July 19 2014: Sara goes to enlist SHIELD aid in getting Paul out of Turkey… and boy does she get it

Triskelion Lobby

The lobby of the lion's den is surprisingly modern art, full of suited people with guns and apparently just kind of the place to be right now.



  • SHIELD Agents

Mood Music:
[* None]

It's a normal day for most of the world. No unusual criminal activity, no super attacks. The Triskelion is probably running as much like an ordinary cubicle farm as a hub of international espionage and other things can. Sara's life, on the other hand, is a shambles. And though Steve Rogers was probably her first call, she doesn't seem to be able to reach him. Sara is too stubborn to just give up on that sort of thing. So she caught a cab down to the Triskelion, where she's currently accosting some innocent front desk secretary.

"Yes, I'm sure the system says I'm suspended, that's because the system thinks my partner is dead, and we can't do anything until the investigation is complete, except my partner is not dead, so if you could put me through to Rogers, or…May, or…What was the other guy's name? Coulson?" She's not ready to drop other names just yet. One step at a time. "Detective Sara Pezzini. NYPD. Jesus Christ, just page someone. Please."


Nothing like visiting potential recruits with the 'boss'. It means you can't go home again after the meeting, so it means you can't get changed out of 'nice' clothes and into 'regular, comfortable' wear. As a result, Agent Clint Barton actually looks a little dressed up for the 'occasion'- a pair of (slightly grease stained) trousers, a button down shirt.

Perhaps he's a little unrecognizable as he moves through the lobby during Sara's accosting of the front desk secretary, but he's interjecting anyway. "Oh hey.. hey.." Barton has his back to the desk, and he's got a hand out to the distraught Sara. "Detective… hold on.. what's up?"


It's only a matter of time before word gets through, going progressively up the chain that is SHIELD command.

"Never heard of her."

"Pezzini? What the heck is a Pezzini?"

"'Crazy chick at the front office? Sounds like something for security. No wait, take it to Hill. She interrupted our card game last week."

It's there in the lobby, barely three feet back into headquarters beside Hawkeye and likewise dressed in complete 'men in black' mode, when Maria Hill's comm chimes to life. "Miss Hill, we've got-"

"A disgruntled New York detective in the lobby, yes," she says in a dead tone before closing the comm channel in one swift motion. "And not a moment's rest was had - Pezzini, what seems to be the problem?"


The front doors open as May arrives and waits for Trent to follow her into the building. She knows the typically non-descript man has every reason to honestly dislike this place, and hence why she went out personally to 'retrieve' him. Of course, this is how things usually go — Pezzini is here in the lobby as well, and Barton wearing… yeah, and Hill.

As soon as Trent is through the doorway she steps past him to approach the others in a sort of not entirely subconscious move to put herself between the cyborg and the depdir. But, since Hill /did/ speak up first, she lets the question stand as is.


Jericho folds his arms the moment he sees Hill and lets out a sigh of the very put-upon. "Eff my life…" He mutters, in echo of the statement he made when he first met May. "I take it this wasn't on the itinerary? Hrm, wait. What's Sara doing here?"

The hacker straightens his shirts, having gone for the two layered look today. It's way too hot for a jacket but he still has to conceal a firearm. Because, you know, apparently even the presence of Captain America isn't enough to deter folks from shooting at him. Also yes, May is correct. Jericho doesn't like it here. Because reasons. Some of them named 'Hill'.


"Barton," Sara exclaims with a sigh of relief as Clint steps over, shooting a look at the secretary. See? She wasn't making things up. "Paul's alive. I don't know if you heard, he was sort of on the dead list for a few days," she adds quickly, shaking her head. "But the point is, he called. He made it out. Except the exit was in Turkey somewhere, so now he's stuck in the middle of nowhere Turkey, with no passport, nothing to prove who he is, no money, no nothing. And I know you all don't- I just-" And then Hill shows up, and the detective pauses. Well, that escalated quickly. "You're the only people I know who'd have resources in Turkey and wouldn't think the story was insane," she summarizes.


Barton doesn't pay attention to the secretary, his back turned now. The detective has his full attention, and a hand lifts in an attempt to slow her words down. "Okay.. hold on. I didn't know he was dead. Or, was thought dead." Taking a deep breath, the 'who, what, where, when, why and how' can wait, as far as he's concerned. "Dead, but not dead. He's alive." This hits a little close to home, thankyouverymuch. "In Turkey."

A hissed breath escapes. Something of a 'hot spot' at the moment, what with the Middle East doing their 'thing' as only that region can do. Still, it's something of a friendly. Something.

