Summary:
July 03 2014: Partisan and May are actually getting along. Who knew all it took was an old russian airplane
Hangar 13
Partisan's business and workshop all rolled into one, with some weaponry and aircraft thrown in to boot.
Characters
NPCs
- None
Mood Music:
[* None]
Hangar 13, is exactly like every other hangar here and save for the logo painted on the hangar doors it's all but impossible to tell it apart from all the others. Inside though, is where it becomes slightly less than average. Sure there’s a Pilatus PC-12 and a trio of BO-105s in, wait wait, wait that's a PC-12M Spectre isn't it? Anyway it's all painted a boring clean white. Back behind those mostly vanilla aircraft, is where the fun stuff is. There’s a pair of AH-6s with their rotors folded back, crates full of neatly packed gunpods, hardpoints, drop tanks, rocket pods, heavy machineguns, mortars, older legacy SAMs, ATGMs, you name it. All of its slowly going into a tractor trailer, and judging by the discarded shrink wrap everywhere this is the second or third trip like this today alone.
Part's doing the hard stuff, because well men obviously can't be relied upon to actually get anything done without wandering around. Cigarette smoldering as she hoists a pair of M2s over one shoulder, before grabbing a MK.19 under arm with a grunt of effort and starting off towards those crates. Cigarette dangling from her lips as she loads legacy systems, with a lit cigarette. There’s music, of course though today it's more Iron Maiden than RATM.
*
Jericho is not, for the record, doing nothing. He is actively calibrating a number of systems on the trailer itself that'll prevent anyone from getting an untoward look inside. People like snooping. Especially cops. Especially around New York, and this is not stuff that they really want to be advertising that they have.
"Ow!" He grunts as he singes himself with a soldering iron.
*
May had said she'd help with transportation when Trent asked, but she had not specified how. And, she's late. Though in hindsight, she never actually said what time she'd stop by. It probably nerve-wracking enough for the former military lab rat to ask in the first place much less press for details.
The sounds of planes passing by the hangar are likely all too familiar, though this most recent set of jet engines is … not moving away again.
*
Partisan grunts, as she deposits the two M2s with a clatter before jerking up the MK.19 and dumping it (gently) into the crate. "Need me to kiss and make it better princess?" Grinning as she heads back into the racks with another puff.
"Also, do note I threw your silly MK.19 in there in place of the vastly superior AGS-30, if only because you asked so very nicely." Raising a brow as she listens with, well supernatural acuity. Scooping up a pair of Carl Gustavs with another little grunt, and heading right back the way she came. "Just offhand, do you remember which crate I put those Strelas into?"
*
Jericho waves his hand back and forth. "The red and yellow striped one to the left of the one with the Chinese stuff you recommended."
See, he does listen to her. No, he's not about to ask her to kiss it and make it better. Seems imprudent.
The sound of jet engines is enough to bring him out from under the trailer and look up.
"What on earth is…" He says as he scan's the sky for the source of the noise.
*
A matte-black C-17 with far more landing gear or engines that would be considered reasonable has just 'taxied' right up to aforementioned hangar, the engines already spinning down as the giant cargo plane turns its tail toward where Trent and Partisan are currently gaping. The moment the jet settles in place, the tail ramp begins to lower, and as soon as there's enough room to see past the ramp, May is standing there with her arms crossed and aviator sunglasses obscuring her eyes.
*
Partisan raises a brow, before stowing those Carl.Gs. "It would appear, as though we have a visitor Jerry."
Lifting her chin to shout towards May. "I guess Fury went for it, and brought us our birds?" Rolling her shoulders, and adjusting the fitment of her "rock or something" T-shirt. The rock, (or something) is but of course…a rock lobster.
*
Jericho actually walks over to the cross-armed agent with a chuckle and a grin, looking the plane over. "Goodness. Hello Agent May. You've got a pretty flashy ride here." He nods to her. "Nice to see you again. Didn't think you'd be coming 'round this way after the last time." He turns, making an inviting motion for her to come on over to where they're finishing up loading things.
*
Melinda May scoffs at Partisan as she walks lightly down the ramp. Behind her the entire interior cargo space of the jet is visible. And visibly empty.
"Not my jurisdiction. Talk to Fury if you're getting impatient." When Trent approaches she nods. "You asked. I'm here." She follows him over to where they're loading the 18-wheeler trailer and comments aside to him, "You haven't seen flashy yet."
