sidewinder Computer Technologies is mainly known for the variety of affordable computer hardware and software they sell to the average consumer. What has likely been forgotten by these consumers is the origin of the name – the founder Mitchell Hedge claimed to have invented teleportation technology that manifested as waving arcs of energy, which he likened to the impressions left in the sand by a sidewinder snake. The public displays of the technology never worked and the organization quietly diverted their resources to computers and the teleportation technology was abandoned.

Or so it was thought.

The last few months has seen varying organizations, banks, security firms, and other such companies raided or stolen from. All low interest stuff, really, but SHIELD has recorded it nonetheless. One never knows when the information more prove invaluable. Analysts eventually linked all the incidents together and discovered energy readings matching the supposed display of the 'sidewinder teleporter' at each location.

The information went up the chain of command but it was eventually decided it /could/ be a coincidence. After all, someone could have stolen notes and continued the work. Monitoring of Sidewinder's finances, however, have shown transactions of varying amounts to groups that are on SHIELD's monitoring list. The day after this discovery, the Sidewinder HQ building went dark. No communications.

Frankly, Maria's ordered raids of similar suspicious places for less. And fewer triggered her gut reaction – something's up. Wireless headset in place, SHIELD's deputy director called for two quinjets and then placed several individual calls to gather up her team. With the team on the way, her voice comes over the comm system.

“Stark, Black, Danvers, Digby, Yamaguchi – you're Alpha Team. Your Quinjet is dropping you off on the roof. I want you to rifle through the veep offices that the floor plans indicate are there. I want more information on company operations. Why the money was sent to those groups.

"Potts, Wolverine, Sofen, Van Dyne– you're Bravo. The Quinjet is dropping you off at ground level. Rear Entrance. Floorplans indicate a thick steel door used to seal off the entrance to the basement level. I want to know what's there. If they're really selling stuff to those groups in Asia, I want to know the source – their records are clear and accounted for, but the money has to be for something. Find it, deal with it. The Wayne Electronics drones we bought are showing the building to be empty... which means I don't trust that result at all. Keep your eyes peeled.

“If you can grab it, take it. Photograph it. Whatever. I want documentation for everything.”

"Hai, Deputy Director." Agent Yamaguchi offers. She pauses long enough in her quarters to suit up and add several pieces of SHIELD gear suitable to such an operation, together with the gear she always insists on carrying when going into a potentially hot operation, and then she jogs very, very quickly through the carrier's hallways and stairwells until she reaches the flight deck and that waiting quinjet. When the call letters for the plane appear on her tiny heads-up display in her goggles, she diverts to the right quinjet, leaps up - clearing the ramp provided for this purpose - into the belly of the plane, and clips in as she waits for takeoff.

Henrietta is already aboard when Katsuko boards, fully arrayed with all the protective gear and goodies both violent and technological that SHIELD has to offer. She’s reviewing the operational specs for the building one last time as the gracefully lethal girl settles in across from her, giving her a small smile and nod.

Perhaps it is a need to stay in the field, or maybe it's knowledge of energy fields from her past experience at absorbing and expelling energy wavelengths, but either way Carol was assigned to this mission. She's geared up for the raid with the ballistic armor common to SHIELD agents, an MP-7 Submachinegun as a sidearm, and an M4 Carbine in hand. All sorts of neat tech tricks have been done with these weapons such as the sights and lasers and underbarrel shotguns to be 'master key lockpicks'.

She's verifying that the magazines are topped off, the action clean, and all that when she's spoken to. "Understood." she says in a businesslike manner to Maria. Her hair is tied back and she actually has a backwards facing SHIELD cap on her head, so the bill doesn't get in the way of any movements. On her other hip, a polycarbonate combat knife ... just in case of close encounters. She reaches up and activates her earpiece, "Radio check." she says into it before nodding at the confirmation that all is well. The weapons are suppressed of course, adding to their bulk... well not the shotgun but that's obvious right? "Ready to roll."

Shrinking Violet nearly drops out of the sky when the voice of AD Maria Hill suddenly comes across the com channel. The poor girl forgot she'd key'd SHIELD into her com's frequency. She must have looked increadibly silly trying to salute while simultaneously dropping a few feet. "Y-yes Assistant Dire~ Yes right away.", she stammers, veering off patrol and headed for the agreed meeting spot.

So it is a few minutes later that Salu finds herself aboard a Quinjet, having quite suddenly upsized after passing through one of the walls and almost too casually taking a seat. For once she was not eyeing everything with a mix of condescension and burning curiosity. No she was busy preparing her equipment. Somewhere in the trip she had changed into a SHIELD jumpsuit, but still wore her Legion issue belt and ring. In her hands was a small pen like device, she was fiddling with almost obsessively. Her omni-tool.

"Camera... Security Bypass protocol, area scan protocol, cutting torch... what else?", she murmurs distractedly, seeming to entirely overlook the other two agents for the time being. Indeed Violet would likely look increadibly underequipped next to her fellow agents, only having whatever she happens to be carrying around in those small utility pouches on her belt. It isn't until a voice over the comm breaks her concentration, and her head snaps up.

