2019-03-20 - Cafeteria Hostage Crisis


A detonation in the SHIELD cafeteria leaves several wounded and heralds a very bizarre hostage situation in their own home.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Wed Mar 20 03:01:49 2019
Location: Triskelion

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Theme Song



====== Chaos at HQ ======

The cafeteria winds down after around 1:30 as people return to their desks and the lunch rotations break. All is going quietly for Taco Tuesday(tm) in the Triskelion building that serves as the world headquarters for S.H.I.E.L.D. The normal workday is even depressingly average. Nothing blew up in the lab, the pinball high score is still maintained, and the Director's been in meetings downtown all day. Everyone's working on their own projects until 2:23 p.m.

The alarm goes off and red klaxon lights flash their warning. Did someone let the coffeepot run empty? No. But oh the blaring alarms! Now people are rushing about!

Bobbi Morse is actually in one of the labs today. They haven't let her poke at it, since robotics is most certainly not her specialty, but she's waiting on some lab reports to come back on that mechanical centipede thing she brought back from the Disaster Zone a few days back. She's sitting on a stool, all safety glassed and lab coated up, watching more qualified people poke at the various bits and bobs, when the alarm goes off. "Is Clint out of coffee or something?" she asks the nearest lab tech in regard to the alarms, even as she shrugs out of the coat and heads for the door.

Doug had been at his desk, and had just put his finishing touches on compiling his report blowing the lid way off the intergalactic human trafficking ring that had been present in New York for the last century plus — and had just submitted it, before he leaned back, and looked at the portrait of his tortoise, and then at his graduation photo.

"You know maybe it wouldn't kill me to take a week off—" He starts, as alarm klaxons go off. "Huh!?"

Simmons is at her own lab station when the alarms turn on. Looking up, she frowns, pulling her lab coat closer around her. She hasn't heard this sound before while she has been working, so she slips off of her stool and looks about, looking directly to Bobbi. "This isn't normal, is it?" Taking off her safety goggles, she looks about and then slowly puts them back on. "What does that mean?"

An agent in the same SHIELD nondescript suit of the structured side of things falls in next to Sarah being in the same hall. A glance is given to her and her ID. Her own ID reads Agent Rebecca Davros, Level 5. Her stride is long and brisk greeting Sarah half out of breath and with concern, "You're picking a hell of a time for your first day here, Agent." Into her earpiece and over the internal signal she speaks, "Something detonated in the cafeteria level three. Ian, this is Davros, do you copy?" And to that end there is no answer on the coms. "Ian this is Davros, what's your 20?" Looking around she tries again, "Any field agents available to assist? This is Davros heading down to Three. Detonation in Cafeteria, possibly wounded. Cause of situation unknown."

Meanwhile, out at the reception/security desk, Sarah Black, newly seconded to WAND/New York from MI-13, only moments ago finished up with the various presentation of credentials, retina scanning, and whatever other means were being employed to ascertain that she was, indeed, her, before that all-important SHIELD ID (and lanyard!) could be issued. As the alarms start to sound, she exclaims, "Bloody hell! Couldn't wait five minutes for the welcome disaster? Give me that!" She slips the lanyard over her head, starts to turn away from the desk, and then stops, quickly shrugging out of her stylish trenchcoat and tossing it through a hastily-conjured portal. Under it, she's revealed to be wearing a black three-quarter-sleeve sweater and a pair of faded blue jeans. Once her coat is stashed, she hurries on into the building, looking for the source of the disturbance, or anyone who can point her toward it. Which bring her promptly to the encounter with Agent Davros.

"I've only just gotten in, so if you could lead the way, please?"

Bobbi swipes her leather jacket off a hook outside the lab, along with the back holster for her battle staves, sliding both items on and trading out the safety glasses for her own goggles. She gives Simmons a bit of a shrug. "Usually? Something not great. Stay close, Jemma." The tall blonde unlimbers the staves from her holster and twirls the pair of batons expertly in her hands. "Hopefully it's just a glitch or something. Usually they'll make an announcement…" And there it is over the comms. "Agent Morse en route to assist," she replies, heading that way with a grimace.

Doug looks up, and then frowns. He looks over at the holstered pistol hanging on a stand behind his desk, and then he grabs it and shrugs it on, hiding it under his suit-coat, before he heads out. Wisdom would say to stay where he is and wait for the all-clear. Instinct says… something different. Doug learned a long time ago to trust his instincts.

