Body of Water

June 09, 2014: A body from [Singular Sensation] finds its way to shore where it's found by the police.

Side street, NYC

One of the many side streets that dead end at the docks. Not very glamourous, this section of river.



  • NYPD Medical Examiner
  • NYPD Officers

Mood Music:

Rain. Rain in the forecast, and according to pretty much all the meteorologists, rain until next weekend. Yay. That just makes living and working in the City that much more pleasant. Not. Traffic still moves, pedestrians still walk, though they take up a little more room thanks to the umbrellas.

There, on one of the side streets that leads out to the water, black and whites are parked, red and blue lights flashing in the rain-darkened skies. The ME's van is parked as well, with men and women in uniform emblazoned with the Coroner's Office tag along the back of their protective vests.

"Make a hole, make a hole!" calls one man as the ME pulls his equipment out and heads in the direction of the waterfront. (Not really a harbor.. more like, a sudden stop.)

With gym bag in hand, Clint Barton is crossing the alley where the lights put on their display, and catching it, jogs the half-building length more to check out the sidestreet. It's nothing that he hasn't seen before, really. It isn't. Police pull people out of the drink all the time; some days, two. But, there's just something that makes the hair on the back of his head raise; it's sort of like hearing about a car accident and knowing that someone you know/love was actually involved? Just like that.

Instead of going straight, then, Barton turns onto the side-street, not yet faced with a cordoned area.

Out of the water, it's an Asian girl, now bloated and unrecognizable due to the time spent in the water. Parts are bitten off her, churned off of her, and in some places, bone and sinew show through. But, on some of the spots, there is a strange mottling.. a strange discolouration still discernable on the skin.


Another car pulls onto the street and comes to a halt just outside the cordoned off area. The driver's door opens and an umbrella pops open before Paul climbs out and flashes his badge to the uniform keeping people out. Instead of lifting the tape, the cop pushes it down so it can be stepped over. Smart guy, taking into account the umbrella. Nodding his thanks, Paul walks over to where the body is but makes sure to stay out of the way of the ME.


Reaching the cordoned area just steps after Paul, Barton has to put his bag down in order to dig through it to find his ID. This, of course, gains the attention of some of the uniformed officers, and two subtly thumb off the 'peacebond' strap from their sidearms- just in case. Crouching now, blue eyes lift to the officers and slows down the rooting before he finds that which he's looking for. Pulling his wallet out slowly, he lets part of it drop open, revealing an emblem, "Special Agent Barton, SHIELD. Jjust being curious."

(This comes in handy! Damn.)

The moment the identification happens, the hands begin to slide down, no longer intent upon perching upon the top of their grips. "Yessir. Just found her floating. Couldn't tell you anything more. No ID was found.."

Paul's presence also garners attention, the techs jogging only to come to lay their equipment down. One of the uniformed on scene that seems to have taken control until a superior officer arrives wanders close to the perimeter, but stays far enough away to not get the full effect of the stench that is now creeping out. "Asian.. I think," and he points to what's left of her scalp and jet black, straight hair. "No idea how long…"

The moment Barton hears 'Asian', he chimes in, "12 days."


As he hears the magic word 'SHIELD', Paul glances over. Seems he can't get away from them lately. But as he doesn't know this one, he looks back to the body and pulls out a picture with his free hand. Comparing it to the body, he shakes his head. "Not her." But when the agent speaks up, he looks back again. "You know her?"


Barton approaches but stays just outside 'the line', and sets his gym bag down again as he pockets his ID rather than setting it back in. He looks at Paul, the body, then back to the man asking before he shakes his head. "Just a guess. Had some issues with a container ship almost 2 weeks ago. A couple supers trying to find something. One of the containers that got torn open first was one with trafficking victims." He gestures towards the body now; the girl who thought she'd have a better life. She could have probably had a better death if she just stayed put back 'home'. Maybe. "It got a little rough, and I was more than a little busy trying to contain."

Shaking his head now, Barton exhales in a sigh before extending his hand. "Barton." Figured he should meet the man with whom he's sharing a bit of info with. "Might as well know what's in your city. As if you don't have enough to worry about. We've been keeping an eye on cargo manifests ever since, trying to track the ship back and not getting anywhere useful."


