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It's a rough hour later that the chaos has settled down enough into some semblence of what a spy agency should be doing in this instance. Agent Williams was carted off to hospital where he was pronounced dead on arrival. Quiet, sad phone calls were starting to be made. Coolridge is down writing his own report, but the agents more active on the scene, and the ever-too-hands-on Director, are still actively involved in handling the fall out.
Barney and Hilde were separated the moment they got to the back entrance of some random dark alleyway in Chinatown. It smells like grease and noodles. Hilde was taken God knows where, but Barney has been thoroughly searched (three times, at least, in indecent areas too) before being shoved into a 10 by 10 interrogation room with a one way mirror that's currently reflecting him his own image. He's cuffed to the table, of course, but one hand has been set free for the promise of cofee that has yet to come.
Peggy is standing outside, staring at Clint and Ava, Barney's file in her hand as the not-too-obviously pregnant director (but damn, she's definitely gotten puffy about the midde) prepares for still one of her best skills — getting information out of folks. "…Do we yet have any straight out proof that he murdered the man last week? We'll need to wait for the autopsy to see if it was the bullets or his knife that killed Williams…" She asks Ava flatly, but she's clearly not sticking around for a long report. Just the brief prep, then she's ready to go in.
*
"I called in the suspect based on the sketch on the board, ma'am," Ava answers Peggy, nodding toward the main office. "Didn't expect everything to get so violent, though. He was at the free clinic in Harlem earlier today. Using the name Mike Mullins, but it didn't sound like he meant it." She wasn't close enough to see what he was doing at the clinic, but he's been searched well enough - SHIELD no doubt knows if he has any actual injuries or illness.
*
Barney had a pistol and a few little 'tricks', including a small prescription bottle of nitroglycerine tablets written out to a man named 'Michael Mullins'. To check the pharmacy, he's had the prescription for a little over six months. Before that, not a whisper of Michael Mullins anywhere.
Within the interrogation room, Barney's got the welt to the face where Clint got him with the taser arrow, and the chances are better than even that he's got a few more bumps, bruises and welts 'just because'. Handcuffed to the table, he's not getting up to walk around, but keen blue eyes do keep watch on that glass, even if it's reflecting back at him like a mirror. His jaw is set, his cheek twitching in annoyance as he pulls at his arm, making the chain on the cuff *clink*. Over.. and over.. and over.
*
A brief nod is given from Peggy, dark eyes flickering up in Clint's direction for just a heartbeat or two, then she tosses the file down on the table in front of him and Ava. No commentary is yet made about the last name in it, but Peggy is fairly certain they've made an accurate ID. Even if half the damn file is redacted. "Very well…I'll need a clearer report from agent MacNeil, but I'm fairly certain we've got the right man. Good job, Orlva." With that, the door opens and in Peggy goes.
Yes, Barney is hurting. He was captured, Domino was not, and SHIELD agents aren't very kind to someone who has killed one of their own. Peggy might be a bit of a surprise, however, to who he thought would be coming through the door. Middle aged, graying temples, soft about the middle in a forgiving suit skirt and blouse is not what most expect from NATO Agent. She stares at him quietly, letting that uncomfortable silence grow in the room. She has no care for his annoyed clinking. The smile he's given might be more intimidating than the silence.
*
Bumps, bruises, gashes.. Barney's just lucky he's not spitting up blood, even if pulling breaths is a little on the painful side. He's got the free hand, and a sniffle rises as he sucks in blood, only to have that hand rise and wipe just under his nose to see if he's still bleeding or if it's just left-over.
He watches this new development, and brows rise even as a wolfish smile appears on his somewhat battered face.
*clink*
*clink*
The action is deliberate in front of her now; not a word is spoken. There is silence in the room but for that sound.
Then, there's her smile. Blue eyes watch her keenly, now, though his own doesn't drop. Instead,
"I asked for coffee 'bout an hour ago." His words hold a Midwestern 'charm' to them. "Be a darlin'.."