"Turkey's not the best place. Couldn't he find an embassy or something?"


A nod of acknowledgment is given May, though a lingering look is given to Trent. Barton is more than familiar with 'the layered look' and what it can have. "Put him through the wand," he says quietly to May. "Not good." No sense in raising his voice, what with Hll around.


"Oh look. We've found the party," Hill deadpans upon seeing Jericho nearby. Then, speaking loudly enough for the -entire lobby to hear,- she says "You're looking about thirty ounces heavy on the right, Trent." Because something like a gun, metal or polycarbonate, isn't going to go unnoticed in HQ. She doesn't need to hear Clint's remark to May. She's got eyes of her own, and the TSA would trip over themselves for a shot at getting the Division's body scanners at the doors.

So far no one's trying to take it from the guy, at least. So far. Chances are real good that he won't be leaving the Triskelion with it, however.


Dead? (Huh, do roaming charges still apply if the call is made post-mortem?) After hearing just a little of Sara's plight Hill gets one of those 'eff my life' expressions as well, ducking her head with one hand at a hip and the other massaging the bridge of her nose.

"Turkey," she flatly repeats. Once again speaking way louder than necessary she holds her arms out wide and addresses the entire lobby "Can -anyone- tell me -why- we still don't have teleportation at our disposal! -Christ,-" she hisses while her tone drops back down to a lethal whisper, "-Turkey.-" Snapping her fingers once with her other hand back at her hip, she asks "What do we have in the area. Anyone. We've got a whole fleet of Helicarriers. The hell's the Iliad up to these days?"


Melinda May tried to get Trent to leave that firearm behind, but no. Despite her very strong suggestions he's got the pistol like some kind of … Ghostfacer. She nods ever so slightly to Barton, then all but glares at Hill's choice of overdone threatrics to get her point across. Turning to look at Jericho, she simply holds out one hand. There's no need to bother with 'I told you so'. Because she did. Four times.


Jericho reaches under his shirt and hands a polycarbonate 1911 to May, the correct way, his hand on the barrel so no one thinks he's dumb enough to start shooting in here. This is what happens when surprise trips to the Triskelion happened. The hacker shoots Hill a mild, neutral look. One that May knows means 'I hate you people so very, very much.' Really, if he wanted to commit suicide by SHIELD, there are so many better options for making them angry than shooting up their lobby.

"Paul's alive and in Turkey?" He hadn't heard that Paul had been dead, but then he doesn't track Paul. Paul's clean. It's the dirty ones he's worried about. "How the hell did he get there?"


Speaking of teleportation, there's a faint whoompf across the room in the direction of one of the elevators, a bare outrush of air as Grayson Scott appears. He gets a few brief looks at first perhaps second glance. Good thing he chose this as one of the now several points he is aware of in the Triskelion for across the way is Agent May… and the lackey electroics guy! Perfect, the young man in casual clothes starts to step across the room. Once he's a bit away he lifts his voice, "Agent May! Agent May. Good news, the dogs are okay!"


"If he could get to an embassy, do you think I'd be here?" Sara replies to Clint's question. For a moment, her expression matches Hill's almost perfectly, and she seems torn between being properly intimidated and appreciation for the deputy director. "He's not even sure where he is. I got him to snap some cell phone pictures before he had to get out of the house he snuck into to get to a phone," she adds, pulling out her own and holding it out to any agent who's willing to take it. "I don't know if you can trace Turkish phones, or triangulate the landscape pattern, or whatever it is you all can do, but that's what I've got. And he sort of went the long way around, Trent. Through hell. Literally. Thus the not having a ride back." And then Grayson runs into the room, and she tilts her head, quirking a brow at May. "Turned him, too, huh?"


Oh shit..

Barton doesn't have his bow, but he, and many other people in the lobby are actually armed with sidearms, and the SHIELD agent's comes out immediately (didn't think he could move that fast, huh, Hill? May?), pointed at the newly arrived. "May?" Why does it seem all of a sudden that he's seriously lacking in intel here?

His expression has dropped from anything even vaguely appearing his usual self to something a whole lot harder. A hell of a lot more serious. "Okay. Not joking around now." Just in case anyone's missed the memo.

At least Trent is passing the weapon. One.. May -knew he had-?!

"When someone is under a great deal of stress," Barton begins, "One doesn't consider options and does what is best in the moment. He may not have considered the Embassy. It's not a stupid question."

