2019-08-19 - Incident at Camp Lehigh


Captain Rogers and his fearless unit brave the abandoned grounds of Camp Lehigh to find out what nefarious deeds trespassers have been attempting. What they find is beyond the pale and worthy of concern for all.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Tue Aug 20 02:15:10 2019
Location: Camp Lehigh

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Theme Song



A series of unexplained events near old stomping grounds for not one, but two members of the current group descending in the Quinjet require more than just a pair of super-soldiers. The blond, dressed not in his spangled suit but rather a subdued number more familiar to SWAT and JSOC units, still wears his shield on his back despite this. He turns away from quietly discussing with the pilot of the jet, one Senior Agent Melinda May, to address the rest of the group.

"I took the time to visit this site on my own, before you all were contacted," Captain Rogers begins, face solemn. "Someone attempted to breach security in a sector of the Camp known to very few people, even in the United States Army." He means Camp Lehigh, which they're approaching quickly. "They also appeared to be after some extremely restricted files. We can thank the Army for keeping things sealed away." A glance at Bucky then roves over the rest again. "However, whatever scared 'em off left 'em knowing where to look next time. We're here to do reconn and if we engage, nonlethal — enemies are to be incapacitated for further interrogation. May will be waiting for our signal for exfil. Any questions?" With hands rested at his belt, Steve asks this. Outside of the Quinjet, restless thunder rumbles at a distance. Rain hasn't started falling yet, but it's a distinct possibility.


Thea stands in her bland, deep navy outfit, with her chosen accessoties of weapons and a pack of first aid 'helpers'. She doesn't need them, exactly, but it's better to keep more of her energy in the tank. She will finish tying off the braid of strawberry blond, stuffing it to fall between her back and the pack.

She will nod at Steve, even as her hands move to check her little stashes of things like gloves, her favorite multitool, and the like. "Ready."


Much to the terrible disappointment of anyone hoping for pink leggings and a red lame bathing suit, Wanda is in her street wear. It's a rare time in the world when she adopts anything but street clothes, given the uniform of her making tends to consist of dark clothes, darker attitude, and darkest eyes burning bright. Tiger, tiger, she is not, but currently finishing a strange amber-coloured stick snapped open to permit her to disgorge its contents. At a time when others check their guns or heft their hammers, crinkle chip bags with the stealth of a displacer beast, she polishes off her third honey stick.

Truly, those things are pure magic, if difficult to source outside Coney Island. Another four secreted into the Quinjet's emergency rations read 'Orange blossom - native to Connecticut!' and, in much unhappier printing, "Wanda's - no eating." Steve's order for non-lethal goes without a great deal of comment from her, her chin dipping four degrees to indicate readiness. The buzz of the gilded concoction has yet to hit her bloodstream in earnest, the fruit smoothie she polished off already doing that. "Any idea of numbers? People or animals, something else?" Questions that deserve to be asked.


This was probably one of the only times that Stark was actually in the quinjet even though he was already in the Iron Man armor. He looks at Steve as the face mask of the helmet is open to reveal his face. "Yeah, will there be schwarma service on the way? I'm starving."

Yes, Tony has the quips, but he's also taking this seriously. "Nonlethal, got it." Tony then seems to inhale sharply and seems to be tapping his fingertips together rhythmically. Its almost comical.


Buck is also in plain SHIELD field gear, not the full leather HYDRA tactical gimp outfit. He does, however, have the red-lensed goggles, albeit propped up on his forehead at the moment. He shoots Steve a wry look - aw, look, honey, it's our first mission together as newlyweds. We should be on a beach in Hawaii, but nope, we're here. "Nonlethal it is," he echoes, with a put-upon sigh. IT's so hard to remember not to kill people.


Clad in all black, the golden regal symbols left away, the cape missing, the Black Panther is pretty much a sleek shadow in the vehicle, the suit appearing almost wet despite being all dry still. A moment the masked head turns, the dedicated expert on Vibranium on the team scanning the people around with her eyes as she checks the belt around her waist carefully, nodding. "Two. Are any friends in the area we have to stay clear off and when do we drop the glace gloves?"