*
Ava lets out a breath when Peggy moves into the other room. She did a thing! She brought someone in. Sort of. She certainly didn't do it alone, but she did something right. Now? Now she's going to watch. Because seeing how SHIELD deals with prisoners is definitely on her list of things she wants to know. She also reaches for the file if Clint doesn't get there first. The more you know…
*
"You know, the FBI would really be quite happy if you disappeared. No one would come looking for you. So, if I were you, I would start talking damn fast because there is utterly nothing stopping me from being judge, jury and executioner in this very room. Most of my men out there want to be. You killed one of them. So, you have five minutes. Coffee would be the least of my worries in your shoes…" Peggy's voice is ice cold, completely strange against her smile. She is a woman who can speak about killing a man without blinking an eye. No swooning or hesitation. One killer to another, this woman is absolutely a killer.
Whether she'd actually kill him or not? Who knows. Maybe she is bluffing. But despite softness of appearance, not a single thing about her gives a hint to that being a lie. In fact, she seems like she might be a touch happy to finish the job.
*
Barney listens for a fair moment and leans on the table, elbows and all. In the next second, he's yanking the arm with the handcuff forward as if to strike at Peggy, his expression strained in the action. It's there and gone, the annoyance, the anger, and his hands meet, fingers entwine before him.
"I'm too damned important for you just to off," he begins. She's learned about the FBI, yeah.. the chances are good she's read some of his file. The parts that weren't blacked out boxes, that is. "And you know it, or I'd be dead right now." Unless she's curious first. "You don't look like a fool, so I'm gonna assume you aren't, honey."
The merc isn't willing to bet that she's bluffing, however. He did kill one of their own, and no one looks kindly on that. Still, in this business, there are also things known as trade-offs, and right now? (In his opinion), She's still up on the deal, so to speak.
It's a game, however… how far can he push before she decides he's simply not worth the effort?
"You and the FBI could be biiiig buddies if you delivered up my corpse. Jus' think of all gratitude of those men there.. thanking you for doin' something they couldn't do."
*
There was an operation. A call into the headquarters about the location of a suspected shooter. Now Peggy's in interrogation with the prisoner, while Ava and Clint watch the process from the other side of a two-way mirror. Although at the moment, Ava's perched on the edge of a table on their side of the glass, poring over Barney's file and looking more like someone who wandered off the street than an agent. But that's what she's good for.
*
If anything would tell Barney just how calm and experienced Peggy is, it's the fact that his momentary thrashing with the handcuffs against the table doesn't even make her flinch. The British woman stares at him, expression flat, like she was looking at an impatient child throwing a temper tantrum. Then his finger twine and her head tilts, ever so slightly, as if to inquire was he done throwing a fit?
"I haven't yet decided how important you are, Mr. Barton. That is what the next…" And she tilts dark eyes down to her watch casually, "4 minutes and 28 seconds are for. So, you had better start talking. Or you can continue to throw a fit against the table. I'm sure it feels very good to beat upon."
*
As the unnamed interrogator cooly checks her watch, Barney looks away and up to the mirror'd glass again. His jaw tightens, his cheek twitches again before he brings his gaze back down to Peggy. "I don't know what you're talkin' about. I was minding my own business in a goddamned bar when your boys showed up." He sounds just this side of angry, and there's a *clink* to the chain again, aggressive as he pulls at it, causing the skin on his wrist to redden and welt it yet another spot where it's not yet bloody. "And someone shot a goddamned arrow and hit a medic." Beat. "Who the hell uses arrows anymore. Seriously."
*
Steve hasn't seen Peggy since they had their heart to heart and he quit SHIELD. It was then he said he needed some time before he could see her as a friend. Time has since passed and he hasn't talked to her in quite some time. It's amazing what happens when you finally decide to move on. The past always hurts a little bit less. Knowing she eats for two now, and knowing that she is probably working, he comes by with a sandwich. When the light is open, he knows he was right.
But she's not in the main part of the room. He sees some action back in the interrogation room. Even though he shouldn't, he begins walking closer. He never did get this part of it out of his system and he's gotta see what's up.
*
This files reads almost as well as anything out of the Red Room with all the redactions. Ava's not entirely ready to give up on it, though. She even holds a page up to the light every now and then as if she's going to be able to read through the black lines. She glances over when Steve comes closer, sitting up a little straighter as if she thinks she can stop him from going in if he wants to. Maybe she hasn't recognized him.
