1964-11-11 - Project Virgo: Auf WiederSHIELD
Summary: SHIELD goes to East Berlin to extract their defector. Will Leo make it across the border in time? What about Zosma and Decebola, his civilian family? Things go sideways almost immediately as the Red Room decides he should never make it home. Cue hell breaking loose. Whatever he was carrying was worth braving an incident over.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
black-widow nick-fury bucky peggy rogue 


1740 hours. Stadtmitte. Friedrichshain Borough. East Berlin.

East Berlin doesn't differ terribly much in the waning hours of the evening from any other city in Europe or America. The usual enormous stream of pedestrian traffic floods through the side alleys, directed into a crush upon the S-bahn line running parallel to the wall dividing one half the city from the other. Nowhere is absent of people in their shuffling masses, the occasional man with a German shepherd indicative of the Stasi presence. Like an iceberg, the police one can see don't represent the bulk of the others nearby. The destination for the evening is tantalizingly close: Friedrichstrasse Station, right between the two halves of the city.

Most pedestrians trudging on foot seek the comforts of home in other boroughs rather than this fairly central location, through a confusing maze of hallways and barriers. Those tracks lead off deeper into the GDR.

Platform B serves as SHIELD's destination. Here the underground lines heading across the border to West Berlin remain tantalizingly close, a short hop of fifteen minutes giving freedom of the West. Border troops guard the minor white huts lined up row on row, another of those infamous checkpoints where exit visas and documentation come under whimsical scrutiny. An ugly building processes further visitors and releases them onto the covered rail platform where the carriages line up with German precision. Doesn't matter what side of the border someone is on, that never changes. Their window depends wholly on the sluggish lines, though, and there's no way around the grim-faced men at customs control, passport checks. So many people, so much cover, so much control. It's a dangerous space.

Ref: https://goo.gl/L3Keob

Peggy is currently close to Zosma and Decebola. She's just behind them, in case she needs to act. She has a lot of plates spinning on this one. Bucky providing distraction, Nick as point. She's brought in more than a few of SHIELD's German agents on the West Berlin side, masquerading as family members waiting to greet people, businessmen just going about their day….no one with any orders other than "act normal, and be ready if I give the word".

Fury is in line, just a dozen or so folks ahead. In case soemthing goes awry he can signal to the other agents in the area that it's go time. Non-chalantly every so often he will look around, the briefest of eyecontact made with others in on the job. *Puff Puff* Two for all good three for trouble seems to be the thing. So far it's been two drags and an exhale from the obnoxious cigar hanging from his mouth.

"Decebola" is barely the size of a 9-year-old, possibly older. Twin plaits hang down her shoulders and she walks a bit stiffly. Her heavy coat doesn't disguise how slim and coltish the girl is. She jumps at the slightest of sounds, but that's nothing new for a child who has only known existence in the Warsaw Pact nations.

"Zosma" has that resolute look of a German housefrau, for all she and her daughter are Russian. She is well-acquainted with rail and the procedures, for all her bland expression tells. Her gaze is straight ahead of her, on the queue of people headed for passport control. Decebola holds her hand, unless told otherwise. "Leo," otherwise known as Wilhelm Berg, leads the way at a distance of exactly one person. He clearly isn't flustered, but then a senior KGB agent wouldn't under these circumstances. The man could well be having a meltdown as he glances at the green-glass building that houses the interior checks. Through the white huts, then down, and across a train. Sounds so easy. So very easy.

The KGB knows him….and by extension, nearly all of the allied services, at least by that ghostly reputation he has. The Soviet scalpel for delicately carving away any recalcitrant tumors on the Warsaw Pact's alliance.

So Bucky's assumed that persona again, cold, expressionless, intent on business. Dressed in a coat that very clearly once belonged to a Stasi officer, waiting in line with a barely concealed impatience, and no sign of fear….all the while his pulse is jumping with adrenaline, senses on high alert. Look at me. Wonder what I'm doing here and where I'm going; Has the KGB decided he's rogue, in earnest, or is working deep cover in the West? At the very least, he should set tremors shaking through the web. At worst….more than one spider is already on its way.