Steve glances over at Wanda. "While the last report of trespassing was written off as vagrants, the local police reported at least half a dozen sets of bootprints of varying sizes and shapes. Don't think we're dealing with anything normal here." He looks around the interior of the Quinjet again, at their group. "Some of the prints appears to be animalistic, though still bipedal. Army's been made aware of our presence here, so no, no friends. We're looking for minimal impact on-site, however," he replies to Shuri in particular, shadow as she is. "Nobody gets any kiddie gloves, but again — nonlethal," the Captain stresses. "This is reconn unless we find the trespassers. Then we engage."

Hearing a comment from up front from May, Steve nods and then touches his ear. "Comm check — and we'll talk food post-mission," he adds to Tony in particular. "If your comms are good, we're a go."

The Quinjet sets down behind a stand of trees, allowing the group to disembark. May's on the comms, awaiting signal patiently. Steve affixes his SWAT helmet and signals for the group to follow.

The grounds of the Camp appear to be deserted, and rightly so: this is private government property as is. As the team approaches the main gate, it'll be apparent someone's re-broken the lock Steve himself replaced. This is enough to make the Captain frown.

"Might have company," he says quietly through the comms. "Watch sixes." Skeletons of abandoned buildings cast angular shadows in the wane light of late evening. Wind rustles at loose tarpaulins and scraggly grass yellowed in the heat of late summer. Steve gestures for the group to approach one munitions bunker in particular.

No munitions are supposed to be stored this close to barracks. Army regulation. How odd…

"Anybody sense anything off?" he asks through the comms.


There's a blink as Thea drops all of her usual shields that let her function without seeing and sensing the biosigns around her like everyone is splattered with neon paint. She will keep moving, head on a slow swivel side to side.

She will slow, a hand signal to Cap. A single finger pointing to the munitions bunker. She will hold up her hands to gesture six, and then a shrug. "Seem mostly human? Hard to be absolutely sure on what it is from here with what I've got."


If Tony is serious, Wanda lacks the exact edge to know it. Sarcasm doesn't jump the language barrier very well, though she watches the billionaire the way someone eyes up a timebomb on a broken arrow mission. Shaking her head at him, she drops the emptied honey straw into her pocket for later disposal. She doesn't tend to fidget in expectation of waiting, and neither does she now, testing one of the buckles on her boots and looking like the odd person out without an actual snazzy get-up. As the jet lands and Camp Lehigh unfolds before them, she's up and out soon as anyone lets her. Life's a bit different on her side as she looks around, the subsumed rubicund sparks around her pupils the only hint something is utterly askew with her.

"Animals tested in a lab." She speaks up softly after mulling over Steve's warning. "Modified people, maybe? Not a natural bond." The dusky-haired witch's voice runs up against its usual limitations, accent slewing around English and slaloming past vowels. She looks utterly unimportant, pretty much forgettable, the least significant target about. A nod to Thea lends a warning, bringing her to slide in behind Shuri. When someone has the fancy armour, it's always wise to use them as the shield and triangulate accordingly.


Tony;'s face mask lifts up and closes, leaving Tony completely in the protection of his gold and red iron man suit. Soon as that door opens, Tony hovers out and lands on the ground. He runs a sensor check and he replies simply enough to Cap. "Got some targets nearby armed with some kind of electronic weapon or item. I doubt they're supposed to be here."

He looks around. "And since when the hell is there munitions next to the barracks? Isn't that like…against protocol and procedure?" He says with a shrug.

Though his eyes find Wanda as she speaks about modified animals or people. He's silent though for a minute, looking around.


It's nonlethal in that he's mostly packing ICER rounds, though he's got a machine pistol loaded with the real deal hanging at his nape. Buck motions at the tracks leading right for the munitions dump. "Yeah. Someone's been here recently. Buncha someones…." Thea speaks up, and he blinks. "Built in X-ray vision, huh?" he wonders, sotto voce, grinning pleasedly. Wanda's further commentary wipes away the grin, though. Yeah, about modifying people….Mr. Rogers has strong opinions on that. "Stark's right," he agrees. "It's in the wrong place."


