1965-05-16 - Debriefing: Strike Team Awesome
Summary: Not great news, and yes Clint, this is a serious op. Thank you for not drawing a mustache on the surveillance footage
Related: None
Theme Song: None
clint fitz 


Fitz was waiting pacing around one end of the director's office biting his thumbnail reading the rest of his debriefing waiting for… well, the small team. On the edge of the desk was an untouched cup of coffee.

Fitz looks like he's in the middle of a fit, himself, and much as he is wont to do, Clint is definitely Bartoning pretty hard this afternoon when he walks into the director's office. Envelope from Fitz in hand and dressed in what only be called 'homeless man chic' from the tear in his jeans and the worn leather jacket, Clint is still hiding behind his sunglasses when he steps inside and takes a look around. "Fitz?"

Fitz pitched both eyebrows upward and gestured with a sigh, Have a, um, have a seat. I'm just going through the particulars of this mission. THey asked me to debrief you. I know the dossier wasn't very forthcoming," so sayeth he Scotsman torn between being too analytical and being a human being. Taking a deep breath he gestured, "Get comfortable, and-" He winces letting his free hand hang in the air, "Please don't take your pants off and nap under the Director's desk again. This is a rather serious matter."

An 'um seat'? Clint arches an eyebrow over the rim of his glasses and looks at the chairs. "Are you going to pace the whole time? Because I might stand if you're gonna do that." Holding out his hands, Barton pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and at least stands beside the noted chair. "Leo. Just do me a favor and take a breath. We're team 'awesome', so let's get this done, okay?" The note about taking his pants off and napping draws forth a flat look at the scientist, pulling back on the helpful track, Clint drops his envelope on the desk with a limp 'fwap' and drops into his chair loosely. "Fine. Go. What's the deal?"

Fitz paused and just stared at Clint. Clint was a great many things, but worked up was never on the roster. Moody, irritable, irreverent? Maybe, but he never lost his head that Fitz knew. Taking a deep breath he nodded and walked around to sit on teh desk at a turn leavin on e foot on the ground. The manilla folder was set on the desk. The other hand gripped Clint's shoulder and patted it once nodding. "Right. Okay. Team awesome." Deep breath. Analytical self, take over. He centered and looked up to Clint, "Hydra has made a weapon. They constructed something that has the ability to have some…weapon that if it goes off would be…catastrophic." Taking a deep breath he summed up, "SHIELD wants the three of us to retrieve this tot take it out of Hydra's hands before the UN meets."

And right now, Fitz gets to deal with 'moody' over the rather innocuous poke at his pride. Eh, clearly he's left his armor in his other pants. The pat to his shoulder given little to no recognition while he leans back in his chair, giving Fitz full 'fuck you I'm a slacker' moodiness while he launches into his explanation. "So it's Tuesday, cool. Blah, blah, blah, HYDRA, blah, blah, blah, world extinction event coinciding with world leaders meeting." He inhales a breath and nods. "Okay. So where we going? And what the hell is this thing that Marcy down in redactions went nuts? I could get high smelling the marker fumes on this thing, Fitz."

Fitz frowned and furrowed his brow, "Apparently it was a parting gift from Marcy before we fly out to Kamchakta. I swear the only reason the place exists is so people playing Risk can argue over enunciation." Okay a tad bit of an attempt at humor was there. "Yeah, iit's Tuesday. This one though they haven't passed to anyone else. You're being sent in alone with Kitty to get there and retrieve…whatever they're working on is highly volatile. You'll need to move Kitty in so she can take the weapon offline and move it. I'll be handling your deployment and exfiltration and comms. But… as you'll be doing all of this alone laying down whatever support is required I made you a few toys for the trip."

Alone with Kitty. Clint's attention comes about, though it's not for any lewd reason being sent in with Shadowcat. The perpetual storm slowly swirling in his keen gaze focuses on Fitz. "Strike team numbers." Three man crew? The gravity of the delicacy dawns on Clint and actually gets his attention. Not the normal smash and grab job? Shit, better pay attention! "She cleared for the field or is this an escort mission?" He lifts a hand lightly. "I like new toys. What do you got?"

Fitz cracked a faint, but remiss smile. Now he was getting it. "She's a trained operative. And… she has some talentsthat SHIELD's not released beyond need to know. It's trusted you will keep it this way, but once in getting out will be very difficult with she and the cargo in tact. So, of our agents we were chosen aaaaand we need you to run this op on teh ground, Clint." This would be the reason why he was pacing. It could very well get all three of them killed.

Clint looks pretty not-at-all surprised over the revelation that Kitty has /talents/. "Another totally normal person who isn't at all normal. Got it. I'll be sure to practice my 'whoa!' face the first time she does…whatever." He nods a couple times and taps his tongue on his lower lip, immediately rubbing away the spot it made with a curled finger. "Okay, so you need fewer optics getting in, but getting out she's going to need someone on point and that's where it's more of an escort." His mind was clicking around like a series of safeguarded lock mechanisms on a puzzle, trying to get through each level in order. "Okay. Do we have any eyes on this place? Know what we're dealing with?"