«Next.» The flat, unfriendly voice of a border guard who makes Stalin look like Santa Claus and as welcoming as a golden lab summons another traveler north. Around the well-guarded desks, stamps fall with the irregular rhythm of flak guns. Police walk with their sniffer dogs, and uneasy pedestrians stare straight ahead and school their features. Beyond them, hope and freedom. Every so often, someone is redirected into a detention area to be searched. More leave in tears, thrust back into the custodial hall for rejected visas or documents. Fury and Peggy probably have the very clear sensation the grim mood is heightened, terribly unwelcome.

Funny that Bucky should be concerned with spiders walking the web, because while Leo is held in high esteem by the KGB with little reason to doubt him, operatives of the Red Room has reached different conclusions. The sort of conclusions that get all sorts of itty bitty spiders crawling to and fro. There's no doubt there are SHIELD operatives among the very German looking lot, just as there are Stasi and KGB involved as well. Most with opposing objectives, but what makes the Red Room so feared in the KGB, is that this specific division answers to precious few. Whether they are in or out of a specific event, rarely reported, just a few more blonde haired Germans out and about they may have more on their mind than a simple commute. That is, as simple as crossing from one side of Berlin to the other can be, it's no field trip. But is done regularly by those with the required permits, certain roles demand such loathesome travel after all.

Peggy chose the order with intent. She trusts the paperwork she and Nick have; it's the best SHIELD can manage, and it's been put together over decades, for them both. But Nick is the kind of person who will draw attention, with his cigar-chomping, larger than life presence. And she's going to make some attention herself. Basically, once Nick gets passed through, she'll sound off. The thinking being that if they're paying attention to the man they just passed through, and the woman making the fuss, they will be paying LESS attention to the happy family unit in between.

Nick grunts and let's the cigar drop from his mouth, a big black boot stomping it out as a guard walks by. He keeps his eye dead straight now and it would seem he is still in the clear….For now. He will glance over to Bucky, though not making any real direct eye contact as he makes sure that he doesn't with the others as well. He is keeping the proverbialy /close/ eye on things but not giving too much away.

|ROLL| Rogue +rolls 1d20 for: 8

The guard glares at the cigar stamped onto the ground. His sniffer dog pauses, black snout turned to the ground, and body sleek. "«You pick that up,»" he states in no uncertain terms to Fury. Nick isn't getting away from the man.
The line shuffles ahead. Another few people vanish through the turnstyles into the depths of the vast underground station, clutching their ID papers and manhandling their bags. Past vigilant souls they go, one of those blonde women likely to disregard them as improper marks. Too young, too old, female, too brunet.
Leo looks to the side. Zosma pushes her daughter along, hand still clasped. "Come," she says. Three people ahead of the senior agent. Their papers are sound in her hand. All is well.

Disruptions move in the patterns above. It's not easy to see the plainclothes officers and troops shifting in formation, how more of the glass-and-steel barrier shuts down as some protocol falls into place. Safeties go off on weapons. Gestures, codes, and other tells generate worried interest out of hatchet-faced officials. They're moving, rotating orders, closing on a certain quadrant of the terminal where stands a man clearly not a Soviet officer. So they pray, following orders. Bucky's been noted.

He's a killer, but Winter, at least, is a good actor, in his strange, stony way. And for now, Buck's doing his best to assume that version of his persona. There's that cold hauteur, not apparently bothering to keep track of what the hoi polloi around him are up to.

The coat helps, though it has no rank insignia - it earns him sidelong, uneasy looks from the passersby, both east and west. And even when the noose of protocol starts to tighten, that sangfroid does not desert him in the least. He reaches with deliberate slowness into a pocket of the coat to produce a set of papers. The seals and markings are Russian - is someone trying to signal to the KGB that he's trying to come back to the cold at last?

|ROLL| Black Widow +rolls 1d20 for: 15

|ROLL| Rogue +rolls 1d20 for: 16

At this point it is starting to get fuzzy in regards to who is fooling who, shift in positions, shift in structure, safeties going off. People are nervous, people are reacting, and one distracts another makes for a perfect opportunity for one who is generally unaccounted. Having the Winter Soldier present was a delicious treat, but the Black Widow is notorious world wide for her success rate precisely because she doesn't veer off a mission's objective. With the way Peggy draws guards on one side, Fury draws guards on the other side, and Winter Soldier drawing all kinds of attention, there's a split second moment where the Red Room takes its shoot.

