1963-07-10 - Fury Gets His Ducks in a Row
Summary: Nick Fury calls some people in to let them know how it's going to be in the Avengers.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
howard sam poindexter fury steve 


Steve Rogers had the meeting with Director Carter late last week. He took the weekend off to think, hang out with Brian, draw, and sit in the park. All things considered, it was pretty nice.

He still needs to touch base with Banner as well as the kid from Queens (The Spider-Kid), as well as the members he's also wanting to pull in.

But first and foremost, he'd probably better discuss matters with the boss, Nick Fury. He comes in at what he thinks is an extremely early hour (as is his modus operandi) but by the time the door opens on the SHIELD Headquarters, the rooms are bristling with energy.

"Mornin' Cap," says a blonde with a neat suit. "Oversleep?"


Between a couple of days ago and now, Fury actually has his own little corner of the universe. A single large filecabinet, lockable and flameretardant (asbestos is just as good as concrete!) and a desk and chair. The phones… those are actually kind of impressive.

That isn't where Nick Fury can be found, however. He's in the halls, waylaying the occasional agent coming through, asking questions. Some, well… try to slink past, but like Sauron's Eye (it was published by then!), the single eye of Nick Fury sees all. Or seems to.

"Next time you hear anything about it, I wanna know. But right now, I wanna know the moment Rogers arrives."


Nick, while not mollified, does take the response at face value as he stalks off.


"No.. no no no no.." Dr. Pinkerton fusses. "..now you well know that -that- chair is too big! I ordered the chair to my specifications! I do not want that chair!" Busy is as busy does, Dr. Pinkerton held a clipboard against her chest as she watches the worker bees with cold calculation. Or perhaps she was daydreaming a dream. One really couldn't tell, with her. "Nevermind, I'll make due. Put it into my office post haste and please send Agent Dolliver to my presence at once."

The little woman lets out a resigned sigh as she takes a turn away from the moving of furniture, her eyes alighting as she spots Captain Rogers being addressed so kindly. There was a little smile, perhaps for one so strange as she takes a skipping step towards the infamous man with a hand raised, mouth open to speak.. but.. nothing comes out.

"Uh.. 'scuse me. Sorry.." She mutters towards the Captain and the man, turning upon her heels to follow the sound of Fury's voice and his backside. "Agent Fury!" She calls after, at least attempting to catch him before he departs.


Off to one side, Sam Wilson is sitting with a small group of test pilots, most of whom are wearing bandages, and in a couple of cases, slings. "You have to understand how little these things weigh," he's explaining. "You have to be responsive to the feel of the air. Wind currents, thermals, high pressure pockets — they'll knock you around, and if you fight it too hard, you'll shear a wing off. It's not a city bus you can just steer wherever you want to."

The group of pilots he's addressing are the established stars of the SHIELD testing program. Decorated aces, most of them, and white to a man. Some of them look merely skeptical, others downright hostile. It's pretty clear that Wilson isn't getting his message across nearly as well as he'd like, although it's very well hidden how that makes him feel.

"I'd really rather we don't have any injuries today," Sam says levelly. A couple of the more receptive pilots have the decency to look embarrassed.


Steve nods towards Dr. Pinkerton as she seems to be the first one he notices after his quick interlude with the blonde. "Morning," he says absently, not quite sure if anyone will notice or if anyone is listening. They sure seem busy. But there's a familiar face. Cap notices Sam as he's talking with the test pilots and figures he'll go over and say hello. In all, he looks sort of lost here. Everytime he's been here it's been pretty quiet.


Nick catches his name, and mid-stalk, he pauses in his step and turns about with a single move, standing. "Doctor?" Just beyond her, is Sam and … there he is, the shining boy of the day. One of Fury's closest friends and teammate from years past. His smile creeps mid-way before he issues a sharp whistle. It's likely a sound Steve will recognize easily.

A step forward, back the way he came is taken, and as he moves, Nick is addressing the good doctor again, "Finding your lab to your liking?" Beat. "Wilson, if you have to put feathers on those damned experimental wings, then do it.

"Steve. My man… been hearing that you've been busy." A hand is extended to the lost man when he finally reaches him.

"Actually," and now Nick is looking at the three just addressed. "My office. We need to chat."


Her feet skid to a stop as soon as Fury does as well, her breath held in that moment, shoulders drawing back and eyes widening as she checks the smile and inhales. It was a wheeze of one, surely she's not asthmatic but in between him, and Director Carter, she was beginning to get a little touch of PTSD.