"Confirmed", she says into her comm with all the grace of someone woken from a nap, finally pausing to look around at the gathering. "O-oh! Hello everyone."

Putting his black clad glove near his lips, "Mike check Bravo. Wolverine set," Logan checked his communicator. He was wearing a black and silver jumpsuit, no marks except for the mark he folded over his head. Stealth was going to be key since they were ground level. So a nearly all-black was better than something dark blue, no offense to the shield jumpsuit. His eyes looked over the group, "I can detect weapons n' explosives with their scents. Who else can translate?" he asked unsure who was good with languages. Languages and Logan got along well, but another skilled linguist was good. Getting aboard the Quinjet he breathed out. Memories of World War II flashed before his mind's eye. Back then he did a few drops. No matter how many times his mind went into therapy it couldn't shake the familiarity of it all. How the stiff walls felt against his back, how I felt to be strapped in, the sound of the gangplank opening, the wind that whipped over your skin, and the rush of the drop. All of it struck him quickly. No matter if it was the Black Bird or a Quinjet, it always came back to him. Strapping himself into place he looked over his team. "Ready fer this?"

Jan gives her radio check as well before she falls quiet, trying not to feel like a sore thumb here, still not used to being a part of the org. The 'new kid on the block' feeling is added to by how she's wearing something entirely different from the majority of the others, her gold-on-black Wasp costume having to suffice as she doens't have anything else to wear that has been infused with Pym Particles. Looking around, she manages a smile here and there before taking a keen interest in her feet, watching them while they further prepare themselves.

Why in the heck did Pepper agree to this? Oh, right. Because Natasha is out of town 'on business', and with the help of JARVIS via Rescue, she'll be able to hack computer systems nearly as well as the assassin. She still feels really uneasy about this, though, as a few months' worth of training in the suit followed by some combat instruction from Val then Nat does NOT mean she's a fully trained Agent, much less an experienced Avenger. But, still, the request for assistance was sent to Tony (and her) directly. So, she's here despite all of her reservations.

Belted into her seat on the Quinjet, she looks at the others accompanying her a bit curiously, hugging the black COACH bag on her lap a bit closer. Ms. Van Dyne she knows mostly from the same gossip rags that love to try and crucify Tony or her on a regular basis, but the other two are unfamiliar.

When Logan asks about languages, she offers with her usual efficiency, "What I can't translate, JARVIS likely can." She pats, of all things, the bag on her lap. She doesn't answer about the question whether or not she's ready. It's clear on her face that she isn't, but she's determined to see it through anyway.

Ms. Marvel, Heroine of the Peoples, AKA Dr. Karla Sofen assesses the situation. Her eyes scan over the group she is with as she assigns the roles in her mind: Logan 'Wolverine' - Trap-detector, and Meat Shield; Pepper Potts - Geeky Secretary, maybe egg-head, future Stark Heiress; Van Dyne - Unknown, real S.H.I.E.L.D Agent? Ms. Marvel doesn't bother with strapping in, she just nods to the team and relaxes into her seat for the trip. A nod to Van Dyne in turn. Wolverine gets a clear toned, "All set." Then Karla settles her eyes back on Potts for the flight.

The flights don't take particularly long. Not in the Quinjets. Like the engines that power the Helicarrier, the engines for the Quinjets are proprietary (and probably the result of Stark and Banner having too many late nights bouncing ideas around and gorging on junk food). They get the job done, though.

The rooftop – which has been transformed into a helipad – is completely empty. The lights marking the helipad are still functional, however, and wink at the Quinjet as it lands.A short staircase leads to a door, which in turn leads to a hallway that winds around the top floor of the building. A light above this door flashes red brightly before dimming into nothingness. From the exit to the rooftop, the hall branches in two directions. Evenly spaced from this point onwards are doors labeled with names and meaningless, interchangeable titles. VP of this or that. Marketing. Finances. All the doors are unlocked – some are even partially open – and all the computers are still on. Apparently nobody uses screen savers in this building. Or turns their machines off.

Around both corners from this hall are meeting rooms, encased in transparent glass. Nothing looks amiss in either one. There are papers left behind. File folders. But it's all very neat and orderly. There are mounted flat screen televisions currently showing a local news report. The volume is out on each. On the leftmost hall, the room immediately after the meeting room is labeled 'Armory L-42'. Like the other doors, this one is slightly ajar. In the opposing hall, taking up the rest of that wall up to the corner is a room labeled 'Upper Security'. Inside the consoles and monitors are partially active, with the largest one showing a set of large, closed double doors. Nameplate reading 'Hedge's Office'. Another seems to be showing a screen saver of some kind, with red swirling movements forming a vaguely portal-like pattern.

There's something odd about the air. It's not quite the smell of a lightning strike, but saying it smells of ozone wouldn't be far off, either. The smell doesn't remain the same, either; the further in one gets, the stronger the smell becomes.