Not great. Simmons frowns and keeps her lab coat on. That's probably not the best way to try and infiltrate anything, but that's what she's doing, as a lab coat makes her feel safe. Grabbing a screwdriver and a vial of something that will dissolve fabric that she has been working on, she looks ready to rock and roll…and this is despite the fact that she is less than ready to rock or roll. "Should I say that I should assist as well? I have put in for my field assignment." Is this the right time for this? Who knows.

Inside the Cafeteria Ian starts to come to and sees around him several tables flipped and pushed back and an unconscious server passed out atop of him. From his vantage point absolutely nothing looks scorched or reduced to rubble. The other thing that is very disconcerting is that the cook is visible yelling "Hey you can't be in he-" They always say that. It never goes well. What usually doesn't happen is someone flailing, 4' hovering in the air and being dragged up the wall by an angry ghost or something. At least he can move.

Everyone else seems to converge outside the door. Agent Davros is still calling into her headset, "Ian this is Davros, what's your 20? Do you copy?" For all her bluster she stays professionally calm as she draws her sidearm looking, well, concerned. She nods to Doug, Jemma, and Bobbi as they show. "Director leaves it becomes Lord of the Flies. You heard anything from the inside?"

The smol agent finally answers with a groan and a push on his com button. "This is Ian…its…there's someone floating on the wall…ugh…I got knocked out by a blast of something. Not fire. Its ok in here. There was…a bald man? Someone yelled that they couldn't be in there. I think the suspect is still in here." He reaches out to grab the server with both hands by the back of their shirt, and then shamble-drags the other person closer to the wall, then kicks over a table to try and give himself some cover. There's a lot of heavy breathing into the com while this happens.

"I'd normally pause for introductions, but this doesn't seem the time," Sarah says to Doug, Jemma, and Bobbi as the group gathers, her accent clearly marking her as a Brit. "I /would/ appreciate it if someone could tell me what in Hell is going on, though."

"You better let them know you're coming, yeah," Bobbi tells Simmons as she heads for the stairwell to get down to the proper level for the cafeteria. She skids to a halt beside Davros and grits her teeth. "Nope," she replies to the agent's question. "This is why I never eat lunch here. Did the mashed potatoes become sentient and eat someone?" she asks. She heard about that pizza incident!

Doug pauses, and puts a finger over his mouth. "Give me a moment." He takes a deep breath, and opens his senses. He watches. He listens. He takes in the details, everything around him that he can see, everything around him that he can hear. Details sort themselves out in his mind and jumble together before he starts to put the pieces he can see together like a puzzle. "Excuse me for just a moment, I may get a bit distant."

As Bobbi comes to a stop, so does Simmons. It's clear she's looking for way to emulate and learn. She looks at the others and nods, introducing herself. "Jemma Simmons." Then, a pause. "Wait, did we say we were not introducing ourselves? How do we know how to contact each other moving forward? I think I'm supposed to say I"m Agent Simmons and I'm supposed to let you know I'm coming…or here. I'm here now." She gives a thumbs up. If nothing else, she is enthusiastic." Frowning, she looks toward the cafeteria. "Can we run a diagnostic on the air within? It's possible someone filtered in a drug of some sort."

Inside the body is dragged and the caf-table bulwark is propped up. There's movement in the galley part of the kitchen where food prep takes place. A quick assessment around shows a point of ingress: a door in the back propped open a bit.

Doug is able to do a rapid assessment of exactly what can cause these problems and the direction of things. It's simple trajectory.

Where the others are concerned there's the sound of the table being kicked over and more distantly the sound of someone sniveling in the form of the injured cafeteria worker Ian dragged to safety. That arm should not bend as such. It's hard to tell what injuries might be sustained from this angle without getting closer or if some manner of toxin is employed.

The Mockingbird's study of the barricade will reveal that the door is lightly blocked by debris that with a nudge can be pushed open. No one tried to make a deliberate effort to bar entry.

Where Sarah is concerned there is no specific energy signatures interrupting ley lines, but there is the sharp high-pitched tone out that she picks up sliding her focus into things arcane giving a dull migraine that seems to grow sharper in the direction of a specific source at one end of the cafeteria. That's one bummer of a magic compass!