Paul puts the picture back into his pocket then steps over to take the man's hand. "Manning. And we already know. Just not about this latest shipment." But guaranteed, it's going on somewhere with others already brought in. "Well, shame she ended up this way but it beats what awaited her if you hadn't intervened. How many did you rescue?"


Barton stands shoulder to shoulder now with Manning as the ME 'does his thing' and loads the girl onto a gurney, covering her with a special ME white sheet. Crossing his arms across his chest, he nods as he watches. "Yeah. Seems like it just doesn't end, doesn't it?" Still, in a strange way, it means job security. "Rescue?" How many managed to beat feet while he was trying not to get sucked into the tears of the fabric of reality or down suddenly generated black holes? "Um.. I think 25?"

Now Barton turns slightly, and his head cants, "Can you get me the info on those other shipments? Flag, manifest cargo master.. you know. The usual suspects? The ship that the girl came off of was the one that got … hit badly in storm surge." That is the SHIELD story and he's sticking to it.


Paul shakes his head. "Not my department. Things like that, they don't cross my desk and I don't hear about them." Except for talk, of course, and usually only if it's something out of the ordinary." But… "Storm surge? Where was the ship?"


"Probably will have to requisition them, then." Which will probably cause a few ripples, but what the hell? Barton isn't doing anything on his Friday and Saturday nights -anyway-. "Closer to an answer than I was five minutes ago."

The gym bag is nudged with his foot at the question, and after a moment, Barton looks straight at Manning and smiles tightly. "It didn't cross your desk?" It sure as hell crossed his. Now, he lowers his voice and his tones sound confidential if not tinged with unspoken suggestion, "It'd help a great deal if those files -did- cross your desk at some time."


"The legal system runs on paperwork." Paul agrees and sounds more than a bit disgusted by it. Always more reports to file instead of actually stopping crime. "Why should it? Was there something strange about it? And a crime needing investigating? Harbor patrol or the Coast Guard usually gets that kind of thing." He furrows his brow at the obliqueness. "Why? Is this something related to Partisan?"


"Sometimes, the fact that other people write reports helps a lot. What they see and think isn't too important can sometimes be the most important. You know that, Manning." Barton pauses and adds a quirked smile, "Reading on a weekday night with a box of Chinese and a beer? Nothing good is on TV." He's done his share of paperwork and no doubt will continue to do so.

Naming Partisan brings a pause and he raises his brows, a frowned nod coming from the man in gesture. Still, "Nope. Though she's someone that's on my 'list'." He won't say what 'list' that is, but it doesn't sound too terribly positive. "Different kind of baddie." He -did- mention supers earlier, after all.

"Just.. I'll be able to be able to tell you more if I get those reports across our desks. I want to know if the MSC Leigh had any connections with those other ships. Just.. as a link." Barton pauses, and he turns his attention to the girl that now is getting set into the ME's truck, ready to be sent back to the office. Around them, the police are looking for 'clues', though they'll be emptying out of the area soon enough. But, time perhaps to throw a bone. Help isn't all that bad. "The girls weren't the only cargo that was questionable on board. If there is any connection between the Leigh and the others?" They'll have their first clue. Or rather, he will. "It would be good to know."


Just what Paul needs, more work. And on cases that aren't even his. And maybe not even in his jurisdiction. "I'll see what I can do." He can either cash in some favors or owe one, depending on who's handling the case. "Once I do, you can supply the beer and Chinese and we'll go over them."


Clint smiles now and reaches to grab his gym bag with his left hand before straightening and offering his right again. "Sounds like a plan."

Looking up, the SHIELD agent exhales in an exasperated sigh and returns his attention to the detective. "Better go. Date with the range." Once his hand is retrieved, Barton takes a step backwards, ready to depart. "Thanks for your help." Now, he's got the chance to turn fully, and he begins to make his way back up the side street to the main thoroughfare. Archery practice waits for no man.


Paul clasps the hand then watches the SHIELD agent leave. Shaking his head, he returns to the car and thinks about who he needs to talk to to get that report. He should never have said yes to Cap. No good deed goes unpunished, as they say.

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