New Heads. Old HYDRA.

December 4, 2014: Several new HYDRA recruits are put through a suspiciously simple test.

Old SSR Facility

An underground, multi-level warehouse. Formerly run by the SSR, currently owned by S.H.I.E.L.D.



  • HYDRA Goons(Partly NPCed by Zola)
  • SHIELD Goons
  • Mysterious Holographic Man

Mood Music:

Time: Classified

Place: Redacted

"Absolutely not. The Scion of the Seas does NOT wear a blindfold, or any other foul-smelling scrap of Surface-Worlder cloth! Play your games with feeble-minded humans, Namor does not need your little Nazi club!" Namor throws an attache case against the nearest wall, so hard that the hinges break off of it. As the case breaks, the contents spill out. But the mastermind responsible for this little party has apparently anticipated a reaction like this, and all of the case's contents are protected in individual plastic bags.

The mastermind, however, is not present at the moment. Instead, The Sub-Mariner is dealing with two agents of HYDRA, albeit ones in plainclothes rather than the much more dramatic green jumpsuits. They, unlike the mastermind, were not expecting this reaction. But although they're used to more compliant guests, they react quickly. One scoops up the case, while the other does his best to persuade the tantrum-throwing monarch.

"Of course, Your Majesty. We certainly mean no offense. Our bosses simply realize what a threat you could be to our operations, and would take it as a most magnanimous gesture on your part if you'd wear the blindfold. For their protection, of course."

This seems to do the trick, and Namor's tantrum abates pretty quickly. "Hmph. Your masters are right to fear my wrath. Very well, I'll play along. But is the suit really necessary?"

"Unfortunately yes, King Namor. If anyone were to see you in your… er… royal regalia… it might jeopardize our plans. So we'd very much appreciate it if you'd deign to wear the disguise we've provided for you." The HYDRA agents are smooth, or at least they've been briefed enough on Namor's peronality profile to know what sort of tone is best to take.

About an hour later, a black SUV pulls up in front of an old, seemingly-abandoned coal mine. Out step the agents, and a Grumpy Atlantean King who has been forced to wear Hugo Boss.


The gathering of The White Queen went much smoother, with nothing in the way of dramatics or tantrums or any other form of bad behavior to make the agents' day miserable. She even allowed them to blindfold her. It isn't like she can't pull the location of their destination right out of their heads later, after all.

The trip goes well with nothing like delays to slow them down and the vehicle Emma has been transported in pulls up right behind Namor's and the HYDRA agent not driving gets out and opens the door for her. Slipping the blindfold off, the first thing she does is immediately take to telepathically scan the area, noticing the Alantean's presence even though she's not looking in his direction yet, that rather surprising.



A woman in a clingy black dress patterned with a mass of branching green tendrils along one side takes a seat in a well-appointed office belonging to Dominik Usov, produce distributor/criminal. She and Usov are joined by a number of other men, most of whom are in suits; the only exception is the metal-armed bodyguard standing vigil just behind Usov's seat, who is decked out in combat armor isntead. They've gathered here today for business, even if hers isn't quite the same as theirs.


<Your terms are excellent,> the woman says in Russian, green painted lips curled in a pleasant, if taut smile. Her eyes - hidden as they are behind sunglasses - drift towards the cybernetic bodyguard and she sightly cants her head towards him. A tiny, emerald light hidden just above one of the lenses begins rapidly strobing off and on as she continues, <I believe that together, we can build a bridge to a glorious tomorrow.>

The Winter Soldier's already empty eyes widen as he stares into the light, flickering away in accordance with a rhythm that some part of him's always known. With each word she speaks, it gets a little bit bigger - a little bit brighter - until he can't even see her. Just an endless expanse of green light flooding his senses and purging the world of lesser things.


The Winter Soldier's left arm becomes a metallic blur as he draws a handgun and swiftly fans it across the room to pop a single bullet into the the head of every man present, beginning with Usov. When he's done, he slides the weapon back into its holster and fixes his eyes on the woman.

"What is my assignment?" he intones.