*
"You, apparently. Considering we're running your finger prints now from this arrow which murdered a man on Wednesday." Peggy grabs a file from the single far, tiny table in the corner of the room and opens it up. Inside are photos of the dead civil rights leader from the assassination this week and the crossbow bolt that was used to kill him, shiny in its evidence bag. "So, the innocent act is not going to work, Mr. Barton. And your associate was attempting to help you evade SHIELD forces, so she's no innocent either." Peggy leaves the somewhat gristly photos there, on the table, in front of him. She's also come close enough to him that, if he actually dares, he could hit her. She might even be tempting him to try.
Visible through the two-way mirror, if all colors in the room beyond slightly muted, Peggy looks like a force to be reckoned with. Shoulders square, jaw firm, eyes with that oddly icy fire behind them, it's hard to even think about the fact that most of her looks rather soft now and it's somewhat obvious she's either expecting or has really started to let herself go. Looking at her face alone, there is *nothing* soft about Peggy Carter. "Three minutes and 49 seconds." She adds, after another handful of watch ticks.
*
Barney sits there, and his jaw shifts sideways as he pretends to look at the pictures. He looks pretty beaten up right now… bruises, contusions; all injuries sustained by 'falling downstairs'. There's nothing there behind the cold blue eyes. No recognition with the glance at the picture, no remorse. No admission of guilt either. He chuckles soon after, though, and he makes as if he's going to sit back in his seat. Instead, however, his fist in manacles rises again, the sharp *clink* as the leash goes tight, but there is the second hand, his off hand, that reaches out in order to grab her throat and pull her across the table to him. It's quick, and he's quick.
*
Steve approaches the interrogation room and stops as Ava gets in his way. He looks down at the young redhead and tilts his head as if to say, 'Really?', but he would never say that of course. Up until Barney grabs for Peggy's throat. "Hey!" he yells out and drops the sandwiches in the bag. Ava or no, Steve is going to try and break into room. He may have to go over her if he hopes to be successful.
*
"Hey, you can't go-" Ava starts to warn Steve that the director's busy, until he calls out. That's when she has a split-second to make a choice. Look and see what's going on behind her, or stick to keeping Steve from going in there. It's not really a choice, though. Training - both hers and that of the agent she shared a mind with - says to stick to the mission, which right now is interrogating the prisoner. So despite the fact that Steve's at least twice her size, she reaches for his wrist, ready to twist, angle, and use his own momentum against him.
Surely the director has this handled.
*
He is quick. Actually quicker than she thought he'd be with his right hand — maybe the file was wrong? — but Peggy was planning for it. There is very little in her life and *nothing* in an interrogation she does which isn't calculated. That hand that reaches for her throat is caught in a snake-fast grip from her own, dominate right hand and she's side step spinning around the table, arm coming with her, as she twists it painfully behind his back and shoves forward with her body weight. He's either going to slam into the table, breaking nose or teeth, or his shoulder is going to be dislocated. It depends how much he fights back. Either way, it's going to hurt like hell.
"Barney Barton, I don't need a three fourths redacted file to tell me everything I need to know about who and what you are. Cocky. Used to being the best on the field. Not a shred of remorse left in your bloody heart for a single death you cause. Buyable by the highest bidder so completely lacking any actual loyalty to government, morals or employers. And, before tonight, someone who thought he was untouchable. Killers like you are a dime a dozen. So, I promise you that if you don't give me something worth while in the next two minutes, I will have no issue making you, your file, and any trace of your miserable existence disappear." Yes, she did cut the timeline short. Apparently, she's running out of patience.
And, of course, she's totally got the situation handled without Captain America. Doesn't mean that he's still not going to try to get that door open, even as Ava tries to stop him with practically the VERY SAME HOLD Peggy is using. It's almost amusing. It's like Peggy might have trained her once upon a time, or something.
*
ROLL: Barney +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 32
*
Barney is quick; he's always prided himself on being just that half step ahead, that half move ahead. This, however? This person is a whole lot faster and a whole lot stronger than he'd given her credit for. From a position where he'd thought himself superior because he wasn't leaning over the table, he'd had both feet planted, to getting pushed face first into the table, breaking his nose, and his shoulder is pulled back. He can feel it almost dislocate, and he exhales a ragged breath as he tries to keep the grunt of pain from exiting. Blood trickles from his nose now as he's planted firmly against the table, and he lies stock still.
