Post by DiscipleofBob on Mar 5, 2016 17:32:15 GMT -5
Agents of SHIELD #15:
Power Play
Power Play
[12 Hours Ago]
[SHIELD Briefing Room]
Camp Lehigh was a welcome change of pace from the cramped safehouse. The latter was only designed to accommodate a handful of agents at a time, but here, everyone had a chance to stretch their legs. They weren't vying for chairs in a crowded conference room for briefings anymore, but had a full table with office chairs and built in tablet computers for every agent, with every seat able to see the holographic projection on the wall for the meeting.
As the agents filed into the conference room, they were surprised to find not Rogers or Coulson up front, but Nick Fury himself heading the briefing. "Hope you enjoyed your R&R, but now break time's over. Time to get back to work."
Barton let himself lean back and relish in the comfort of the office chair, even giving himself the occasional kick to slowly spin around in place. "Hey, what's Coach doing here? I thought he stayed off the field to grade papers," he asked, referring to Tony Masters who occupied one of the seats at the far end.
Fury opted to ignore Barton's usual antics in favor of answering questions as quickly as possible. Otherwise, this briefing could go on all day. "This is a major op. We need every heavy hitter we can get. For the time being, Masters will be joining you as a temporary field agent."
"In other words, I'm here to cover for your sorry ass," Masters grinned. "Besides, it'll give me a good chance to see the lot of you in real action, where you can't just claim you're holding back because you're in training."
"Enough chit-chat. We're on a time table so let's get this started," Fury cut off any further verbal jabbing as the lights dimmed and the computer screens around the room flickered on, displaying articles, pictures, and SHIELD files on various gangsters. "The Maggia crime families have been operating internationally since the early twentieth century, driving out other crime families like the Cosa Nostro. However, in recent decades, they've fallen to infighting as various feuds have eliminated several major Maggia branches."
"Some of which SHIELD started, not that they know that," Payne added. Fury's eye narrowed at the interruption, or perhaps at knowledge that wasn't necessarily supposed to be part of the meeting.
"As I was saying, the modern Maggia have been reduced to four families."
"Four? Last I heard there were only three families," said a somewhat puzzled Romanoff.
"I'll get to that in a second," Fury said as he clicked a remote and a dozen different screens popped into existence, each with a full profile on a different leading Maggia member. "Of the four current families, two are old money. First, the Silvermane family, headed by Silvio Manfredi. He talks a big game about honor and tradition, but it was on his word that two outsiders were allowed to come in and form their own branches. We suspect it's to try and instigate more competition between newer families and his primary rival, the Nefaria family.
"The head of the Nefaria family is Count Luchino Nefaria, and he's been trying to consolidate the Maggia under his rule for the better part of a century. He's a purist who prefers keeping certain bloodlines in control of the business. He may not look it, but he's older than Silvermane. We suspect he has some kind of decelerated aging, possibly genetic, but more than likely he's managed to acquire artificial means to stay young, and we're not talking yoga. What financial records we can access show some shady investments that support this. We also strongly suspect that Count Nefaria has ties to HYDRA. We don't have anything concrete to prove this though.
"Next is Hammerhead, leading his own branch. He represents the labor class of the Maggia families. He worked his way up the ladder as an enforcer and won the support of a lot of the lower-ranking Maggia men; enforcers, bag men, transporters, you name it. He's been running his own operations for nearly a decade. He's known for ripping apart his enemies bare-handed. It's also no secret that he and Nefaria have no love lost between them."
"Finally, there's the newest blood, Parker Robbins, aka the Hood. We don't have the full story, but apparently he strong armed his way into the Maggia by assassinating one or more of their rivals. He's been given a small contingency of Maggia enforcers, but has yet to form any large scale operations. We strongly suspect that Hood may have some connections and abilities of unknown origin, but other than that he holds the least amount of influence within the families."
"Uh... unknown origin?" Payne asked.
Barton decided to try to answer for Fury before the latter could stop him. "You know, magic, supernatural, paranormal, any of those words that Fury refuses to use, even though locked up in the metaphorical SHIELD basement he's got a-oof!" A kick to the gut quickly knocked the wind out of Barton.
