Getting with the program 6: Captain Aboard

August 25, 2014: Captain Rogers is the second person to arrive for the trip to Syria.

Hangar 14 - The Bus

All matte black, this jet — heavily modified from a Boeing C-17 Globemaster — is enormous. The main pair of wings sport two huge jet engines each, and a second smaller pair of wings behind the primaries just ahead of the tail sport two more engines as well. Small porthole-like windows are scattered down the sides of the jet's body, and when viewed from overhead, the jet has a black-on-black SHIELD logo centered over its primary wings. When not in the air, the jet's cargo ramp is typically left open to allow people and supplies to come and go easily.

The inside of this cargo jet has been completely redone, outfitted to be used as an airborne mobile command station. The interior areas no longer used for cargo have been split into three levels — the topmost being a smallish command deck with a large bullet-proof glass skylight, the upper main deck divided into three comfortably sized staterooms and nine smaller bunk areas as well as a kitchen/lounge/dining area, the lower deck divided into laboratories and storage and prisoner holding/questioning rooms. The back fourth of the plane's interior space has been kept as cargo space, including room for two vehicles to be secured to the loading ramp.



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Mood Music:

It's late. Not quite late enough to be considered early, but it is definitely late. Having just finished the last of the necessary checks to the Bus before the morning takeoff, May has settled in to eat her dinner of spicy fried Pho vermicelli. And IF Logan's lucky, he's getting to share.


Spicy noodles and exotic liquors? Count him in. Wolverine's policy is to never drink before 5 o'clock, if he hasn't traveled to the timezone where it's presently 5pm or later. Which gives him effective carte blanche to indulge 24/7 when the mood strikes; of course the healing factor helps. He's half-slouched in a seat that sags just that little extra with the alarming stress of the diminutive mutant's heavy frame, across from Agent May, and his input likely tripled her takeout order— and from the Wolverine's appetite, apparently not (just) to troll her.


Steve understands traveling light. Not long ago (as far as his perception of time goes, anyway) he was jumping into occupied territory with just his uniform and his shield. He's aware of the Bus and its generous space but he has still packed hardly a thing as he tromps up the ramp into the modified airplane. He's wearing his uniform, the cowl drawn down from his head and his shield fastened to his back by a pair of straps. He holds a duffel bag with his name stenciled upon it over one shoulder.

"Are there assigned berths or should I just - " He pauses for a moment as he looks past May at Logan, a glint of recognition in his eye. But he lets that pass. It was seventy years ago, not last week. "Sorry. I didn't know you had company, Agent May."


Melinda May looks up at Rogers as he arrives, honestly a bit surprised she didn't hear the man enter. Of course, they're in a secure hangar, so only authorized personnel would be able to just walk in. She'll blame it on Logan. Moving to stand, she gestures to the smallish rooms set along either side of the small galley-like area she and Logan are in. "No assigned berths. Take your pick. If you brought anything more than that, there's cargo space below." And good thing you got here before Stark, or there might not be cargo space left.


The Devil's Brigade, Wolverine remembers. Or at least, he has one hell of a highlight reel, including the run where the Star-Spangled Man took Logan's job as pointman and did it with as much panache as the old soldier'd ever seen, before or since. There's a deeper nostalgia to the way the Canuck studies Cap, not least for the surreal sensation of remembering a guy from decades in the past that he seems to remember better than the guy remembers him. Logan's life is complicated— at least when it comes to trying to draw a timeline.

The feral mutant takes Agent May's distraction as license to refill his glass from her bottle, his relentless and ravenous appreciation for fried noodles similarly slowed rather than stopped by Rogers' arrival. At least, until he does interject in a convenient lull, "Cap. Glad they decided to keep you on ice." It has both irreverence and respect that bespeak familiarity— about as polite as Logan gets, out of the gate.


"This is all I have," Steve answers. "And I'll wait until everybody else has their pick. I'm not much of a sleeper and I've got some reading to get done."

He's catching up on the history that he missed quickly when he isn't out in the field. But even a Super Soldier has to take time off occasionally. As a testament to his words, he reaches into his duffel and pulls out a copy of 'A Brief History of Time' to show the pair. He slots it back in, giving Logan another long look before half-smiling. Hell, Zinda is alive and kicking. Why not the Canuck?

"Thanks, Logan."


Melinda May nods to Rogers and returns to her seat, promptly eyeing the liquor bottle and Logan's glass, then Logan himself. No, you didn't fool her. But at least her noodles went undisturbed. "All we have is some Pho, Captain, but you're welcome to a helping if you want. Or, there's a kitchen through there with some basics." Well, not a proper kitchen per se, but some place to warm up edibles and fix hot beverages.


Really, when the Bus isn't in the air, it's nicer than a lot of places Wolverine has stayed— and he's clearly willing to make himself at home. The glass is just raised in toast to the other shortass badass before he tosses back a hearty gulp punctuated with a wolfish grin and the wipe of one thick forearm. "It's good." He appends to Agent May's offer, nodding once to the containers of pho.

"About what I said." Logan offers to Steve's assessment of the berths— even if the Canuck's had a little more 'fucking plane' implicit within it. Apparently deciding he's had about enough to eat, Logan rises smoothly and snaps his own duffel back up and over one shoulder, "I'm gonna stow mine somewhere and have a look around, though." It's also what passes for 'goodbye', though he pauses at the galley door to scan thoughtfully from Rogers, to May.


"Pho?" Add another item to the mental list of foodstuffs people eat all the time now that he hasn't heard of. That said, Steve pauses and watches Logan go before glancing back to May. "I'm not all that hungry, myself. I ate before I left the apartment. I was hoping to just get situated and bide my time until takeoff."


Melinda May ahs and nods to Rogers, then nods her head to the food. "Vietnamese. Healthier than fast food, and frequently faster, too." She takes up her chopsticks again and resumes eating, deftly plucking a cooked shrimp and a dark green leaf from the chaotic looking mix of noodles and … stuff. "Feel free to settle in, wander around, whatever. Coulson's office is up top, though, don't go in there if you know what's good for you." It's not that she thinks the other senior agent would be angry at someone snooping about, it's more that that place is just short of being a shrine to Captain America, and it might be a little uncomfortable for Rogers to see that. Let him think it's because Coulson guards his private space jealously. It's safer that way.


"I wouldn't intrude on anyone's personal space," Steve promises, nodding his head to May and then making for the ramp. "If I'm needed for anything I'll be in whatever passes for a common area. Don't hesitate to call."


"Understood, Captain." May eats for a moment longer, then looks at the liquor bottle and moves to put it away. Before Logan comes back for another refill.

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