The Winter Soldier is already on site when Emma and Namor arrive. He's amongst a number of other agents awaiting their arrival, but he stands out like a sore, severely brainwashed thumb amongst the sea of green and yellow. Each of them get a lingering look in turn as they emerge from their vehicle; even if security isn't explicitly one of his duties today, he spent enough time as a bodyguard that the instincts are still there, deep down.


As he fiddles with his tie clip, Namor surveys the area. He's never been the hugest fan of the scenery available on the surface world. But even as locations above the sea go, it's a pretty desolate one. There are no indications that anyone has been here in years, and the elevator that leads down to the first level of the mine is mostly covered up by weeds.

But this isn't what concerns Namor the most. The most pressing concern is the familiar face among a sea of generic henchmen. A nagging sense that he knows one of the agents immediately hits him, but he keeps this to himself, and busies himself with buttoning up his suit jacket. It might not be his first choice, but he manages to pull off a suit pretty effortlessly, despite not having worn one for decades.

He is less able to play off his surprise at seeing the blonde woman from his recent dreams suddenly show up in the flesh. His mouth opens slightly, and for a moment it looks as if he's going to say something pretty hostile to the White Queen. But whatever he was about to say, it'll have to wait, as any interaction between the group members gets cut off by the sudden appearance of a hologram in the middle of the group.

The hologram is basically just the black outline of a man, with no real details visible. The image flickers and jumps occasionally as it moves, but one can't expect hologram technology to be perfect, especially when it isn't supposed to exist yet.

When the image speaks, it's with a voice that has clearly been electronically disguised. "Good afternoon. You'll forgive me for my brevity, and for not making an appearance in person. But time is short, and I'm unable to expose myself to the risks inherent in such a meeting until some proof of your loyalty has been obtained."

Namor folds his arms and says "Harumph." very loudly.

"The three of you have been earmarked as exceptional candidates for our illustrious organization, due to your unique talents and penchant for moral flexibility. Therefore, you have been recommended for accelerated advancement, and will be skipping all of the tedious preliminary screening. But there's a catch…"

The holographic figure motions behind him with a sweep of his incorporeal arm. "Behind me is a seemingly-abandoned facility. However, beneath the mine is an old SSD facility that was repurposed when the organization transitioned into S.H.I.E.L.D." The figure turns back around, and adjust what appear to be glasses. "Think of this as a trial by fire. The three of you will enter the facility, unaided, and retrieve a list of items that is being uploaded to the watches that were in your attache cases. Get in. Retrieve the items. Get back out. It's that simple."


The surprise and the flaring of anger from Namor is like a lovely little gift, one he doesn't even know he's giving Emma. A slight purse of her lips is given as a 'kiss' but then, with a sigh, she gives up the game almost as immediately as she tries to start it. Their 'host', strange as it is, is listened to intently, her expression best described as amused.

"Why do it with three when I could probably do it myself," Emma asks with a glance given to the facility itself, the area swept with her gaze instead of her telepathy this time. "These two…" And at that she gives the cybernetically-enhanced man and the Alantean king a smirk, "… will only get in my way."

Ah Ego. Thy name is Emma Frost, apparently.


The Winter Soldier flicks his eyes to the watch on his left wrist as the other HYDRAffiliates around begin to disperse—possibly to secure the area, or to return to the nearest base, having done their job by keeping an eye on the place while Namor and Emma were in transit. Or to find a safe spot for a good ol' fashioned "HAIL!" off; there were some quiet, but fierce arguments about which agent wanted to bring about the downfall of Western society the most, much of which the Winter Soldier just kind of ignored.

"Give me your gun," he says, holding out his other hand without looking up; some of the parting agents within earshot peer at each other and weigh the merits of showing team spirit vs handicapping the new guy for a few beats before one steps forward to push a high tech rifle into his palm. His eyes scan over it briefly, and then he shifts it to his metal arm as he starts towards the mine.

Before he gets too far from Ms. Frost, though, he'll glance her way and flatly remark, "Only until the bullets are flying; then, I will take care to duck."