(Rooftop entry, and me without my flight power...) O O o o. . thinks Carol as the quinjet drops her team off. She's off the jet first, down on one knee rifle aimed to cover the others as they work their way out of the craft. Talking time is over. Time for hand signals and stealth protocols. Once all folks are off that first craft, she gives a double click on her mic before moving to follow the rest of the team towards the rooftop accessway to the building.

"Comm check Alpha." comes Yamaguchi's very soft-toned voice, barely above a whisper but carrying clearly, despite the strong Japanese accent. Cover consciousness, even when she's in the midst of a SHIELD striketeam operation. Clad in a dark grey darksuit and tabi, with a gear harness supporting various pouches and weapons, Katsuko's masked form - yes, she looks like the stereotypical ninja - is lacking only a visible sword to complete the package. A few know, however, that she seems to never lack for a sword. Not really. She nods to Henrietta as she takes her seat, and to Salu when she appears. A deeper bow of her head is offered to the blonde Danvers as she climbs aboard. The appearance of Stark earns another nod, of course, even if she may inwardly feel like the science consultant /might/ be better suited with the ground team. "All clear, unit Alpha is go, Deputy Director." she calls in, as the ramp raises to seal them inside, the quinjet launching to take them to their destination.

As the quinjet comes in for a landing, Yamaguchi is up and moving to the controls, opening the ramp even though they aren't landed yet. She's guessing Danvers will be right behind or beside her, as she leaps out to get clear and sweeps the rooftop, checking for traps, tripwires, lasers, charges or other threats. By the time the rest of the team is down, she has already swept that first entry door, and is waiting for the all-clear sign before she opens it, proceeding through right behind Carol as they sweep the entry halls ahead of their team.

Shrinking Violet moves up to the ramp of the Quinjet in back as it approaches the drop point,

“The drones still report no heat signatures present in the building, though with the sheer volume of technology, we have to assume that remote monitoring is a decided possibility.” Henrietta murmurs into the coms after one last glance at her Starkphone. It’s tucked away as the jet touches down and then she’s unclipped and away, out the door just after Carol and Katsuko in her sleek black SHIELD body armor.

The high-tech looking slippers on her feet barely make a sound on the gravel-strewn rooftop as she follows the other agents silently down the short staircase and through the door into the maze of offices. This is about following the money ostensibly, and so when she arrives outside the door marked ‘FINANCES’ she glances up at Carol, shooting her and Katsuko a hand sign and flattening herself against the wall nearest the doorway before nudging the door ever-so-slightly wider with her elbow, softly enough that the movement might be written off as a gust of breeze.

Shrinking Violet moves up to the ramp of the Quinjet in back as it approaches the drop point, strange pen device still in hand as she survey's the rooftop. That being said, she's also last of Alpha Team off and on her way down to the helipad. She steps off the offramp, and lets her flight ring do the rest as she swoops down, a slow forward roll letting her land quietly on her feet. Even before touchdown, she was staring at the small thing, looking... troubled. More troubled truthfully by frequent assurances that the building is empty.

Her expression, frankly, doesn't improve as she follows the strike team in. The further she goes, the more she looks around, or at that small device, the more worried she looks. Distracted as she might seem, she wasn't missing anything. She eyes the doors, even waves her pen over them, and sighs. Finally she can't take it anymore, and raises a handsign to indicate extreme caution. Even if her signalling is perhaps weak, her expression should make the point clear. She did NOT like this... one bit.

Like those on the roof, the Quinjet makes the drop off at the rear without problems. It too, takes off for the moment, recalled to a safe - but not far - distance. Just in case.

The rear entrance proves to be the large steel doors used by delivery trucks to unload or pack up various goods. This particular door is locked, but it's a fairly simple one; forcing it allows the door to be opened with a rusty, loud squeak. Despite the noisy, nothing reacts and everything otherwise remains quiet. A red light above the door does briefly flare into existence, but extinguishes itself just as quickly. A few crates lie out of the way, to one side of the loading door. They're empty, the tops pried off and tossed to one side.

Inside is a different story to the offices upstairs. Set up more like a warehouse, the large room is filled with equipment to move boxes and containers of varying sizes. Predictably, it's filthy in here. The floor especially is a mess of dirt and dust and goodness knows what else. Predictably the air is musty, but it still holds that ozone-y smell like the air upstairs does.

The centre of the warehouse is occupied by two dozen crates, each of them twelve feet high. Most of them are sealed, though more than a few have some loose boards and stuffing – hay and assorted odds and ends – sticking out or only half-packed. Nearby sits an active computer with an inventory program running and a working, though off, conveyor belt. Overheard a crane's claw hangs. Further along the crane's track and within reach of the claws is a pyramid of smaller wooden crates; several on the top are not properly sealed. As above, it seems when the place was abandoned it was done so hastily, but not without putting everything into order. Almost.

At the far end of this warehouse, the floor dips into a ramp. The end of the ramp is blocked off by a very large, thick steel door. No lock on this one, but then it isn't easy to open, either. Not physically, at least, by the people who worked here.The floor surrounding the ramp has been reinforced with a steel walkway and on the far end of this walkway there are transparent glass doors. Just peering through them makes it obvious they connect to the office building proper. Probably through a long hallway. Between the doors is a large console of some kind, and a flat screen monitor mounted to the wall just above it.

