1963-08-04 - Extranormal Threats
Summary: Sam Wilson questions Amadeus Cho in SHIELD lockup. Sousa drops by for a cameo.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
sousa amadeus sam 


Amadeus Cho is being held in whatever holding cell they have available for him. The holding cell looks pretty secure and it doesn't seem as if he's made any attempts at actually escaping. Fortunately, they didn't opt to keep him and Kirby separate. The young asian man is kneeling down in the cell currently rolling a tennis ball to a grey, fuzzy coyote puppy. The puppy yips in a high-pitched, happy tone, chasing after the ball that's still a bit too big to get his little jaws around.

It's somewhere around midday and incarceration is a boring sort of thing. Having Kirby in his cell is definitely a mercy. Cho had figured out how to escape his cell hours and hours ago, it feels like, but he hasn't decided to do that. Sometimes when looking for answers, it's best to get them from within the system, after all. "Get it, Kirby. Kill that ball." He laughs a bit at his puppy companion, shaking his head.

*

"If you're trying to get time knocked off your sentence for adorable puppy behavior, don't bother," Sam Wilson says, striding into the room with a plated midday meal. He's not wearing any particular uniform or insignia, just plain clothes, and could easily be mistaken for any low-level prison employee (…by most people).

"There are sentimental souls in SHIELD, but they aren't the ones in charge of prisoner release." He pops open his side of the little quasi-airlock that is the main way of moving things into and out of the cell and slides the tray into place. "You need anything else? Medications? Change of clothes? Toilet paper?" he asks as he snaps the letterbox hatch shut again.

*

There's a smile on Cho's lips at Sam's approach. The young man has been relieved of his high-tech suit and most other objects. He doesn't even have shoelaces. Apparently this is one of the most dangerous people in the known world. He doesn't seem to be in poor spirits or anything. "I'm going more for good behavior," he says. "I would have had to face the music eventually. I'm not going to tell you guys where Banner is because…I seriously don't even know right now. The man likes his privacy."

Cho stands up from where he was kneeling and walks over to check out what's for grub. Likely not the greasy fast food and sugar which is his normal diet, so his hypermind won't be working right soon enough. "Nah, they got me everything. I'm kind of surprised, actually. Always thought you guys were above the law and such, but no one's been…awful." He gives a shrug of his shoulders and takes the tray. "Your security's a bit lax, but I'm not going anywhere."

*

"We aim to please," Wilson answers with dry amusement. "If you've got suggestions for improvements in the security, we'll be sure to drop you a comment card." The idea of the SHIELD lockup being run like a homey bed and breakfast is something he seems to find funny, at least. Easier to do when you're on that side of the door.

"So, that's what you're in for? The bigwigs think you've got information that you don't?" He shakes his head pityingly. "That's going to put a real crimp in your plans. Not awful they might be, but they're patient, too. Until they're positive you don't have anything to tell them, you won't be going much of anywhere."

*

Another thin smile is offered to Sam. "Oh, I'm sure they'd love to hear all of my suggestions," he quips, raising his brows a touch to the plain-clothes man delivering food. "I doubt that's why they asked me here, though. It's not the likeliest reason. Howard showed up at the right place at the right time and brought me in. Probably to bring me to justice for aiding and abetting." There's a casual gesture with one hand then. "It doesn't matter. I do have things to answer for and I'd rather just do it."

"Too many people chasing me anyways." With a sigh, he moves back over to sit down and starts cutting little pieces of the meat on the tray. "I do have a couple of investigations to get back to, but I can wait it out a little longer. I do plan on cooperating fully, though."

*

Sam is supposed to be playing a part here, but something Cho said is enough of a shock that the mask slips, his eyebrows rising as his head tips forward. "Howard? As in Howard Stark?" he asks, disbelieving. "Howard Stark captured someone." This isn't just surprise at a famous name: Wilson is obviously personally familiar with Stark, and the idea of the gadgeteer getting his hands dirty enough to collar somebody is not jiving with his impression of the man.