Now, however, the archer isn't willing to put his gun down, but he at least isn't keeping the detective covered (Or the other SHIELD agents, even if he is a little miffed at them!). Fingers wiggle in a 'let me see' gesture, but the pictures mean nothing other than it's accurate. He's been to Turkey (cough), and that's where the guy is.


Good on May for retrieving the polycarbonate sidearm, though Hill still gives Jericho a look of disapproval. "Cutting-edge polytech on a design that's over a hundred years old? You're an embarrassment."

Here's someone else that she doesn't yet know, coming closer and blabbing to May about… dogs? Angrily sweeping an upturned palm in Grayson's direction, she pointedly inquires "Now who the Hell is this guy?" just a second after every agent in the lobby drops whatever they're doing to draw their sidearms and aim them at Grayson. They are, in turn, just a second after Barton. She'll have an answer on who he is soon enough, there's facial recognition scanners all over the place.

"Why is my lobby turning into a zoo, people!" Turning to May, she snaps "You know this guy? You've got five seconds to get me up to speed before he experiences Division hospitality." Which means a nice, cold interrogation room and thorough security.


At the first syllable of the first Agent, May turns and snaps Trent's 1911 up (a scant second slower than Barton and only very slightly faster than everyone else because the firearm was already in her hand) to aim at the… oh for pete's sake. She huffs in annoyance as Scott approaches and lowers the pistol again, this time taking an extra moment to remove the magazine and eject the one round already in the chamber.

"Do you remember a report last week about a theft of an experimental solvent, and the teleporter that forensics proved wasn't the one that pulled off the heist?" she asks of Hill, then gestures toward Scott. "Deputy director, Grayson Scott." She also refrains from introducing anyone to the man that isn't necessary. Withholding names to protect the guilty, and all that.

And then, it occurs to her. "He's a teleporter with a range of at least several throusand miles." She reaches over and snags Sara's phone and hands it to Trent, the silent command to track those images clear.

Jericho folds one arm across his chest and facepalms with a long, drawn out sigh. "He just teleported. Into the Triskelion. In broad daylight. Didn't he?" He murmurs to May. Oy. Well at least that makes packing a sidearm really sort of normal by comparison. Hill gets rather studiously ignored. The things he wants to say to her are not very… prudent.

"Hell huh? I wonder if he ran into…" Jericho seems a lot less shocked by that answer than he should be. Of course, he's not aware how many Hells there are that aren't Limbo.

"Wait, cell photos? I don't suppose you have them? And the phone number they came in from?" He wouldn't normally be… obvious in front of SHIELD agents, especially someone like Hill, but this is important.

"Can I see the pics? Just forward them to me. You still have my number right Sara? I might be able to place him." If he's lucky, Paul will still have the phone on him. If not, it'll at least give them a place to start looking. "Actually, you know what…?" Jericho realizes he can just reach out to Pezzini's phone and grab the info he needs. Which he does. Hey, it's not like he's hacking a SHIELD server. "Hang on a sec…"

Google image searches and matches combine with weather satellite data and cell phone records as Trent tries to run down the location of the pictures, the phone when it placed the call and the phone presently.


Hands shooting up quickly, Grayson looks terribly sheepish as his eyes widen. His eyes flick from one person to another, clearly looking much like the mouse amongst a room full of cats. He licks his lips for an instant and then when May makes the introduction he sort of gives a small smile of greeting.

"Charmed." Taking a step back only slightly he glances towards May and then says lightly, "I'll uh, call you." And with that there's an abrupt /Whoompf!/ and a brush of displaced air as just as quickly as he arrived… he's gone.


"Scott, wait!" Sara tries to shout before the teleporter can pop back out of the building, grimacing as he disappears. "Well, that would have been too convenient." She doesn't protest when Jericho takes the phone, handing it over easily and looking around the group of people for just a moment, something almost softer flickering across her features. She's just not used to being able to take her problems to someone else and…see them being solved.

With the phone playing its round of 'hot potato', Clint's not so much concerned with that. Turkey, yeah yeah. Got that. It's actually the fact there's a teleporter that is hopping in and out of the Triskellion now, and even he knows that's a real problem.


With his pistol still out, Barton's walking slowly towards the spot now vacated, and once he gets there, chuffs in annoyance and reholsters the weapon. "Dammit May. Even I know enough to use the damned front door." As evidenced by the visit to Ms. Croft's penthouse apartment. Now that he has a name, however, he moves briskly towards the front desk, and unceremoniously checking the secretary aside, takes over the terminal. Soon enough, the archer's got the file up. (Oh look, he's got clearance.)