Pepper Potts moved to stand as the Quinjet settled, pressing her hand to the COACH symbol on her bag. Eight seconds later, Rescue is stepping out of the Quinjet with a lighter step than Iron Man, but still by no means stealthy. The AI linked to the suit scans everything, flagging noteworthy items on the HUD in front of Pepper's vision. "Scanning for thermal signatures, Miss Potts," the AI says for her ears only.

"Let me see if I can get those doors to open," Pepper's electronically distorted voice says to the others at the same time as her unmodified voice can be heard over the comm links and she crosses the loading dock area toward the large console and flat panel display. Fingers crossed.

The Wasp is already shrunk down and with a ear bud already fitted into place, the small device fitting in her tiny ear as it's made on a much smaller scale than what others might use as part of their equipment. Once shrunk past a certain point her tiny wings 'grow', manifesting in a sheen of irridescent membrane not unlike what makes up the wings of a dragonfly or other similar flying insect.

Pepper's flitted after, her wings buzzing near silently, Janet nothing more than a little bug for all intentse and purposes. Nevermind that she only has four limbs instead of six and looks really like a tiny, one-and-a-half-inch tall person.

"Yer our valuable translator. Tell the other team to forward you any documents they find to you," Wolverine told Pepper before take-off had happened. Jarvis was the best recon tool for this mission if translations were needed. Even a meat shield like him knew that.

Wolverine didn't bother to take a few sniffs once they landed. All of the get turbines created a particular smell. It was useless to try and look for anything until they were inside. All of the crates had nothing about them. They lacked any insignia. What few smells they had seemed too sterile for lack of a better word. Ozone and metal were the only scents the crates gave off. Putting his wrist near his mouth he spoke low, "Something's off bravo. Weapons give off their own scents. These aren't givin' off much. Everything's too pristine. Stay sharp. Wolverine." Waiting for a second he responded again, "Alpha, something ain't right. Everything's too pristine down here. Stay sharp. Wolverine out." Cautious steps were taken and Logan looked to Pepper the monitor was her show.

WwDD (What would Danvers do?) Karla likes to consider things like that before proceeding. She dismounts the transport smoothly and rapidly. She starts to turn back for Pepper, but when the suited up version comes out, Karla just shifts her shoulders and continues forward. A bit of a nose twitch and the filthy assignment and she takes but a couple of steps before taking to the third dimension in gentle slow accent. She spins about is search spiral as she rises above the bigger objects. Then she just shifts to a gentle forward decent to catch up with the others, though not actually meeting the floor. She just settles back down, for the moment she will observe.

Inside the VP of Finances' office is exactly what one might expect to find. Particular records, and a computer that's handily already turned on and not password protected. Everything is labeled and easy to locate, both in the physical files and the computer database – and many of the companies listed as buying things from them are known to SHIELD as shell companies. Most of them for some less-than-savoury customers.

Eventually, however, a few things become obvious in the offices – at least the VP offices. Primarily, there's a bit of repeating information. Financial records are often in the neat piles stashed in various spots. The same interoffice memo about systems testing – 'they need more from the source' is repeated in various spots on this memo.

As the agents walk down one hall, one of the flat screens mounted on the wall lights up. Images, taken moments ago – as in exactly as they passed through the rooftop entrance - show up:

IDENTITY CONFIRMED: Tony Stark / Iron Man. No armour detected.

WARNING! UNKNOWN INTRUDER: A picture of Katsuko.

WARNING! UNKNOWN INTRUDER: A picture of Shrinking Violet.

IDENTITY CONFIRMED: Carol Danvers / Captain Marvel.

IDENTITY CONFIRMED: HENRIETTA BLACK. SHIELD AGENT.

The rest of the flat screens down the halls, from the main hall down to the armoury, and around to the security room and the CEO's office, reflect the initial images. Despite the seeming label as 'intruders' there's no footsteps. Nothing. Still with the deathly silence.

"Sweep security." comes Katsuko's soft voice over the comms, as she nods towards Danvers, trusting the other woman to give a shout if she needs more than herself to handle it. The masked ninja sweeps to and through the armory, and quickly snaps off a half-dozen or more photos of the weapons she finds inside, sending them off to the analysts. "Stark, you might want to check this out. If any of this works, it doesn't look like anything I've seen in the files." That done, however, that leaves things free for others to sweep those offices and start checking computer and hardcopy files. They need intel and a lot of it, and they need it fast. She agrees, this is a setup. She's just not sure what the trap is, yet. And she cannot allow that to spring closed on her teams. She won't.

“Bugger.” Henrietta says it out loud since, it would seem, the time for stealthy subterfuge has passed, replaced by sirens and her photograph flashing on monitors around the executive offices. She’s not much of a destroyer of firewalls and databases herself, but happily there are plenty aboard the Argus that are who have done their bit for the cause in advance. She slots a jump drive into a USB port on one of the computers, unleashing whatever bit of code Agent Tennant has come up with for attacking and decompiling their systems.