Sam shakes his head and refocuses, a twitch of one lip betraying a bit of annoyance at falling off balance like that. "Anyway. Uh… I'm sure SHIELD appreciates your generous attitude," he continues. His 'cover,' such as it is, is basically blown, so he gets a little more direct with the questioning. "If you're cooperating, maybe let us know if anyone after you is enough of a threat — or has enough of a vendetta — that we should be watching out for them."

*

"Howard Stark," Cho states with a nod of his head. With a light laugh then, he gives a wave of his hand. "I could have slipped him if I wanted to, don't get me wrong. He didn't really so much take me by force as I sort of volunteered to come along. The kidnapping attempts by one Pythagoras Dupree, a former contractor of SHIELD's, were adorable at first. I don't have any reason to believe he's still associated with you, but…I'll be honest. I came here for information." There's a raise of a brow then and a slightly cocky smile on his lips. "I do mean what I say when I'm willing to do my time…or whatever." Pressing his lips together then, he looks from Kirby and then back to Sam.

"Pythagoras Dupree is like me, but ruthless," Cho explains. "Whereas I react to people messing with me or my friends, this guy's out for power." There's a pause in his tone and he considers for a long moment before speaking up again. "He killed my family trying to get to me when I was fifteen. To eliminate the competition. If SHIELD is leaving The Hulk in peace, the only vendetta I've got is with Dupree."

*

"Like you," Sam echoes with a measure of skepticism. He crosses his arms, and the pose emphasizes just how developed his arms and chest are; whatever this man does in his spare time, it requires a lot of upper body strength. After a second to think, he abandons pretense entirely, shifting to a no-nonsense, inquisitive tone. "I've read the Dupree dossier. You're telling me you're on his level?"

After a pause, he adds, "On his level, and without the… moral issues? Because a lot of experts seem to think you can't have one without the other."

Wilson takes a deep breath, eventually continuing, "What information are you looking for, exactly?"

*

There's a moment of consideration there as Sam speaks, his eyes squinting just a touch. "Well, he's been at the level for longer. I've run through a list of scenarios and knowing Dupree's psychological profile at least to a degree and the most likely reason he's trying to kill me is out of fear I have more potential…or something." Another shrug of his shoulders is given to the statement and he takes the little bites of meat and puts them on the ground for the puppy.

"We all have moral issues," Cho tells him with a lifted brow. "The United States has the nuclear bomb, but swears up and down it's only for defense. Skepticism is healthy and it's really up to the individual or individuals to decide on whether or not they want that person in their society. And I mean…no offense to your experts, but they're kind of stupid. And hypocritical because were they given the opportunity to be able to observe the physical world the way I do, they would take it in a heartbeat."

*

The corners of Sam's mouth lift as Cho finishes. "Yeah, no offense taken. I'd say more experts are full of it than not," he agrees, perhaps surprisingly. "Still, most people's moral issues don't involve false-front game shows used to lure in brainy teenagers and then murder them. You say your life has been leading up to a stay in a cell — maybe you'll forgive me for wondering how, exactly." Wilson's smile is wry and hard to read. "I mean, the positive reference on your resume is from a guy with the world's worst anger issues. I can't help but be curious."

*

Cho returns the smile a touch slyly and nods his head. "People are a bit more complicated than that. To be an expert on an individual, I would say you have to know that individual pretty well." Canting his head to one side then, he gives a gesturing with one hand. "The world's a changing place, though. Mutants, super science…" Again, he laughs and just gives a slow shake of his head. "The Hulk reacts to the aggression of others and, from what I've gathered, hasn't actually killed anyone. Destruction of public and private property…I'll give you that, but only as a reaction. How would you react if someone was hunting you down for the sole reason that you're different and perceived as dangerous?"