*
Partisan mmmms, and snuffs out her cigarette before lighting a fresh one. "I stressed the battle tempo, bugging him about would be like blood from a stone. We're almost finished here, so your timing is excellent really. This'll be the last load to shuttle over, and well I guess we'll be able to get the ugly fucker in there too."
Thumbing back over her shoulder towards a, well it's a something covered in multiple drop cloths. "I was really stressing over getting it airworthy again without cutting corners too."
*
Jericho chuckles.
"Yes, and I do appreciate that." He's quite sincere about that, and Partisan's quite right. This should fit everything they have.
"Flashier?" He'd kind of like to see but… that involves getting involved with SHIELD. Just, no. May he can trust. SHIELD? Less so.
"Right, well what's first the Parti? I've got the K-band detectors all set up… though that seems like less of an issue now."
He turns back and eyes the plane. That thing is… big. Very big. He wonders how May spun this to her bosses… probably best not to ask though.
*
Melinda May nods to Jericho, then moves past the 18-wheeler and toward the tarp-covered 'ugly fucker'. Even without any obvious expression on her face it's clear she's curious about what manner of vehicle it might be. She's not the ground-vehicle specialist — that's Coulson — but aircraft of any sort are always interesting to her.
*
Partisan eases past a few gigantic radial engines on their stands before grabbing the drop cloth and tugging it free. Right there, in the flesh is a mother fucking legend. One of the longest serving aircraft in the world, the world's largest biplane, the only airplane which is wholly and truly stall proof, it can fly with half its wings gone, it has a whole fucking toolbox to construct new flight surfaces in the field if necessary. From Russia with love, that is a mother fucking Antonov AN-2. Its wings have been detached and are set ever so gently off to one side, but the plane itself is a masterpiece of aviation engineering even sitting as it is. Painted with a mottled mess of grays and blacks, and set just below the cockpit lies a bright orange shield crossed with three arrows.
"I got it in Peru originally, and I just love the hell out him. Flew it all over South America, I have floats and everything. When I settled down in Colombia, I had it broken down and freighted up here. He's been sitting since about 88' waiting to be put back together." Reaching forward to pop open the door, if May wants a look inside. "Little known fact, but a properly prepared AN-2 is pretty much the original stealth aircraft. Low down there isn't enough exposed metallic surfaces to make a solid radar return, and against the ground there’s too much noise. Used it to great effect, never let me down."
*
Jeri's flight experience is all whirlybirds and, well, himself. He has so many hours on himself… which sounds so wrong and looks really awkward in a logbook. Still he grins when May looks interested in the aircraft. It's the first time, really, he's seen her show a personal trait. Well… okay, this one could be a work related one too… but he's gonna bet personal.
*
There are not many planes that get called 'he' instead of 'she'. This is most definitely one of them. May looks at the Anotonov in something as close to awe as she will ever get, looking the entire plane over with one hand lightly brushing along its fuselage. She almost — ALMOST — wishes for a moment that Romanoff were here to see this bird. And yes, May does look inside. All of the original controls, lovingly restored.
"I know some aviation museums that would …" She stops herself and shakes her head. "We load him first."
*
Partisan smiles in return "yes, I think we do. As for museums, fuck no. Planes were meant to fly, guns were made to shoot. They get retired when they're used up, putting a perfectly good plane in a glass plane is an insult."
Glancing back towards Jeri as she moves over to start kicking out the stops. "Wings are only a hundred pounds, the radials are well obviously gonna be a -bitch- but I've got a towbar and a taxi tug for him though."Peering around for a moment.
"Jerry, you wanna close the Semi up and drag the tug over here whilst I clear some shit out've the way?"
*
"Sure thing Parti." The hacker nods to May with a grin, gives Parisan a half salute and goes back out of the hanger to get the trailer properly moved out of the way. He doesn't bother telling the two women to play nice. They probably wouldn't listen to him even if they weren't going to. They'll hash out their differences… eventually… preferably not anywhere where he can be hit or shot at.
*
Melinda May steps around to the radials to see what they're resting on. If they can be moved as is, she has a MUCH easier way to get them aboard the cargo plane. "Save the tug for the small stuff. Get the towbar hitched, I'll be right back." She turns and walks briskly back up into the cargo jet.