A group of people who were seemingly strangers, suddenly all draw attention in different directions, one cries, "CIA!" Another cries, "it's a spy!" A third shouts, "he's got a knife!" Each one pointing guards in entirely random directions, no doubt adding to a moment's confusion.

From an altogether different angle, three umbrellas open, providing cover from rooftop spectators, and cameras, in the makeshift cover the umbrellas provide, a shoot is fired by someone surrounded by the three men with the umbrellas. To get a better look at the wouldbe shooter, one would have to breach this makeshift human ring around the shooter. The shoot, for those who are experts in the field, sound like it came off a sniper rifle. The target is Leo alone, precisely in the space he pushed his daughter to move along, the aim was for a headshot.

"Heh." Fury growls out albeit quietly. He reaches down and scoops it, crushing it in his hand lightly but a very apparent scowl on his features. Then, he pulls another and lights. Keep the guy off his game. He trusts his papers as well as Peggy. The commotion gets his attention though and he turns in Buckys direction. The remnants of the old cigar slowly drift from his hand. *Puff Puff Puff* Possibly the signal that things are picking up. When the shot rings out Fury doesn't duck but looks in the directifon frofm where he heard it. Spinning around he sees the umbrellas and his ateention immediately goes to the Asset….

The scattering pedestrians don't wait. Man putting hand in coat, wearing that expression, they sense trouble. Fish before a shark, lines in both directions bulge to leave an open gap about Winter. Respect for rank only goes so far; they're probably afraid of a shooting. Braving the unknown, the unfortunate East German mandarin required to take the papers does so stonily. "«Purpose for travel?»" The balls on that man.

Nothing compared to the girl looking up and asking, "«Papa?»" German, of course, she's trained well. Decebola turns her head a fraction. Just in time to watch her father lurch forward and drag her down, Zosma opening her mouth to scream. Of course she would, splattered in blood. Shades of Jackie O…

Dammit. DAMMIT. Peggy is /furious/. But she'll end up acting, or rather reacting, automatically. She screams a scream that would do a horror movie actress proud, and in perfect German, will take up the other cries from earlier. "CIA! The CIA is shooting us! Get to cover!" And she will bodily hustle Zosma and Decebola forward. Surely a brave East German guard isn't going to stop three innocent women from getting under cover…which also given the direction means getting through the gate. And she's prepared, if she has to, to quickly and effectively take that guard out if he tries. Make it look like she's rushing towards him for reassurance in a panic, and put two knuckles hard into his trachea if she has to.

Yes, with their primary terminated, there's no actual /point/ in getting the wife and daughter out. Well, none in the cold light of logic. But she is Peggy Carter, she is a goddamn hero, and /she gave her word/. There is no way this is not happening.

|ROLL| Rogue +rolls 1d20 for: 5

|ROLL| Bucky +rolls 1d20 for: 12

As it happens that angry East German guard is going to react badly, as he's been trained to do. "Get back!" he yells in German, and levels the gun flat in front of him. In the blink of an eye, the situation has changed and those who were prepared to deal with Winter and the fancy papers he presents have two fronts to handle. Practice makes perfect. Those at the entrances and exits to the terminals are falling into drill formation, shutting off free movement. Someone is undoubtedly shouting loudly into the radio about a bad situation unfolding, and for the love of Lenin's ghost, stop the damn trains. No, not the interexpress Moscow train, nonono.