And while that’s going now seems like a good time to make sure she’s fully equipped, with her H&K .45 compact in one hand and one of the sleek, spherical SHEILD-issue smoke-and-concussion grenades in another as she makes her way back out of the office and along the hall to back up Katsuko and the rest of the team. “I have the distinct feeling that we’re gearing up for something here... both here and below, to judge from what Logan radioed. Any thoughts on what shape our doom might take?” She asks, her head turning left and right in smooth sweeps without pause.

Shrinking Violet just keeps shaking her head again and again, until finally her voice comes over the comms unit. "I don't like this. Nothing's... nothing is right. Or everything is... I've never seen anywhere look this... Normal.". Salu was helpless to describe it any other way. "Someone know's we are...", she begins, and then her eye's catch one of the screens. The final word is almost whispered. "...here.".

With a quick step back, Violet is gone. She has shrunk well below anyone's range of vision. Drifting about the microverse, she pulls out her omnicom and touches it to the small device, working on an interface. Once through the floor, she touches down in the security room, glancing over the monitors. "Uhm... Guys? They're watching us. I mean... their setup is keyed to our entry points. I think they knew more than just we were coming."

Tony Stark: Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. looks around, holding his gun like he learned on the range. He looks up to find his image on the screen, and sighs. "Man..I can't even go on a dangerous mission without paparazzi taking my picture." he looks back and forth along the hallway, "I dunno..probably something, big and ugly and on entirely too much human growth hormone." he smirks, "Should be fun."

The console is surprisingly (okay, probably not) easy to access with JARVIS' help. Easily in fact, to the point where JARVIS will be able to tell Pepper that the console is connected to one thing – the door and the door alone. As if it was constructed solely to get someone to open the door. Some distinctly mechanical noises can be heard, and then slowly the doors below start to open. The flatscreen mounted to the wall above and behind Pepper flickers on. At first, it simply shows a swirling, red portal-like opening which could easily be mistaken for a screensaver. Then it winks out, only to be replaced by images like above:

WARNING! UNKNOWN INTRUDER: Rescue.

WARNING! UNKNOWN INTRUDER: Ms. Marvel.

WARNING! UNKNOWN INTRUDER: Wolverine.

IDENTITY CONFIRMED: Janet van Dyne.

Finally the door opens. And it remains perfectly open. The room beyond the door is about the same size as the warehouse, and the smell of ozone is even stronger. At the very rear, a circular red glow can be seen and two computer consoles can just be made out. JARVIS can confirm that these are not connected to the current console. Electricity is clearly running to them, however, so they must be for something.

Like the warehouse, crates are stacked around here, too. Some small ones, some big ones. These aren't all sealed, either. These have lids that were forgotten, and show what Logan found before, and Katsuko found in the armoury – strange-looking guns that superficially resemble an AK-47, save for an extra attachment that seems to be, for all intents and purposes, a bottle holding bright lightning. One of he big ones is open too; difficult to tell in the gloominess, but a faintly humanoid shape lurks within – human-like if one can ignore the rounder shape and the 12 feet in height.

Pepper smiles behind Rescue's faceplate when the doors start to open, but then when the flat panel display starts to spit warnings, she blinks. "Uh oh." Pulling one of those little disc-like devices Tony invented to help JARVIS help him hack systems (namely, SHIELD's), she steps over quickly and attaches the device to the display's frame. "JARVIS, backtrack this system and hack it. Take everything that looks even vaguely interesting and turn the rest into mulch."

"Immediately, Miss Potts."

One corner of her HUD shows the AI's progress on that as she steps back over to look into the newly revealed room and ...

"Uh... do I want to know what that is?"

Well! Imagine that. Janet's knwon. That gets the very tiny flying woman to frown as soon as she realizes she's been made... that is what it's called in pulp noir books and stuff, right? Been made? Well, doesn't really matter, honest. The important thing is that whomever is in charge of the information gathering has delved into the regestry records and knows who she is. "Guys, this is weird...." Frowning, she gives up on trying to figure out why or put her confusion into words, and simply takes to flying around instead, glancing here and there at the piles of crates and the very strange figure. "Uh... someone might want to come check this out..."

Helping himself to one of the weapons Wolverine looked over it. His eye peered down the scope. Everything looked in order except for the one difference. Whatever was connected to the gun. Taking a gamble he pointed the weapon to the floor, pressed the trigger for a moment. A flash of light struck the ground as it looked like the weapon spat out some type of energy or lightning. The kick back from the weapon wasn't as bad as the actual slug thrower. Putting his hand to his mouth, "Rescue. Run a diagnostics on the weapons. These ain't yer daddy's run of the mill hardware. Wire back info to Shellhead and The Boss," Wolverine was trying hard to keep up with code names to lower the rate of detection. Pressing a button on his communicator he waited, "Boss. Weapons ain't the normal run of the mill. Rescue'll send specs. Variation to the plan?" All the years as a soldier and weapon made the Canadian good on the field. While waiting for orders he grabbed another rifle and strapped it across his back. With his one free hand, the other held the rifle he fired, a "shnkt!" cut through the silence in the air. Crate lids were removed as he was off to find the BFG Model. Weapon makers always went for an infantry model, like the machine gun, and others liked to make big munitions that could punch through takes with ease. Wolverine wanted one that could give a tank a left cross without batting an eyelash.