"Thank you, Romanoff. As I was saying, those are the four families..." Fury clicked his remote and a different screen took center prominence, this one with two pictures of a young blonde woman, side by side in two outfits, one a Maggia enforcer suit, the other a SHIELD uniform. "And this is our deep cover agent we sent in sixteen months ago: Agent Barbara Barton, aka Mockingbird."
"Barton?" Rogers was quick to note the name. Clint was instantly sitting upright, his goofy laid-back demeanor completely wiped away to the point where he was almost unrecognizable.
"Mockingbird was sent to infiltrate the Nefaria family, and over the past sixteen months she's worked her way through the ranks to become Nefaria's right hand enforcer. Unfortunately, we now believe her to be compromised."
"Compromised how?!" Clint demanded.
"On the last communication we received from Mockingbird, she failed password protocol when she gave a failed confirmation."
"Failed confirmation?" Rogers asked. Romanoff was quick to fill him in on the more modern SHIELD tactic.
"It's one of several codes we use in certain SHIELD communications. You take a set of words, say, key words from a song or nursery rhyme, and work them into an otherwise casual conversation as passwords. Words from the first stanza would confirm who you're talking to. Second stanza would confirm that it's safe to speak plainly. And so on."
"Wouldn't that be easy for an enemy spy to figure out?"
"That's the point, because while passwords from the fourth, fifth, and sixth stanzas might be codes for requests for backup, extraction, or maybe there's a delay in the operation, one of the early stanzas, usually the third, is not to be used under any circumstances."
"Why? What's it used for?"
"Nothing. That's the point. It's never used, so if the enemy is somehow able to impersonate an agent or control their actions..."
Rogers finished, quickly following along. "Recognizing a pattern between the first two passwords only traps them into giving away a compromised agent."
"It's not a foolproof system. Obviously it does nothing if an agent has actually defected, or if they've somehow been forced into revealing the full password set, but in an era of superpowers, shapeshifters, and more, it does catch the occasional impostor," Fury continued.
"So Agent Mockingbird failed password confirmation. Meaning she's being impersonated?"
"It's one of several possible scenarios. That's why our first priority in this operation is confirming Mockingbird's status," Fury said as he clicked over to the next slide, a top-down view of a dock warehouse. Clint stayed silent, no longer interested in joking around to liven up the briefing. "We've been maintaining communications with Agent Mockingbird, or whoever's impersonating or controlling her, but any information we receive now is suspect. Fortunately as long as she doesn't suspect we know, tracking her and therefore Count Nefaria is relatively simple. We know that the Nefaria family is organizing at this dock warehouse. Satellite recon has placed Mockingbird and the Count himself at the scene, meaning this isn't a standard shipment. On top of that, intel has placed all three other family heads in the area. There's a meet going down, and it will most likely be here..."
[Dock Warehouse]
Two Maggia enforcers pried open the crate lid. Count Nefaria inspected its contents and nodded. "And each item has been inspected and handled appropriately?"
"Yes, boss."
"Good," the Count said, motioning for them to replace the lid. With one less worry on his mind, he turned to a thousand others. Fortunately, his top enforcer, had finally made an appearance. "Ms. Morse! I sent for you some time ago! What took you so long?!"
The blonde enforcer, in yellow-shaded sunglasses and a custom-tailored pinstripe Maggia suit, was briefly stunned, but quickly recovered. "Apologies, my Count, but your orders were to ensure that your daughter was safe and secure. After I escorted her to her room, I did a perimeter check in case our enemies had sent scouts."
The Count took her words into consideration. "Very good. I knew I could count on you. Tonight your task will be to guard her location, and should there be any signs of trouble, to escape as soon as possible."
"Beg your pardon, but wouldn't it be better for me to remain here?" Morse said. Count Nefaria's anger at being questioned necessitated her to explain further and quickly. "That is... with radio silence, it's going to be difficult to tell if any disturbance actually merely a brief setback, or whether or not I need to escape with your daughter immediately, or even if I need to secure your escape as well. I'm only trying to take into account every possible scenario, and to do that I ask that you allow me to assess the situation here, rather than risk communications being shut down or intercepted. Besides, an excessive guard on your escape boat would only draw unwanted attention."