A moment Shuri nods, then she follows Cap out into the camp, her ears perked as she darts through the shadows, almost like water. She might not know army regulations, but she knows the smell that decaing ammunition leaves behind after years frm the old arsenals of Wakanda, some of them containing no explosives since decades. But the smell was missing. "Facade." was the only word she mouthed under the mask, an answer to Thea's pointer and both Tony's and Bucky's comment, the vibration turned into voice on the coms by the subvocal microphone on her neck.

Nonlethal for the Panther meant not fighting with claws, though said claws were still hidden in the habit's gloves. Claws of Vibranium with an Adamantium tip. Ready to be used if needed, waiting as Shuri followed the shadows. Tilting her head for a couple moments and then inhaling deeply, she nodded while slipping into a shadow close to the fake bunker's bulkhead. "Something's alive in there, came from the left. Smells like a zoo."


All warnings taken into account, Steve can be seen to nod where he lingers in the shadow of one of the bunk-buildings. "We'll take 'em off-guard — fast 'nd quick — gonna have to be fast if they're not human. Dealt with these things before beneath the Disaster Zone — not gonna know what you'll get for hybrids 'til you're on 'em."

Anyone privy to SHIELD intel will likely have either read or heard about the inhuman snake-bite the Captain received last he dealt with these scientific oddities.

"Figure if someone covers my six, I can run in 'nd — "

Not going to matter, Rogers, not anymore.

A wavering yowl, half-human, half-canine, suddenly erupts from inside the fake munitions bunker. The cracked metal doors slam open as a half-dozen mutated bodies pour out on full aggression towards the no-longer-clandestine unit.

Feathers — fangs — fur — oh god, is that an AR-15?!


She's still looking in the direction of the munitions building, before she looks at Bucky. "Not exactly. Biologicals only." Thea shrugs, she's completely content with her powers, and their limitations. She hadn't need to read about Steve's bite, she'd been there to try and drain it of the toxin and boost his immune system against it.

She's ready, she's seen the animalistic ones before, and though she doesn't need to use her hands, they still clench and stretch as if to be ready. "Time's up, Cap!" She will dash to one side, to try and draw one out towards her, and make sure none of her compatriots get too close to be affected by her powers. When a canine type comes at her all teeth and claw, her powers will lash out even as she runs at it. She will try to choke the air away from its lungs to make it pass out from lack of air, as she will drop to slide with a booted foot aimed at a leg to try and take it down.


The witch puts a foot down carefully, walking lightly around the express dangers of shrapnel. Not everyone gets to be a multimillion-dollar mecha or a super-soldier, thus she flicks her fingertips over her polished bordeaux leather coat. A strange, subtle current runs over her, invisible save to those already engaged with the mystic senses. It no sooner settles over her like a second skin than anguished howls and yips resonate in the night, an unwelcome cacophony to add to the blistering tension already permeating the air. Time to run, bounding out of the way.

Hers is furry, a thing far too mobile to be condemned to rabbiting it through the camp to get out. No, it bounds with all the rage of a coked-up male red kangaroo, except those feet come with a slashing blade. Her eyes narrow as if to ask the world, "Really?" Because destiny has a sense of humour and it's black, dealing with the antics of her super-speedy twin might have prepared her for this. Or sitting wedged next to Clint demolishing mid-aughts games. She just has no time for this, backpedalling at a run to get the Quinjet or an overhanging building in the way for the backflipping bunny. It slashes a blade through the air, striking the brick wall behind her and throwing sparks that barely deflect from her reinforced jacket. She zags away, making herself such a nice open target. See, just the perfect opportunity for the next leap to tackle her to the ground. A precarious mistake on her part, surely. Except her wrist snaps out and a crackling red aperture sheds firefly sparks into the air. See, the archer making her play Portal 2 is damn unfair, especially when that wavering arc opens up in front of the deranged rabbit's leap…


For some reason, the Iron Man suit fritzes out on Tony for a second. "Whoa! JARVIS, buddy, what just happened." Jarvis quickly responds with his british-sounding suave. "I'm not entirely sure sir. It appears it screech has a sonic effect that jammed systems momentarily."

