2014.02.06 - A Bigger Perch

Black Canary felt alien to her own life sometimes. Despite her vast network of friends, recent events had made her feel more and more like having connections was just as much of a liability as a strength. But, she knew regret was useless.
She spent the morning hidden... perched up on the roof of her own apartment. She reviewed her notes and research she'd been gathering, both on personal matters, and recent discoveries in Gotham. Her newly carved 'friendship' with Tony Stark had been astoundingly helpful--almost too helpful. The man was connected. 
Dinah looked down to the street below, remembering how her place had recently been broken into without her knowledge. She was humoring the idea that being up on the roof was some enhanced safety. Whoever this was was going to work quietly--they weren't revealing themselves.
Then, quite suddenly, the opposite of 'quiet' happened. A small aircraft, with a roaring engine, had darted into sight. At first Dinah just watched it curiously, but her eyes shot-up alertly as it halted its path, hovering overhead her flower shop. Hot damn... this was for her! A panel door slid open from the bottom of the ship, followed by a ladder, and a man's head. He appeared to be wearing some sort of military jumpsuit, and shouted down to her.
"Miss Dinah Laurel Lance... I am Agent Canton of S.H.I.E.L.D. Nick Fury has requested a meeting with you!"
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Dinah sat alone in a conference room for fifteen minutes. The place looked like an entrance way more than a comfortable, isolated spot. Like a waiting room. Numerous control panels were flush against the walls--they looked like media devices. Dinah tapped her fingers against the table.
	The smell of Nick's cigar can be noticed even before Nick himself enters the room. The clop of his boots echo in the sterile hallway as well for a brief moment before the man turns the corner and comes into the room. He is dressed in the S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, but wears his long leather bridge coat too. There is still a bit of melting snow on his shoulders and in his salt and pepper hair. He has his cigar firmly clenched between his teeth, puffing it as he stops and looks over the "guest". He has a pair of thin folders in his hands. 
	"Miss Dinah Lance I presume," he says after a moment's pause. His voice is rough from smoking and lifestyle. "Thank you for accepting the invitation. I'm Director Fury. Thought it was about time we had a meeting."
Naturally, Leopold Fitz had scoured what information that had been made available to him. Plasma based weapons, multi-functional aspects including bombs and other incendiary applications? It was right up his alley. Jemma Simmons, however, seems to have taken a much heavier interest in the person set to deliver these weapons. It's fortunate that they've been holed up in their lab until the last minute, for the excited, nervous banter back and forth has been nothing short of ridiculous on so many levels.
Gathering their things, the two Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. made hastily for the conference room, stuffing micro-electrometers and genetic forensics materials, just to name a few, into a pair of satchels. However, in a hallway around the corner, Fitz pulls Simmons to a halt.
"Wait, wait, wait. Simmons."
"Fitz, we're going to be late!"
"We're about to meet Director Fury," Fitz insists. "We can't just go waltzing in there towing half the lab with us!" He turned around and started keying a series of codes into a wall panel. When it unseals itself, he starts stuffing things away into a concealed storage compartment, only retaining a handful of tools that are quickly enclosed into a far more official-looking briefcase, complete with the agency's emblem.
"There." Fitz pops up with a smile. "Much better!"
"COME ON." Simmons grabs Fitz by the arm and pulls him along, headed for the conference room at a rapid hustle.
Dinah's gaze shot up to catch eyes with Nick. "Mr. Fury. This ship is massive. When do you start your invasion of Earth?" she said jokingly, with a smirk. She was nervous about this meeting, but didn't want to project that. She knew this had (at least somewhat) to do with the weapons that she'd left with Tony last week.
Standing up, offering her hand to shake, she tried to assess what she could from him. Gruff, direct. Old world, even amongst all the technology. She gave him a smile: "To be honest, I didn't expect you to bring me in over the 'devices' I found. Thought I was just the worker bee," she said dismissively.