As odd as it may sound when the HYDRA trooper hands Winter his gun, he leans in a bit closer to say something before backing away, having had a spare gun just in case to give winter. It's a rather quiet simple and quiet phrase, and just as quickly the man's backing off to check his wristwatch his expression returning to normal after that sudden change.


If Namor were more prone to introspection, he might be amused at the full circle his life has taken. When this facility was being constructed, he was running black ops missions with the SSD, and trying very hard to slaughter as many HYDRA agents as he possibly could. But he's not someone who spends a lot of time thinking about the past, which will probably be useful to him right now.

"I will consent to this ridiculous game. But only because my curiosity has been piqued. But be warned, transparent cretinous image, if the terms of our deal are not upheld there will be nowhere on this Earth for you to hide. So swears Namor." The Atlantean mentions his own name as if he were appealing to some sort of higher power.

He doesn't bother checking his watch for the list. Or for any of the other information that is included in the file. Like, for instance, the floor plans. From the way he strides purposefully toward the elevator, he appears to be dead set on simply winging it.

"Come humans, I will guarantee your safety as long as you obey me without question. Or until I have no further use for you."

Somebody has read 'How to Win Friends and Influence People.'


The look the man she doesn't know is slightly amused but she doesn't say anything to him, nor does Emma speak to Namor. What she does do is follow along, using her powers to prod for information on The Winter Solder. She's very careful not to push too hard too fast as she doesn't want to alert him to what it is she is trying to do, her expression now bored.

A bored Emma is a very dangerous Emma, so it's best she find some way to keep herself amused.

"So I suppose I'll let you two take point," Emma finally says after she catches up to Namor, her gaze darted to the side slightly so she can look at the King of Alantis. "I'm just a fragile surface dweller, after all," the last said to jab at him. "So what is the plan?"


The surface of the Winter Soldier's thoughts is a melange of HYDRA propaganda/iconography and details about the mission. No niggling doubts or fears, no exterior concerns; not even any residual annoyance or frustration from the White Queen's cocky remarks. It might just be that he's that much of a professional, but a psychic of Emma's caliber could probably spot the truth, given a little time and carefully applied attention:

His thoughts are highly ordered, regimented— restrained in a way that can't possibly be natural. Beneath the unwavering HYDRA-loyalty, the ruins of his formerly fanatical devotion to the predatory ideals of the Russian mob are evident; past that, the beating red heart of a die-hard Communist. Past that, there's nothing; darkness. It's a tangled mess of conflicting ideologies and directives, none of which are actually his; even his moment of snippiness was really just the result of training in operating alongside non-hostile, non-national agents.

It's all about posturing, even if he doesn't appear to have more than the barest flickers of pride to have been wounded by her remarks.

"That would be wise," he says, slipping into position between Namor and Emma, "this facility is old, but it is not safe. I do not think that all of the security measures were deactivated."

Like the elevators: one combination of button presses opens the doors; any other combo will open the doors while also triggering a pop-out turret concealed in the ceiling. Assuming that it still works, that is.

Since the watch wasn't entirely clear on that point, the Winter Soldier takes a few steps to one side as Namor closes in on the doors and motions for Emma to do the same. He does offer, "You should check the mission briefing," as the Avenging Son moves in, but he doesn't offer much more than that. Namor demanded obedience; the Soldier might not be bound to comply, but everything about him seems to suggest an unwillingness to take direction.


"You may check the mission briefing if it pleases you, but I have not the time for any such foolishness." Namor takes a look at the elevator controls just long enough to realize that there's a keypad. Keypads mean codes, which he doesn't know.

With a scowl, he slams a fist right through the antiquated door panel, all the way through the steel wall, leaving an Atlantean Fist-Sized Hole when he draws his hand back. There are sparks for a second, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Elevators. Idiotic contraptions." He presses his fingers into the elevator's steel sliding doors, and rips them out, sending them flying backward toward the HYDRA goons staged innocently off to the side behind him. None of them get hit, but they definitely get a wakeup call.

As soon as the doors have been torn off, the air explodes with the sound of automatic weapons fire as Namor is pelted by a barrage of .50 caliber rounds in very rapid succession.