"Great, just what the doctor ordered. He'd be great in Black Sabb-Oh shit!" Tony dodges the chair thrown his way when his enemy arrives proper, a half-human half-eagle failed hybrid. "Don't worry cap, you'll get to finish your words later, promise." Tony teases as he flies towards the creature, using his metal fist to smack it right down, another to knock it unconscious.

"Got mine, anybody need a hand?" He looks around for a minute. "Looks like you were right, Panther, what kind of genetic modification was used here? If put in a lab…" Tony knows he'll probably not be able to reverse this process but…worth a shot right?


"Jesus, i's the Island of Doctor Moreau," Buck says, in that tone of flat, amazed displeasure. "I've got your six, Steve," Just as he always did…and indeed, still does. Nearly back to back with the Captain. Then there's a doggo creature with a knife, and by his look, he doesn't know at all what to feel: humor, pity, anger. "Hey, buddy," he says to it, as he weaves neatly past a slash, catches the return on the metal wrist with a shower of sparks. "We're not here to hurt ya. Stand down." The dog doesn't listen, and Buck's unloading a couple of ICER rounds into it, center mass.


Having taken a forward position, the black Panther was faced by the leading canine with his gun, who seemed to have chosen to stay close. Nonlethal, really? They pack firepower! And that stuff is noisy, if he can use it. But as the beast turns to face her, Shuri already is there, the fingers bending in just the right way to release the claws of her left hand, a shiny arc sleashing through the night as she slaps the rifle downwards with the left while her right fist made contact with the jaw of the dogman. Huge floppy ears got carried up as the left fingers find the way under the gun's body and bend, the claws cutting cleanly through the receiver, the side of the magazine, a good portion of the barrel nut and barrel as well as severing the gas tube as she pulled back the hand tobring it in for a knuckle punch into the dog's chest. The damaged rifle wouldn't not fire, but shooting it now would surely break of the barrel and it wouldn't recycle at all.

Possibly surprised by having had no chance to aim, the Dachshund-man is thrown back a couple feet. His ammunition spills from the wrecked magazine, a rain of brass that still has its projectiles in it. A split moment it seems to try to bring the gun up to use that one shot still in the barrel, but then drops the heavily damaged gun as the Panther is right at its heels. The two clash and fists clench around wrists, both fighters having only sheer strength and skill in that situation… for a short moment, evenly matched… or are they?


Thea's particular creature looks like something out of a B-rated horror film, but it's worse due to its existence barreling at her. Its eyes go wide and it wheezes for sudden lost oxygen no longer present through an invisible hug, like squeezing air from a balloon. It reels enough to make it an easy trip and down it goes with a HURF?! of shock. That long canine nose smarts as it face-plants, leaving a small furrowing in its wake.

Bringing the blade down to bear upon the swiftly-retreating Witch is not to the hare-mutate's benefit. Its bulbous eyes go wide and lips peel back from disorganized yellow teeth (yes, those are some buck-teeth to boot) as it falls helplessly towards the aperture. Carmine light flickers off the knife's pitted surface as it flails along with limbs.

Who throws a chair in the middle of a fight like this?! Intentioned to smash into Iron Man, it misses and the bird-mutate isn't long for consciousness. It gets out a final SRAWK of dismay before tumbling upon itself to land flat on its back, one wing bent across its body.

Back to back with the Captain, the Soldier is responsible for a set of dull black nails slammed into Steve and potentially removing his kidney. The creature lets out a strangled cry of shock upon taking some ICER shots to the chest and crumples, spasming to the ground.

