|
   |
Fort Jay is a star-shaped fortress on Governor's Island, just off the southern tip of Manhattan. It's known to be the home of a venerable U.S. Army base; less publicized is the fact that a few of its conference rooms have been given over to an ultra-secret investigation into missing nuclear warheads. The location on an island inaccessible by cars helps with privacy, while allowing non-SHIELD personnel to work on the project without compromising that organization's headquarters. It's hard to imagine a better test bed for this early trial of the Initiative.
Pleased with the progress of the investigation so far, Sam Wilson called in Director Carter; needing a comb with finer teeth to really zero in on a target, he's finally going to meet with his new teammate, the legendary (or infamous) Dr. Bruce Banner. At the moment, Wilson is in a neat but unobtrusive brown suit, leaning over the large conference table with maps and packets of paperwork fanned out on the table before him. He has a pencil in one outstretched hand, and is making notes in some sort of shorthand on the map, while referring to the paperwork every few seconds.
*
Apprehensive steps bring Banner to the conference room. Nothing about Bruce is intimidating. From the mop of curly brown hair on his head to the pair of tan penny loafers on his feet, the infamous Doctor Banner looks like a lab jockey. With his hands shoved into the pockets of his brown chinos his posture looks casual enough. His sports jacket, complete with elbow patches, has a single pocket containing multiple pens.
He lingers at the room's edge, not wholly convinced he really belongs here. Which is likely why he clears his throat. "Hello(?)," that same apprehension sneaks into the word that almost comes out as a question. With another couple of steps, he leans over to peek at the map, pushing the pair of spectacles higher on his nose. His jaw tightens and his eyes flit across the papers.
*
The Director has handed *much* of the lead up of this investigation to Division Head Sousa — maybe it was because of her own obligations to the greater organization, or maybe it was something else, but Peggy wasn't keeping her fingers entirely in this pie. Still, she was doing old fashioned analysis work with the rest of them, and did have to report back to the US Government on their findings, so she's come out tonight to collect the first round of reports.
The woman, for those who don't know her, might almost look unobtrusive. A middle aged matron with brown, waving hair, Peggy was somewhat attractive and just a bit soft around the edges for her age. But then she simply walked into a room, or opened her mouth, and that force of personality was undoubtable. She steps up behind Banner as the man hovers on the edge of the conference room. "Come in, come in. Neither of us bite, I promise." The British woman clips out, and then finishes crossing the rest of the way into the room herself. Tonight she's in a dark blue suit with a pale cream silk shirt beneath, her high heels clipping staccatto on the hard floor.
*
Wilson raises his eyebrows at Peggy's assertive entrance, letting out a short huff of amusement before finishing a little row of ticks next to a building and setting down his pencil. "Good to see you, Director," he says with a smile, straightening his posture and extending a hand toward Bruce. "And good to meet you, Dr. Banner. I'm Sam Wilson. I've heard a lot about you, and since we're in this mess together, I figured I should introduce myself." Wilson is young, and he's smiling, but there's an unmistakable firm core to his character, which is only emphasized by his general military bearing.
Whether or not Bruce accepts the handshake, Sam will gesture at the map with his other hand. "So, to get right to the point, Munoz found a former employee or two from each base that lost a warhead who relocated to Detroit or one of its suburbs. That fits perfectly with what Cho said about the materials for the fake bombs originating from the auto industry. Now we've got people checking out factories, from the biggest on down, posing as government inspectors. We're hoping to find holes in their inventory — same kind of paperwork errors whoever this was used to steal the nukes in the first place."
The black man pauses, glancing over at Banner. "Wait… you have been briefed on this, haven't you?" he asks. It's going to be really awkward if that's how Banner finds out the U.S. just misplaced more than a dozen H-bombs. Awkward… and potentially bad for the neighborhood's property values.
*
The handshake is accepted, and reciprocated with a strong handshake of his own. Apprehension doesn't kill his manners. "Good to meet you," his eyes squint, "Mister(?)," there's a certain air of please forgive me if you have another rank, "Wilson," he manages a tight never-touches-his-eyes smile, weary but present. He swallows hard and offers Peggy a small nod in turn. "Director," that same tight not-smile tightens his mouth.
Finally being drawn into the centre of the room, Banner eyes the maps and listens carefully to the words. And the words are followed by slow semi-ominous beeping from his wrist watch, prompting Bruce's not-smile to fade.
Bruce stares ahead, his mind working harder around the words, and the other guy, still safely tucked away in his mind begs to get out. Banner frowns. The watch beeps faster.
