2012-08-08 The Agent And The Hero

For Rhodey, there's something special about landing a helicopter on a helicarrier. Though it seems like (and is) an intuitive process, it thrills him in a small child's way, like unwrapping a new toy on Christmas morning.
Though most of his body has been replaced by vibranium prosthetics, they're just as agile as their human counterparts. In many ways they are superior. Better linked to his brain. More responsive. When he guides in his MH-6 Little Bird rotorcraft and lands it in one of the hanger bays, it's obvious that an expert pilot with a deft touch is at the controls.
As he dismounts his helicopter, Rhodey pulls an S-Phone from a slot in the chopper's console and slides it into a slot in his cybernetic arm. "PATTON," he says, bringing the AI online. "Wake up. But keep your voice down. Standby mode and passive scans only. We're guests here."
Visitors are not common on the Helicarrier but this time there have been arrangements made to give the war veteran a tour, most likely something set up between Tony Stark and Fury. It is something Agent 13 was all too happy to volunteer to help with. An offer to show Rhodes around was happily accepted by the Director who told her to keep Jim happy and show him around while not going as far as to show him 'everything'. In other words, no showing off the areas that requires clearance.
When the copter lands he's greeted by the blonde and a small group of SHIELD members, the latter coming to attention and saluting while Sharon rushes forward to meet him on the flight deck. "Sir. It is a pleasure meeting you. I am Sharon Carter, SHIELD agent. I will be your escort."
The retired officer almost smiles. Almost. He brings one hand to his brow in a crisp salute, addressing the assembled officers and returning their sign of respect. Then, less formally, he offers a hand to Sharon. "The pleasure is mine, Agent Carter. I appreciate you liaising with me. As often as I've worked with SHIELD, I've never been aboard the carrier."
It's no lie. His good eye twinkles merrily as he observes his surroundings. His glowing cybernetic eye moves independently, recording sights and images in far greater detail. He's dressed modestly. A spotless civilian flight suit with a tag that reads 'RHODES' above his breast pocket. Spit-shined boots. Dog tags dangle at his neck, but he sports no other rank or insignia.
A discrete signal is given to those assembled, dismissing them with a wave of a hand that's slipped behind her back while the other is placed in Jim's. Her grip's strong. Not quite masculine but almost. "I do hope that it will meet with your approval, Colonel."
Now just the two of them, Sharon turns towards one of the entry ways, motioning politely towards it. "There are certain places that will be off limits but there is still a lot to see even then so if we may, sir, it probably is a good idea to get started." As she speaks one of the numerous aircraft powers up for take-off, making her have to yell by the time she's done making her suggestion.
Rhodey's hand is hard. Cold and unyielding. He manages it well, though, shaking Sharon's with the grace of a politician or a casino host.
"Of course," he replies, also raising his voice to be heard above the sound of a turbine engine. When they step out of the hanger and the door seals behind them, he's still borderline shouting. He coughs a bit sheepishly into his fist, lowers his voice, and continues. "This isn't an official inspection, Agent. Technically, I'm no longer an officer. Now that I've been rebuilt and I'm back in town, I just wanted to pay my respects to Nick and see if there's anything I can do to help out."
She understands the reason he's here, or at least she understands Fury's reason for Rhodey being here, but even with having prior knowledge as to what this visit's about she can not help but to treat it as if it were. "I understand, Colonel. But..." A slight pink creeps to her face. "It's not everyday we get to meet a war hero. Cap and now you..." Her eyes lower as she chuckle. "Forgive me if I act the fangirl, sir."
A lift looms before them, form following function. There's nothing beautiful about it, no carpet or fancy lighting, it instead all metal and gleaming surfaces. "Where would you like to go first," she asks, more than happy to let Jim make suggestions.
Jim lets out a low, rolling chuckle and shakes his head. "I'm no hero, Agent. I'm a soldier, just the same as you. I hope you don't mind, but I had PATTON do a workup on you when I saw your name in my itinerary. You've had your share of heroic moments."
When they reach the lift, he taps the side of his head meaningfully. "Mind taking me to the armory? I have a partial schematic for an energy weapon I scanned in San Diablo a few days ago. I want to hand it off to your R&D team."