Davros nods in agreement with Sarah looking relieved, relaying to the group, "I got Ian on comms. He said there's a bald someone in there, or was, and possibly a ghost? Something has Pat the chef in a Vader choke hold." She sighs, "I swear to god if this has anything to do with the asset and the weapon we might be in for a ride here."

Sarah says to Simmons, "That's actually a bloody good idea, before we all go charging in there and get gassed ourselves." She then speaks a few more words, probably unintelligible to anyone present, other than herself and Doug, while making some quick-but-elaborate gestures with both hands. A pair of shields fashioned of glowing lines in geometric arrangements flare into being in the air before her. "Agent Sarah Black, MI-13, seconded to WAND. And so far having a just /lovely/ first day on posting, thank you for asking."

Bobbi shoves the door open with a grunt as she asks back at Davros, "Which asset and what weapon!?" Because details, people! She needs them. She moves inside, keeping low and sweeping the cafeteria for any movement. If she goes down, they'll know real quick if there is a toxin.

Ian slumps against the wall where he's at and pretty well ignores the cafeteria worker after he's deposited them behind the screen. His bedside manner is non-existant, no comfort, no…you're gonna make it through this. He still needs work on his empathy. He sits there for a moment, trying to get his head on straight, then he runs his fingers up the side of his left leg and gets the small handgun from within its compartment there. There's some soft robotic sounds. ~"Back of the kitchen…the door is open."~ It comes through in Russian, first. Then he seems to correct himself and says, in English, "target is in the kitchen…" A pause. "Which asset?" He just assumes terrible-wonderful things when it comes to the weapon and doesn't ask.

Doug is silent, for a long time, and then he says, "There's no residuals or waste heat evidence that would indicate a weapons discharge, so that indicates a different source. There's a meta in there, but I can't determine what they're trying to do based on what I'm seeing." He grimaces. "Motive unclear, but they seem to have locked themselves down in the cafeteria, at least for now—that last part's a guess." He watches Bobbi move in, and then exhales, before he unholsters his pistol and moves in to cover her. .oO(I'm just an Analyst. What in the WORLD am I doing.)

In contrast to that, Simmons' response is immediate. The door is opened. Toxins or not toxins, there are people who need medical help beyond those doors. She gives a look to Sarah with a bit of a smile of thanks at being told her idea is a good one before everything moves forward. Then, she can see inside and rushes forward, ducked down to help those that need her expertise. "Pleasure, Agent Black, I hope you will have my back, then."

Immediately, she goes for the workers that have injuries.

The door is visible once Bobbi muscles the door open. Davros crouches down to move so she can at least get a visual on her sometimes partner/sometimes royal pain in the ass, Agt. Ian while covering Jemma to respond. A nod seems to inquire to the curt man inquiring about his condition before returning eyes on the situation. Her voice is kept low, "I don't know a lot of details other than they sent Hawkeye on some mission to some Hydra base in the frozen ass-end of Russia and it was to retrieve some asset that's some super weapon they were going to turn on the UN. I wasn't in the debriefing. It's been classified but they could be here for that or that think you found Morse."

From the kitchen someone's digging around or through something. They could be making anything though those with a chemistry background would note no notable fumes from here that can be picked out, and still no mystic signature. If it is a ghost it is ghosting really well.

As Simmons heads toward the wounded, Sarah says, "If I only knew where the Infirmary was, I could send you all there. This will have to do — Should be safer out there, at least." She makes a circular gesture in the air, and a portal in the air irises open, with glowing lines defining its edges. The opening is taller than it is wide, roughly approximating the dimensions of a typical room door. The area near the front desk and main entrance can be seen through it. She gestures to the uninjured and anyone else ambulatory, shouting, "You! You lot, who can walk on your own — Go on through!"

Bobbi rolls her eyes at the update on the situation. "Oh, you just needed to say it's Clint's fault. I think we actually have an entire training manual for ''Agent Barton screwed up'' situations," she grumbles. She heads for the kitchen, moving at a good clip, and frowning. "Yo! I know Taco Tuesday was dishonored by the tofu-gluten free-non-dairy movement, but this is really taking the protest too far!" she declares to whomever is in there.

"Hmmm." Doug pauses, and then makes a measuring gesture with his hand. "The blast originated four feet off the ground…" He squints, at the crinkling noise. "Tin foil?" Then he pauses, and puts his hand on Bobbi's shoulder, and puts his finger over his mouth. "Shh." He moves toward the door to the kitchen, stands next to it, and modulates his tone very carefully, eliminating any *trace* of threat from his speech. "Hi. Hungry, huh?"