His throat clears and he lifts a hand, beckoning Sam to hold up. "No. I haven't," there's a curtness to the tone as the good doctor works to catch up mentally. "Jeez." There isn't any easy thought to pick up on, so Banner asks a questions over the most unsettling point so far, "Fake bombs?"
*
The fact that Bruce *hasn't* been briefed on this gets a highly lofted brow from Peggy Carter. The look at Sam is one which says someone dropped the ball on this. Of course, they were all working over time, completely stressed, half sleepless, and really concentrating on doing NOTHING but trying to track down 15 nuclear war heads. So, who could really blame someone if highly classified information didn't get out. Still, considering the file Peggy has on Bruce's condition, she does seem a bit wary.
The woman turns dark eyes on the scientist, keeping her voice calm and straightforward as possible, "A discovery was made last week that there are multiple missing nuclear missles from various bases across the US. However, the good news is that no one has used, threatened to use, or even made any indication that they have them — we probably have a decently good timeline to work with here. Also, Wilson's team has already done excellent work tracing things in a matter of days. While we could use your assistance on this matter, I am confident we've made great strides to solving it already." There. Maybe that will calm Bruce's emotional issues, even if it was a half load of the best bull plucky Peggy Carter could sling in thirty seconds.
*
Wilson's eyes widen. "Oh, Jesus," he says, formal mask slipping for a second. Then Peggy's soothing explanation reminds him that he has a job to do; he clears his throat and turns back to the table, shuffling through some papers and hurrying along with the conversation. "My apologies," he says, unearthing a map of North America and sliding it toward Banner. Fifteen locations in the continental U.S. have been marked with red ink. "We found a fake warhead that had been substituted for a real one. Once we knew what to look for, 14 more turned up," he continues, not sugarcoating the truth. "The thing is, those thefts were done very quietly. We don't think they expected us to pick up on it for another several months. They want to surprise us, which gives us an opportunity to surprise them, instead."
He glances over at Carter, affirming her statement with a nod. "Great strides is exactly what we've made," he agrees, turning back to Bruce. "With the help of your friend Cho and a few others, we've narrowed down the spot where the fakes were crafted to one metro area from, basically, the entire world — and that's just over a weekend."
He pauses, then chances some humor: "It was a very long weekend."
*
Banner holds up a single finger — a universal sign of hold up. The cogs in his mind turn and silence rules the day as it happens. Carefully, he slides his spectacles from his nose and sets the glasses down on the table in front of them. He presses his palms to his eyes and exhale a long slow breath.
The watch continues to beep. Slow and steady while Banner's eyes lid lightly, focusing as he does so. When his eyes open, his tone takes on a no-nonsense edge; no Peggy, he doesn't buy the story. Narrowed eyes with all the intensity of one of the world's leading experts in radiation are met with hissed speech: "You lost fifteen nuclear missiles." His eyebrows lift expectantly. "Fifteen. You can't talk about that like you misplaced your car keys. You can't speak about it casually or attempt to smooth it over with insistence that you've made WHAT… strides to find them." His jaw tightens. "I'm sure young Amadeus helped you. I'm glad your team is making strides Mister Wilson, Director Carter, but strides won't halt imminent nuclear holocaust." He raises another finger and takes a single step backwards. "And this. This is why I didn't want to do this." He takes a step away from the table. "No. When military gets their grubby little hands on technology they warp it so it's unrecognizable — this is not a responsibility they can handle. Clearly." By now the watch beeps at a nearly impossible rate. Banner drops his chin and pinches the bridge of his nose.
The beeping slows some.
*
It's a dangerous line to walk — Peggy would generally not let ANY other agent talk to her like that, but she also knows that getting in an argument with this man is probably a poor choice. She shares a look with Sam for a moment which says that maybe she's not thrilled they brought the scientist in, but she doesn't protest further. Then she's looking back in Bruce's direction and states quietly. "Yes…this is a large mess. And maybe the US Government *can't* handle this. But we aren't them. We are here to over SEE them, to keep a control on this and to clean up their bloody messes, which is exactly what we are doing. This is why the SSR no longer exists — because many of us agreed the US couldn't handle matters like this. Clearly nothing has changed except we're here to give oversight and assistance now. So, that is what we must do. Are you up to helping us, Doctor?"