"Vashiden!" He curses in Atlantean, as he brings his arms up in front of his face to protect his pretty features. The force of the rounds is actually enough to push him back, nearly toppling him over.


The gunfire startles Emma even though she half expected this, it almost triggering her instinct to 'go diamond' for self-defense. But while that would keep her safe it'd do nothing to help the mission, really, and Namor and Winter Soldier both would both be vulnerable. Leaves only one thing to do and that's hold off on the self-protective measures and do something entirely different.

Using her telepathy, she does what she can to quell the desire to shoot in the guards, putting the part of their brain that defaults to violence to sleep. If she is successful, their guns will lower and they'll take to standing there, that's assuming none of the men firing upon them have defenses against telepathic powers.

That done, she looks between the two males, her eyes narrowing challengingly to her compatriots. "Now, shall we continue or do I need to wake them up so you guys can have your fun?"

And as an aside to Winter Soldier, she murmurs, "Honey, your mind is a mess. Ever thought about getting some therapy or something?"


Guards and a turret; after he hustles a few feet further from the line of fire, the Winter Soldier skids to a crouched halt so that he can frown down at his watch. It's promising that Namor is still standing - although really, there wasn't much doubt let once he ripped those doors free - but the bullets seem to have him pinned down for the moment.

At least, until Emma uses her telepathy to remove the guards from the equation; that should lessen his burden considerably. Just to be sure, though, the Soldier waits for a break in between staccato bursts before darting, then diving past the doors, squeezing off a couple of blaster shots at the protruding turret along the way.

After landing on his belly, he flatly replies, "My mind is not a part of the mission parameters," before climbing back to his feet. "There is no need to concern yourself with it." Nor, apparently, is there any need to concern himself with the dust now coating the front of his body, because he seems to just ignore it in favor of turning to Namor and repeating, "You should check the mission briefing— even if I am beginning to have some doubts about its contents."


Now that Namor has played his part by drawing all of the weapons fire, his suit pretty much looks like Swiss cheese. Shame, he pulled it off nicely…

As the bullets stop flying his direction, Namor once again rebuffs the Winter Soldier's suggestion with a loud 'harumph.'

"Harumph! I have been destroying human bases since you were a child!" That's… actually true. But the mission isn't to 'destroy the base.' "So I'll keep my own counsel on the best method to destroy this one."

He reaches inside the elevator, pulls the entire elevator out, and tosses it back in the general direction of the doors. Fortunately, the guards were in a position behind the rear doors of the elevator, which are now also gone. They should be fine, as long as they don't wake up and try to shoot Namor again.

The now-empty elevator shaft is exposed, and a cursory inspection reveals that it goes down quite a ways.

"Besides, I think this infernal contraption on my wrist is broken. None of the buttons work as they should." Translation: He has no idea how to work the wrist-computer. "So we'll do things the Namor Way. Hard and fast, with an explosive climax. Take my hands, humans. I will fly us to the bottom level, and we'll destroy everything in sight."


Emma's pretty blue eyes roll as Namor seems to want to start a pissing match with the Russian-made man, it not exactly the time for posturing. Despite her displeasure at the Alantean's behavior she takes his hand. Here's for hoping he won't crash.



"TAKE THAT, RATZIS!" Bucky exclaims while chucking grenades down at a Nazi Lab hidden in Black Forest. He is straddling the Sub-Mariner's back with a satchel full of explosives as the stormy Atlantean races over the wilderness. "Me an' my partner here have all the good ol' fashioned US of A ass-whuppin' you can handle—and then some!"

It's probably for the best that Cap is too busy punching Captain Nazi or something to frown disapprovingly at his partner's terrible language; he could do without the guilt trip.


The Winter Soldier has also been destroying human bases since he was a child, not that he remembers it anymore.

"Our mission is to infiltrate the base," he notes as he takes Namor's hand in his metal one, "for retrieval; destroying it would be unwise unless we were to liberate said items first, and likely imprudent even if we did. Your expertise in that field will likely be unneeded; how are you at scavenger hunts?"