Shuri's fight is swift and blurred now with the main weapon of the group dismantled. A moment's pause has the canine-mutate straining with all of his might against the young woman in the specialized suit.

Steve himself also gets a canine, behemoth and splotch-marked, as if someone had crossed a brindle molossus-breed with a body builder. It slams a punch into the spangled center of the shield and lets out a loud YELP of shock as this metal doesn't bend an inch. Its wrist certainly does; bones didn't survive that impact.

The behemoth creature steps back and gives a slavering snarl before then emptying its lungs in a LOUD hoooowwwwlllll that might set the Baskervilles to turning in their beds.

All of the creatures? They attempt to flee now, in any manner possible!


Now that it's down, she will reach into one of her little pockets, flicking out an extendable ASP, to thwack her werewolf wanna be over the head to try and knock him out to retain him for information later. Who knows if it will work, but Thea will start to let Oxygen back into its lungs. Don't want to kill, after all.


The curtain of light flashes apart to reveal two points of space superimposed over one another. In the first, the witch performs an acrobatic backbend worthy of video games, arching to escape the invisible swung axe or the flashing trench knife. The ground of Camp Lehigh is littered in weeds and detritus of another life. In the second, the sunlight streams through an oblique angle, painting an alternating zebra walk in chiaroscuro tones, concrete a poured wash ahead of her.

She shunts the exchange between watercolour transparencies of existence, plundering their stability once the unfortunate soldier goes ass over tea kettle into an unknown destination. Mostly unknown. The startled shouts arrayed with a klaxon squall might stand out for the timbre and temper to at least two of the resident SHIELD agents: in the split second present, the startled Prussian-slanted German bursts out, "Gruber, what the actual fu-"

The portal snaps shut, fire whirligigging around Wanda as she stands. One hare-raising experience is done. Next up, making sure Shuri and Dachshund-Man aren't having too much trouble.


Tony drags back his downed eagle-hybrid, dropping it at Cap's feet. "Got one of 'em to bring back with us. I gave him a sedative too to hopefully keep him out, but lets just hope these scientists didn't give these guys a healing thing or something."

He watches as the Hound of Baskerville continues to flee from the scene. "Ouch, thats not gonna heal up anytime soon." He looks over at Bucky. "Hey, Buckmeister, you good to go?" Then to Shuri, he's about to speak but then she turns out to win in her conflict. Nevermind! He looks over at Wanda. "…you know, one of these days your gonna tell me how that works, and I won't take 'magic' as an answer."


"Science," quips the witch to Tony in turn.


"But what if magic is the answer?" Buck asks, disingenuously. He looks down at the twitching canine hybrid and says, deadpan, "Bad dog! Bad!"


In a test of stength, the sheer bulk of a fighter can be decieving. Shuri might be slender for a fighter, but she was no less a supersoldier than the Captain. In the case of the Black Panther, the suit wasn't the empowering, it was the sign of being empowered. As the hunting dog tries to disengage, to retreat from the brawl, he brings back momentum into the standstil that had been between them a moment before, and Shuri knows well how to use that momentum. Still holding onto the one hand of the beast, she spins around with some more of the hidden might, sending him flying right into Bucky's dog's back.


Steve watches the behemoth canine-mutate clamber up the munitions building and disappear before he can take but two steps towards it. He grimaces and wheels, marking Bucky's own downed mutate before he sweeps the area visually.

"That's fine, Tony, we'll hope it keeps 'em under until we can get 'em quarantined — "

Shuri's own combatant flies by both super-soldiers and goes tumbling away down the barren drive of the Army base. With a yelp, it takes off into the distance on all fours, lumbering as fast as three hale and one injured leg can handle. It leaves the unit with three captured mutates, precisely half of the original attackers.

Steve side-eyes Bucky, smirking at his deadpan, and then puts two fingers to his mouth to whistle a signal for the others to gather in. "May, we've got company, can you swing the jet around near the front gates? They might not play nicely," he says into the comms for the woman fearlessly guarding the Quinjet beyond the trees.

