Summary:Repairing a drone, it's time to debrief and … brief Agent Barton Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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For a soldier, Jeriah London is proving surprisingly adept with robotics and electronic tools. He's got one of his drones laying on a table with it's left front leg partially disassembled. As it turns out the actuator had been cracked and bent by the explosion. These are rugged machines and armored to boot but that does happen sometimes.
Which means he has to fabricate a new actuator. And… damned if he isn't doing exactly that, making use of SHIELD's engineering space like he knows what everything does. Which it seems like… he does.
Jeriah's appropriation of the engineering space hasn't been met with too much approval by some of the SHIELD engineers. They're curious of course but the way the man has just kind of … owned … it has rankled a little. Particularly considering how well he seems to know the equipment and space. "Mister London, the revolutions on the autolathe need to be lower if you're milling that…" It's not the first time Johnson has 'offered' advise to the contractor since he's been in here.
There's been no sign of Jemma since they got back. She might have been sent to SHIELD medical for a check up after that knock but more likely she's been cloistered in her laboratory trying to decode the harddrives she found, cataloguing the materials she'd found and preparing her report for the system.
Either way, she's just entering the engineering space as this discussion starts, preoccupied by the tablet she's holding and one of the drives. She's not really paying attention to anything else, yet.
"It's a inconel rod, Johnson." Jariah sighs. "If I lower the speed we'll be here all night. It'll take the heat, trust me. That's what it's designed for." He's looking through some of the supplies here in the shop. "Just, holy hell, do you guys have any milspec filler metal or are you using something else?"
No. No. No. No. No. Oh wait. That looks like a coil of flux core… yes. Yes it is. This will do nicely. He picks up the spool of wire and brings it on over to the machine he's using.
"Hey, Jemma! Careful. Don't trip over that grounding lead. You've got enough metal in you to light up like a Christmas tree!"
"You'll get less scoring and the result will be more polished." Johnson sighs. He's an engineer not a field agent and they create good stuff here. Of course, what London is doing is good and Johnson's being pedantic. It might get him some looks from the … battle worn soldier. "What's a few more hours if the end result is good?"
"Filler metal that's over th—- never mind." Johnson sighs.
Jemma looks up as Jeriah speaks to her, then down at the ground and the cable that's snaked across the ground. "Why on earth is that here. Haven't you heard about workplace safety?" she shakes her head and looks at Johnson "Take a break. Go get dinner and leave Mister London alone. I'm sure he knows what he's doing."
Johnson protests mildly, giving Jeriah another look as he collects his coat. Heading out, but under great duress.
"You seem to know your way about an engineering space. Not what I'd expect from a soldier."
Jeriah sighs and holds up the assembly he's working on as if to say 'who exactly is going to be looking at this ankle joint?' But then Johnson is on his way out and London is settling back in with his welding machine.
"It's here because I need to weld something with a bit more finesse than your machine over there can handle." He nods over toward the robotic arm. It's good, but he'd have to program it and that would take longer than just doing it himself. Machines are mostly for doing the same thing over and over and over. If he does this right, Jeriah only has to do this once.
"I spent most of my career doing augmentics work. Robotics, cybernetics, that kind of thing. Picked up a lot of useful knowledge doing it."
Including apparently how to fabricate ankle actuators. "What brings you in here?"
Downstairs in the engineering space and away from the cubby hole he calls his office, Clint Barton rarely finds himself heading down this way without some sort of clear cut purpose. Usually it's to get the insight of one of the big brains, get their point of view, and this time's not really any different.
He darkens the doorway first, stepping into the engineering area backwards with his shoulder pushing open the door. A small cardboard carrier holds a pair of coffees and he wanders into the electronics area holding the beverages aloft as if they were the only way he could illuminate the crossing past all the electronica and gear.
"Hey hey, I need an engineer…" He's wearing his black combat suit, complete with red shades and his bow over his shoulder, but he's brought up short. "Oh, hey Simmons." Then he looks towards London, "You… are not the guy I usually talk to."
"I meant… why is the lead across the walkway…" Jemma shakes her head at the hacker soldier and puts the drive on the desk near the bench. "Your background is very spotty, Mister London. I would have thought you were simply a soldier but it seems you can hack and fabricate things as well… A man of mystery it seems."
She doesn't mention the carnage he created at the AIM facility they just raided. That might something she does later.
"I need help with the drive and since you're cleared to work on this project, you're about the only one qualified to do that. The encryption on this one is different to the others." She'll wait for the snark that follows that.