Bucky drops the boredom like it was a heavy suitcase, and in mid-assertion that he is returning from the West after a long business trip (hey, it's kind of true), as if the mouth and brain were not at all cognizant of what the left hand it doing, yanks a small, ugly Soviet pistol from his coat pocket and fires at the guard dumb enough to aim a gun at Peggy. It's silenced, but that only mutes and misdirects the crack of pistol fire - not easily mistaken for a rifle report, but certain to add to the confusion. And then he's moving, not standing about to present a target, the gray coat flung away to settle gently on the pavement. Where'd he go?

|ROLL| Black Widow +rolls 1d20 for: 9

Poor guard: doing his job and he doesn't stand a chance, taking fire from two directions. His body seizes and jerks to a marionette dance, and then he collapses to the ground. His gun discharges as he hits the podium in descent, shattering a few lightbulbs and ceiling tiles.

After taking in the scene Fury reacts quickly. Head down, hands in pockets he just kind of funnels in nearest the Lady's he can. Additional noses broken, knee caps shattered and concussions lent if need be. Under his breath though and a with a grim look towards his boss he is cursing this turn of events in every way. As security tightens in the blink of an eye he is shaking his head a put's a little pep in his step. Hopefully reaching Peggy before she hits the gate he would make a grab for her shoulder. "Slow down….Wait for it." Of course still keeping moderate pace with the ever shuffling crowd. He'll scan around now for fellow agents and give the signal to stand by. Might just be time, especially with that further confusion from the Winter Soldier.

The expertise at hand is staggering, one moment there's a shot, the next the umbrellas all shut close. There is nobody in the center of the ring of umbrella'd men who just provided cover for the shot. One man is walking away from the ground, carrying what seems like a cello case. Normally not very suspicious, but given the circumstance, he's not likely to be allowed to go through without a through check up. The men with the umbrella walk in three separate direction, a non panicked gait. Aside from them there's a group of panicked people as a result of the shooting and the accusation, one of them, a woman with blonde hair and a somewhat raggy set of clothes in a worn down skirt and blouse is screaming in hysterics, having fallen to the ground and attemptin to hide by covering her face of all things. Some men nearby move to assist her and attempt to calm her down. No, the Black Widow is not concerned with making the train, she has an altogether different plan of extraction. Today's mission was a success, all other present are distractions.

|ROLL| Bucky +rolls 1d20 for: 6

Hereggy Carter has officially Had Enough Of This Shit. Her strike to the guard is just icing on the cake of the Winter Soldier's shot. She /shoves/ both women towards Nick. "Get them clear!" She orders, as she drops immediately, putting immediate pressure on "Leo's" wound. One hand covers the wound, and as she drops to the ground, the other reaches to touch one of her earrings. "Smokescreen." A single code word. Remember all those aforementioned SHIELD agents, the ones on the side Nick and Peggy and the extractees are now on? They move into action. Action, in this case, being a coordinated uncoordination; a milling about that will look to the casual inspection as if it's just people moving about. But it's also going to put people between them and lines of sight from the East. The instant the codeword is given, and she's dropped to the ground, one hand yanks off a shoe, then a stocking, as she presses the nylon into service as an emergency bandage. And it's then that she makes her realization; if she can get this man to a hospital quick enough, all is not lost. Hand goes to earring again. "Nightengale." And that same crowd will start to bustle all of them off, helping carry them as need be. She's developing a serious mad-on for the Widow. But today goes in her column.

Peggy Carter has officially Had Enough Of This Shit. Her strike to the guard is just icing on the cake of the Winter Soldier's shot. She /shoves/ both women towards Nick. "Get them clear!" She orders, as she drops immediately, putting immediate pressure on "Leo's" wound. One hand covers the wound, and as she drops to the ground, the other reaches to touch one of her earrings. "Smokescreen." A single code word. Remember all those aforementioned SHIELD agents, the ones on the side Nick and Peggy and the extractees are now on? They move into action. Action, in this case, being a coordinated uncoordination; a milling about that will look to the casual inspection as if it's just people moving about. But it's also going to put people between them and lines of sight from the East. The instant the codeword is given, and she's dropped to the ground, one hand yanks off a shoe, then a stocking, as she presses the nylon into service as an emergency bandage. And it's then that she makes her realization; if she can get this man to a hospital quick enough, all is not lost. Hand goes to earring again. "Nightengale." And that same crowd will start to bustle all of them off, helping carry them as need be. She's developing a serious mad-on for the Widow. But today goes in her column.

|ROLL| Black Widow +rolls 1d20 for: 15

There's a heartbeat where he stands at gaze, like a hound trying to regain a lost scent. No attempt to join up with Peggy - he's breaking off to find his own way back, still playing killdeer for the SHIELD contingent…seeing if he can draw off any of the enemy agents.