"Hm, you have a point," the Count admitted. "Very well. If you are certain my daughter is safe where she is, you have my permission to stay and observe. Though if the tide should turn against us, your top priority is her safety. Is that understood?"
"Yes... my Count," Morse bowed as Count Nefaria moved on to oversee the rest of the operation and prepare for his guests, more comfortable now that he knew that Giuletta was safe. Little did he know that Giuletta and 'Ms. Morse' were one in the same, and that his daughter was standing by his side in what soon would be the full thick of the action.
After Fury gave the initial briefing, it was Rogers's job to establish a plan of attack and make sure everyone understood their roles in it. "We need to get eyes on site as soon as possible. Satellite recon gives local geography so we can at least figure out where the other families will be coming from, and hopefully their escape route. Carol, you'll be our eye in the sky with a cloaked Quinjet. Barton, you'll take recon on the ground."
The archer was quick to object. "No way! If you think I'm sitting in some window watching all the action while my wife is god knows where-"
"Let me finish. As soon as you locate Agent Mockingbird, or have a solid lead on her location, you'll infiltrate the compound quietly and confirm her status. If she needs medical attention, you'll get her out just as quietly. If she can join the fight, you're both welcome. Agent Mockingbird is the number one priority on this mission, even above capturing the Maggia heads."
Barton took a deep breath and cooled down. Tonight he'd have to work even harder than usual to keep his emotions in check. "That's fine by me, Captain."
While Madame Masque was working at her father's side, confident that her two captives were out of the way, Agents Hawkeye and Mockingbird had already escaped unseen and unheard. A minimal guard contingent meant as long as they were careful, they could get to a safe point without alerting any of the Maggia. From a nearby rooftop, they overlooked the warehouse. They weren't the only ones as the rest of the SHIELD team got into position, observing but making sure not to be seen. Perhaps it was his wife's presence, but even Hawkeye was taking the mission seriously.
While the Maggia were paranoid of possible intruders, they were also distracted by preparing for the arrival of the other families. The nearby streets were devoid of traffic this time of night, making the arrival of several vehicles more than conspicuous enough to get the Nefaria family to stand at attention and ready their weapons, just in case.
The vehicles were motioned inside the warehouse. First to arrive was a white limousine followed by a small gray truck. Out stepped an old, wrinkled man with gray hair and a white suit, leaning on a polished cane. Out of both vehicles poured out his personal guard, a small army that could rival even the occupied warehouse in terms of manpower. Silvermane expected trouble, and he was wise to.
A large, black SUV drove up front and center, and stomping out was the massive Hammerhead, tall, muscular, and with a built in steel helmet wedged in his head. He had a small group of men to watch his back. Unlike the Nefaria men and Silvermane men in clean cut suits, the Hammerhead enforcers dressed in blue collar denim jackets. Hammerhead preferred a show of force and intimidation with his mere presence, undercutting the elder Maggia leaders by proving he didn't need a bunch of flunkies to protect him.
The final black sedan seemed meager by comparison, but its owner was the youngest of the Maggia leaders, both in age and experience. Parker Robbins stepped out of the back, with his unearthly red cape draped around his shoulders as usual. His posse was decked out in red hoodies as a sign of solidarity. Though among the well-dressed members of the other Maggia families, even the Hammerheads, their brightly colored casual wear stood out. The other Maggia families found their wardrobe questionable, except for Nefaria who took it as a personal insult and found it infuriating.
Still, he had been outvoted, even if it was perhaps out of spite, to let the Hood in as a leader of the Maggia. So to avoid a potential war against the combined forces of the rest of the family, he'd let it slide. "Gentlemen, welcome! I regret the lack of refinement in our meeting place, but for my... our purposes today, it is a necessary discomfort," Count Nefaria declared.
"Cut the crap, Count, and get to the point!" Hammerhead shouted. Count Nefaria grimaced back, but forced himself to not return the insult, figuring that Hammerhead was just jealous that he was no longer the largest thorn in the side of the Nefaria family.