Karla is no computer hacker, the object that looks like an over-sized powersuit gets her attention. Up and over she goes to begin, disassembling the large object. First head, then arms into a nice pile. Its is far to common a troupe in movies for the robot to wake up for Karla. Never leave a potential opponent behind, intact. Anything that does come off naturally will come off just the same, even if that means there is a screeching of steel tearing. "What do you know, nobody was inside." Karla comments, then looks for blood just to make sure that was true. Finding no carnage though she will toss the parts into a 'portable' size box. A little bit of note is take in the distruction as to if it was a mech, a robot, or most frightening, a simple suit of armor.

Armoury swept. Security room swept. Both are clear. But then, that's been the game so far, hasn't it? Everything clear, but everything left behind conveniently implicating the company in some pretty not-so-nice things.What does that leave? The CEO's office.

Through the double doors proves to not be the office itself – it's more like a reception room. A long black leather couch covers the righthand wall. Embedded in the floor in front of the couch are several small blue lights. The effect is essentially that the sitters get a spotlight on them. Similar lights are in front of the receptionist's desk, which takes up the entirety of the other side of the wall. No simple desk this, it contains a filing system built into the desk, a large monitor for a computer. Like the other monitors, it's not turned on, prominently displaying the same photos, and IDs confirmed/unknown that the other monitors outside are. From here, a single door leads to the CEO's office proper. The door is slightly ajar.

When the office is entered it's... well, pretty office-like. Large, expensive taste in decorations, paintings, furnishings. There's a large, high-backed chair, which is turned away from the door, pointed towards the rear wall.. which is, really, just an enormous window, giving a lovely view of the city outside. The left most wall has another one of those flatscreen monitors that both Alpha and Beta are beginning to loathe. This one, however, has a map of the world. Various countries are highlighted, with arrows pointing and names listed. Photos are included, some of a woman, some of a man. Despite hair styles, colours, and eyecolours (contact lenses?) they all appear to be of the same duo.

Jennifer Booth – France – Operation: ?

Cameron MacKinnon – United Kingdom – Operation: ?

Temperance Travis – Belgium – Operation: Stormguard

Marvin Murdock – France – Operation: ?

Eustace Dufresne – United States – Operation: ?

Gavin Travis – Belgium – Operation: Stormguard

99.9 PROBABILITY OF IDENTITY: MARIA HILL, DEPUTY DIRECTOR OF S.H.I.E.L.D.

99.9 PROBABILITY OF IDENTITY: RUPERT STONE, AGENT OF S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Neither of them came with you, did they?” The voice seems to be coming from the chair. So much for the drones not detecting anything. With the voice comes the feeling of a sudden shift. No actual movement, but there's... a shift in the air. And the smell of ozone comes even more strongly, if possible. And far down the hall? Bootsteps. Marching.

"Alpha to Control. We have incoming, and what I assume to be a projection of some sort here to taunt us." A flicker, and images of the other screens are snapped and sent off to SHIELD analysts aboard the Argus. Katsuko does not attack the chair, because her assumption right now is that there's no one there. Not really. The threat to her team would be the boots coming down the hall. "Light it up, people. Stark, take cover." If he's not going to suit up like Potts did, then he's going to be ordered around like a squishy almost-civilian, for his own safety. "Beta, trap sprung, repeat, trap sprung." She slips into the hallway, leaving Danvers' firepower to cover the hallway door as she advances towards the enemy, a combination of stealth, speed and lethal intent. This ninja is going to pick a fight. If nothing else, that should slow up the enemy os her team can extract out through those giant windows into the quinjet for evac.

Henrietta’s training has her moving in tandem with Katsuko as the team advances into the last bolthole on the upper floor. When Katsuko is looking right, ‘Etta is looking left, and between the two of them they close on the chair with its back turned towards the hall. Without, it should be noted, straying into any of the mysterious puddles of blue illumination.

It’s all rote, ingrained behavior until ‘Etta actually gets into the office and gets a look at the screen not flickering through their collective faces. Because... the man and the woman both look awfully familiar to her, despite the subtle variations in hair and eye color. One she bunks next to on the ship, the other she spends most days filing reports for. And then Katsuko is radioing an update and moving to intercept the sound of approaching boots and Carol is covering the door. ‘Etta glances towards Tony, not famed for his fondness for orders, to try and get a sense of what he’s likely to do and says, “Worst case, we’ll be investigating the possibility of leaving that way.” She says with a nod towards the expansive plate glass window. Still readied, she edges back along the wall of the room to get a look at both the window and the other side of the chair that, according to the drones, is empty. Which, to judge by the fuzzy hologram ‘seated’ there, is technically true. She studies his profile intently for a long second before moving off at a quick clip towards the sound of oncoming boots, just behind Katsuko.