"Papa!" cries his daughter, covering the back of her neck with her hands and crouching. "Papa, come back, we have to get the train!" Duck and cover isn't much to go by. Zosma is shaking, the horror throwing her fast into actual shock. Getting her to go anywhere shouldn't be hard for Agent Fury, if he can keep her moving. Otherwise deadweight, whereas Decebola, not so much.
Frightened pedestrians stampede away from the barriers to the platforms, taking cover under the few tables or chairs anywhere in the passport control area. Those already on the platform haven't really heard much about what is going on, but they know what the tramp of hobnailed boots mean as much as the tribes of Germania in their villages understood what the distant clouds of dust and sunlight glinting off red, eagle-studded shields meant. In waves, the Germans either drop for cover or they run.
In those moments, a few odd things happen. Several people milling around in the masses break away. There's the woman waiting by a barricaded entrance who abruptly pulls away the gun from a police officer's holster and sprints into the main lobby. Two men cleaning out the garbage cans leave their duties, moving in ghostly parallels to intercept the blonde departing comfortable as you please. There's the SHIELD agent going by the name of Smythe breaking cover to briskly walk away. The three soldiers in plainclothes who shove other cowering comrades out of the way, and run after Natasha.

Nick intercepts the two and ushers them in around him. As the agents fall into formation and the dance begins he guides the woman and her daughter through. When she cries for her father he grunts and looks to Decebola. "Her hand, take it." Now he will glide behind the two of them and with smoke billowing behind he let's his eye start to dart back and forth. That chello player and them umbrella's his focus of attention while continuing.

A few moments to sell and the crying and panic is over, the blonde girl in the ragged clothes is getting up, she just recieved confirmation of success from the observer, in the form of a ribbon tossed off a rooftop in line with her vantage. That kills any need to pursuit, for all intents and purposes, the Red Room is of the believe they eliminated Leo and neutralized the threat of a defector giving away the good stuff. This leaves Natasha with the three soldiers walking her way, a quick consideration for the panicy crowd, and the fact the comrades of these soldiers are not as keen to follow them, and she actually waves at them. Her German, as could be expected from a world class agent is perfect, "thank you! Thank you! You're coming to protect me? The American pigs were right here! They shot people!" Is she for real? Three soldiers walking steadfast towards her and she's still playing along? Perhaps she's just a dast girl who was used in all of this rather than an elite agent? Somebody paid her a comission to freak out and scream and draw attention? Maybe whoever saw her do anything misjudged? Either way, for the time being she seems to bank on the part of a thankful young woman eager for the heroes protection to help her out of this situation.

The men with the umbrellas keep walking, each attempts to surreptously lose their umbrella by dropping it midstep as they continue towards the station. The man with the cello, on the other hand, has changed paths, he is no longer heading for the station, rather he breaks through the paniced crowds to cut in between buildings, hoping to get lost in the paniced crowd.

The Soldier breaks and discards the pistol piecemeal as he trots along - rounds here, barrel there, magazine down a stormdrain, clattering away into darkness. A jacket turned inside out, the long hair tucked up under a cap….and he's circling and flanking wide, to see who might wander into his net. The man with the cello is his target.