"Yeah. Must come in handy in evading Interpol," is said dryly. "I'm willing to fly."


"Well, isn't this just fortuitous as shit," Hill deadpans upon discovering that there's now a teleporter right here in the lobby with them all. 'Grayson Scott' is a name to remember. That he's here, right now, all on his own? Guy's got some serious nerve! Either that or a significant lack of self-preservation.

Alright, so it's a delayed reaction. Even faster than he had stepped out of the elevator… he's gone. Sigh. "Almost… fortuitous as shit. Alright, I can only focus on fifteen things at a time here, people. Security, make sure that our jump-happy friend isn't getting into anything -else- he shouldn't be. Iliad, someone, anyone."

Another Agent comes up beside her, quietly passing along the information she's after on their wayward carrier. The info is taken with a slight nod, though her expression isn't cheerful. There's a lot of ground to cover and limited time, because there's -always- limited time in situations like this. Sara and Paul may not be SHIELD but they have proven to be very useful allies. Hill's still willing to extend similar efforts their way as she would to any agent within the Division.

"Get an interceptor prepped on pad one."


Melinda May resists the urge to sigh and press the hell of one hand to her forehead. These damned strays. She looks at Jericho, somehow can already tell that he's off in computer-search-land, then offers Sara her phone back. If Barton snags it again, that's on him.

"Yes, he's a small time thief. Below our radar. But again. Teleporter." She pulls her own phone and before starting to dial looks at Hill and Pezzini. "Permission to enlist Scott's help in recovering Detective Manning." Yes, she'll fill out the necessary paperwork. "And I'm driving," she says in Barton's direction.


Jericho just needs to touch Sara's phone. Some things are easier with direct trace access. Yep. It's a good thing no one can see his HUD. "Yeah, okay. Yenikoy. Sowthwest Turkey. Nowhere near anything important. Population 1100. It's in the sticks, so no embassy for Paul. Too bad. I can get you exact coordinates, if you'd like." Jericho shrugs. "Assuming, at any rate he still has the phone. Even if not though it's a good place to look. Someone's got to have seen a white American. Not a whole lot of those around there really."


Sara lets out a breath when Hill gives the order, relief clear in her features. "He left the phone in the house where he found it," she shakes her head to Jericho. "But he said he'd be hiding out on the south side of town before he left." She looks from one face to another, then nods firmly to each. "Thank you," she says quietly. "I- This means a lot. For whatever that's worth."


"Teleporter, May. He's either on our radar or the SRD's. He'll have to decide that one on his own." With a little help and/or nudge from certain areas. Look at Barton… he's acting like a real SHIELD agent!

Never for too long, unless he's in a prolonged firefight, which this is not. Now, brows rise and he shakes his head, a lopsided grin threatening. "Nope. I've got the keys on this one. You get to babysit your buddy," and he gestures towards Trent. "I don't know who the hell he is either, and I sure as hell don't trust him." Twisting around at Hill, he catches her commands and the grin grows.

"Time for an interceptor ride. Oh, kiddies, if you've never, you'll -love- this. But.. give me a few. Need my stuff."

Barton does need his equipment, and begins the cross to the elevator to his office, where he own personal secondary stash lies. "Meet you on the tarmac."


Here it is… Agent May is asking for Hill's permission. The Deputy Director could just groan at the thought. "It's been a while since I've had a vacation. Common-sense is overrated, anyway. May? He's -your- responsibility," she (perhaps needlessly) reminds the Agent. "Recall him if you can. Stand down, everyone. We're about to invite a known teleporting fugitive into the building. Standard operating procedure."

Yeah, because -Fury- never did anything unorthodox before.

Pause. Stare. "Did you really just figure that out by yourself?" she presses Jericho with a frown that's solid enough to rate on the Rockwell Scale.

Clint's counter-argument about flying is, actually… a very good point. "You've already got your hands full, May. Barton, you've got the helm. Five minutes, anyone that's taking this pilgrimage needs to get their asses in gear. Let's bring our man home safe."

That said she finally turns to Sara, addressing her directly for the first time this encounter. "This is what we do. Your partner'll be back to chasing domestic druggies and gang-bangers in no time."

Melinda May mentally considers something, then calls after Clint. "Bring a spare change of clothes, Barton." If he's going to insist on driving, then he gets to be the one to loan clothing to Manning who likely really needs some fresh clothes by this point. Besides, if Manning can fit into her jeans, she'll kill him. She finishes dialing a number on her phone and starts the call. "Scott," she says in her usual abrupt manner, "Get back here."