To have her praise turned down would have been fine but to then have it turned around on her like Jim did visibly flusters her a bit, causing Sharon to stutter. "Th-thank you, sir. But like y-you, I am just doing my job. I am proud to serve."
When they enter the elevator she pushes the button for the appropiate floor, allowing herself some time to think. "I am sure Fury will be happy to know you came bearing gifts, Colonel," she eventually says, her eyes brightening. Probably trying to imagine just what kind of weapon Rhodes might be offering to share and wondering if she'll be allowed to play with it.
"Good, Agent," Rhodey replies, clasping his hands together loosely at the small of his back. "We should all be proud to serve. Making the world a better place can be a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it."
Now he really is smiling, an expression that's a bit odd when matched with his glowing eye and the exposed metal plates that surround it. "Care to give me the unofficial briefing while we take care of our tour? I've been in a hospital in Dubai for months. I'm sure the world has changed. Don't tell me. The economy is booming, terrorism is at an all-time low, and the Cubs won the last World Series."
13 smiles as she watches the floor indicator light up the various numbers as the elevator descends, her expression relaxing now that the initial impressions have been made by them both. She had thought of Rhodes as someone larger than life, not unlike she first thought of Captain America, a man of legend who should be treated as such. But here Jim is, as regular of a guy as everyone else else.
"I believe it was the Cards who won," she says, her gaze darting towards the man, looking him as fully in the eye as she can while standing beside him. "Let's see. Lots to talk about. Bad weather this year... lots of violence. Not just in other countries but our own..." The breakdown of 'recent events' stops as a ding sounds and the doors slide open. "This is our floor."
"Yes. Violence. PATTON briefed me on your recent break-in, among other things. I don't imagine Nick was very happy when his data got stolen." Rhodey pauses before exiting the lift, giving Sharon a thorough once-over. "You appear none the worse for wear. Don't worry, Agent. Some days you eat the bear, some days the bear eats you."
There's no judgment in his tone. Lord knows that Rhodey has let a target or two slip through his fingers. Sometimes purposely.
When they reach the armory, Jim pulls his credentials from an inner pocket and flashes them to any and all concerned agents. "I'm going to need a terminal," he requests. "Anything will do, as long as it has mainframe access."
"I think I can say for certain that I wish it was a bear that I got hit by," comes the easy response. Sharon falls back, allowing for their guest to approach the guards who look surprise that they have an unexpected visitor. One looks around him to Sharon who nods. "I'll vouch for him," she says with a wry grin. Must be good enough as Rhodes' allowed access.
R&D is impressive even on the Helicarrier, more than big enough to have whatever computer might be needed for the transferring of the information.
Rhodes drops down into a seat at the first available cubicle without any pomp or circumstance. Rather than use the keyboard or mouse, he reaches a gleaming hand toward the duty station's central unit. A thin, flexible tentacle snakes out from just behind the base of his palm and slithers questingly toward the control panel. When it finds a USB slot, it flattens into the appropriate configuration and slots itself into place.
"This'll take a moment," Jim says by way of explaination. "Now seems as good a time as any to file my official report. Lots of raw sensor data to upload. I'll make you a deal while we wait. I'll answer a question for you if you'll answer one for me. Deal?"
Oh. That's... not what she expected. The long appendage gets stared at as it moves and then is reconfigured to fit within the port, all things that strikes Sharon as being something that one might see in a sci-fi movie. There's a span of time that passes, bordering on rude, but Jim's voice snaps her out of her shock-induced stupor and she repositions herself so she can look at him and not the metallic limb while he does his thing.
"Ah. I think I can do that, Colonel. Let me think." Sharon shifts, parking her backside on the edge of the desk, legs now outstretched. "Okay. Now, I'm sure this is one you have been asked a lot. And if you don't want to answer it you can say 'eff off, Thirteen' and I'll count that, alright?" Chewing her lower lip, she thinks, considers how to ask it before shrugging and coming out with it. "How did it happen, sir?"