"Security room cle.. Hey. Whats that?" comes Salu's voice, a little distractedly. They were in a trap, that much was clear but, something on two of the camera monitors catches her eye. She's transfixed just long enough for the comm to light up. "On my way!" comes the snap reply, and Violet was rapidly reducing onto the top of the security desk, then further until she was out of sight.

The electronics systems in the building would be a decently speedy road for her, simply following the signal straight to the security camera on the roof. Its coming down the stairs that the sound of boots catches her ear. Reducing to the size of a mouse, Violet makes her way into the ventalation system and flies along to the outer hallway, follwoing the sounds of footsteps in the hall, of marching, and sneaking peaks each time she passes a vent cover.

Tony looks over at the executive chair, and back to Maria, and back to the chair. See, this is one of the places Tony is more at home. The office. The CEO's office. He's probably made more of a home in one of these than the guy that sits in this chair himself, and Tony's willing to prove it.

Muttering to no one in particular, "Like Hell.." at the order to take cover. He makes his way to the desk and locates the keyboard. "How quaint." he says to no one in particular, and then cracks his knuckles and begins to show those assembled here just exactly who it was that made JARVIS the AI he is today.

The power armour isn't terribly hard to pull apart. One might even say it looks a little similar to the Rescue and Iron Man designs. It's rounder, though. Nowhere near as sleek. And taking a good look at things makes it obvious that the person controlling the armour 'sits' in the torso, rather than wears the armour itself.

“Understood,” Maria's voice comes over the comms, at Wolverine's check in. “Alpha's experiencing some problems. Keep your eyes open.” Problems. She plays it down because she's that sure of their abilities. What would it take for Maria to admit something was serious?

Inside the other room, just looking at that circular blob makes it obvious – it's a portal of some kind. Staring into it proves, too, that it's “open” in a way – there's an image of a lab on the other side, and of scientists putting things together. Weapons. Power armour. Either console to the side of this portal will confirm it – it was used as a magic window, a crystal ball of sorts, allowing people to see how things were done in another reality. Allowing the technologies to be copied.

Once everyone is in the room, a flatscreen on the wall – hidden by the gloom – turns on. It transmits exactly what Team Alpha saw above – the confirmation of Hill and Stone – and then shifts to a split view, showing what's happening in the office (including Tony immediately hacking the system) and the soldiers marching down to confront the group. The soldiers are clad in brown, carrying more familiar weapons. Bullets in these ones. No markings on them, however.

Through here, a wave passes through as well. The air becomes charged with that ozone smell. And then, quite suddenly, there are others. Ms. Marvel finds the armour she wrecked is replaced with a functional model, which promptly takes a swing at her. It's a little on the slow side, though – definitely not as fast as Rescue or Iron Man. At the entrance more soldiers appear, marching in rhythm, guns out and at the ready.

Rescue sees the sudden increase in activity and hears Hill's understatement about Team Alpha. And where does Pepper's concern immediately go? Tony. She was against their being separated, but she didn't get a vote in it, and now she just KNOWS she's being proven right. "JARVIS, find me a way to shut that portal down. Now." As she raises a hand to fire a repulsor blast at the power armor that just took a clumsy swing at Ms. Marvel, aiming to disable one of its shoulders, she has a secure comm line established to Tony's earpiece. "Tony? Are you okay?"

Going for cover Wolverine took aim and fired a shot. He was going for knees and other none lethal points.He breathed out trying to focus and make the shots count. Leaving htem alive was the key because they could be interrogated. Blue eyes focused with each shot trying to take out both knees, ust not one. "Take one or two with us! Interrogate em!"

It has been so very long since Karla got to vent at all. This suit though, she knows the design of, so she doesn't really have to worry about overkill on it. Still, chance for fun. Potts takes out for arm for Sofen, and is actually offered, "Thank you, excellent suggestion." Ms Marvel zips quickly behind it and takes out the leg servos with a pair of kicks, then picks up the body to begin charging it forward at the arriving mass while using it as a shield and letting the former driver experience all the joys of a psychotic rollercoaster. Of course he cold open it up, though then his buddies would likely be shooting him.

The Law of Conservation of Ninjitsu: The fewer ninja there are in a particular scenario, the greater their ability and potential in combat. This is most firmly demonstrated in an incident where but a single ninja is present. The proof of this law rather erupts through the hallway of the upper floor, as the figure of Katsuko, sprinting from shadow to shadow, comes across the marching soldiers. Between one long-striding step and another, gleaming silvery metallic tonfa seem to take form in her hands, as she explodes into their ranks with swift certitude and almost blurring speed and agility. Her strikes are brutal and efficient, shattering forearms, cracking skulls and breaking tibias (shin bones). She's a shadowy grey-clad whirling dervish of devastation. It's probably a mite disturbing to watch. But she is being non-lethal, while very thoroughly disabling her opponents.

'Etta’s a few feet behind Katsuko when she hits the tide of advancing men like a far more elegant version of the Tasmanian Devil. For half a second, its so breathtaking that she just watches with the barest hint of a smile.