"Woohoo! Give it to 'em, Bucky! We'll show these Krauts what happens to cowards who threaten democracy!" Entire sections of the building begin exploding, sending showers of lumber, brick, and plaster, in all directions. Mixed with the building materials are occasional sprays of blood and guts, as the scientists within the facility get shredded up in the explosions. It's all very Rated PG-13 for Intense Violence.

"Hang on tight, chum. Some of these rats are trying to run away! Let's show 'em how Real Men fight!" Namor's body tenses up as he speeds off, flying parallel with the ground with his arms extended forward and his face twisted into a joyful grin. He flies almost fast enough to send his teenaged rider flying backward, but fortunately he's got a good grip…

He quickly catches up to two of the scientists, yanking them off of the ground and smashing them together like scientist-shaped pumpkins at a Gallagher show.

It's perhaps surprising that Bucky grew up to be so well-adjusted…


"Silence poltroon! I will have none of this…" Namor pauses right in the middle of pointing a finger right in the Winter Soldier's face. "Well, I suppose you raise some valid points." He lowers his finger, and his eyebrows uncross a bit. "I have devised a new plan. I will do things the Namor Way. Hard and fast, with an explosive climax. You humans will sneak around and accomplish whatever objectives have been placed on this 'list' that I have been far too busy to read."

With a step forward, Namor begins quickly falling down the elevator shaft, feet first. Dragging the poor humans along with him by their arms, he descends at a pace that's not exactly healthy. But as the ground quickly approaches, the little wings on his feet begin flapping furiously, gradually slowing the approach.

But unfortunately, the entire base has been alerted by this point, thanks to Namor's very stealthy entrance. Bullets begin to fly before the trio have even reached the ground floor.


This is getting boring. Some of the first volley pings harmlessly off of Emma who has shifted forms, the light glittering off of the organic diamond her body's made like it would a real gem. Once the gunfire slows she shifts and gives them the same treatment as their friends once she returns to normal, yet again stopping the use of weapons with just a minimal use of her powers.

Sighing, The White Queen pulls a small nail file out of a pocket and starts to use it to smooth down a rough edge, her manicure ruined as she somehow snagged it on something. "I am sending that weird the bill for my manicurist," she mutters, Emma sounding very disgusted.


The only bulletproof part of the Winter Soldier's body is dangling from Namor's hand; the rest of him has to make do with armor.

"Ahhk—!" the Ghost of the Cold War tersely exclaims when a shell explodes against his chest and causes his whole body to sway perilously backwards. It's fortunate that he has such a good grip on Namor(and Namor, in turn, on him), because he could have easily been sheared free from the Atlantean's grasp otherwise.

Emma seems variably immune to bullets and focused on shutting the gunmen down; she and Namor might have him beat on the durability front, but he can at least pull his weight on the threat mitigation front. His approach isn't nearly as painless as Emma's, though: it mostly involves squinting into the darkness speeding past him and squeezing off blaster shots at whomever he sees or hears down there; the importance of locating the items on their list prevents him from liberally spraying the shaft, but the green beams streaking through the abyss afford him with some vague semblance of guidance.

"I am surethat your expenses will be covered," the Soldier shouts over the gunfire, pausing for just a moment to fire a shot through one guard's eye, "as long as they are properly itemized! Hailour employer."


Having released his grasp on his passengers' hands, Namor goes back to doing what he does best. Posing. But his normally-dramatic figure is rendered a bit less imposing by the scraps of clothing hanging off of his body. Fortunately, his trunks and wrist bands are made of much sturdier stuff than the suit HYDRA provided. Unfortunately, this probably means that SHIELD will have a pretty easy time fingering him as one of the break-in suspects.

With his arms folded across his chest, and his feet hovering a few inches from the ground, Namor surveys the area as he lazily floats forward. "There is probably some sort of power generator or doomsday device on this level. I will find it, and make it explode. You two will accomplish all of the goals on the list while I accomplish our True Mission."

He's still completely wrong, but you gotta admire the way he sticks to his guns, no matter how obviously wrong he is.

"Now get to it! Imperius Rex!" With a sudden jolt of speed, he flies forward, tearing through several walls and making lots of large holes for his teammates to use as doorways as he flies around the level looking for things to smash.