Amadeus clears his throat then and lifts a hand to cover his mouth briefly. "I helped him and he helped me, is what it boils down to. I still haven't…completely figured The Hulk out. Not entirely. But me?" Cho goes about mixing some of the rest of the food up while Kirby gobbles up the little bits of meat. "I'm not sure exactly what you have on Pythagoras. What I'll say is that I can do hudreds of trillions of complex mathematical equations in my head to map out every single quantum possibility in every given situation. I can see the forces and variables at work in the world around me and react to them."

*

Sam leans forward, bracing the back of one forearm against the clear partition that separates him from Cho. His eyebrows and lower eyelids rise in a wince. "You're seriously asking whether I can sympathize with being different and perceived as dangerous?" he asks, giving the superintellect a second to make the connection. "I did say it was a positive reference. I just want to know what you did to deserve a cell, in your own words. Call it hearing out both sides, if you want. I'm pretty sure it goes beyond not figuring the Hulk out, or we'd all be in there."

Straightening up again, Sam tucks his hands into his pockets. "That's a pretty impressive ability. But like you said, it's a changing world. Maybe I take a little more interest in what people are like than what they can do."

*

Cho laughs quietly and lowers his eyes for a moment. "I didn't want to use /that/ in some petty attempt to manipulate your opinion, but I definitely see your point. We should just call apples apples." Again, he smiles thinly at Sam and nods his head. "I ah, blacked out military communications, destroyed military property…" He considers for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "To be honest, I'm not sure what you know or don't know. The common belief is that I'm a terrorist."

"I understand the perception. I do. The best route for me to take at this point is just to cooperate so that I can clear my name a bit and maybe someone will understand why I was doing what I was doing." Amadeus feeds a little more meat to the puppy before digging into a bite of food for himself. "That's the best approach. It wouldn't make sense for me to say these things and in the same breath paint with a broad brush of what every SHIELD agent must be like just because of mistakes. I'm here mostly as a show of good will." After taking another bite, he gestures with the plastic fork towards the door. "Every thirty minutes, five seconds, and fifteen nanoseconds there's a power flux in the magnetic locks used to seal the door. If one were to provide exactly point three pounds of physical pressure to the door at just the right moment, one could ease the locking mechanism out without engaging the redundant mechanism. I could have walked out of here anytime I wanted to."

*

Hands still in his pockets, Sam regards Cho flatly as he takes several seconds to absorb that information in silence. Finally, he smirks and corrects the man in an amiable tone: "Well, at any thirty-minute interval you wanted to." He gives a low, quick laugh. "Still. Impressive."

He smiles and glances toward the door into the detention area. "A lot of us have done things we regretted." Another smirk, then he amends, "Or that got us in trouble, anyway. Your reasoning is that you bent the rules to protect a friend, I guess. You trust Banner?" He softens the frank question with the addition: "You're not the first person I've talked to who does."

*

Sousa actually went looking for Agent Wilson and was told that he was in the Detention center in a interrogation. That piqued his interest enough to send him to that area and to listen in outside the double-paned glass for a few minutes. He had no file on the man that was brought in so for the moment he was just going to listen and observe. When the name 'Banner' was brought up he stepped a little closer as if that could help him listen better.

*

"Right," Cho says with a laugh and a nod of his head. He continues eating while he listens to Sam, nodding his head in agreement with him. "Well, like I said. Better just to cooperate at this point and clear my name. I mean - I have things to answer for, but I think 'terrorist' is a little harsh. I was hoping to get downgraded to 'troublemaker' at least. Pay off my debt to society or…whatever they've got planned. I can't exactly deny sabotaging military operations or destruction of government property."

There's another nod to Sam then between bites of food. "Well. I can't put all the blame on SHIELD. I had my hand in it too, but I honestly was just defending my friend and making sure that no one got hurt. It doesn't change what I did, but I hope it provides context." The young man raises a brow at the question about Banner. "With my life," he says without any sort of hesitation. "Banner's a good man and The Hulk is a hero. Not saying he isn't flawed, but he does have control. If he didn't, there would be a…significant body count."