"Gentlemen. Too long have the Maggia been reduced from the proud families of entrepreneurs we once were to dogs on the street, barking and begging for scraps. We are not common criminals! We are the Maggia! We have a legacy to uphold!" Count Nefaria gave his speech as he strode over to one of the many crates unloaded earlier. At his request, the nearby Maggia enforcers opened it. "But we cannot live up to our glorious family name by staying in the past. No. We must be constantly evolving with modern times. Not just to survive, but to thrive. To that end I have acquired the latest development in weapons technology that will make the Maggia feared and respected once again. Forget Stark and his toys! Forget SHIELD and their false sense of superiority! After tonight, the strongest weapons in the world will be in the hands of the Maggia!"
What Count Nefaria pulled out defied everyone's expectations. It appeared to be replica tommy gun, circa 1921. One of the Maggia guards let out an uncontrolled laugh, but quickly silenced. The other Maggia heads were trying to figure out whether they should be insulted, or fear for the Count's sanity, or both. Count Nefaria took their reactions in stride. "You'll forgive the antiquated appearance. The aesthetics are of my own preference, but I assure you, you've never seen a weapon like this. Targets, please."
At Count Nefaria's discretion, several Maggia enforcers cleared an area with a few mannequins, a steel safe, and even a truck with a bullseye painted on. The Count took the rifle in one hand and aimed it. Hammerhead chuckled. "Careful, old man. The recoil on a pea shooter like that would probably blow your arm clean off."
Undaunted by the skepticism of the other Maggia heads, the Count pulled the trigger, but instead of the full auto antiquated machine gun fire, a stream of liquid napalm sprayed out from the tommy gun, striking the steel safe and melting it like chocolate. Hammerhead's mouth hung open, and the other two Maggia heads were similarly shocked.
Count Nefaria wasn't done. Rotating the ammo drum of the tommy gun, he aimed at the mannequin and this time fired a white and blue energy stream that crystallized on impact, encasing the mannequin in a 6-foot cone of solid ice. Rotating the tommy gun again, he fired what appeared to be a metal slug into the dead center of the truck. But far from a normal round, the one shot left a crater that covered nearly the entire side of the truck before the whole vehicle tipped over from the impact of one round. "I trust I have your undivided attention now?"
The other Maggia heads were silent, as curious of the full extent of these weapons' capabilities as they were afraid that the Count would use these weapons against them here and now. "This is the Toolbox, the first of many weapons designed with versatility and efficiency in mind, and near zero recoil to boot. Gone are the days when some bulletproof man in a mask disrupts our entire operations, because now with these weapons we can compete with any level of so-called superheroes."
"Masters and I will make the primary assault team. We'll crash the party and make sure to draw their attention. That will be the signal for everyone else to act. When your other priorities are taken care of, back us up. Though hopefully we'll be able to handle ourselves."
"We're talking no less than 50 heavily armed Maggia enforcers, plus the heads themselves and their top bodyguards. You're sure the two of you will be able to handle that much attention?" Payne asked.
"You couldn't?" Masters said with a chuckle. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to share."
"Don't jump the gun," Rogers continued. "We don't know exactly why the Maggia are meeting. We'll need to observe and confirm as much as possible before we move in. Coulson, you're coordinating. You'll make the call."
If it were daylight, and the Maggia lookouts had good eyesight, they might have noticed the vague warped light in the distorted shape of a cloaked Quinjet. They wouldn't have noticed for very long, as it had more than enough firepower than a few goons with rifles. At least that's what the agents aboard thought until they saw Count Nefaria's weapon demonstration. Carol kept the Quinjet study, with Coulson in the copilot seat keeping track of every agent in the field.
Captain America and Taskmaster were in the jet too, ready to drop down into the fray at a moment's notice. Captain America in his restored uniform, modified only slightly for modern convenience and to fit the necessary SHIELD tech and the SHIELD insignia emblazoned on his shoulder. Taskmaster's uniform stood out similarly. It was a custom-fit, thick, white and black bodysuit, armored only in vital positions that didn't hamper movement. His face was covered in a full mask, the design vaguely resembling a skull. Combined with the white hooded cape, it gave the vague appearance of a very militaristic well-built skeleton. Besides several side arms and belts of grenades and ammunition, Taskmaster somehow managed to pack nearly every type of weapon one could think of: tasers, combat knives, batons, even a pair of nunchaku and a collapsed bow not unlike Hawkeye's. Most prominent though were a 3-foot broadsword and a shield similar to Captain America's, only emblazoned with an orange T and a white cross instead of the stars and stripes.
