Kick Them While They're Down

January 28 2015: Zola is briefed on recent events

Zola's HUB

Zola's Hub is not unlike a James Bond Villian's fortress



  • Functionary (Emitted by The Joker)

Mood Music:
[* None]

The HUB, a mass complex of hidden passages, levels, offices, false bottoms dead ends and secrecy. No one person knows for sure how deep it goes or even how many people work down here, but to those who work here it's known that a quiet night is hard to come by. Through the seemingly endless facility men women, and machines toil away the machinations of one giant mass of planners thinkers and terrorists at work.

Inside an office hidden deep within the compound Zola sits quietly before a large control panel, fingers steepled. There had been so much going on as of late that it was nice to for once simply sit before the rows and rows of computer monitors and ruminate. Thousands of cameras switch between millions of angles fallowing action across New York far too much information for one man to process, and yet for Zola it's rather relaxing.


One of Zola's functionaries comes into the room, shuffling a large stack of papers. "More Reports, Herr Zola. Still recieving rumors and reports through our loyal cells that someone is directing high tempo occult operations at SHIELD in HYDRA's name. No identity attached to it so far and the memebers of the Council that have responded have not indicated that they know who or why it is occuring." He pauses. "The operations have been rather effective of late. There was an attack on the Triskelion two days ago that did significant damage to both the structure and it's inhabitants. Also, Namor, the Sub-Mariner has betrayed us and declared war upon all who are loyal to HYDRA."


"All according to plan, then I see?" Zola offers turning around in his swivel chair. His current body looks somewhat old and frail a fitting choice to the stories. Even so he looks rather good for being one of the oldest mortal men alive. Zola comes back to a stand with the help of a skull topped black cane, to match his pitch black suit with bright red tie. "It pains me to know our intelligence is slipping," Reaching out his free hand for the stack of paperwork.


The functionary hands them over. "Whomever is… giving orders in our name knows old command codes and knew of our existance before hand. We are not presently aware of any other projects to utilize occult forces, so where he is recruiting his practitioners is as yet unclear." Beat. "Your orders, sir?"


Zola grabs the papers with a rather shaky grip, moving back over to place them down onto the control panel. "I want him found," A short pause "not stopped, found." His free hand flipping open the folder of information in front of him running a single bony hand across its surface. "I do not enjoy when there are unaccounted variables, as such we shall account for every possibility." The other hand clutching tighter around the head of his cane. "You understand what failure in this simple task will mean? Yes?"


Apparently, this particular underling has had… shall we say several examples over the course of his career. "Yes, Herr Zola. He shall be found." There's a pause. "What of the Sub-Mariner, mein Herr? If he continues on his present course he will surely begin to substantially impact our operations."


"That is the point young one," Zola looking up towards the wall of CRT monitors heroes fighting villains, air strikes, assassinations, a confusing mass of so much violence death and destruction. "Make sure that he finds exactly what he needs to keep the fire of hatred burning, and we will direct it" He pauses placing his withered hand against the screen a small smile cracking across his face. "exactly where it needs to go,". He starts to laugh only to cough heavily into his hand pulling out a strange looking inhaler. "With luck he will spark the war we have been waiting for, in his quest to rid the world of us," A long puff of air going right from the inhaler into his mouth.


"Then the factories in Rwanda are next? I have had them evacuated of all essential personnel. Only low level drudges and enough guards to be convincing left. With your permission I shall let word of it slip and see who takes the bait." There's another pause. "What of SHIELD. With the Triskelion in disarray we may have an opportunity."


"Ah, SHIELD" Zola repeats with the fondness of a man speaking of a lost love, placing the device right back into the pocket of his suit. Explosions flickering off people running from their homes, and tanks rolling across endless deserts. He takes in a deep breath of air, a few of the failed recruits being thrown to their deaths on the monitor right beside his head. "I would concur," His hand still held tight around the head of his cane. "We have the clear advantage, so why not press it?" The mans full attention falling right square back on the HYDRA soldier. "Kick them while they're down, as it were.". His footsteps carrying Zola closer to the man. "Make the call to our friends in congress, I think they may find SHIELD has been something of a liability as of late."

"As you wish mein Herr." The underling salutes and goes to carry out Zola's orders, leaving the man to contemplate his screens and plans. Importent men such as Zola are not to be bothered with minutae, after all.

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