Ian gets up from wall position and leads with the barrel of a gun, peeking up from the blockade to get a visual of his own. "I can hear the subject. Its making something in there though. Shit." He pulls back the gun when Simmons walks across his sight. "Hey, subject is still active…" he warns, taking cover again.

As Simmons quickly starts to assess the wounds, it all happens quicker and quicker. The Agent she worried was bleeding out is covered in cranberry sauce. It's actually something of a relief. Moving forward, she makes her way to the other injured and finds Ian and the man he dragged to safety. "Everything will be okay," she quickly tells him. Whether that is true or not? She certainly believes it and that conveys a truth to them as well.

Assessing Ian, she tries to sit him upward. He may have a mild concussion, he needs to keep awake and alert. Without telling him why, she engages: "What happened? We'll need a full report. Can you tell me what you remember?"

Then, she moves the man he pulled away. Assessing that he dislocated his arm and broken his arm, she quickly starts to pull her lab coat into strips to pull things together. She frowns. "What happened to him?" she asks.

The people huddled in there look to the new agent in denim and portals and scramble, carefully through it. They're all low level clerks and one guy who just handles things in the mail room. Still they are grateful and that plan goes really well.

Ian's head starts growing heavy and focus is hard. He can hear a bit of…Russian? Yeah, but the room does start to spin. The man on the ground with the shoulder that needs to be reseated and covered in cranberry is, unfortunate, but manageable for the woman with more Ph.D.s than free time. Rebecca moves to help Jemma leaving the pistol out, but taking refuge behind cover, "Ian, stay awake for us here. Jemma, what can I do to help you?"

The kitchen, however, and Doug's approach, Bobbi behind him pulls up a small voice answering in staggered Russian with some difficulty, <Clint said…here…sandwich.> There's a grunt of frustration and more tin foil. <"Hot! now!"> It's just a kid? A child did this. A closer look at the person that sniffs once and tries to TK and wrestle with the foil looks to be a juvenile male about 7 years old, and underfed for his size. Scars from electrodes and markings on him are evident. There's also an unconscious but breathing (barely) body of Pat slumped against the freezer door.

This is the assert/weapon the retrieval team was there to go get?!

Once the noncombatants are out, Sarah lets the portal close, bringing one hand to her forehead as she does and commenting aloud, "Whatever's making my head hurt, I'd really like for it to stop." The brunette moves over to where Jemma and Rebecca are crouched by the injured man, interposing in a haif-crouch to add her shields' cover to whatever they're behind. "I can open another portal if you want to get him out of here," she offers. "At least I can if this headache doesn't get any worse."

Bobbi quiets at Doug's urging, and she backs him in whatever play he seems to be making here. She holds her staves at the ready, one high, one low. At the sound of the child's voice she lowers both and slides them back into the holster. She shifts into flawless Russian and rounds the corner. <Rypka> A Russian term of endearment roughly translating to 'fishlet'. <Would you like me to warm that up for you? I am old friend of Clint's.> She opens the microwave door and beckons the kid to put the goddamned hot pocket into it. She is so kicking her ex-husband's ass later.

Doug exhales, and then he takes his gun and sets it on the floor. "This one's my wheelhouse, Mockingbird—" He walks into the kitchen, his hands held up where they can be seen. 'Hi.' Doug says, walking into the kitchen, his hands where they can be seen. '…My name is Doug. I can help." He opens the fridge, and looks around, before he opens it up and takes out some potato salad. 'Most of the food here isn't very good. But I like this.' He hunts around, until he finds a spoon, and then moves to hold it out to the boy. 'You know, I knew a girl… she was Russian. Like you. A lot of people were scared of her. Sometimes she was scared of herself, but she was my friend. You can just eat whatever you want, till you're full. Just don't make yourself sick. Okay?'

Simmons looks to Rebecca an then back toward what she now considers her charges. The others will lock down the cafeteria, but she stays where she is focused. The question from Rebecca is met with a look and then an explanation. "Questions. Keep him awake. We should find out what he thinks happened." Ian doesn't seem to be bleeding, so there doesn't need attention right at the moment. "And also what actually happened."