"Iso-8 powered weapons. No way he didn't get those from the same supplier as Viper," Rogers voiced the concern on everyone's mind. "If those weapons get onto the streets, SHIELD's going to have a hell of a time cleaning them up. Local law enforcement won't stand a chance."
Coulson nodded in agreement. "Since Agent Mockingbird's status has been confirmed, next priority is making sure those weapons don't leave that warehouse in anything but a SHIELD transport."
"Cap and I can crash the party as soon as you make the call, boss," said an eager Taskmaster.
Coulson hesitated, looking over all the constantly updating confirmation on the monitors in front of him. "No, not yet. For all we know, Nefaria's guards could be armed with similar weapons. It's still safer to wait for the meeting to disband and capture each Maggia head individually. It's too risky."
"You heard Coulson. No crashing the party without an invite. We wait. Romanoff and Payne, get into position, just in case."
"And what price do you ask for these futuristic weapons?" asked a still skeptical Silvermane.
"For the weapons? As many as you want, and as many as you need in the future, for free," Count Nefaria said, smiling at his perplexed colleagues. "My supplier is more than capable of meeting our every demand and specification."
"What's the catch?" Hammerhead asked with a grimace.
Count Nefaria detached the ammo drum from his test weapon and opened it for all to see. "These weapons do not use any type of ammunition you will find on any market, legal or black. They use shells crafted from depleted Isotope-8 crystals, giving them their unique properties. The weapons are free, but the ammunition comes at a steep price indeed." The Count paused for effect as he replaced the ammo drum. "I offer these gifts freely, but only to a united Maggia. No more petty turf wars or infighting. The Maggia needs a single absolute authority, a Capo dei capi, if you will."
"You wanna make yourself Godfather?! You think we're just going to stand for that?!" Hammerhead shouted, though Count Nefaria seemed unfazed by his building rage.
"I am merely doing what the Maggia should have done ages ago! None of you had the foresight or conviction to do what needed to be done! And today, I will reap the rewards for my efforts! If you accept my terms, I will allow you to continue to run your families and operations, but under my rule."
"And if we refuse?" asked Silvermane.
"Then, old friend, you shall see the full capabilities of my new arsenal firsthand, in what I promise will be a very short-lived war, and if you survive with your life, that will be all that you survive with. I am, though I hate to use a phrase that stereotypes our organization so, making an offer you can't refuse."
After the formal briefing, Rogers and Romanoff team members moved to the now expanded labs where Fitz and Simmons set up the team's research and development labs.
"What do we know about this Robbins kid?" Captain Rogers asked Fitz, who sieved through the team's intel for some information of use.
"Besides that he hangs out with a shady crowd, even for a Maggia, not much. He has a few tricks up his sleeve that we've been unable to completely quantify," the young tech expert replied.
"So... he's magic," Rogers extrapolated.
"Fury doesn't like it when we use that word," Fitz gasped as if Rogers had just uttered a swear in class. When the Captain remained unfazed by his supposed taboo, Fitz cleared his throat and continued as he reached for a nearby small SHIELD case. "Regardless, the biggest concern is him doing something like teleporting away. To that end, Fury talked to an expert in another department and managed to procure this."
Rogers opened the case to find a small, golden dart inscribed with glowing runes. "What exactly is it?"
Fitz scratched his head. "I've been studying it for hours using every noninvasive analysis technique I know, and... other than a glowy dart, I have no idea. But supposedly it disrupts mag... er, 'certain unquantifiable forces' should he try to escape in that fashion. Just make sure it actually hits him."
Rogers nodded as he turned to the other field agent present. "Romanoff, your number one priority is delivering this. You only have one shot, so make it count."
A slender shadow slipped between the spaces left by the Maggia guards. Especially once the meeting had started, their attention was focused on the Count's speech. For an infiltration specialist like the Black Widow, moving through the warehouse was child's play. Seeing a shortcut to her destination, she almost grabbed a Maggia guard from behind to snap his neck. But she remembered her orders, and let them override her natural instinct. Besides, while Stephen was a soldier, he was sure not to approve of unnecessary deaths, even if it made the job more difficult.