"Hello Clint." The biochem steps over the grounding lead to give the old archer some room. "Johnsons just gone for something to eat but let me introduce Jeriah London. One of the people looking at the AIM issue. Mister London, Agent Clint Barton."
"Because you don't have a lead long enough for me to run it around the walkway, that's why." The hacker-soldier sticks his tongue out at Jemma. "A man of highly redacted mystery. Yes. That's me."
And then Clint is walking in. With coffee. "I am definitely not the guy you usually talk to." Jeriah says as he turns around from the… very large robot dog/wolf he's working on. It's head comes up to look at Clint, almost like it's a real dog.
"Nice to meet you Agent Clint Barton. I'm just fixing some damage on my kit from the last raid."
He's not in a shield uniform, or a lab coat, so he is probably not a SHIELD employee. "What exactly did you need an engineer for?"
"London, yeah." Clint switches the coffee carrier to the other hand and then extends his own towards the soldier. A quick once over is given, stopping at the man's eyes then he gets a slight half-grin, "We're supposed to handle the guys in the yellow jump suits. Harper and me are to be your…" He looks over at Jemma as if making sure he's got the dynamic right, "Your muscle?"
But then he gives a slow steady nod, "Though some day I'd like some variety. Maybe a little honey pot operation here or there, some high stakes casino gambling." As he says this he unslings the collapsible bow from his shoulder and sets it on a table where it extends with a click-ka-clack.
"Ah, this was what I needed an engineer for," He gestures to the bow. "Took this version out and about for a run other night, felt sorta mushy. Like some sort of interference between its interface and the quiver."
As for the coffee he takes one and leaves the other coffee up for grabs, whomever is quickest to snatch it up.
It's coffee. It probably doesn't even register on Jemma's radar. Tea snob that she is. "Then speak to Johnson and get one long enough, Mister London. You don't want someone like tripping now, do you?" Not that Jemma would but you know.
"He's a member of the team, yes. And maybe muscle? Certainly that's going to be needed but we've a lot of information gathering and deciphering to be doing." Which is partly why she's here.
"I'm sure I can contrive a reason to get you into a casino, Clint. There's fourth member of the team. Doctor Kelly Dehaven. A Body Computer Interface expert. Amazing ability really." However, very new to the agency and even newer to field work. Not that Jemma says that.
"We've just returned from a raid, actually. Mister London made quite an impact. Gathered some raw materials which will help in determining how we might combat it. But that drive, is proving troublesome."
The dogs head when it moves, draws the biochems attention. "It's very realistic, Mister London. Makes me almost want to pat it and feed it treats. How likely is it that it will shoot if I tried?"
Jeriah does however pick up the coffee. Because coffee. He typically has his… well strong. Overbrewed really because no one in the military know how to make a good cup. But they do know how to wake up.
"Honeypot?" Jeriah chuckles. "I'll leave that to you, James Bond. I'm mostly good for shooting things. And controlling drones. Muscale, as you say. Let me take a look at that bow, though…"
"Mmmmmmmm. Mind if I take this housing off and poke at the interface?" He is of course not super familiar with the ins and outs of Clint's bow and quiver set up but he does know electronics so if something is wrong odds are good he'll be able to troubleshoo-
Clackclackclackclack. The big metal dog has started wagging it's big metal tail and it's slamming on the table.
"Hey. Stop that." The hacker says, giving the thing a look.
"If you feed it treats? No it'll probably like that. But I won't. Because it will try to eat them and then I have to clean that up. It's a robot. It doesn't have a stomach."
Ever a dog person, Clint gives a slight half-grin to the mechanical critter, but knows enough not to go touching things all willy-nilly in SHIELD's engineering labs. So he takes a sip of his coffee and then folds his arms over his chest, holding the paper mug against his arm idly as he considers the other two agents.
"A'right, let me know how it's gonna evolve our future operations. I'm wanting to line up something for that first file you sent me the other day."
Hawkeye then takes up a place leaning against a mostly empty table. He gestures with a nod towards London. "Knock yourself out, buddy. I got a million of them." Which, while not a million… he does have quite a few. But it most likely only takes a few moments to check the interface between the quiver and the new bow to see a version difference in the software SHIELD uses to interconnect the devices. An easy enough fix.
Over towards the dog he does take a moment to grin and ask, "Does it have a name yet?"