"Yes. The lab is most wonderful. In fact, I wanted to speak to you to express my gratitude in helping procure it." As tall as Nick was, Anna had to practically trot just to keep up. It was like being in a room full of legends, with Fury stops, she stops.. her hand lifting to wave towards Sam with an obscenely huge grin and one to the Captain as well. Gosh! She had -so- much to ask the man! Purely for the sake of science!

"Sir?" Dr. Pinkerton asks of Fury, the smile soon dropping as she puts on her business face. If there was a chat to be had then there's going to be a chat, and she was truly grateful for the invitation.


"Morning, Rogers," Sam says with a smile and a wave as Steve approaches. Taking note of the man's bewildered expression, he offers, "I might be able to help you out if you're looking for someone specif— oh." Fury, as usual, has no problem making his intent clear.

The little group Wilson is addressing couldn't have a more obvious shift in their demeanor at the appearance of the World War II heroes. Backs straighten; faces become focused. It's almost funny how much the shift makes them look like they're imitating Wilson.

"We've got a working test model," the pilot answers the Sergeant, standing and straightening his suit. "Some of the other men are just having some trouble adapting to its… quirks." Judging by the various injuries they've incurred, Pinkerton might have a pretty good idea just how much trouble there has been. Turning back to the group, Wilson says, "Enough from me. Go get suited up and see what you can work out in the field. I'll join you once this meeting is finished."

The pilots quickly disperse, but aren't quite able to keep their eyes off of Steve and Nick. Sam, however, extends his hand toward Annamena. "I don't think we've properly met," he says politely. "Sam Wilson?"


Steve waves to Sam as Nick approaches, and then smiles as his old war friend approaches. Steve grasps his hand with gusto and slaps his arm with his other. "Yeah, we can chat. That's actually why I came in this morning." He looks to follow Fury wherever it is the one eyed man leads, and sticks his hands in the pockets of his brown trousers. All this business about training and labs are new to him; he's not able to really put things into specific context, yet.


If Nick has noticed the straightening of soldiers, he makes no mention of it, no notice apparently taken. Instead, he's clasping his friend's hand, the second hand covering the first before releasing and turning around to gesture in the direction of his new little 'home'. It's not large by any stretch, and it's not marked, but that is more than fine with him. After all?

Nick really isn't with SHIELD anymore. Not really.

"A few minutes of your time, doctor." It doesn't sound like a request, but merely, an explanation of how long it'll take once she's there.

Sam's response gains a quick nod, "Good to have quirks ironed out. Actually it's good to keep 'em in. Makes it harder for the other guy to fly it, just in case." Never give your enemy your gun, as it were.

Nick leads the pair to his spartan office; not even a picture is hung yet, and should they all arrive, he'll nod towards the door from his spot behind the desk where he'll stand. "Close the door, please."


"Well of course we haven't properly met. But I have heard all about you and it is truly an exciting pleasure!" Anna states proudly, though her eyes have gone to the lines of soldiers and testers with a slight little frown. One of them has a hitch in his back that could do with a little cracking, though her own version of cracking is laying her victim down upon his belly so that she could stomp on his back until he submits.

Sam's outstretched hand was clasped, limp wristed and flimsy, but shaken with a sort of strength that seemed to excited and happy despite the calm look upon her face. "Dr. Annamena Pinkerton. Research, Medical and Development." There! Introductions were made. She pulls her head back and nods, angling to follow Fury close behind, her sidelong gaze towards Steve has her drawing slightly in his direction to speak in lowered words. "Chin up. It's not -all- that bad."

Once they were in the safety of the office, the good Doctor hangs by the door so that she could close it once everyone has found their space. A few minutes.. last time she heard that she left angry. Which was another reason to speak with Fury.


"Pleased to meet you, Dr. Pinkerton," Sam says politely. His eyes do widen ever so slightly in surprise when she uses the honorific — a black American with a doctorate is rare indeed — but the shock seems to be a pleasant one.

Once Sam enters the room, he stops by the door and lets others pass, waiting to close it off behind them. It's easy enough to guess that this conversation might have something to do with the offer Fury made him; what he's speculating on now is what exactly the one-eyed man is going to ask of this group. Now that he knows Annamena's area of expertise, he starts to wonder if it won't be some sort of scientific experimentation: not totally unlike the vehicle testing he has been doing, and very much like the process that made Steve into Captain America.