"I took on a contract as a civilian test pilot in Dubai. There was a terrorist attack. I used my prototype jet to intercept an anti-aircraft missile intended for a commercial airliner." Rhodey isn't exactly toneless or flat. There's emotion in his voice, but no more than that of a soldier reporting on a tactical engagement. "Lost more than half of my organic tissue. Tony Stark built this body for me. It's not so bad. I can shoot lasers from my eye. Plus, my new heart is powerful enough to run a tank. How many people can say that?"
Sharon listens to that, whatever reaction she might have to Rhodey's story held carefully in check. The only response there is to be seen is the tightening at the corner of each eye as they narrow in a slight wince. "I am sorry," she whispers, looking at the Colonel fully when she does. Her face is still rather expressionless at the moment but while her features are not allowed to convey whatever she might be feeling now her voice does, it hitching slightly as if she might cry.
Rhodey fixes both his eyes on Sharon, the cybernetic one tracking a fraction of a second faster than the organic one. "Don't feel sorry for me, Agent. I did what had to be done. I'm still upright and sucking air. Well... I breathe, but it's mostly to maintain the human illusion, and so I have breath to speak with."
The retired colonel glances up at his nervous companion and gives her a smile to dispel any tension. "How about you? Why did you join up? And don't say 'to make the world a better place' because that's the answer we all give during our psych evals."
A passing scientist stops for a second and gives Rhodey an appraising glance, the former soldier given a looking over before he leaves. That has Sharon a bit bemused and quick to shake her head. "That has to get tiresome, I bet," she grunts, forgetting that they're playing a 'game' for the time it takes her to say that and brush off her momentary bout of annoyance.
The question directed to her is answered quickly, that being something she does not need to think about. "My great-aunt Peggy was a SHIELD agent for a time, this being back when it was first established. I wanted to follow in her footsteps." A hand is waved before her in self-indication. "They allow me to use the same codename Aunt Peggy did when she served."
When his upload is complete, Rhodey tugs his interface tentacle free and retracts it with a WHIZZ of metal grating against metal. "The examinations are something I encounter constantly, it's true." He shrugs and swivels in his chair, but doesn't immediately stand. "It is what it is. Hmm. Agent 13. I thought I recognized that code-in. PATTON, give me a side-by-side on the HUD."
It's not quite reading and it's not quite the same as having information uploaded directly into his brain. However he processes, he does it quickly. "Well, from what I'm seeing here, you do the codename justice. Congratulations. I know what it's like to have a big name to live up to."
Though he's not currently wearing his armor, the names 'Jim Rhodes' and 'War Machine' have grown inextricably intertwined. Big shoes, indeed.
"It is what it is," 13 echoes before shaking her head. "I think that'd drive me insane. If I were in your place and being constantly gawked at, I mean." A hand is brought up and is used to cup her chin, the elbow of that arm braced against the other as it's drawn about her body. "How do you keep it from getting to you?"
At Rhodey's last she merely nods at first, smiling slightly. It is a big name to live up to and she strives to do right by it, wanting to honor her aunt which is so important to her. "I am just glad to be given the chance to do so," she manages to say despite the welling of emotion.
"It's not always easy," Rhodey replies, his voice low and grating. He pauses and clears his throat. "But I make do. I try to think more about what I've gained than what I've lost."
It's a completely human moment. A vulnerable one, even. Then he blinks and he's a stoic soldier once again. "I imagine I'll either get used to them, or they'll get used to me," he chuckles.
The Colonel is reached for and touched if allowed, Sharon seeking to comfort him even though they only just met. The gesture is paired with a faint frown from her, perhaps somehow understanding despite her having not experienced what Jim has been through. "You are a very brave man, Colonel. And I am sure everything will work out."
Getting to her feet again, Sharon looks around, her eyes yet again scrunched minutely. "Well, if you're done here and would like to continue with the twenty-five cent tour..."
Rhodey nods agreeably. "Yes, yes. Show me this helicarrier of yours, Agent. It's very impressive."
As they head back toward the lift, the Agent and the Colonel make more smalltalk, but it's more than that. Rather than liaison and liaised, they are comrades in arms.
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