*
After that shared glance with Carter, Wilson looks back at Banner, one eyebrow rising. "We didn't lose anything, Banner. We're the ones they called in to find what had been lost," he corrects the scientist. His voice is as measured as ever, but there's something underneath it: not quite an edge, and certainly not anger — just that quiet firmness. A ghost of a suggestion that, for all of his politeness, there's a line he will not let himself or anyone else cross. "The military made a big damn mess, no question — and we're being brought in to clean it up," he agrees. "The way I see it, that's basically what this group exists to do: wash the sheets after someone else shits the bed."
His expression settles into wry resignation and he shakes his head, continuing, "Yeah, we make flippant jokes about it. What else can you do? They don't pick guys like you and me for glamour jobs." He pauses, leaning forward with the heels of his palms against the table, and adds, "If it makes you feel any better, the military are absolutely furious that the President isn't letting them handle this internally. The last thing they want is someone else knowing just how badly they dropped the ball on this."
*
ROLL: Bruce +rolls 1d3 for a result of: 2
*
ROLL: Bruce +rolls 1d4 for a result of: 4
*
ROLL: Bruce +rolls 1d2 for a result of: 2
*
Sliding down the wall Bruce presses his hands to his eyes once again. To Banner it is the same. His knees draw up into his chest, and he swallows hard cordoning his mind as much as he can. He can hear the Hulk, a gentle reminder of days long passed. The phrase rolls over his thoughts, as a whispered chant, smash, smash, smash. He forces it down, prodding the Hulk back in a mental battle that the other side of him does not want to yield.
But an identity solely created to protect Bruce Banner will not relent; not when the world is so terrifying. Not when Bruce could be hurt. No, the Hulk will not yield. And he will not be caged.
"N - no - " he wrestles to keep the Hulk suppressed, but a ripple in the scientists' back, breaking the jacket along the seam represents first evidence something is amiss. Green peeks out from behind the jacket, but it continues to rip, stretching along seams. Curled where Banner used to be rests a much larger green mass (not by any means to the fullest of his height).
The mass's breathing, raked and angry emits in long laboured puffs.
On the plus side, he doesn't seem too angry. Yet.
*
Everything that Sam is saying is somethng Peggy agrees with. Yes, it's horrific. Yes, they all wanted to puke when they heard. Yes, this could end the world. But they were called into clean this up, they had jobs to do. Everything would be fine. Peggy had to believe that for her own life. So, she's giving quiet, affirming nods to Sam Wilson's commentary even as things are getting a bit more tense on this side of the room.
Then they get ABRUPTLY more tense as the man begins to stumble back, begins to change. Peggy's eyes go a hint wide, even if this could be highly dangerous, she's fascinated too. She knew what she read in the file, seeing it in person is quite different. And probably quite dangerous. She takes a few good steps back, but doesn't run yet. Prey runs and she is not prey. She doesn't even really reach for a weapon, she just remains on the side of the room as the door, just in case she needs to draw the Hulk away from Sam. But he doesn't seem to be raging. He's just breathing. Very hard. But breathing. ".. Dr. … Banner? Are you still in there? Please, take…deep breaths. We have this all under control. We do."
*
Sam also steps back, but not quite as far as Peggy. It's not a courage thing or a chivalry thing: it is, quite frankly, resentment. Sam Wilson has had to back down, knuckle under, say sorry, and go along to get along so many times in his life that it has buried and compacted his self-respect into a sort of bedrock. You have to dig deep to find it, but once you hit it, you won't go any further. Sam's scared of the Hulk — terrified, even — but he resents the things that make him fearful so powerfully that it hardens him against them. If they have to ladle his remains out of a car-sized, gamma-irradiated footprint and bury him in tupperware, so be it: this big green bully is NOT going to see Sam Wilson turn tail and run.
"Hulk," he says through clenched teeth. "Guess I was eventually going to meet this guy, too." Flippant jokes — what else can you do?
*
ROLL: Bruce +rolls 1d7 for a result of: 5
*
Conventional weapons would have no effect on the Hulk anyways.
The green mass straightens, exposing the large and foreboding exterior that Bruce is capable of becoming. The mild mannered scientist certainly has another side. "Banner gone!" Hulk bellows.
The Hulk smiles, a maniacal, smug expression. He steps to the table, his hands balling into fists, and his hands grasp it, picking it up overhead before throwing it against the wall. "HULK SMASH!" he declares.
*
It's Daniel's voice in the back of Peggy's head which keeps her near the door. Promises made about being careful, about not just charging into messes of situations. So, she doesn't quite face off with the Hulk the way that Samuel is, but she also still doesn't run. "…Hulk, then… I've read your file too. We did bring both your sides onto the team, you know…" Peggy Carter tries to start reasonsable discourse in the most achingly British way possible. It might be for naught.