|ROLL| Rogue +rolls 1d20 for: 18

|ROLL| Rogue +rolls 1d20 for: 17

|ROLL| Rogue +rolls 1d20 for: 13

Fury escorts the girl and mother deeper ahead while Peggy somehow orients her agents to remove the gravely injured or dead defector away. They aren't free of anything yet with the S-Bahn still not reached, and the trains behind shut down as fast as someone can get an order in. There could be car to car searches, hours of choice. Zosma and Decebola together are pushed by the uneasy crowd fleeing for freedom. It was only three years ago when close to a tenth the country's population made a rush for West Berlin.
Half a world away, and just footsteps, the three German soldiers confront the blonde. There's no getting through the doors of the concourse in a lockdown, only a fight to be free. "Fraulein, this is not safe," says one. "Your ID papers." The other two are fully armed and carry that sense of precision about them, a disturbing sort.
Then there's Agent Smythe to the background, and the cleaners cutting in from another angle. What in particular attracted their attention isn't clear, but the fact is, they're professionals and closing.

Fury notices a few but with this crowd, the confusion, and Peg's insistance to get the two over the border his hands are kind of tied. He keeps them moving though, weaving this way and that as further themselves from the Eastern German border. Eventually making it to the street that lies beyond the checkpoints the drop off car is there. He shoves the two inside giving a nod to the driver. -"But wait. Wher-" Nick cuts him off. "Go! Now!" The slamming of the door will assure the man to split and Fury turns. Scanning now for those that dropped from sight.

"Wow…you look so strong, now I feel safe," Widow is quite at her element, showering compliments at the big strong men with a flushed face while reaching for a pocket in her top to produce papers. "Did you catch the American spy? The one that shot people?" She asks with concern, while giving the soldier a chance to take credit for his bravery. Casting a brief glance at the other two armed soldiers who keep a bit of a distance, she laughs, "look how far back the cowards stand, I knew you were the bravest one right away, were you the one that shot the spy?" Widow asks in a flirtatious undertone as she hands her papers, which to all effect and purpose, especially armed with just eyes, seem legit. She is apparently Agnes Dietrich, born in Frankfurt, and have been in East Berlin for the last two years. 26 years old if they bother with it. Eye color and hair color seem to match, the picture looks good, even though she didn't come out nearly as nice, likely a result of makeup application. "Are you single…?" She asks hopefully while the soldier right infront of her gets a chance to study her papers.

He's still following the man with the cello case. If that thing doesn't prove to hold a rifle, Buck'll eat that hat. Casual pace, head down, as if he himself were just trying to flee the panic at the train station. But gaining, slowly.

The men without their umbrellas are quite difficult to tell from the crowd, unless one managed to be perceptive and keep track in all the chaos. For the most part, they've fairly good chances to make out seeing how they're not actually trying to cross. The guy with the cello doesn't seem aware he's been tracked, and if Bucky doesn't intervene, he'll find there's a trap door in the ground pre-made for the man to drop the cello into, undisturbed, he'll do just that before walking away.

Nick's a pro. After analyzing the whole scene he does pick out /one/ that seems to be shuffling in awkward directions. Never actually approaching the gates, but funneling back. He looks casual, too casual. He's a way off though and on the other side so Nick just peers, that stogey getting chewed on in animate frusteration.

The two German soldiers fan out around the first, caught with the perpetual case of really don't trust this world allergy so many of their kind have. Stasi cars are scattered throughout the roads around the station and the barricades going up outside will further snarl attempts to get outside — or come in.
Taking "Agnes'" papers, the first soldier looks them over sharply. "No," he says flatly. "Why are you traveling through? Did you see the shooter or the children hit?"

Mentally, he marks the place the case is dropped. But he's still following the man. So the shooter wasn't Natasha, or….no. It feels like her MO, which is to say, the one he gave her. It walks a shiver up Bucky's spine, to know that in his own way, he's assissted in ths crime for the other side. And he's ever further into Indian country.

"I am not travelling today, I came to meet a friend crossing over, Trudi was supposed to arrive…" the woman pauses a moment to look at her wristwatch, "well, I guess she's not coming now after all the shooting, huh? Crossing will probably be closed for a week…" her face become quite crestfallen. "I saw a man," she relates and her breathing starts to intensify, her pupils widen, something of a paniced reaction to being asked to relive the memory of the shooter, "he…he pushed me and I got upset, but then he took out a gun, and I think he killed someone…I just started screaming." Tears start rolling down her eyes, she is quite the pro, "I covered my face, I was so scared, so I didn't see where he go…but he was shooting from there," she points in a direction that would make sense, considering where the umbrella cover up took place.