"Tony, dose up the other two with the tranq, it seems to be holding," the Captain asks of the Iron Man, meaning both Bucky's downed dog and Thea's unconscious bundling of what could have been husky at one point.

"Shuri, Buck, quick perimeter check, make sure there's nobody else lurking. Thea, Wanda, keep half an eye on these guys. I don't want anybody else squirreling off. I'm going to make sure everything's still secure in the bunker." With that, Steve quickly jogs into the shadowy interior of the squat building.


Thea will glance around at everyone, making sure no one actually needs any sort of her special attention to patch up with. She will watch Tony. "Let me watch." She wants to see the way this particular tranq affects the bodies of their captures. Never stop learning new things, kids!


Having been monitoring the comm chatter while guarding the quinjet, May acknowledges Rogers' call immediately. "On my way." She slaps the button to close the plane's loading ramp and just as she turns to head toward the pilot's seat a canine-like creature leaps onto the ramp and snarls at her. She stops and looks at mutate, then pulls a pair of taser-ended batons. The creature lunges toward her and snaps meanacingly, and with only a narrowing of her eyes charges the quadruped.

The comms transmit a couple of meaty thwacks, the electrical snap of a taser, and a canine yelp followed by claws scrabbling against metal before May's voice returns.

"ETA, one minute."


Whence goeth the super-soldiers, Wanda goes temporarily airborne by a distance of a good six feet. Unspooling filaments buoy her up by her feet, punting her higher into the air long enough to gain a particular vantage on those questionably unwelcome mutates of genetic infusion. In case anyone tries to leap in from over a rooftop, she both makes an excellent target compared to the man in bright red and gold armour with appropriate thrusters and glowing accoutrements! And she might just spot them.

In the meantime, Her fingers frame strange shapes in the air, nothing so effectively quick as medical options but more than certain to pry into the brain to dig deep and keep them under. A faint ruby wisp dances over the affected creatures, a faint candela. She doesn't look at all smug, only displeased. "This is wrong." The witch's eyes narrow slightly, skimming through the gloom of a place out of date since the stone age of a long winter war.


"Sure thing." Chimes Tony at Cap, in which he turns and raises his wrist, firing two-dart like projectiles at both of the downed animals. "I'll see what makes 'em tick." Then Wanda…has a sense of humor? "You know how to make jokes? Wow." Tony seems to grin her way behind his mask, though its impossible to see because…helmet.

Then he watches Shuri's combatant fly between both the super-soldeirs and Tony makes a quip. "Its good!" he even lifts his arms in that classic field goal success pose.

Then to Wanda, he nods. "I know. We'll do our best."


Perimeter check, sure. Buck gives it at least half an effort. But honestly, he's mostly stuck to Steve's six. That's just the default setting when his switch isn't flipped to Evil. All these years, no more self-preservation than he's ever had…..but that's what James is for, now.


Giving Steve a short nod of acknowledgement, the Black Panther catapults herself up on top of the fake bunker with a couple fast pulls with her arms, her eyes running over the perimeter as asked. a silent black shadow on the silhuette of the bunker, ears perk, eyes well adapted to the darkness… "Our escapees seem to want home. Otherwise nothing," the processed voice comes from her, the dubvocal microphone turning her silent mouthing into audible tunes.


"Roger that, May," replies the Captain into the comms at the Quinjet pilot's report. Tension momentarily gathered by the sounds of combat on her end releases from him and he shakes his head as he walks over to the bookshelves. Looking it up and now, he leans in to see if there are any signs of attempting to force open the secret entrance.

None, thank god. Blowing a hard sigh that sets up some dust, he turns and gives Bucky a solemn look. "Not good, Buck, gonna have to let SHIELD know they're after the super-soldier serum," he says quietly as he then jogs back out to the group…though not after stooping to pick up a dropped item left behind by the mutates. It appears to be some form of handheld gadget, something rigged like the love-child of a geiger counter and an x-ray machine.

"We'll take this back to SHIELD R&D, see what they can make of it." He sticks it in his belt for now and looks around the group. Shuri's report makes him glance up at her and nod.