"No, you men go ahead. I've got to take care of this nail before it breaks completely." Emma waves the file-wielding hand dismissively as she puts on airs of disinterest, moving only once she is sure that there is nothing she can do to repair that poor, damaged cuticle.

One of the soldiers is approached and she glances at him curiously, her expression vaguely annoyed. "You military and government types. Always having to go and make the bad guys lives so complicated." Reaching towards him, she runs fingers through his hair as she scans his mind, seeking out the location of where the items they are searching for might be. If she succeeds, the information will be passed on to Namor and Winter Soldier, all without having to say a word.


The Winter Soldier watches Emma tend to her nail for a good four or five seconds, gradually tilting his head to one side and furrowing his brow the entire time.

She seems really into nail-care; fair enough. All those holes Namor is making should make it easier for her to catch up when she's satisfied.

The brainwashed assassin tosses the weapon her way before darting through one of those holes. He needs his hands free, and they're going to meet up again anyway; it adds up perfectly to him. Soon enough, he encounters a guard of his own, prompting him to press himself against a wall while he draws a knife.

He is right in the middle of sliding the blade into the man's neck when Emma's psychic info bulletin hits him; his metal hand clenches around the guard's mouth as he tries to process the flood of new data. A few seconds later, he withdraws the weapon, stares blankly at the walls around him for a moment, then picks a path that leads towards the nearest objective.


An incoming info dump is always a bit disorienting. Though Namor has had some experience lately with the jarring effects of unexpected telepathic communication, he isn't able to multitask well enough to process the new data AND fly in a straight line. Which means that he veers off of his course and slams into the ground hard enough to make a goood portion of the facility shake as if it were experiencing an earthquake. Fortunately, he's far enough away from the rest of The Team to keep either of them from seeing it.

"Stay out of my mind, witch!" He says out loud to nobody in particular. But it's likely that Emma will get the message no matter where she is. She's tricky like that.

Another stroke of good fortune: He's crash landed right in the storage room where one of the items on the list is being held. No doubt this is due to Emma's directions, but he'll be certain to take credit for it at the very first opportunity.

He rips yet another door off, but this time it's the door of something that looks very much like a safety deposit box. Inside the drawer is a small metal attache case that looks as if it were designed to be sturdy enough to survive even if the facility were destroyed by some sort of exploding power generator or doomsday device.

"I've found my item. Now make haste and recover the rest of them while I find some sort of power generator or doomsday device to destroy the facility." Again, he's talking out loud, so whether anyone will know what his plans are or not is far from certain at this point. But whether they're up to speed or not, he flies off again in search of the means to destroy the facility, despite it not being their mission.


A low sigh sounds from within the others' heads as Emma starts to pick her way around the mess that has been made so far, her posture and expression that of one who finds this entire scene to be very distasteful. "Looks like some kind of horrible frat house party…" she grumbles darkly to herself, her careful steps soon bringing her to where her own sougt-after item is found.

"I got mine as well. Shall head back." And like that, with nothing more said for now, the White Queen returns to where their rendezvous point is. Any potential threats are dealt with appropiately, whatever scragglers are left made to believe that they are kids out at the playground during recess. Several begin to play hotpsotch and everal more play a rather elaborate clapping game and one very large man finds a place to stand, finger in nose although that might be less about his being made to believe he's eleven and more the fact that he's just a very tall man who likes to pick his nose.


There is a trail of bodies from the elevator shaft to the Winter Soldier's target; given that they shot/mind controlled their way in here to begin with, stealth is already out the window. Some have their heads twisted just about all the way around, others are electrocuted; others still, stabbed.

The corridors are kind of a mess; at least there isn't some kind of terrible explosion ripping through them or something.

Eventually, the Winter Soldier finds himself in the lab where his target - a metal cylinder with a security pad and no fewer than five black skuls stenciled on its surface - is waiting in cold storage.

"I have my item," he says to, hopefully, somebody as he tucks it under his fleshy arm like a football so he can return to the rendezvous point. "I am returning to the rendezvous point so that we may leave and complete our mission."