"There's a contract on Howard Stark now. It's not by some crazy exec, but from a body in the Fed." Safe enough, right? His voice is muffled, and he coughs, spattering bright red blood onto the table. "They wanted me to do it."
*
Before Ava can even move, Steve has her by the belt buckle, and with a quick movement, she rises straight up into the air. Her back knocks several of the ceiling tiles loose as she goes up through the ceiling and is just sort of held there as Steve begins to try and open the door.
*
What the- Ava was not anticipating being on the ceiling. "You can't go in there," she growls, twisting to get a grip on his arm. "The director's interrogating someone." Her vantage point above Steve's head is not ideal for seeing that Peggy does in fact have this all under control, but she knows enough about interrogations to know that whether or not she does, interrupting it could set them back hours.
So instead, with her hands wrapped around Steve's wrist, she stops holding back on the force of electricity inside her. A blue spark starts in her eyes, then her lips, and suddenly there's a hell of a shock coming through her hands to Steve's wrist.
*
The woman keeps her weight there, confident she has full control of his arm, and she is pushing ever so slightly more to the point he might think she's decided to dislocate it anyway. But then he's talking, and some of that weight eases. Just slightly. She listens, the feel of her breath against the back of his head the only thing that says this isn't the easiest walk in the park for her, as it's just a touch shallow with adrenaline and effort. Finally, the heat of her is gone. She steps back away, leaving him to look wounds and wipe blood off his face as he wishes. She's also blissfully unaware of the mess in the hallway.
"…Someone in the Fed? Can you tell me *who*? Mr. Stark is an ex-director of this organization and still one of the most brilliant minds in the world. So, if you aren't feeding me a line of complete shite, we might be able to actually have a discussion here." He's bought himself some time. That's it. She's ceased counting down the clock. There is still no warmth in her voice.
*
Barney can almost feel the shoulder snap. He'll have problems with that shoulder into his retirement years, should he actually ever retire this side of the grass. He lies very still so the pressure and the pain of the shoulder is mitigated, and any movement is an attempt to reduce the strain. Peggy knows what she's doing, though, and there isn't anywhere he can go or do anything that would pull some of the pain. He coughs again, sending a spray of bright red blood out onto the tabletop again, and as she finally lets go, he's slow on the recovery.
The table is a bloody mess, and when he sits up, he wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, blue eyes staring at her consideringly. It's something, at least, from the empty, cold eyes that he'd started with. It's grudging, but it's there.
"No one signs the things. I don't get a statement at the end of the year for taxes." Leaning back, he clears his throat and spits on the ground, leaving a pinkish-red splatter. Blood from the sinusses.. damn can nosebleeds gush! Particularly from a broken nose. "It was for some.. Project he was on. Others on the projects were accidents." He says that last word as if it's anything but.
In the next couple of seconds, though, Barney starts to chuckle and looks away, looking up at the mirror again. "That's just the beginning of what I've got. The FBI would hang a fucking medal around your neck if you killed me.. because they'd get to keep all their damned secrets."
*
"Peggy!" Steve yells from behind the glass, likely unable to be heard by design. He has no clue that the young Ava is not mitigated from her perch up high. So when the electricity comes, he has no clue what he's in for. He collapses in a heap upon the ground and Ava falls right on top of him in what some would say is the first time the Russians have gotten on top of the USA since Yuri Gagarin.
*
Ava oofs as she comes down on Steve, wincing. "I told you, the director is busy with an interrogation," she grumbles. Luckily, this is SHIELD HQ, so there are plenty of handcuffs around. So she goes to get a pair, to make sure whoever this troublemaker is doesn't go interrupting Peggy. She's helpful like that!
*
No, voices don't really carry through the room, though the walls aren't exactly state of the art sound proof. Peggy stares back at the bloody mess of her suspect, no care in her eyes for just how hurt he might be. The FBI my actually be nicer than whoever these crazies are. Or at least the old battle axe that's interrogating Barney now. "If that is just the beginning, you may survive the night yet. So, the deal is this: You tell me everything you have, and you won't see an electric chair. It's on the table for the next-" That's when the VERY loud thud of Steve and Ava's bodies hitting the floor outside echoes through the hall and rattles the door. Peggy blinks, staring quietly back to the hall. What the HELL was going on?