AS she moves to the other person, she sets his shoulder. It's painful, but necessary. Then, as she turns back to Ian, she realizes that his eyes are closed. "Ian?" She frowns. Unwilling to shake him, she tries to put him into a comfortable position. "We need to get him to the medical labs."

Agt. Davros looks to Sarah with an impressed look just blinking at the portal. "WAND , huh?" She shakes her head taking a deep breath, "I am never going to get used to that. Yeah we can …" She looks to the room and Doug laying arms down curious but focusing on their part here and getting her partner to safety. "We need to get the injured to safety." Looking over and back she sighs, "The weaponized asset they recovered from Hydra seems to be a kid? A kid that can do all this? I am really hoping this is not part of some psychic winter soldier serum situation." She'll never be able to say that out loud again in one go. Still she does as Jemma asks. "Agent," Says she to Sarah, "One floor down opposite corner of the building is med bay. Can you get us close with your door… portal thing?"

The pale child eyes the adults warily, eyes white and faintly glowing blue. But they speak a language he can more easily understand and grasps out of it something about knowing Clint, though he hugs the hot pocket protectively. When Bobbi opens the microwave he slowly shoves the frozen panini at her with both hands and fails to let go on the first try. This happens when Doug starts talking to him. The kid doesn't speak much but he is hanging on that story and watches him get the potato salad. The other hand takes the spoon from Doug and looks at it funny, and sits down on the floor of the kitchen and starts eating it. <"Friend project?> He's asking about the friend in question. Sure he might have leveled some furniture and some wait staff, but a 7 year old is always curious. Pale eyes snap to Bobbi when the microwave dings,. A guarded expression waits for her to try to take the hot pocket. Not really socialized much, but at least today's volatile weapon comes with its own pajamas.

Bobbi nukes the hot pocket and then removes it at the ding, wrapping it carefully in paper towels before handing it to the child with a warning <Very hot. Be careful, make a small corner bite to let it cool off first.> A caution Clint never learned or remembers. Then she toggles her comm. "This is Agent Morse. Please find whoever is responsible for the recently acquired Russian-speaking asset in size 8 PJs, and send them down to the cafeteria kitchen to recover their lost package. Thanks." Pause. "Also tell Agent Barton I'm going to punch him in the face."

Shaking her head to Davros, Sarah replies, "I can't do it blind, no. I can open portals line-of-sight, or to places I've been. Why I sent that other lot out to the lobby. Only place here I knew."

Doug looks up at Bobbi, and says, "I've seen it a thousand times. Heck, a couple of times I've *been* this kid, ma'am." He sits down next to the kid on the floor, and then says, 'Yes, she's a very good friend of mine. We went to a school together. A school where people like her, and I… and maybe you, if you wanted to go there someday, can learn. Do you want me to tell you about it? It's not far from a little town, and it's surrounded by trees, and next to a lake. It looks like a castle. And there's all kinds of people there, from kids your age to… well, kids *my* age, all working and learning together. Here.' He gets his phone out of his pocket, and shows the kid a photo of him in his crimson graduation robes and mortarboard, with several of his friends, many of which are obviously not human. They look as happy as graduating students can look. 'This is us. That's her, right there.' He points to she of the resting witch-face.

As Simmons finishes ensuring the safety of the others, she looks up to see the child with the blue eyes. Is this something she has the clearance to see? Should she already wish to make sure that child is alright? Yes. She does in fact wish that, though, she remains by the unconscious figure of Ian as well as the other figures nearby to ensure they are alright. Should the child need other looking after, she can hope (or perhaps request) an attempt to look in on them.

A voice answers Bobbi over the comms , "Of course while the director's out. We'll come retrieve them. I… let's never speak of this to the Director? I won't tell Barton why you need to talk to him?"

As for the explanation on portals Agent Davros gives Sarah a bit of a grin, "Still, great work." Changing her signal she calls it in, "This is Agents Davros and Simmons requesting medical transport for three in the cafeteria. Situation tentative but secure." Looking back to the cafeteria where all seems to be quiet she looks to Sarah and Simmons, "I can't honestly decide if I want to know or if I really really don't" But access can be requested over time.

Hot pocket handling go pretty well and the child seems to stop slinging massive psychic shock waves around. Now that he has something to eat Sarah will also notice that migraine subside. Finally at the end, the Asset doesn't answer Doug but he does get a smile.

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