Of course, Namor has no idea that the Winter Soldier has completed his task. Emma is the only one with telepathy, after all. But the resident telepath has already relayed her success, so it would be smart for Namor to head back to the rendezvous point as well and make sure that all of the objectives have been completed before beating a hasty retreat.

This is not what Namor does.

Instead, he continues looking for some sort of power generator or doomsday device to destroy the facility with. As he searches the lower levels, he gets hit with the occasional potshot from the rapidly-dwindling supply of guardsmen. This doesn't bother him, it merely creates an opportunity. Grabbing guards one by one, he bellows threats until one of them finally gives up the location of what he's looking for.

Brief seconds later, Namor is once again flying through metal bulkheads and taking the most direct route to the rendezvous point. He carelessly tosses the attache case to the Winter Soldier before spreading his arms the way a defensive lineman would right before making a tackle. "We must depart at once! I have succeeded in locating the means to destroy the base, and have used my Atlantean powers of persuasion to convince one of the guards to set the power generators to self-destruct!"

He seems rather insistent, and if he's correct it's certainly a matter of some urgency that they depart as quickly as possible. But what are the odds he's actually correct?

With his arms outspread, he launches himself forward, all but crushing the other two in a flying tackle as he speeds toward the elevator and then flies straight up the shaft.

Yes, it's the same way that they came in. Fortunately, most of the people who would think to cut off their escape route have been dealt with in some way or another.


Emma gives the King of the Oceans a very level look once he makes his way to where she's just met up with the solider, a brow slowly inching up as she regards the Alantean with a shake of her head. "Was it good for you?" Her tone of voice hovers on annoyed but it ebbs when he gives his warning and follows that up with bumrushing her and the Winter Soldier both and all but scoops them up and takes them on out. Good thing she wasn't standing around in her diamond form as he might have caused her to shatter with the impact. As it stands, her ribs are going to be sore in the morning.

If anyone's left to get in their way Emma deals with them swiftly, those poor men not really standing a chance against her. What gets left in their wake? Possibly a few men sitting, drooling.


When the Soldier gets back, he sees that not only did Emma resolve her manicuremergency, she completed her objective. This earns her a firm nod of dead-eyed approval before he scoops up the blaster he tried to make her catch and and waits for the last member of their trio.

Eventually, he arrives - crashing through everything, of course. "Namor, di— " is as far as he gets before the king starts yelling about doing that thing that he was already told didn't need to be done.

Of course.

He has enough time to shift the canister to his left arm before Namor slams into him; the blaster goes flying out of his other hand almost as soon as he gets a hold of it, and he grunts as all the air is driven out of his body. While he does what he can to twist himself with Namor and minimize the trauma to his body, it's still a painful trip; his body was already bruised on the way down, after all.

By the time they make it top-side, the Soldier has managed to unholster a pistol for the escape; pacified or not, the first guard he sees gets a bullet to the dome before he twigs to the fact that Emma is taking care of them anyway. At that point, he keeps the weapon clutched in his hand but concentrates more on trying to breathe and keep ahold of the canister than firing it.


For someone who clearly doesn't place a lot of value on human life, Namor is being awfully gentle with both the White Queen and the Winter Soldier. Of course, the only other people present to base a comparison on are all the SHIELD turds that Namor has stomped or dismembered in the last few minutes. So perhaps a few bruised ribs aren't all that major an injury in the grand scheme of things.

Flying up the elevator shaft, Namor takes care to not ram into anything, as is his usual custom. He also takes care not to accelerate to fast, as this would be almost as bad. Instead, he maintains a relatively slow speed, and gets them out of the elevator shaft just in time for the grand, magnificent explosion.

He gets several hundred yards between them and the facility, apparently anticipating a ridiculous blast. That is, of course, what he ordered the guy in the boiler room to do. But after he gets a safe distance from the facility and sets his teammates down, he hovers in the iar with his arms folded, looking back at the facility that is steadfastly refusing to blow up.

"Vashiden! These SHIELD cretins must have found some device to block out my Atlantean powers of persuasion!"


"Here. Let me."