*

"I'll keep that in mind," Sam answers. "Both about Banner, and about you. If I hear about an opportunity for a terrorist who wants to upgrade to troublemaker, I'll give them your card." From the sound of his voice, he might already have such an opportunity in mind — but actually offering it is well above his pay grade. He shrugs, playing it off with a joke: "Of course, the contact information is just 'undisclosed location' and 'don't call us, we'll call you,' but hey — that's SHIELD for you."

*

He doesn't know the whole story, but what he's heard has him intrigues. Moving from the observation room, Sousa then raps on the door to the interrogation room and peeks his head in. "Agent Wilson…a moment?" He looks to the detainee and gives the man a nod, "We'll just be a second." It'll give the other a chance to finish his meal, certainly.

*

Cho nods to Sam again, smiling lightly to one side of his face. "There's a reason for secrecy," he says. "Thanks, for what it's worth. I seriously do appreciate it." Kirby is locked up with him at his fervent request, the little coyote puppy munching happily on some of the meat that he's cut up from his tray. When Sousa speaks up, Amadeus gives a nod of his head to him before letting the two gentlemen speak. Of course he goes back to his meal for the time being. He seems to be remaining cooperative now, though.

*

Addressed by a superior, Sam's easy demeanor evaporates. He's not upset or anything; it's just like he's been replaced by a totally different person: crisp, military, and efficient. He stands smoothly, inclines his head politely toward Cho, and answers Sousa, "Of course, sir."

After exiting the room and shutting the door — no listening, prisoner! — he asks Sousa, "What can I do for you?" He doesn't have any pending SHIELD projects, at the moment, other than the ongoing — well, 'continually failing' might be a better description — attempts to train other pilots on Howard Stark's flying suit. As a result, Sam is genuinely curious as to what Sousa might need from him.

*

"At ease," is offered with a bit of a smirk as he notes Wilson's military demeanor. A glance is given to the door, "Quick briefing…why are we questioning this guy and what does Banner have to do with it? Also, I wanted to talk to you. Not now, but soon." He then waits, leaning on his crutch for a quick assessment of the situation. "And why is there a dog in our Interrogation rooms?"

*

Cho seems mostly content to quietly sit and eat, though he does eye Sousa curiously in the process. While they speak, he continues to eat until he's left just enough on his plate for the small puppy that seems to always be accompanying him. "Alright, Kirby. Here you go." The remains of the tray are left on the ground for the moment so that the puppy can feast now. In the meantime, he's just got to wait for Sousa and Sam to have their conversation regarding the young man currently in lockdown.

*

"We're questioning him because he's got some extraordinary mental abilities, he's on our extranormal threats watch list, and he's an associate of Bruce Banner's," Wilson answers. He allows a smile at Sousa's 'at ease,' but the only real relaxation in his demeanor is that he drops the 'sir' from the end of every sentence. It's possible that the superior officer could eventually get Wilson to properly relax around him, but it would be a long, uphill battle. "As for the dog" — Wilson's face remains neutral, but his shoulders rise — "your guess is as good as mine. Apparently booking decided it wouldn't be a problem. Possibly to help pacify the man."

He gives the other man an openly curious look when he alludes to a conversation 'soon,' finishing, "Say the word, Chief. I'm at your disposal."

*

Sousa glances at the doorway, "Think he's an actual threat?" Everything else is considered and, while not dismissed, doesn't seem to be a reason to detain someone much longer. "Make sure you get his contact info…don't let him leave the country for now…" and the dog, well…"If we get a flea infestation, make sure we know who has to clean up the mess." That last bit is said with a grin.

Then, regarding the conversation, "Tomorrow good for you? Stop by my office when you get a chance." He then leaves the younger agent to continue the interrogation/discussion.

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