It's a few minutes, but she returns with a tow line pulled out to reach the Antonov, including a few clever-looking things that she sets on the tarmac leading from the ramp toward the vintage plane. They appear to be set to gently steer the plane so that it'll be pulled up the ramp and into the jet with a minimum of fuss and maneuvering. Gotta love Stark Tech.
*
The Radials, each a few thousand pounds are thankfully on rolling dollies but pushing them up a ramp? Yeah let’s make a list of shit that ain't gonna happen, Mother Fucking Partisan or not. She's strong, you go get wonder woman you wanna do that shit.
"Well, alright. Antonov first, then engines, then Semi then little birds in that order I suppose."
*
Outside the hanger, the little tractor starts up and begins to drag the semi-trailer away from the hanger and toward May's bird, but out of the way s other things can go in first. Like the aeronautical love of both Parti and May's life. Jericho is grinning at that one, to be sure, and whistling jauntily as he goes about his work. Who said life with these two couldn't be fun? Well, no one. May'd Gibbs-slap them into next week where Parti would eat them.
Melinda May waits for things to be cleared enough to let Antonov through, then attaches the tow line to the old bird and pulls a remote from a pocket on her trousers to offer to Partisan. Her bird, her control.
"Controls are self-explanatory, tow motor has feedback sensors to stop automatically if you get hung up on something." She moves off then, leaving the Partisan to handle this part on her own. A sign of respect for a fellow aviator? Quite possibly.
*
Partisan smiles, and accepts with a polite "Thank you." She's rolled the engine stands out of the way, before she hits the switch and the Antonov gets rolling. The big bird is, well without its wings nor it's radial it goes without complaint. All but gliding without a hint of hesitation really.
"When I get him back together, I'd be amenable to letting you have a go at the stick if you want. Have a Casa you can buzz around too, it's less stock and well doesn't have quite the mystique but it like the Antonov is a proper pilot's plane," Partisan says, rubbing her chin quietly as she watches the bird go.
"May, do you have a private bird of your very own? I might have something pretty vanilla, that's free to a good home."
*
Jericho has by this point turned around and is trundling back toward the hangar on that old mule. "Well, no gunfire, no screaming, no deaths. All good so far. Yes, this is nice and reasonable and good."
Paranoia, however, makes him worry, just a tad. He doesn't need to worry though, right?
*
Apparently not. May is over checking on other various and sundry items to see how easily they can be loaded onto the cargo jet while the Partisan walks her 'old man' toward and into the cargo jet. The small stands that May set on the tarmac along the path of the tow line simply nest against the large hitch assembly as the plane reaches them, so there's not even anything to deal with as the bird progresses along.
Waving Jericho and his mule over, she prepares to hitch the first of the radials for him to drive on into the jet. Might as well multitask.
*
"No, we're getting along fine. I'm trying to unload some crap I don't have the space for onto her. Nice to meet someone who actually loves a good fixed wing aircraft."
Part dips her head into her cigarette as she relights. "May, you want an airplane? I mean for you, not Shield. It's in the way, I got it in a bundle with a bunch of other shit at a bankruptcy sale and I'd be oblige to give it away free to a good home." As she nods towards Jericho. "It's a little too, analog for Jerry."
*
Jericho chuckles as he hops off to get hitched up. "I can fly analogue sticks." He laughs. "Goodness. I just can't fly them remotely… without… special hardware. Which sort of defeats the point I suppose."
And then he's back on the mule and gunning it to get the first of several radials into the plane. The huge plane. This is going to make this move so much easier.
That said, Jeri clearly really doesn't do fixed wing. Rotor-wing craft or bust for him and he really, really does prefer things he can jack into. More than he'd admit though maybe less than Parti teases him about.
*
Melinda May looks over at the Partisan as Jericho trundles off again. "Love to, but no place to keep a bird and no time." It's not that she doesn't appreciate the offer. It's that she just spoke the truth. Well, that on top of her suspicion that this woman very rarely does anything out of simple generosity.
Stepping over to help make sure the Antonov climbs the jet's ramp without any snags, May can't help but wonder what it would be like to let the kid get his hands on a Quinjet, considering the level of computerization they carry.
*
"Not the first man I've ever met who can't get his stick to do what he wants it to without a little help I suppose." Grinning as she puffs on that cigarette. The Antonov is secured into place, before moving to snag one of those little birds on it's neat little rolling skid and drag it towards the transport before setting it just off to one side.