The man who just hid the cello continues along his way, and if Bucky continues to track him, he'll eventually find him walking into a store where he proceeds to buy a paper and take a moment to browse it. The man certainly doesn't look like Natasha, though she has disgused as a man before, so who really knows.

The soldiers keep watching. Further lockdown is well on its way. In the face of a crying woman, they don't really show much of a response. The weak French or English might show such compassion, but not with the Stasi probably crawling over the place. Cue suspicious looks and one of those cleaners possibly considering using cover to take a shot…
"Frau, someone took out a gun in the station itself? He pushed you and then took the gun out?" asks the first man, because trying to make sense is important.

If he lingers, he'll betray himself. So Buck passes on without a pause, and starts to circle back to where he saw the case left. Time is running, Soldier, and the waves of alarm are spreading. No doubt someone in Moscow is choking on his tea at the report of the Soldier killing a guard in the station.

She points at where she was standing, "I was here, looking at the watch, waiting for Trudi's train to arrive," she then moves a little bit, haphazardly positioning herself between the soldiers if they don't pay attention, as after all, she is re-enacting for them, "then I was pushed like that," she throws herself a little, to indicate she was rudely pushed. "His friends, they had umbrellas, which is weird because it wasn't raining…they just opened them, I thought they were silly, but then he was holding a gun and shooting." Clearly, the shoots were not fired from a gun, so much as a sniper rifle, but than the way this woman carries herself, it's doubtful she could tell one from the other. "It was a loud noise, I fell over there," she points to indicate, ever aware of the positioning of the soldiers, who luckily kept enough apart to avoid being taken down in one go so far. "Then I was just paniced, I thought he would kill me. He looked American though, I think that's why everyone was screaming about it…they saw him too!" She then suddenly starts to turn pale, looking at the soldier who still has her papers, "wait…you didn't get him yet!? Is he still out here!?" Horrified she starts screaming hysterically again once she realizes the shooter has not been apprehended. This leaves the soldiers with a choice. Do they ignore the hysterical woman and carry on the actual search for the shooter? Do they try to calm her down? To they try to force her to calm down? Widow is prepared for a close encounter should they just to bring it upon themselves. She often tries to eliminate targets alone, but when left no other choice, it will always be her who makes it. Everyone else can burn.

Should Bucky bother to take a look at the hiding place and open the case, he will find a cello inside.

Given the thick presence of various agents and operators of the government, no doubt the matter isn't really on their heads for staying in one place. Other than rappelling down the windows on long lines, the military presence sealing off Friedrichstrasse is terribly heavy. And Moscow is probably having a fit, as much as the Stasi senior personnel are.
The KGB is another story. "We need you to come with us, Frau, for your testimony. It won't be terribly long but as a firsthand witness, the captain will need to hear this firsthand. As it is, more comfortable than standing out here," he says, staying surprisingly calm in the face of such crazy reactions. Crying and hysterically warbling only upsets the few travelers hiding away behind their benches or a rack of brochures about the joys and delights of working together in a factory. Take a factory tour! Join a factory! Disappear in a factory!
The SHIELD agent in question is sizing up matters, cursing her fate.

That's enough for Buck to do his very best to vanish, post-haste. Time to bug out for West Germany, by the best route he knows.

It seems like the news of the assassin, spy, or whatever it was that shot, has Agnes quite hysterical. She's not thinking properly, she hasn't even asked for her papers back, she's just latching on to the nearest soldier and presses her face against him as she cries. Using his larger body to hide herself, as if the shooter might get her at any moment. She hadn't refused to go see the Captain, so it's likely if they'll work together to help her along, she'll follow them. But it seems she's far too paniced to make sense of their request, just staying in her spot by her wouldbe protector and bawling like a helpless person in a deadly situation.

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