Jemma gives London a very flat look. "I meant pat it. But I can feed it treats. I might like to see you clean up the mess. Goodness knows you made enough of one on our last op." Jeriah probably likes his coffee burnt being a soldier and all that.
"I got one of the drives decoded and found some interesting stuff." She adds, activating the holo-display in the room. "Just let me … " Jeriah will sense the network connection she makes. Clint won't but what he'll see is the display light up. It's a series of documents, emails by the like. With codenames and locations. At least one or two of the names might look familiar to Clint. Contacts within the less savoury parts of his network.
And yes. Jemma just made that connection wirelessly with her … mind.
Jeriah looks up as Jemma shares the document. Mostly because he can feel her doing things on the local intranet. Of course Clint will probably just think he's giving her a look. Which he kind of is. Cleaning up messes indeed.
"Hrm. Well the actual machinery looks okay. No defects. No damage. Let me see if- oh. Oh there's the problem. Software mismatch. Hang on, I can fix that for you."
It's even got a self updater protocol it just didn't trigger. Once that's started - and it won't take long - he reattaches the housing and hands it back to Clint.
"There you go. Should work just fine."
Hazel blue eyes are drawn to the holo display briefly, eyes focusing on the display of some names and then on some of the details that flitter by. His brow knits in momentary concentration then he nods once. Only for in the next moment his attention to be drawn back towards Jeriah.
"Hm? Oh hey, that's great." He accepts the bow and checks it, sliding a thumb over the grip and activating its own much tinier holo HUD. There's a faint whir as his quiver flows through a selection sequence and on the display it shows the number of arrowheads available. A nod, "Perfect."
Back towards Jemma he says, "Alright, I'll take a look at the new intel." He turns towards Jeriah, "Then I'll see if I can get Harper and we'll go make a mess of the next place on the list. Hopefully we'll have more for you guys to sift through."
He slings the bow back over his shoulder onto its padded place on the combat suit and then adds, "If I get a vote," He points at the dog, "I vote for Potsie. Or is that dating myself too much?" He shrugs, "Ehn." And starts to turn towards the door to get onto work.
"Take London with you when you two do. He's good in a firefight and those dogs of his are … kind of amazing." Jemma adds, shaking her head. She can only imagine what the three of them together would be like. Arrows and dogs. Who'd have thought.
"When you're out there, Clint, I need reverbium samples. The facilities might have them, but I'm sure there's some in the wild." The bow gets a look as the arrows move through the quiver.
"Postie. As in Potsie Weber?" Jemma can't possibly be that old. Though there's reruns of the show on some of the channels. "You got a hot date or something?"
"Do you think you can take a look at the other drive while that part is milling?" That's to Jeriah.
"Maybe a hot operation." Jeriah says, turning from his work to lean back and watch the archer. "In a particular hurry, Barton?"
The man might be, Jeriah knows that. He's a SHIELD agent and therefore likely a very, very busy man. But it's interesting that me might just drop in and hop out as it were.
"Potsie. While I will admit that Potsie probably rolls off the tongue better than XT-104-A it doesn't really seem to suit his personality…"
He glances back at the bot which is still low-key wagging it's tail. "I might let them name you that if you're not careful." He murmurs quietly.
"I can take a look at the drive sure. Though I'm curious about that arrow and quiver set. That's a LOT of tech to put into that." And he's not sure he's even seen anything like that on Harper… though he hasn't seen Harper in the field.
"Yeah, Potsie. Either that or Ralph Malph." Pausing in his departure, Clint stops and flashes a wry half-smile towards Jemma and then gives a wink towards London as if sharing some sort of conspiracy. He quirks an eyebrow as he turns his attention back towards Jemma. "Nah, I was just going to be all impressive by demonstrating my work ethic, earn some points."
He stops at the door and then hops onto one of the empty tables there, just a little further away from them. "But something else you guys wanted to relate?" A glance is given to each in turn, "And yeah, you're welcome to look at the bow if you want. If you want one of your own though, well I got this copyright trademark deal." His lip twists.
"Probably an Operation…" Jemma agrees. "No need to impress me, Clint, I don't do your reviews and you're all entitled to a bit of down time."
Says she of the extended work hours and lack of sleep.
"There's more. The first drive has some good intel on it. Apart from those names and locations, there's these…"
The display changes again and delivery dockets appear from two or three freight companies. One of the addresses seems to be just on the inside of the Disaster Zone, which is strange. Getting in and out of there is difficult and businesses moved away from there. The others are more rural. Out of the way but certainly accessible.