"Ah well, Beech eighteen takes up a fuck-ton of space too. I thought I'd get a buyer for it, but then the aircraft market just completely fucking exploded with the economy. So now I got stuck with a bunch've shit I bought off the bank and bankruptcies, they like to do that shit in lots."
*
There's a brief flash of blue from the aircraft as Jeri muscles something into place, but its there and gone in an instant. Moment's later the hacker is on his way back, not having missed Parti's barb. Now he's pulling up to the trailer.
"Okay, so this next?" He's giving Partisan a 'very funny' look but clearly not a glare and clearly in good humor. What can he say? He's gotten used to it.
*
Melinda May nods to Partisan, avoiding commenting on the little comment aimed at Trent. "I can understand that." Honestly, SHIELD would likely make good use of some of the civilian aircraft in some of their more remote cover missions, but she's not going to too just volunteer that kind of information.
*
When Jericho asks about the 18-wheeler trailer, she reaches for the jet's internal tow line again. "Tow it in with this, so we can pull it as close to the radials as possible." Advantage number two to this cargo jet: it has cool toys built into it.
*
Partisan offers may those smokes, before floating Jerry the controller for that winch. "Procurement isn't such a big deal when you're a Partisan, but it sort've makes you feel like shit when your burning works of art just to heat rations. Sort've makes me feel bad, I remember when planes were new. I dunno how it is for you kids these days, but the first time I saw an airplane it was like everything in the world just changed. It was utterly surreal, and then like forty years later I was stealing FW-190s for the RAF."
*
You'd think, by the way he moves to hitch it up, that Jericho has slung chain before. Normally that's not exactly a Spec Forces job but… sometimes trans and logistics just isn't around. So yes, he's slung lots of chain in his time. Getting a semi trailer hooked up to a winch is no problem at all. Of course. he doesn't have the tow line remote. Partisan does. Ah, and there it is now. The winch fires up and begins dragging the trailer the relatively short distance out to the interior of the huge aircraft. Once again Jeri goes along for the ride to make sure it gets seated and tied down properly. Not that he minds. If May and Parti get along this is undeniably a Very Good Thing.
*
Melinda May actually makes an expression!! when Partisan offers her a cigarette, rather akin to sticking a strawberry in front of a cat. At least she refrains from swatting the nasty things out of the younger-looking woman's hand.
"No. Thank you." She instead detours to start hauling some of the smaller items into the jet, securing several underneath the 18-wheeler trailer if they fit there. It's like playing 3-d Tetris. But with breakables and expensive, irreplaceable crap.
*
Partisan would expect that most everyone who's spent their professional career working on short notice fail zero sort've ops, would learn how to do everything from make proper fucking coffee to sling chain and load a transport. Hell, Partisan is more used to having to pay villagers to hump her gear over terrain, she's just happy if there are roads much less paved roads. By extension, having May and her transport makes this all feel a little like cheating.
“By the way, May. I'm liable to forget in between keeping track of everything, and moving in. Sincerely though, this is a nice thing you've done and I appreciate it."
*
Jericho is at this point too far away to hear whatever response May makes, making it entirely private. He's actually just finishing up securing the trailer and is in the process of walking back, but he doesn't appear to be in very much of hurry. Partly that's because it's New York and hurrying is hot. It's already hot enough out, thanks.
*
Melinda May nods to Partisan. "You have Trent to thank. He asked me to pitch in." In other words, if Partisan herself had asked, it's very likely that May would have told her where to shove all of her accoutrement. Well, maybe not. But she would have most certainly missed out on meeting Antonov.
The loading goes quickly enough even with Trent being all leisurely-like, and eventually every last item is loaded into the jet, secured in place with various sorts of bungees, straps, and nets. May gives a few of the lighter weight items a few last checks to make sure they're secure, then looks at the others. "Ready to go?"
*
Partisan tugs those big hangar doors shut, before flipping her smoke off to one side. "All cargo loaded and secured, I trust Jerry already told you where it is we're going?"
Already leisurely making her way up the ramp, to plop down on a jumper seat. Apparently obliged not to crowd May in her own god damned cockpit, it's not her territory obviously.
*
Jericho similarly does not enter the holy of holies though he does jack into the intercom system as he straps into what would probably be the loadmaster's seat in the hold, if this were a regular Air Force craft.
"Whew. This thing is up-engined isn't it?" He says to no one in particular as he listens to the engines spin up.