"…next five minutes. I'll get paper. You get ready to start writing. If your life is worth it, that is." And she reaches into her pocket, pulling out a white handkerchief. She tosses it in his direction as she turns to go. "And clean yourself up. You're a mess."
Then she's opening the door to figure out just what in hells is happening in her hall.
*
Barney knows she wants more. There is so much of it that he could easily keep some of it aside and still there'd be more than enough to keep him from the chair. Brows rise at the mention of the mode of execution, however, and he sits back in his seat awkwardly, holding his arm and supporting it.
He catches the sound just beyond too, and while he doesn't turn to look in the direction, he's sitting still so as to catch what he can. The handkerchief, however, is ignored for a couple of moments until she rises and departs the area to open the door and discover what is occuring just beyond. Then, he takes it and daubs at his nose, checking to see how tender it is, and when he pulls the bit of fabric back, it's red. Grumbling softly, Barney looks down at his hands and balls them into fists once, twice.. and there's a hint of a wince from the side of that shoulder now.
"How 'bout that coffee?"
*
Steve is mumbling on the floor as he tries to get up. With a heavy sigh he's able to get onto his back. Seeing Peg, well seeing three spinning Pegs, Steve reaches and holds up the bag he brought. "Sandwiches," he says breathily towards Peg.
*
Ava, of course, is just coming back with the handcuffs when Peggy opens the door to find woozy Steve on the ground offering sandwiches. Crap. Assassins or asshole agents don't usually offer sandwiches. And there's definitely not time to get the cuffs behind her back.
"He was trying to get into the interrogation room," she offers lamely, cuffs dangling from one finger.
*
"Steve!?" Peggy echoes, possibly loud enough, or fast enough, that Barney could hear the words before the door slams shut and he's left with his own blood, pain and thoughts in the empty room. He is probably lucky that the weird chaos in the hallway was enough that hormonal Peggy didn't hear his coffee remark, lest she charge back in and shove his head into the floor. She immediately gets down one knee, moving to try and help him up. "Yes, sandwiches, I *see*…" She mutters, like he might be drunk or something…
And then there is Ava trotting back into the area. Peggy just blinks, truly confused…"Trying to get in? Why? I just had him starting to talk. And Ava, do you know who this is? This is Steve Rogers…Steve…this is one of our new junior agents, Ava. She is… effective. If overzealous, apparently." Peggy quickly makes the introductions, even if she still seems entirely confused as to what the hell happened.
*
Nope, no coffee is forthcoming.
Barney does catch the single yelled word, 'Steve!?' before the door is slammed shut and he gets to be alone with his thoughts. That's okay, though. Soon enough, he's back to playing with the single cuff, pulling it so that it goes *clink* with each pull. It's not as actively done, however; now, it seems almost idle as he sits alone with his thoughts.
He tells and he walks, he'll probably be killed because of the FBI wanting to redouble their efforts. Maybe actually find someone who is good. He doesn't, and ol' Barney Barton will be looking at Ol' Sparky. Great. Dying in Jersey. Not on his list of things to do. "Immunity." It's a single word, and in the next breath, he shouts it as loudly as he can,
"Immunity!" He tells and he can't be prosecuted. And he gets free rein to kill anyone that tries to kill him in retaliation.
*
"I…." Steve begins. "Hurt." His head then lies against the floor and he closes his eyes. "Hi Ava."
*
"Oh. Uh." Ava awkwardly holds the handcuffs behind her back. At least maybe Steve won't see them. "Hi, Steve. Sorry about the- You know." She looks up to Peggy with a sheepish smile. "I'll just go get him settled at the infirmary, then."
*
"… That…would be best. Thank you, Ava." Peggy clips out, a slight smirk across her lips, but she really couldn't worry about it incredibly much right now. She needed to finish this interrogation. She glares at the door as she hears that shout, but is going to let him sweat it out for a while. She does pause to pick up the sandwiches, though. They weren't a bad idea as she prepared the affidavit documents for the rest of the talking with Barney. Sandwiches in hand, she clips back in the direction of her office. It's going to be a long night.
*