But, there’s enough to go round. A second later and Etta’s lept up atop a desk, running from one to the next to the next and lobbing that concussion grenade she’s been carrying into the rear of the advancing crowd. There’s no fire, but enough force that a few bodies go flying hither and yon and a couple desks are overturned atop gentlemen who won’t hear much beyond ringing in their ears for the next week. Her now freed hand goes to her thigh holster, extracting a shock baton and flicking it to full extension with a little bzzt of sparks just before she leaps into the fray, all elbows and heels and the sizzle of disabling electrical current. Its not quite as elegant as Katsuko, but it gets the job done.

Shrinking Violet comes up alongside a vent to the exit corridor, and says over the coms, "I'll secure the roof corridor for extraction.". She didn't quite sound her usual timid self however. Her exprssion was certainly more serious. Turning and tumbling between the slats of a vent cover, she resizes once in the hallway, a rolling dropkick coming down on one soldiers rifle.

THWACK

Everyone turns inwards, most reaching for pistols in close combat, as Violet vanishes completely from sight. There's a brief, confused moment, before she suddenly 'APPEARS' flanking the group, delivering a spinning backhand strike. Stepping forward and throwing this man into his middle friend, ducks a pistol butt by shrinking, and regrows with her elbow up, knocking him to the wall.

The last two fire as she reduces from sight, backing up and fanning the hallway. Neither see her last regrowth, a sweepign heel kick that strikes one in the head, and knocks him into his companion. Both strike the wall, and slump down.

More cheerfully, her voice comes over the com. "Aaaand secure."

Meanwhile, Tony's off to Sae Tome to reboot the server, BRB! LOLHAX!

Tony looks frustrated, because the buffer between the keyboard and the machine can't handle him.

Seriously, he's got root user in less than three, moves. Check and mate. "So..where do YOU wanna go to day?" he says, talking to himself, not realizing the whole thing's being carried by his comm unit, which should also serve to answer Pepper's question, "You know, I told Bill and Steve the vulnerabilities in instituting root user access in their operating systems. No one everrr listens to the fat kid. No. Now look what happens. A fortune 500 company up to no good has to rely on that to keep their zero dark thirty activitives in the dark, and here I come..a big beautiful five million lumen spotlight to show everyone just how many cockroaches go scurrying into the corners when I roll in like a big, beautiful digital Jesus."

He keeps typing, and then brings up page after page of command strings, "Yes, Tony Stark is my sheperd. I shall not want. He maketh me lay down in root commands. He leadeth me beside the still disk arrays. He restoreth my superuser status, he leadeth me in the path of righteous hacks for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of overwritten data, I shall fear no format, for thou art with me. Thy keystroke colon double backslash execute command comfort me. Thoust prepare a triple striped six hundred petabyte RAID array before me in the presence of mine enemies: Thoust annoit my head with data. My portable drive runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the House of Stark forever."

And yea verily, even as Tony types, building systems begin to shut down. Environmental. Security. Systems. Backup systems. Everything. Remote command? Gone. Anything remotely powered? Likewise gone. Everything under Tony's command to the point where the prompt on the screen reads: Would You Like To Play A Game?

Tony sits back, laces his hands behind his head and grins like the cat who ate the canary. "Yes," he says, "Let's begin with Falken's Maze."

Rescue gets an earful of Tonybabble as an answer to her question and can only smile, especially once she sees JARVIS's indications that the building is being shut down a system at a time. She then uses her suit's repulsors to shoot forward, turn a very tidy dodge around the power armor that Ms. Marvel is marvel-handling, snags one of the gunmen by his arms, and swoops back out of the cavernous room completely, prying the weapon out of his hands before unceremoniously dropping him into one of the open crates full of packing fluff. "Looks like everything is under control here." Yeah. Sorry, Wolverine. She's NOT a trained agent. At least she only addressed the one person among them by a non-codename over a secure channel, right?

To be a nameless grunt working for the bad guy, tonight, is not a good day. Either your bones are snapped, or people are showing up outta nowhere and smacking you around. Or your armour's limbs are disabled and you're used as a shield to ram your buddies. Truly, this was not the company they should have signed up with. Maybe they had good dental. Needless to say, average mooks were not exactly the ones that should have been sent up against SHIELD Agents and Avengers. Definitely a poor choice. Especially with one of them a prisoner!

Not exactly a good day to be a computer, either. Not between Pepper, JARVIS, and Tony. Whatever remains of Sidewinder's systems here is absolutely mush once the three get through with it.

Maria Hill might not be reacting over the comm system either team can hear... but on another frequency, she's all but shouting at the pilots. The sounds of the Quinjets fill the air just outside for Team Alpha, letting them know their ride has returned. For Beta, it's dimmer, but it's definitely the roar of the Quinet's engines.

“Alpha. Beta. This is Hill. Your rides are there. Let's bring you home.” Normally she'd be, you know, reminding them to bring all the info back. But everyone now and then a little bit of concern leaks through. And that voce that taunted Alpha? She recognizes it. Enough to let her be concerned. Not that she'd admit to it, of course. "Good work everyone."