"Satellite imaging of those last locations show there's nothing there. One of them is just an empty field."
The drive is handed to Jeriah. There's access to the SHIELD computers here, he should be able to use that to hook the drive up. "Knock yourself out." Jemma adds, looking at the Dog-bot sitting there. "More like a Fonzie, I think. Or a Charles."
"Sure thing. You know I'm trying to fix a bot here, right?" Jeriah says as he takes the drive and moves over one work station to where he can plug it in. Clint can see when he opens up a few programs and starts typing. Breaking encryption is such a pain.
"You're an agent they let fight with a bow and arrow. Unless SHIELD is seriously behind the times I think that proves your work ethic." He goes quiet to listen a bit, though.
"But it's the Cadillac of bow and arrows, to be fair." Clint says with a fingeritp lifted.
Jemma, however, brings up a point to the Avenger/Shield Operative, "Does anyone do my reviews?" Since it's been… a dog's age since he's had a direct report or supervisor. Then again there had been some kerfluffle ages ago amongst the brass about who would have Barton under them. Not exactly always a positive influence back in the day.
Yet he holds up a hand as if to wave off the issue, "Any case, what do you think is more imperative at the moment? Precision or speed? If we need to hit all of these facilities quickly then…" He looks towards Jeriah then back to Simmons, "Mebbe we should split up, take what support we can, and try and get a bunch of them in one swoop."
"We need data and we don't have it." Jemma answers Clint, giving Jeriah a look. "I know you're fixing a bot… That piece is milling, right?"
The encryption of that drive is complex. The next level to what they've encountered before which probably indicates a new player within their technical team. It's going to take a hot minute before it's broken, at the least.
"All we know at the moment, is that AIM is developing this. The applications are horrifying but we don't know what for. Are they doing it for themselves? Or is there a buyer? Taking them out might slow things down, right?"
"Then there's the supply chain. Targetting that, so AIM can't relocate and restart. Hitting the facilities is a stop gap measure, unless I'm mistaken."
Jeriah gets a look as Jemma considers. "You've both more experience with that side of things than I do. Personnel is an issue, an all out assault just doesn't seem feasible, too many locations and too many unknowns."
"If we hit them one at a time we run the risk of them realizing that their locations are compromised and evacuating before we can get everything." Jeriah muses. "But if we hit them all at once we'll have to commit teams to each of them and I don't know if everything going on if SHIELD has those kind of resources."
He makes a face. "What we really need are ways in that don't involve shooting. OR… or someone with contacts to draw on folks outside of SHIELD who could help us out."
Beat. "Or the Avengers. That would work too, I suppose."
Contacts. Well, veteran SHIELD agents often have contacts. Clint makes his bread and butter with his contacts and does he know heroic types?
Very likely, yes.
He taps a few more buttons and lets the console run. He'll get something out of that drive eventually.
"Can you get support to hit one or more of these facilities, Agent? I mean, you know. Support that isn't in this room right now." There's Harper. He'd be good. If they had a few more folks…
"Well, I mean…" Clint pauses a moment and looks to the side, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb nail and looking a little pained. "You're not gonna like it, but I agree with London. We could try and wrangle up some help from folks outside the whole…" He lifts a hand and waves it around, indicating the entirety of the building itself but most likely meaning SHIELD.
"Plenty of folks running around on rooftops that owe me a favor or two, and hey…" His and Jeriah's thoughts run along the same path it's clear. He tilts his head to the side and smiles a roguish grin, "It's me. So they're bound ta say yes."
That said he then holds up his hands as if to stave off objection, "Just give it some thought." Though to London he nods, "I could probably get a few, just…" He looks at Jemma and says, "They might not entirely fit the whole bill for a SHIELD operative."
"You've been gone too long, if you think I'm not going to like it." Jemma says dryly. Things have changed just a little for the woman, really. "I don't want what happened to me to happen to anyone else and since then I've lost a family of four and two of Asgardian descent. There's still three people in my infirmary that we're fighting to save."
Oh yes, the biochem is all in for getting what help that they need.
"I have some budget to pay for consultants. WAND has been using that approach for a while now. Not necessarily people that SHIELD would employ but those that can get the job done." beat "After all, they sent me London here …"
If she could poke her tongue out, she might.
"We won't be able to acknowledge them as such, but if you need to pay them or something, there's that."
The drive chugs away, another layer gone at least. This isn't like TV hacking, encryption breaking is slow and tedious.