Emma starts to scan the minds of those in the facility, looking for the one the king was trying to convince blow up the place…. ah, there he is. Takes a moment but soon she mentally does what Namor couldn't and the brief countdown begins. A smug smile is turned towards the both of the men as she shrugs a shoulder, just in time for the ground to start to rumble under foot. "I think it's time for us to return, wouldn't you gentlemen agree?"


At first, the Winter Soldier is relieved at the lack of an explosion. Destroying the base was not within the mission parameters; if the mysterious hologram had wanted that kind of attention, he would have asked for it.

And then he remembers the blaster he left behind. And the person who Namor persuaded(or 'persuaded'?), and anyone else who may have somehow, however improbably, seen one of them and come away with their bodies and minds intact.

"Perh— " he begins to say as the beginnings of a plan for quick re-insertion and sabotage begin to come together.

His eyes flick down to the rumbling ground, and then Emma; he allows himself a second or two of appraising/staring at the psychic before beginning to back away.

"Did you— do something?" he warily wonders.


"Hmph. It probably just took a few minutes for my powers of persuasion to effect him through his helmet."

Namor views the explosion dispassionately, as he was clearly hoping for a much more dramatic one. This one probably won't even make the local front page.

"Persuasion. One of the many powers I possess. For Namor can duplicate all the abilities of every creature that lives under the sea." He forces this into the conversation, as if he's been trying to find an organic way to announce this to his companions all evening.

"It's no big deal, just the reason that your species is doomed to perish in the face of my wrath." He looks back and forth from the White Queen to the Winter Soldier, apparently expecting some sort of reaction.


The Soldier's question to Emma has her blinking slightly before, with a sigh, she puts on an act like she's disappointed at being semi-accused of something. "Would I do that," is poised in rhetorical fashion. "Nothing to be gained by distroying this place, after all." And to punctuate her statement, an explosion, this one a lot closer, rocks the building.

Glancing from face to face, she lifts a shoulder, Emma's expression rather dispassionate. "I do think we have over-stayed our welcome, so let's be off." And to further drive home the point that leaving is a good idea, each man gets a mental shove. C'mon, boys… time to blow this popcicle stand.


The Winter Soldier regards Namor's claims with a hint of suspicion. Strength of a whale, sure; stubbornness of a crab, certainly He is having a hard time picking out the persuasiveness(of the anglerfish?), but—more explosions rock the facility before he has too long to consider.

Besides, Namor has moved on to talking about genocide; the Soldier's eyes shift between his fellow operatives and then he shrugs, almost in time with Emma.

"We should go," he then says, breaking into a run away from the facility. If there are any lingering HYDRA goons, he makes sure to wave them along.


"Harumph. I will leave. But only because I have many duties to attend to."

Namor keeps looking back and forth between the two fellow terrorists, but still isn't seeing whatever reaction he was hoping for.

"The pressures of ruling…." for a split-second, it looks as if he's about to go into a long schpiel detailing his many responsibilities, and perhaps his workout schedule. But he is cut off by the sound of a VTOL aircraft suddenly descending very close to the group. Already, the HYDRA goons are running toward it as fast as they can go.

The craft's ramp is already fully open before the craft touches the ground, allowing the troops to run straight inside with minimal delay.

Of course HYDRA already had an escape plan in place…

"There! We will take this craft, for I grow tired of carrying the two of you around." Namor begins running up the ramp with the rest of the minions, pausing in the middle of the ramp as if a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Not tired /physically/, you understand. That would be preposterous!" His point made, he resumes running up the ramp as the craft's engines start whining louder signalling the impending departure.


Emma rolls her eyes at the egotistic commentary from the Alantean but doesn't do anything but give Winter Solider a sigh and a shake of her head, that being all she'll do to show her lack of amusement where this has ended.

The craft is boarded and directions to drop her off as close to home as possible is given but then Emma disappears somewhere on the ship so she can sit in silence.


After dashing into the escape craft, the Winter Soldier drops into a seat and gingerly shifts his skull-covered canister to his lap for safe(r) keeping.

"I am going to miss that rifle," he flatly remarks as another explosion rocks the facility.

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