	"It's Colonel, actually," Nick says with a nod as he takes her hand and shakes it. "Worker bees have their spot too, Miss Lance." He pauses as he hears the footsteps of FitzSimmons coming rapidly towards them. "We all have a role to play after all." He gestures towards a seat at the conference table in the room. "Take a seat if you like. I requested a couple more operatives to join us for a briefing on just what it is you found hiding out there in Gotham." He moves to take a seat setting the two folders down on the table in front of him as he does.
Dinah gave a quick nod to Nick's words, and sat as directed, picking a central position in the room. After sitting, she half-jokingly corrects herself, while straightening her jacket. 
"Colonel. If this involves S.H.I.E.L.D. getting involved in Gotham crime, that'd be pretty exciting. It's rough out there," Dinah says, still trying to probe the reasoning behind her summoning.
	Fury shakes his head as he regards Dinah after glancing over the now open folders in front of him. "No. S.H.I.E.L.D. does not handle municipal problems otherwise we would have every city in the country clamoring for us." He takes the cigar out of his mouth and looks about realizing that no one brought an ashtray into the conference room. Almost growling under his breath, he stands up and moves to the door. 
	"Can I get an ashtray in here?" He sounds annoyed that he even has to ask. "And two cups of coffee too. Not the PX brand crap either." The scrambling of feet can be heard in the hallway as Nick comes back to the table. He sits once more and leans back slightly in the chair. "What caught S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attention was the level of sophistication about these weapons. Not the standard issue for the kind of crooks you have in Gotham." He says the last with confidence so that all can know that S.H.I.E.L.D. has indeed been watching Gotham for a time. He glances at his watch as an aid comes in hurriedly dropping off an ashtray and two cups of coffee with creamer and sugar packets. Fury nods in acknowledgement. "Thank you, and find out where the hell are my experts."
"The mobster grunts that were holding these... we caught them saying it was just in transit. 'Just a few hours.' My t--" Dinah quickly corrected herself mid-sentence "--I think I was just lucky. Discovered the site during a short window. It was meant for someone else. It would've been fortuitous to find out who the receiver was, but they were notified of my arrival." After a quick pause, Dinah looked through the one visible window--the glass door to the room--and out into some of the agents scurrying about.
"Pardon my ignorance, but JLA hasn't gotten a lot of intel on S.H.I.E.L.D. over the years." At least not at her access level. "I know this is going to sound obnoxious, but what does S.H.I.E.L.D. do? As much as I can tell, you run a near-invisible operation." her tone was sincere, but the words were possibly baiting him.
	"S.H.I.E.L.D. catches what falls through the cracks, Miss Lance." Nick flips a page in the folder and Dinah can see a picture of herself in the pages as well as a few surveillance photos and news paper photos. "Bit of law enforcement, bit of intelligence, bit of investigating what hasn't popped up on your radar. The fact that you don't know a lot about us tells me that we are doing our jobs well." He looks over the other file and it is an inventory of the weapons confiscated. "Good timing then. So how much did you get about the supplier or the customer from the guys sitting there baby sitting the hardware?"
As it turns out. Fitz and Simmons got, shall we say, turned around. They may be a collective scientific genius, but sometimes, basic directions are difficult. As it is, when they finally find the conference room, they can be spotted hastily slowing their steps from a virtual run to a slower, measured pace.
Fitz opens the door, his face already red and his mouth ajar, but Simmons cuts off anything he was about to say.
"Director Fury! Please, please accept our apologies for being so tardy!"
"We um--" Fitz looks to Simmons.
"--got separated."
"At the B-11 junction." Fitz reaches up to scratch at the back of his head, his face growing redder still.
Simmons, however, looks over toward Dinah, recognition quickly setting in. She takes a step forward, smiling brightly. "Hello, I'm Simmons, Agent Jemma Simmons. It's such a pleasure to meet you. Face to face!" There's a virtual fan-girl vibe emanating from her in an almost sickly exasperation. She bites her lip, glances to Fitz, who's simply... staring at Simmons, mouth still ajar.