"What do you need? And what about you, Jeriah? Anyone from your old stomping grounds you can speak to? Or is it just you and your dogs?" Why does that sound like an 'old cat lady'.
"You do not want to employ the kind of people I used to work with. I mean don't get me wrong. They're good people. But PMC's operating on American soil under SHIELD jurisdiction sounds like asking for trouble to me." Because yes, Jeriah was in the private military sector - and the public one before that - and they have a particular way of getting things done.
With frag grenades. And in his case electroplasma shotguns.
Glancing at Clint the mercenary smiles a small smile. "The biggest thing I think is going to be the collateral damage. But with that arrow of yours and an intel background, I'm gonna guess you're not super big on collateral damage yourself, mmm?"
"What do I always need?" Clint says as he flares a hand to the side with a wry smile upon his lips toward Jemma. "Just my charming self." So really he'll probably need money. Lots of money.
Then toward Jeriah he points at the man, "Hey, you'd be surprised." Since he's got a few arrows that go boom nicely. He pushes off of the table and then says, "I'm gonna get cleaned up, grab something to eat, then head on back out. I'll see who is still returning my calls and then hopefully will have something to show you guys in the next few days."
That said he nods toward the soldier, "London, good ta meet you, remmeber. Potsie. Best name." He puts a hand on the door and shoulders it open lazily.
And Jemma might be getting some 'please explains' from the Director. Something she's become very … well not used to … dealing with. "Don't be a stranger. My lab door is always open to you. Unless it's not - and then you probably don't want to be in there anyway."
Jemma just stares at London and that comment. Oh, he'll find out. And she's putting the two archers and him together. What could possibly go wrong - except for everything.
"If we get more from the data, I'll let you know." Jemma watches as Clint departs.
"Now about my drive, Mister London?" Her voice follows the archer out. "Have you cracked it yet, or is it beyond your prodigious ability as well?"
"Oh keep your labcoat on, squint…" Jeriah sighs as he waves to Clint. "Good to meet you, Agent Barton. Talk to you soon. Don't get shot in the meantime mmm?"
Then he's turning back to the workstation to tap at it a bit more.
He's supposed to be fixing a bot damn it.
"Well that's a problem, Mister London." Jemma mutters once Clint has left and they're alone. "I'm not wearing my labcoat, or did you just not notice?" It's tart. London tends to rub her the wrong way. Which many would say was an achievement.
Maybe not one they would be proud of.
"What was wrong with your Bot? It looked like an actuator had failed. I'm still amazed that you know how to do this. Is it something you learned once you got them, or have you always been that way inclined?"
She's not going anywhere till she gets her drive, it seems.
"Well go put one on. It's cold in here. You'll catch your death." London is certainly sardonic. He's got a keen sense of gallows humor she'll no doubt have picked and he's not afraid to let people know what he thinks. Usually by needling them.
"The blast wave bent two of the rods in and cracked the housing. Probably because it was amplified by the narrow stairwell. The actuator wasn't salvageable so I decided to just make a new one."
He looks at the computer for a couple more minutes before pushing back from the work station and going back to the welding booth he'd set up.
"I spent six years working on a classified weapons projects. Mostly as the grunt testing them but a lot of these things we had to learn how to service. I was actually interested so I learned a lot. Became the SME out in the field, able to keep things running. When I got out, I kept working with advanced weapons projects. So a bit of this a bit of that. Robotics, cybernetics, mostly things for augmenting human beings. I'm not, like, a doctor or anything but I'm pretty good at what I do."
Jemma just gives London another flat look. "I have a sweater, thank you very much." She answers in a very prim and proper way. His needling brings that out in her and she's not sure she really likes it.
"None of that's in your jacket." She finally says as he explains. "It says ex-military and then PMC's. How long were you in for?" That he's not 'qualified' gets a slight wrinkle of her nose. Not much but she's considering that.
"How much do you know about augmenting humans and about your own implants?" The fact that they're Reverbium is a concern. Mainly because Jemma thinks the metal is unstable and there's nothing really known about it.
"Can I help you there? I'm not overly skilled, but I've helped a number of time when we've done projects." She's … asking to help with the manual labour side of things. Interesting.
"That's because they were classified." Jeriah says glancing up from what he's doing. He places a hood on his head and starts to weld. It's… really bright. Arc welding.
"Yeah if you want to get that rod from the lathe, I'll need it in a moment." His voice is slightly muffled. "Careful. It's gonna be hot."