Melinda May was about to ask the Partisan to not smoke in the jet when she flicks that butt out of the closing ramp. Thank goodness. The last person that tried to bring smoldering tobacco onto one of her birds was … forcibly asked to disembark. Starting the engines spinning up, she settles her headset into place then replies to Jericho who is clearly already on the comm system.
"You didn't see the extra engines?" She offers a headset back for Partisan, even though the cockpit and seating area are actually rather well insulated against the noise. Just not perfectly insulated.
*
Partisan accepts with a polite nod "Thank you, this is a very nice bird you've got to fly." Settling in as she pulls her headset down and gets otherwise comfortable. Tobacco or not, it's not like the… well she didn't have a name for it yet. So the repurposed K-mart distribution hub, yeah that's not quite so far away in any case.
*
"I did." Jericho says voice distorted slightly by the system. "I just didn't realize that they were also more powerful than the standard issue. SHIELD doesn't mess around with these kinds of things, do they?" He feels May start to punch it. Short takeoff variant of a C17? That's just… wow. Normal C17's fly like bricks and handle like pregnant sows. This… he's guessing, does not.
*
Maybe it's time for a bit of showing off. May has the jet taxi away from the hangar far enough to be a safe distance (she's dealt with FAR less clearance, but if she doesn't have to she'd really rather not) before the jet stops again. "This isn't the nicest bird in the flock. Maybe you'll get to see her some day." Then the almost-Bus's engines turn to VTOL angles and the huge cargo jet lifts straight up above the surrounding buildings.
"Where are we going again, Trent?" Honestly, just for the amusement value of seeing their faces, she'd be totally okay with both of them crowding on into the cockpit. Besides, there are two empty seats in here so long as hands stay to themselves.
*
Partisan is more quietly surprised than anything, tilting her head out the port windows to study the bird's articulation more than anything. This is a whole new animal she's never really encountered before, and well she's the sort to drink it all in. "Just keep your approach, lets say as casual as you can. We're officially not an airstrip, so a lets say direct approach will just raise eyebrows. Jerry has the GPS co-ords of our landing strip I'm sure."
*
Jericho can't help but poking his head into the cockpit.
"Wait wait wait? This is a VTOL? Oh wow…"
He turns and looks at the GPS system on the console. "I'm gonna assume you're just gonna want me to read them off to you rather than linking in and uploading them?" Seems like the kind of thing that both SHIELD and May might be touchy about.
*
"Yes. And please." No mucking about with the bird's systems while she's in the air. Call it superstition or something. Once the GPS coordinates are rattled off and entered (by hand), the huge jet smoothly starts forward, the transition from VTOL to forward movement almost imperceptible. "We'll be there in twenty. Seat-belt light is off." Hyuck.
*
Partisan just grins, an hour drive either way. Three more trips planned, plus the Antonov in the hold. Yeah, this twenty minute flight just saved like twenty hours worth of slogging about. Who knows, Maybe May likes whirlybirds.
"Jerry, if you want one of the 206s your welcome to one. It's just sort've a shit aircraft though, I know everyone loves the Kiowas but it's a pickup truck of a chopper and a tiny one at that. Kiowas are sort've baller because the pilots have brass ones, not because the airframe is worth a fuck."
Pausing as she glances towards the cockpit. "Sorry May, odd thought rolling around in my head. Jerry likes Kiowas, I think they're pretty shit when we have access to things like MD500s, 530s, 540s and so forth."
*
"What can I say? We used them for a lot of exfil cover fire, when we needed it. I've got fond memories."
He chuckles. "I may take you up on that, Parti… one day when sort of being me is safe-ish again."
Trent is grinning like a a kid. He likes gadgets, fundamentally and this is a very neat one. SHIELD has some fun toys. Too bad there's only a single SHIELD agent that he feels like he can even remotely trust. Ah well. The fact that there is even one is a ray of sunshine, as it were. The fact. Not May. He can't call May that. She'll hurt him. And Parti will watch and laugh.
*
"Well, there are better ways to build the things," May agrees. She likes whirlybirds just fine. They're simply … primitive compared to what she deals with regularly anymore. They both likely do remember the Quinjet they used over in that disaster of a mission. She turns her attention more fully to getting them to the coordinates in the GPS and lets the other two chat — she has to have this bird back within a reasonable time frame or Hill might come sniffing about.
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