Getting close to her target was easier said than done. The upper levels of the warehouse were crawling with Nefaria's men, but they could easily be avoided. On the ground floor, however, three separate contingents of men guarding the Maggia bosses, and keeping a paranoid eye on their surroundings, meant she had to take things slowly. She couldn't even respond over the comms without risking giving away her position. She had to hope that Coulson was still able to trace her movements from the Quinjet and that he'd coordinate the attack successfully.
Fortunately, the poorly lit warehouse cast a lot of pitch-black shadows, and the undersides of the catwalks had just enough support beams for Black Widow to find handholds and traverse her route unseen, sometimes directly over the heads of the Maggia. It would have been simple to take out Silvermane here and now. Hammerhead might have been more difficult given his unique anatomy. But either one was currently off-limits. That’s wasn't the mission plan.
A loud bang stopped her in her tracks, fearing she or someone else on her team might have been discovered.
A shot rang out. Count Nefaria's head recoiled violently back. His entire body was thrown off its feet as he fell to the ground.
All of the Maggia guards from every faction had instantly drawn their various weapons in defense of their respective leaders. Everyone quickly turned to the smoking gun, resting in the hand of Parker Robbins, the Hood. "Consider your offer refused," he said with a smug smile.
As he lowered his weapon, the rest of the room trained theirs on him. The Hood's personal guard tried to cover their boss, but they were surrounded from all angles and were just as surprised as the rest of the room. "What?" Robbins shrugged. "You heard the man. He intended to strong-arm us out of our own gangs. I did not go through everything I did just to relinquish the power I earned to some old, delusional relic."
"EARNED?!" an unexpected voice stopped the Hood's swagger. The body of Count Nefaria levitated upright from the floor. Instead of a gaping bullet wound between two lifeless eyes as Hood expected, the bullet was simply embedded in the skin, failing to pierce it as the enraged Count locked eyes with Hood. "Just WHAT have you EARNED, BOY?!"
"The hell?!" Even Robbins, who had seen things no man ever should, could not discern the figure before him. It was the same shape as the old, Italian diva he had perceived the Count as, but this creature was overflowing with power and rage. He instinctively raised his pistol again, but in the blink of an eye, Count Nefaria glided across the room in a blur, his feet hovering inches above the floor.
The Count slapped the gun out of Robbins's hand before he could fire again. In the same swift movement, Nefaria's hand wrapped around Robbins's throat. The Hood's cape flared up and glowed with power, trying to wrap around Nefaria and dislodge him from its master. But as it made contact, the very dark energies that emanated from the Hood's cloak started to be absorbed into Nefaria's body. Eventually the cape went limp, becoming nothing more than a tattered old rag.
"But... how?! I'm... the king... of this city..." Robbins gasped for air.
"KING?! YOU?! YOU are NOTHING but a BRAT off the STREET! You have NO WORTH in YOUR BLOOD! Not of the MAGGIA, and CERTAINLY not any worth calling KING! YOU! ARE! TRASH!" By the end, Count Nefaria was slamming Robbins into the concrete wall, not even his own guard daring to stand in the way of the enraged Count. Even Hammerhead and Silvermane watched in horror, both wondering how they had never seen this anger or this power from the Count in the past.
"Coulson, if we don't act now, we'll have one less Maggia head to take into custody. Literally," Captain America said grimly.
"Right," Coulson acknowledged while he assessed the situation. "Nefaria confirmed himself that none of the other weapons are armed yet. Be careful though. SHIELD intel doesn't have anything on Count Nefaria having powers. Time to crash the party," Coulson said as he tightened his seat restraints.
Captain America nodded. "Carol, keep us steady. As soon and Taskmaster and I get clear, swoop around and give us some air support."
"Roger that, Rogers," their pilot saluted as she opened the hatch. Wind swirled about the cabin from the pressure change as Captain America and Taskmaster prepared to jump.
No parachutes. No cables. Captain America crashed through the skylight shield first and landed on one of the top catwalks. Following shortly behind him was Agent Masters, following his every movement, though Masters needed some shock absorbers in his boots to avoid injuring his legs.
Standing back to back with weapons drawn and shields on guard, Captain America stared down what basically amounted to the entire heavily armed Maggia. With absolute confidence, Captain America called out, "Agents of SHIELD! You're all under arrest!"
To Be Continued...