"I was in for eight years. Four years of private work after. I've been doing this a long time, Doc. I know that every military on the planet is exploring multiple ways of augmenting its soldiers, ours included. And the first company that comes up with a cost effective, reliable way to do it is going to have all the money in the world. And the first army with large numbers of super soldiers is going to be the dominant force of our generation. So I know a bit. There's a lot on the line when we're testing these kinds of things."
When the welding starts, Jemma turns her back. She knows better than to look at the arc when it happens. "It still didn't expound on your skill set, Mister London. Classified projects or not, you present as a combatant not an all rounded geek." She murmurs, finding a glove for one good hand as she heads to lathe and starts to loosen the clamp to remove the rod.
The clamp is stiff and the biochem glares at it for a moment before using her cybernetic one to loosen it. So much better.
The rod is warm but that's not really an issue between the glove the metal of her replaced hand.
"So you joined up out of school then…" She does a quick calculation. "Didn't fancy going the academic route? You clearly have the aptitude." Is she judging that? It's hard to tell but she doesn't seem to be. Many would though, many probably have.
"I know we're experimenting, Mister London. It doesn't make it right though. You say there's a lot of the line but in all of this, we loose sight of the human factor." She doesn't turn till she hears the arc welder shut down. "How much were you told about your own enhancements before they were done?"
"Well no but my implants were done by AIM and not the US military so bear that in mind." The weld looks good. Jeriah takes a chip hammer to knock the slag off and holds out a gloved hand for that rod.
"Right out of school yes. I might have been able to qualify for scholarships but otherwise that was the only way I was ever going to pay for the academic route. Stuff's expensive you know." And it is. And it's a bit of a lottery. Maybe he tried before joining up. He might be used to people looking… not down on his experience but wondering why he doesn't have degrees to go with it.
"Besides, what I sell is mostly being a soldier. It's what I'm best at. Most folks don't need a self educated augmentives engineer."
"True. And that kind of supports my case." Jemma turns and hands the rod over. It's still warm, but cooler than it was a moment or two ago. "The fact that the race is on means that the worst of people are getting involved. Do you think the military tells you what they're doing?"
She shakes her head. Is SHIELD doing similar? She only has to look at herself to answer that. At least she'd had some say in the matter.
"True. Still, you haven't gone the academic route, though. Did you find the hands on stuff just too interesting? Have you ever considered doing that?"
She watches as works, learning the process and seeing if she can work it out herself.
"Well you're good at making a mess, I suppose. You were very impressive in action today. I was mostly glad you were on our side, and not theirs."
"Is that why they sent you to me, though? Because you are an augmentives engineer?"
That might be read any number of ways.
"I don't think you can really lump DARPA in with AIM." The hacker snorts. "Yeah they both keep secrets but one is an international terrorist organization and the other is a Defense Research Agency with oversight by Congress."
"Academic route might be interesting yeah. Unfortunately I'd have to start from square one. It's not like anyone is just going to accept the kinds of experience I have. So that kind of weighs against it."
Jeriah tack welds the rod into place and then begins the process of getting it really well and securely fused. This takes really steady hands.
"I think they sent me to you because I am a soldier with a trio of large dogs with guns on their backs. From what I've seen you could use the solid front line and I'm very good at providing that. A one man fire team is what they call me."
With a lot more firepower than a regular fireteam thanks to the squad support weapons on those pooches.
"Though the fact that I can deal with things like cybernetics no doubt helps."
Jemma spares a quick glance for the drive and the screen before turning her attention back to the hacker soldier. He's good. She's watched others in the engineering team work and he's on par with them, if not better than some. "Maybe not, but the fact is they're all doing it and many on the project teams loose sight they're working with people." The motivations may differ but still…
Whilst she doesn't say it, Jeriah must also know, there are Defence projects that manage to fly under the radar of Congress oversight as well.
"Well, I could use a solid front line. I might be cleared for the field but that's hardly my strength, is it? Even 'enhanced' as I am." She's quiet for a moment. "It's strange you were sent after we met in that facility."
He hadn't recognised her name, so maybe it was just coincidence. "What if I could swing some courses at the Academy, for you. I'm not saying you need them, but there's an option there."
Jeriah flips his hood up and inspects his weld. Looks good. He needs to let it cool for a few though. Then he needs to make sure the actuator actually, you know, actuates.