Once everyone is situated, he takes a seat in front of the desk, nearby but at a respectful remove from the pair of old friends. "What do you need from us, Sergeant?"


Steve takes a seat and nods up towards Fury. He's been wanting to get this meeting in hopes of letting Fury know about some of the members he's going to be vouching for for membership. "Doctor Pinkerton?" he says as they have a moment before they begin. He offers her his hand as he leans over casually. "Steve Rogers."


Out from a darkened corner of the office stepping from behind a fold out section of cabinets is Howard Stark, dressed in his simple brown suit and tie, with the matching hat. His expression is rather flat as he puffs away at the glowing orange embers of his cigarette, looking across the room. "You know I could have sworn that tunnel was shorter last time I used it." Grumbled to himself as he closes the row of filing cabinets behind him. "Had this big dramatic reveal planned, and everything." Said as he moves over towards the desk.


Once everyone is in, Nick sits on the edge of his desk. "I'm gonna make this brief." His good eye settles on each person in the room, one by one. Sam. The good doctor. Steve. He pauses on the last before he catches the sound of shuffling, and when Howard emerges, the man will see a pistol aimed directly right between the eyes. For a long moment, the barrel lingers before he lowers his .45 slowly. Deliberately.

"Don't you ever fucking do that to me again, Stark." Ever. "Remind me to have that cemented up and boobytrapped in the tunnel. I swear to God." Did Nick actually just say that?! Yes, yes he did.

"Before I was so rudely interrupted, and stay put. Might as well hear this too," He means you, Howard. "Dr. Pinkerton, do you have any problems with being requested to pull double duty? I'm gonna need a doc I can trust, and right now, you're her." For his own reasons.

"For the rest of you, I'm gonna mention this now. Nazis are actually on their way here. I am on record with the Director that if one of 'em steps out of line, I'll put 'em down like the dogs they are. I just need one reason." Is that a request? An offer?

"Any questions about that? Concerns? Before I move on."


Once everyone was inside, Anna closes the door and locks it with a click. This seemed like the most important task, which nearly causes her to miss the greeting from Steve. There was a little jump from her, her footsteps quickly carrying her to his side, a grasp of his hand and a way too happy shake. "Dr. Annamena Pinkerton, pleasure to make your acquaintance!" But that was short-lived, the gun was drawn and Anna takes a leaning step back to cast a glance towards Howard. "Boss." She says to the man, a grand smile in his direction.

At Fury's words, she immediately nods her head. "I shall oversee the trapping of the boobies myself, Sir." Stalwart as ever! "Triple duty, it seems now, Agent Fury." But she offers nothing else, for there was a clear and unbridled wince in her features as her lips purse into a thin line. And nothing else was offered until the entire situation was in the clear.


When Nick lowers his weapon, Wilson exhales slowly, then leans over toward Dr. Pinkerton. "You'll get used to that sort of thing," he murmurs to her with a touch of the dryest humor imaginable. He glances at the pair, then back to her and adds, "From both of them."

As for his audible response, he simply answers, "I haven't been officially briefed, but I've heard a lot about it." He offers a small shrug, and an unusually pointed comment: "Sometimes I forget that some people have to import Nazis to be stuck working with people who think they're less than human." Maybe he's more at ease around this group than most.


"Sir, Director Carter and I had a discussion about the Nazis being here. I'm not really comfortable with the idea," Steve says as he fiddles with something on his boot. "Hey Howard."

"I'm not sure who thinks this is a good idea, or why, or why in the world they think our particular group would be alright with it. You think that if it was that big of a deal to them they would have used another group of people."


Howard pauses for a moment looking at the gun as for a moment before looking back to Fury not faltering for even a moment on the outside. He's been shot before, it hurts like hell sure but he's fairly sure Fury would go for a debilitating shot before a proper shot to the skull… he silently hopes so anyway as he moves back over with cigarette in mouth puffing away.

That pure unadulterated confidence held down stoic for when he's on the clock in full swing. Even with his deadpan humor. "Next time I'll use the chimney." Said in a dead serious voice despite there not being a chimney. He gives a nod in the direction of the group a pause as he tips off the ash from his PREMIUM CHESTERFIELD CIGARETTES THE TASTE THAT CAN'T BE BEAT. His own expression staying cold as stone as he turns for the brief.


Dr. Pinkerton gets a long look at her response and he holds it for a three-count before he's moving on. Nazis. Yes.