"Least we know they're not local to the area. We'll know more after interrogating these guys. May's at the gates, let's get our presents home." Steve's not afraid to stoop and carefully pick up the eagle-mutate, folding wings about the delicate frame as a preventative swaddling. "Barnes, Stark, grab one. Everybody, back to the jet."

"May, we're on approach," he reports again to the fearless pilot.


Thea has no problem letting the super soldier boys and the suit enhanced do the heavy lifting. She's a biokinetic, not a body builder. She will just make sure to keep her eyes and powers moving to make sure no one is waiting to try and sneak up behind them on their way into the jet. Once everyone is all in, she will check on the tranq'd mutates before she will find a spot to hunker down for the flight back.


That precise one minute later, the quinjet settles neatly near the assembled group and the rear loading ramp opens to admit the others entry. Staying in the pilot's seat in case they need to leave in a hurry, May reaches to toggle various switches and controls.

"Spare cargo webbing along the starboard fuselage, Captain," she notes, as this bird wasn't really designed to transport multiple prisoners and she is NOT going to tolerate any of their 'guests' becoming rowdy on the flight back.

What? It's worked to keep Barton from becoming rowdy in the past.


Indeed, who can believe /Wanda/ knows how to make a joke? Maybe that's an imposter or one Pietro Maximoff in disguise, though ramming him into his sister's corset is a talent and then some. She braids her hair in her fingers, though this sudden bout of grooming has nothing to do with preening at approval from one of the big bosses, so much as shifting spell energy around. One the dark tresses form a tail tucked under her collar, she breaks out another of those honey sticks, this one fetching labeled: black currant blossom. A noisy crack might sound like a snapped twig or a frail bone surrendering under her hands, but the straw provides her with essential energy right now.

Floating until she can be sure of a full three-sixty view, she sinks back down to the ground and listens to the conversation stitched over the comms. Usually they survive her… usually. Today is no different, for the lack of a squeal or the sudden ear-splitting noise sometimes accompanying her movements is gone, and thus everyone has happy ears. "I have questions for these people." Ominous statement indeed as she heads into the hold of the Quinjet.


"Imposter." Tony whispers to Steve teasingly about Wanda. "Wanda doesn't make jokes. She's too…." he makes weird gestures with his hands to comically mimic her spellcasting gestures. "to make jokes."

Then he's looking on over at Thea as she investigates the tranqued mutates. Then there's agent may. "Hey May. Do me a favor next time and jam 'Shoot to Thrill' on the speakers when you come down, it'd do wonders for my mood today." Tony qips at her as he moves towards the quinjet with his bagged mutate in hand.

"We'll get them home in their original condition if we can." But then Steve says something about taking these guys to SHIELD. Tony grumbles something about being smarter than all of those guys combined.


"No," May replies to Tony flatly at his request for music.


The last on the scene is the Black Panther, letting herself fall gracefully off the bunker before following the rest of the group. She doesn't strap in, she hadn't strapped in on the flight in either. "You wanted to let those to get away, did you?" she finally asks Steve in the Quinjet, eying those they hauled off. "Want them to tell the tale of the defended Bunker, do you?"


Spare cargo does indeed go within the spare webbing, sure to be further untangled if awakening before arrival at SHIELD headquarters. The jet's up and into the air with nary a drifting jolt which shows skill, given the weather just began to blow in out of the east as promised by the earlier rumbles of thunder. Steve glances over at Shuri and shrugs, almost to himself.

"They'll tell whomever calls themselves the boss about us 'nd whomever that is'll think twice. Benefit of propaganda. It won't be long before we find 'em, whoever it is." His eyes travel to the unconscious animal-mutates. "They'll be cared for while we get our answers. I'll keep the Avengers in the loop about what new things we learn. For now, time to get back to base."

Having averted crisis, the more-than-competent crew returns to the Triskelion with their bundle of genetic anomalies. Well, with more genetic anomalies than normal.

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