Taking off both hood and gloves he turns around in his seat. "I might appreciate the offer but I think we're going to be plenty busy handling what we've got right now, aren't we? I mean the case that was made to me was that my tactical services were urgently needed."
Maybe SHIELD had flagged him as in area after Jemma reported meeting him. Or perhaps it IS just a coincidence.
Probably not.
"In any case, yeah I would say that you're not exactly tactical personnel." He'd said before the raid that he'd have preferred her to stay on the plane. And while that surely hadn't been meant as an insult the sentiment behind it - you are not field personnel - stood.
Had London requested the work? That's a question that passes Jemma's mind. Probably not.
"Right now we are, yes, but there's always down time and you seem like the sort who is fairly self motivated." She doesn't push it. He's right, she needed him on her team, as just evidenced with Barton.
She's a squint who has found herself in a leadership position. How, she's not sure.
"I might not be a tactical person, Mister London, but my expertise in the field is needed as well. It's not ideal, but there you have it." She won't comment on what he said. It had stung and raised all the concerns the TAC teams had about her, again.
"You didn't tell me how much know about your implants."
"I know what they do. I can go into the technicals of it if you're interested. The science behind it? That I'm a bit less sure of. I know roughly how they're hooked into my system. The cranial implants were the freakiest, to be honest. Letting someone drill into your skull to put a computer in there is a bit hair raising even if you think they'll patch you back up when you're finished."
London leans back a bit against the work table and eyes Simmons. "How much do you know about yours? Death-lok is, I have come to understand, HIGHLY experimental."
"The technicals would be nice, I'm always interested." Jemma answers "It's the science that I'm mostly interested in. They didn't tell you much, I take it. When did you know it was Reverbium they used?" His comment about the cranial implants gets a look, her one good eye showing an emotion that's a mix of amusement and … fear.
She knows. Not that she remembers much before going in.
It's funny. No one has really asked Jemma about her experience or how she feels about it. Kelly has come close, but she gets preoccupied trying keep the biochem balanced or … staying alive.
"A little bit. I consulted with Doctor Nicholls on a previous Death Lok, but mine are different as you've pointed out. They had to modify the serum that neutralised the cellular necrosis and use the implants to replace the parts of me that failed." She's worried, he can see that. "Highly experimental is one of saying it. No one knows what to expect. My emotional regulation is … problematic and there's nothing to tell us what to expect of the tech."
"Alright then…" Jeriah smirks. "The reverbium in my implants creates a sonic disruption field that acts like armor. Things are absorbed, destroyed or deflected by it. That's how I get away with being more or less bulletproof without carrying around much extra weight. The power source, that's a bit… of a mystery to me. I know it amplifies certain kinds of vibration. That's why it doesn't need a big thing implanted in me but…"
He shrugs slightly. "It's in my spine. That's the most I know about that. I might let you take a look at it sometime." Beat. "If you ask nice."
The hacker takes a breath. "Necrosis. So you were… dying? Or had ebola? When you got that? Have they ever… no, nevermind."
"The sonic disruption field will be formed by the Reverbium. I wonder how they stabilised it so well…." Jemma is partially talking to herself and partially to London. "Were there others in your program who received the same treatment?" It probably won't help to tell him that she thinks the metal will explode if handled incorrectly.
"Oh you'll let me see one day. You'll likely have to. But I'll be sure to ask nice, when I do. The power source amplifies some sorts of vibrations?" She wonders at that. In his spine … she's read some interesting papers about that sort of thing.
"Cellular necrosis. Yes. I was dying. From the time I took the full dosage of the weapon to the time they put me under was forty eight hours. If they hadn't … " Jemma doesn't like to think on it. "Have they ever … what?"
"It's the pattern of the nodes that generate it. Constructive and destructive interference to amplify the necessary parts and get rid of parts of that that would be inconvenient. It's rather delicate." The hacker says, listening as she talks about her own augmentations.
It's kind of a somber topic. "Have they ever tried using that tech on someone who has died?" Because he hasn't read the files. He doesn't know. "That sounds like a bad way to go. Cellular necrosis. There's a few tropical diseases that are like that. Ebola, among them."
Ebola. Wait. Did they base this weapon on something? Something like Viral Hemorrhagic Fever?
"It sounds delicate. Were there others who had similar treatments and have there been problems with the power source?" Yes, Jemma is going to want to look at it, to understand it. It's fascinating to the biochem, because of course it.