"Yeah, I'm not real happy about it. As I said, I've said my piece on it, and if there are bullet holes in their heads, Director Carter knows to come to me." Because if he did it or not, he'll take the fall for it. "Am I clear? But, I don't want to just wander in and find out that bit of information. I wanna know first."

Nick looks at the good doctor again and he nods in her direction, "I know that you're gonna be working with them more than we are, which is another reason why I want you in my corner."

For all, Fury looks first again to Steve, then the rest. "Mutants." It's a word he dislikes, not because of the people behind it, but because of the name itself. "Steve, I don't know if Director Carter mentioned this, but we want them. On our team if need be. Now, I have a contact into that world, if it's needed, but extending the hand of friendship isn't a bad thing. And with you being the team Commander," Nick makes sure he gives that a mention, just in case there's any question, "It's up to you to find the right ones. I trust you on this, but I might put a couple of names into the pot for you to look at a little closer than most.

"Which brings me back to Dr. Pinkerton. You will now have a reason to study said 'abnormals'. Mutants. It's to keep them alive and safe. To take care of them should they become injured in the line of duty."

Nick looks to Sam, and he pauses, "I want to know your thoughts on this too."

Howard, though? Nick looks at Stark before he deadpans, "I'll make sure there's a fire in the fireplace, Santa." He wiggles a finger, "In payment to my almost spending a bullet and having to account for it.." A cigarette.


"Right away, boss," Steve says giving a solemn nod. "It'd go a long way to helping out the people in that community. I mean it's not just Mutant Town in this city, it's everywhere. I think it'd do some good. Additionally, sir, I don't know if the director talked to you about the two others, in addition to Brian, that were coming on. There's a Spider-kid in Queens."


"And Banner."


Anna takes Sam's words to heart. "I do hope so.." She mutters to the young man, watching the two of them with stark interest. GET IT?! STARK INTEREST! But with no proper place to take a seat, Annamena takes to settling down upon the corner of the desk; a hop up and a jump to plant herself down to allow her feet to swing ever so briefly. It was all noted and nodded, her lips curling into a faint frown. Do not get angry, Anna. It wouldn't do anyone good.

"Yes. Side by side. Specifically with one Armin Zola. Which I intended to speak with you about, Captain Rogers." Pardon her boldness. But this was serious. But there was a team mentioned and Annamena was intrigued, her eyes alighting upon each and every one of them and soon finally Fury. "Really?" One could almost see the greed in this. And a really odd hopefulness that perhaps they just may wind up dead before she could get there. Then study, study, study! All in the name of science, honestly.

"There are going to be a few more things that I may require. But that is neither here nor there." And she shuts up. The others were speaking and she gives a long look towards Steve, her brows furrowing. "You mean Dr. Banner. -The- Dr. Banner." Holy shit. "You've made contact? Is he well? I do not know of the man personally but his exploits are phenominal in the scientific world. His dissertations are a wonderfu—.." She stops herself with a gentle lift of her hand to her lips, clearing her throat.

"Pardon me."


The talk of this 'Banner' doesn't mean a thing to Sam, so he just answers Fury's question instead. "I haven't got any problem with mutants. Not familiar with many, either, but I don't see a reason that can't change," Sam answers, his tone businesslike. "As long as we're treating them as well as the rest of us, I've got no objections."

He shrugs. "As for Paperclip? If anyone's going to handle it, we're the best equipped," Wilson points out. He's being surprisingly even-handed about SHIELD bringing on Nazis, and he seems aware that he's voicing a minority opinion simply by being moderately against the project rather than hardline. "Honestly, the fact that everyone here is so against it is probably a plus. That hostility means we won't start trusting them, thinking of them as any old coworkers, anytime soon." He shrugs once more and concludes, "I might not like it, but it won't be the first thing I haven't liked being ordered to do. Doubt it'll be the last, either."


With a slight motion of his hand Howard offers Fury one of the delightfully relaxing cigarettes. Just as a passing fig leaf offering. He's silent but begins pacing somewhat at the mention of banner. There's not a word mentioned about it but it's clear he's thinking about something.

"I've killed my share of Nazi's in my time." Howard mentions after a moment pausing in his stride. "Intentionally or otherwise." A light pause. "I've seen what they've been able to do first hand, and while I agree we shouldn't let them come home with us," There's a long pause before his next comment a look back towards Fury. "We need them to beat Russia to the punch." The words are spoken with a complicated undertone that says more then the language alone allows. He doesn't like this any more then the rest of them. It's the first time he's really looked closer to his age since coming back, in the eyes, that worn down look hidden past the confidence, an uncertainty.