Jericho folds his arms and smirks at Hill. No, he's not gonna tell her how he did it. "My Kung-fu is strong." More like hack-fu, but whatever.

Clint's reaction gives him pause. The lack of trust doesn't precisely sting… but the last thing he needs is to be getting in the way of the real objective here, which is finding Paul. "May do you want me in on this? It's not exactly my OP." And I'm not trusted here, he doesn't add. "I might be able to help on ground or provide an air search, but if it'd be more trouble than it's worth…" He'd love to help Sara out here, but these are SHIELD resources they're dealing with here and if he's not welcome along, that's their affair.


ppearing suddenly once again out of nowhere, it takes Grayson Scott relatively little time to return, though now he appears standing beside Sara Pezzini with that tell-tale whoosh sound and displacement of air. When he appears, he looks around terribly tentatively while holding a pair of tall cocktail glasses each with tiny umbrellas inside and a pale yellowish liquid inside the frosted drinks. He cocks an eyebrow as he looks towards Melinda May, though he extends the most likely ill-gotten Pina Colada towards the police detective.

"So, hi." He leans forward to sip from his drink then he asks openly, "Everything settled down and stuff?"


Sara turns quickly at that whoosh, though she doesn't reach for a gun. Instead, she lets out a relieved breath, reaching out to take the offered drink. Because, well, why not? Her partner's alive, it's a good time for a pina colada, right? "You've really got to think about where you're popping into, you know," she suggests helpfully. "But yes, I think we're settled. How far can you teleport, anyhow?"


Settled down..? Is this guy for real?? Hill stops herself short and spins about to give the (again) newly arrived meta a glare that could shatter a block of ice at twenty paces. "One screw-up, Scott. Just. One." She doesn't want him here, she doesn't want his help, she doesn't trust him in the -slightest.- However, he has something that they can make use of. If he plays nicely with the friendly SHIELD agents then just maybe they'll look the other way the next time Interpol comes a-knockin.'

Great, so now they've got the interceptor and a teleporting meta. Just how do they want to play this? There's time to figure it out. Right now she has her own gear to round together.


Melinda May is thankfully already dressed in her mission normal attire and is ready to go. She flinches when Grayson reappears, and mentally is glad that he didn't try to offer her that beverage. "Airfield is this way, she tells the three non-SHIELDies she's been tasked with babysitting for this mission. Sara she's got no worries about, and Jericho she's learning to see as more of an asset than a liability. Grayson, though, is still a wild card. And he's going to have to PROVE that his being here was not a mistake.

"Trent, don't you dare try to bail out now." Stick a tracker on the teleporter or something. Make yourself useful.


Jericho finds a convenient piece of modern office lobby art to lean on whilst he waits. Right now he's half paying attention to the remaining people here - Sara, May and Scott - while he pulls up everything that might be useful on the local conditions, police reports (the ones that are electronic anyway) notable events and such. "Scott, what's the largest object you can teleport? Be really handy if you could just take the entire Quinnjet out to Turkey."

Ugh. He just remembered. Paul was convinced Jericho was a SHIELD asset. This… isn't gonna do wonders for that opinion, is it?

May's combination threat and invitation gets a laugh and he levers himself back upright and nods to Sara. "Looks like you're stuck with me, Sara. Hopefully we don't get shot at this time."

Tracking a teleporter could be fun, especially if he could get video feed from it. Sadly, he's not about to break out bugs here in a place where his gun drew such a response. Well, sadly for May. Good for Scott.

Jericho falls in behind May, almost like he's done this before.


Grayson's head bobs a few times and he says after a nicely long slurp on the straw. "Like super far," He answers Sara first, looks to May, but then his eyes fall on Jericho. Companionably he answers, "Not something that big, but if needs be I can ferry folks pretty quick." He lifts a hand to scritch the back of his neck thoughtfully, "I mean it's all sorta about converting the energy or sommich. I mean I could move more but then not as far. It's more art than science." The young man's voice drifts wistful, he then looks over at Sara, "So what're you doin here fer?"


"That would be a spectacular change of pace," Sara agrees with Jericho, setting the pina colada on the counter next to the secretary with an apologetic look. Secretary probably needs it more than she does, after all of that. "Oh, you know," she answers Grayson as she follows May toward the jet. "Just visiting some people who can pick up my formerly dead partner from a small village in Turkey. You? Dog rescue?"

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