Fitz sighed and shook his head, "Shouldn't be at all necessary." WHen Clint started getting that brain of his into traction there warmed a faint smile and Fitz relzed a bit, "Yeah, actually. I pulled up surveilance photos we were able to get our hands on out of general archives. This is all very hush hush where things are concerned even in office in case of moles, so there may be more maps than what we need. Rest assured, yes, I ahve an ariel surveilance photo. I've been working on those short and long range EMP arrowheads for you. Again, tempermental. Will not work with a gun. If you threw it? Eh I dunno if it'd be able to compress on the internal contacts. If you had to use something like a dart? That'd likely still work." He paused and went tight lipped. "I tested one in the lab…." Looong pause and he hung his head, "That was poor locationally. But I can guarantee they work. Gives a blackout time of maybe five minutes."

"Those EMPs were sexy," Clint comments while he's still thinking about maps and how to get Kitty out, but more than that…how does he get himself IN. Kitty might have some way in there but it's suggested he will not. "Well, I've got more than just the arrows if something else would work better with them. None of them are propelled like a gun so if it's finnicky, we should be able to find something. As long as I get hold it in my hand and it has SOME aerodynamic capacity we should be okay. Arms aren't just for show, Fitzy." He inhales a deep breath and it all looks like an impressive peacocking at least. The idea of using it in the lab makes him wince. "In the lab? That…wow. Yeah no, how bad did you get it from above?"

|ROLL| Fitz +rolls 1d20 for: 18

Fitz listened to Clint drop his list of options and versatility. By the end Leo deadpanned, "Me? There was a brownout on the grid. I dunno whatever you're tlkaing about." He blinked. Man, he could really be a damn good liar when he needed to. Flipping the dossier open he handed Clint the ariel surveilance pictures. "Also, We know you can. It's why you were selected. Fighting's great and all, but you have the utilityand adaptation we're going to need if you, Kitty, and myself are going to be leaving Kamchakta with cargo in tact. Soooo." He took a deep breath pressing his lips together with a nod, "I actually have faith in this plan." That part he wasn't bullshitting about. "We go in, I'll stay with the jet on comms. I have the drones we need for short distance thatwill be able to place signal relays further out if we need them, ummm like a mobile antennae if you will. You both sneak in together. She'll take the weapon offline, and it'll be on you to inprovise getting out because I dare say… they'll notice. We make it back to evac and if all goes on plan, I'll get us flying home." He paused and set his jaw, "There is… one more thing. SHIELD directive's asked if we can't extract the weapon they want it perminantly disabled. SO. In interest in not making this super complicated or risking you and she being at ground zero? Let's… make sure we're ready going in. I'll want a list of anything else you need from manufacturing."

A brownout. Uh huh.

Clint smirks.

And moves along swiftly in the conversation.

Clint leans forward to start flipping through surveilance and photos otherwise, getting his head around the shape of the animal they're about to poke. His attention doesn't stay there long however, lifting back up while Fitz talks, absorbing the details. The plan. Nodding slowly, he cracks a wry smile on the exit plan. "Improvising is what I do best. You should see my improv crew at the chuckle hut on Thursdays." Clint Barton, everyone. "Sure. I can get you the rough shape of things from the manufacturing floor. So you going to tell me what Kit-Kat does, or is that a conversation I get to have with her on the plane ride out?"

Fitz chuckled, and seemed at least mildly reassured. Overall he was clinging to technical aspects trying not to think about the rest. "She, in succinct fashion, manipulates matter density….she walks through things. Getting out with everything in tact will be challenging as sometimes she seems to have a problem causing electric shorts."

"Huh," Clint offers simply, then falls silent to think about that for a moment. "Cool. So she's a walking emp ghost. But it's not so much she can run in and out because we're going to be waving an enormous weaponized flag." He shrugs and nods. "Oh yeah. We got this."

Fitz relaxed a smile and nodded. "Yeah that's the sum of it. Retrieve or decomission. Those are our options. Clint?" The scientist thought for a long while about something and in the end summed up, "I can't say I feel better about this, but it's nice to go with someone I can trust on it. We have 36 hours."

Clint glances again at the photos, but his eyes hop back up when Fitz says his name. "Yeah?" Waiting for that summation simply because it feels weighty. His smartassery falls back briefly, his expression stilling as he really looks at Fitz for a beat. Then it's gone and he smirks. "We're strike team awesome, Fitz. 36 hours." The archer stands and picks up his envelope again, smacking it lightly on the desk before turning around and heading for the door. "Making sure the world stays free. Should be some great bragging rights. You know, if anyone ever was going to know about it."

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