She snorts at the question he hadn't asked to begin with, good eye rising to his eyes before she looks away. "Several times. It's what it's intended for. Bringing Agents back from the dead." Sombre isn't the word for it. This is kind of morbid.
"That's why mine is highly experimental and modified. They didn't let me die before they did it, which is something I suppose but my mind …" She shakes her head. She's brillant and smart but emotionally?
"It wasn't pleasant, no. Knowing that my body was being eaten away and there was nothing we could do to stop it." There'll be a file of course. With images of the progression. Jemma actually hasn't looked at it and may never. "Something like that. Think Ebola or Hemorrhagic Fever that adapts to a genome thanks to the reverbium. It might attack me but not affect you."
"So you have a prototype of a prototype. I'm kind of amazed that it works then, no offence." It is keeping and has kept her alive, apparently. So it's working. But what might the system do over the long haul? Fact is, no one knows.
"There were several others with these modifications but most of them were employed by the company I was with when I realized what AIM was doing. And they were in on the deal."
Jeriah works his jaw. Those had been his friends and comrades. "We wound up fighting when I cut my way out." He'd taken control of every drone he could hack. That and surprise are what had let him win that fight. And it had been close.
"So… how do you stop something like that? That infection is difficult to cure even today in its late stages."
"I guess you could say that." Jemma is quiet. She really doesn't like talking about it. Bad enough to look in the mirror and be reminded regularly of how close she came and how unstable her mind really is.
"… I'm… sorry for that. That they knew. I was wondering if any of them had had problems or complications. Your tech isn't a lot better than mine, in respect of its lineage."
Maybe they should change the subject.
"You don't. They only managed to do it for me because they bought me to the brink and injected the serum. For the ones in my infirmary, we're working on it. Doctor McCoy suggested using blockers that work on the same pairs the reverbium seems to be bonding to. At the very least, we might be able to slow its progress and buy ourselves more research time."
"Assuming they haven't programmed into the virus an ability to mutate itself around obstructions." Jeriah doesn't know a whole lot about microbiology but what he knows about reverbium suggests that it can indeed be used in some way to make organics function like tech. Which is ever so slightly terrifying.
"I was sorry for it too." London pushes himself off the table and leans his elbows on his knee.
"If reverbium is the key to how this thing functions I wonder if attacking the reverbium isn't the key to stopping it. If you could a serum or antibody that binds to it and flushes it out of the body, that might prevent the bioweapon from effectively propagating within the host."
He IS a nerd. But like… a general purpose nerd. Not a specialized one like Jemma.
"That's our concern as well. The reverbium is mutagenic, of course and the way they're using it …" Jemma shakes her head. "We've identified the base pair that the reverbium binds to. Or at least, that's what we think. We're testing it and we can certainly test that."
Jemma thinks on that, whilst assessing Jeriah carefully. "I'll need some reverbium to test with and time but it's possible that just might work." Would it neutralise reverbium? That's another interesting question.
"Is that drive decoded yet?"
Jeriah leans over to look. "Yes. Looks like it is." He walks over to click on it and frowns.
"Hrm. This looks like a file full of engineering specs. There's designs in here for sonic weaponry, for wide deployment aural disruptors. Whoo… I'm not sure what that does. All of this looks pretty nasty. None of it looks biological but there's a lot here. Someone's going to have to sift through this."
And it isn't going to be him is what he doesn't say but absolutely means. Because it isn't. Going to be him, that is.
There's possibly also something on there for Jeriah's type of implants, weapons and drones. "I guess I draw that straw, then. To go through and catalogue it. I could really use a gopher right about now…" Jemma sighs. "… Mind you with my implants, I might be able to do that quicker. Can you upload that to me?" If not, she's got a usb stick that can do that.
"Can I offer any more assistance with your Dog there?" Sure, she's got things to do, but the time doing something else often sparks inspiration.
"Yes, but you need to not hit me when I do it." This time when Jeriah makes the connection at least it's a typical handshake and upload rather than a botnet of tens of thousands of devices kicking the door inside her head in. Small mercies.
"If you want to sure. I'll need a set of steady hands and I hear things about doctors having them. And if he starts asking you for scratches while I'm doing it… just… humor him, please."
"I didn't hit you the first time. Or the second." Small mercies indeed. Jemma isn't snarking at London for the moment. And he's not snarking at her. Wonders will never cease.
"I can do that while I sort through these files." There has to be an upside to the changes that made to her. "And I can scratch him. He's not fluffy but he sees personable enough. Potsie, is it?"
At least they can both productive.