ESPECIALLY as the man smiles like that, then suddenly grabs the table and it's shoved into the wall. Peggy winces just a bit more, but she doesn't move otherwise, "Yes, I have heard that is one of your more… marketable skills. But this is not the time for smashing…" Ever so British.
*
At this point it is worth nothing that turning tail and running is not the same thing as taking cover. As soon as the jolly green giant starts grabbing furniture, Wilson backs a few more steps away, wraps an arm around Carter's shoulders, and drags the SHIELD director with him behind a filing cabinet. Those Secret Service goons they met at Travis AFB would be proud.
"I don't think this is the time for contract negotiations," he says to Peggy once the crash of the conference table colliding with the wall has died down. His hand goes into his blazer, to the shoulder holster there, but he huffs and leaves the useless sidearm where it is. Guess he's not as American as Carter is English. "I'll have to tell Cap to write off the security deposit, too." Wilson leans out from cover for a second, assessing the damage. "There goes another day off the timetable to clean up this mess." When he returns to cover, that superpowered resentment is written all over his face. After talking to Cho, Wilson wanted to get Banner onto his janitorial squad. The Hulk? Has now firmly secured a spot on Team Bedshitter.
*
ROLL: Bruce +rolls 1d4 for a result of: 2
*
The Hulk stares at Peggy making his acquaintance. The calmness of her tone, the easiness of her expression, and her general British manner actually cause the Hulk to melt from maniacal mass to something less menacing. His shoulders relax, his expression eases, and almost like a petulant child being soothed by its mother, he seems to ease. But despite the calming manner, the Hulk remains. Banner is currently a prisoner in his own mind, and until the Hulk decides it's safe, he's not coming out.
But Sam tackling Peggy causes new rage to bubble under the surface. The Hulk grasps the filing cabinet the pair now use as cover and reaches out to rip Sam away from Peggy. Because. Most petulant child must save mother. Cleary.
No one said the Hulk had good Emotional Intelligence…
*
A yelp of protest comes from the director, but she allows herself to be tossed behind that cabinet with a huff, "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Wilson." Peggy half growls to him. Of course, Sam is a trained military individual. He can take a fall, which is good, because he sure as HELL is about to take a fall. Peggy winces as the cabinet comes away from both of them, huffing up at the Hulk and trying to figure out the best way to dash around this when Sam is suddenly scooped up and tossed like a ragdoll. Well, that wasn't going well. Peggy stares at the man, having at least read the set of his shoulders WAS going calmer when she was talking before. That's all she can do now.
"…Now, Mr. Hulk, I very much get the fact that you are angry. Trust me, I've wanted to throw a table across the room more than once, but Agent Wilson is your *colleague* and I do think that was rather uncalled for… WE can discuss it, if you wish, but you must prepare yourself for a gentlemen's discussion." Her tone is still ever so calm, feminine, clipped and professional. Only the British could continue achingly at calm ease in such a situation. Keeping calm, carrying on, all that rot.
*
Wilson is cast aside (i.e. thrown against a wall) hard enough to focus on the intended target who is still speaking calmly. "HULK help!" he declares as he steps forward again, as he reaches for Peggy to throw her over his shoulder fireman style. "HULK save!"
*
"…Help?" Peggy states in a moment of utter confusion. She truly thought that rage was directed a both of them. Then she's getting tossed across the Hulk's shoulder and he's yelling about SAVE. Peggy actually, for just a second, cannot help but laugh. She then chokes it back, tossed across his shoulder and being carried to goodness knows where. "Well, yes, Hulk…You have absolutely saved me from that nasty filing cabinet. Good job. Cheerio, really. You can set me down now." Still so calm! She doesn't flail or beat him, or even try to struggle away. This is, hopefully, something she can talk herself out of.
*
"Not safe!" Unconvinced that Peggy is out of harm's way, the Hulk bounds out the door, still escorting the polite Brit, and runs down the hallway. With a single shoulder to break the glass, he runs through one of the many windows of the building, causing glass to shatter as he moves. Oddly, during his destructive turn, the HULK still takes care to protect Peggy from the glass maneuvering his body to take the entirety of the blow. He even rolls at the bottom of the jump, protecting Peggy as he does so, and taking the entirety of the impact with his body.
The thump that resounds when they hit the ground causes the entire island to vibrate. The HULK is huge. Agent efforts to do anything to halt the mass are in vain as within moments of landing, the green giant is back on his feet and leaping off the island's edge with Peggy still safely carried over his shoulder.