"She did not, but that really isn't my concern at this point. It's yours. Mine is operations. Yours is to find the men to make it work, and then get back to me about the success of the operation." Failure is not an option. Not in Nick's book.

Howard's offer of a cigarette gains a nod from the large black man, and he reaches for it and pulls out a pack of matches at the same time. Deliberate moves, all of them. The cigarette is lit, and the match is waved out and tossed into an ashtray off to the side. A long pull is taken, and slowly, the smoke exits.

"Dr. Pinkerton, these are human beings you'll be working with." It's a statement. "One of them I rescued from a concentration camp years ago. I don't like Nazis, and I sure as hell don't want any of our people acting like they're some sort of freak to be studyied. You are to look at them with the eye of being able to do your utmost best to first cause no harm." Nick is making sure he's clear on that count.

Sam gets a nod from the man and a quick tight smile. "Fair point."

It's Howard, however, that bothers Nick the most. He looks at the other man for a long moment, and when he draws another pull from his cigarette, he's considering. At the finish, smoke exits as he speaks. "Stark. You really think we need those assholes? You've got more fucking money than god. You practically came back from the dead, and at the moment, I only know a couple of people who actually pulled that off. I have no doubt that you could pull a goddamned space capsule out of your ass given a day, but if you think the Nazis can help, I'm going to look for a higher standard coming. Because my people need it, and they deserve it."


"Yeah, it's that Banner," Steve says towards Pinkerton with a nod. It's good that someone else sees how good his potential as a scientist is. He thought it was going to be like pulling teeth getting that guy on the team (and the heat off his back), but so far Carter, Brian, and Fury have been pretty accepting of the idea. That's a good sign.

"Yes, sir," Steve responds towards his directive.


Anna doesn't reject his stance of the mutants being human. Perhaps, when it was put so plainly, she understands. "I have recently undergone SHIELD's sensitivity courses, Agent Fury." She hesitates to admit. "I will say and promise that I shall take my hypocratic oath as I take living and breathing. You shall not have worries from me. No harm will come unto them." Speaking of. "Sam. Send your men to me as well? They look worse for the wear." She inhales, then exhales. Then is silent.


"They could use the help," Sam answers with a slight frown, nodding at Dr. Pinkerton. "So far, no one has been able to handle the flight rig properly. I don't know if it's because I was working with it straight through the testing process, or I've just got an instinct of it, or what." He looks over at Howard with an apologetic expression and shrugs. "The rig works, they just can't seem to get the hang of flying it."

That said, Wilson glances around the room, then slowly crosses his arms. "Sergeant Fury, if I may ask…" he says hesitantly. "We're putting a team together, but we haven't got a mission. I'm not even really sure we've got an opponent — at least, not one that we know about. Once you've got this group assembled, what are you going to have us do?" r


Howard leans back against the filing cabinets again. The slow glow of the embers in his mouth shining out on his face as he finally stops his pacing. Smoke rolls out of his mouth as he takes the cigarette from its corner his expression emotionless and focused as he works with his thoughts. Though there is a look towards Fury, a silent glance almost speaking in a code just from the slight motion of his right hand as it taps light onto his pocket shifting before going into the pocket.


"Right now, our operative is to actually identify possible team members. Captain Rogers has been mandated to create a multi-reactionary force in case of eminent threat. Once we have a wide enough and varied enough team from which to pull, you will be given a mission that I have no doubt you all will pull off with little difficulty. That said, there are enemies out there that are beyond the scope of which we can successfully counter." Nick looks to everyone, before his gaze lingers on Howard for a long moment, and he's talking again.

"This is why I want contact with these people outside. Now, I was told there's a research facility outside the city limits, and I was told that there was a school. I'm willing to believe that it very well could be both. I have satellite film and I have a small team looking at the pictures in the hope of breaking it down to an area. Unless you all have an idea of where to look for these mutants to make contact."

Nick takes a final draw on the cigarette before he stubs it out on the ashtray and pushes it forward. "All I can ask is that you work together. Sam," Nick's going by first names, "You got this. Keep on. Steve, it's all yours. You know I got your back in all this. Something's not right, I wanna know and we'll raise hell until they can hear it in heaven."

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