"It was a crazy few minutes--a fight broke out. One of the men dropped a phone, which an 'associate' of mine tapped into--their contact was at the Gotham airport. Video surveillance there didn't result in much--just a sunglasses 'n trenched male. Kind of a dead-end. I--"
Dinah was then cut-off by the arrival of Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons: the two brought a curious, eyebrow quirk to her face. She stood up briefly to shake Jemma's hand, smiling slightly. "Thanks," she said with a hint of awkwardness, "I take it you're the two investigating those crazy plasma cells?"
	Nick turns as the two enter and just fixes his one good eye on them for a few moments before speaking. "B-11," he says in a drawn out manner as he gets a measure of these two. "Remind me to get you two a map and a guide after the meeting." He gestures towards seats at the table. "You are my weapons experts that I requested. I am told you two are some of the best. So tell me just what Miss Lance found."
Summarily hushed, both technicians take a seat at the table. It takes a lot to shut Jemma Simmons up, and Nick Fury just did that.
"Yes, Director," said Fitz uncomfortably.
"Of course, Director," added Simmons.
Prompted, Fitz leans forward, fixing his eyes between Fury and Dinah. "Well, the multiple components are clearly designed for a quick disassemble-reassembly package, meaning these babies were designed to be used on the fly, by professionals. Merc types, I suspect, who need to get in quiet, set up, do whatever dirty business they need, and get out quick with hardware in tow."
Simmons interjects. "We've only had tertiary information to review."
"Aye, would be nice to get our hands on them," agrees Fitz. "Only way to see the nitty gritty details."
"I did notice, however, that one particular model is operated by a micro-fingerprint template." Simmons looks from Dinah to Fury, then over to Fitz. "Extremely sophisticated. That weapon can only be activated by one user. One set of fingerprints."
"Yeah, unless you remove someone's hand and use that to--"
Jemma shakes her head. "No, it registers residual skin heat and human static electric discharge." She looks at Fitz with utter disbelief that he would even suggest such a thing. "You can't activate this gun with a severed hand, Fitz."
Fitz sighs quietly at Simmons, before looking back between the Director and Black Canary. "It's the plasma mechanics that have got me most interested. This kind of technology is extremely sophisticated. We're not just talking about the damage they can do, we're also talking about the mechanics. Power regulation, the ability to create multiple munitions and a variable sphere of effective area..." He shakes his head. "It's.. astounding, to be honest."
Dinah takes a worried breath as Fitz & Simmons detail the capabilities of the weapons. "Is there a way to..." Dinah paused in a quick breath--technology was note her forte, but she was going to dive in anyway. "...reverse-engineer the print register? Having that on file might help with making a match--even if not now, in the future."
Her worried face turned to Nick. "I don't want people with weapons like this out on the streets. It's hard enough. You don't know what a typical day for someone like Green Arrow or Batwoman is like--but every day is life or death. They don't have nice little offices and labs to poke around in," Dinah said--while she was concerned for her friends, some arrogance showed.
	Nick is quiet while the two techies go through their report. He puffs on his cigar and taps the ashes out into the ashtray as they finish. He glances over at Dinah as she asks the question and then back to Fitz and Simmons. "What does something like this cost? Your average gangster, probably not even your top level gangsters, could get their hands on equipment like this. Do we have anything on record of similar designs? Sort of an artist signature perhaps with patterns of their work." He nods towards Dinah. "I've been out in the trenches before. I know what it is like."
The question Dinah proposes draws a knowing grin to the face of Leopold Fitz. He leans back in his seat, glancing between Fury and Jemma for a moment, before turning back to Dinah. "We can probably have a fingerprint match drawn up in a few hours." It seems that he feels comfortable speaking for Simmons, not to mention confident in his ability to reverse-engineer the tech.
All the while, Jemma Simmons is just smiling away. Aside from nodding her head in agreement with Fitz, she's trying awfully hard not to be put off by that cigar.
"Well..." Fitz reaches down, pulls the briefcase, and sets it on the table. "Your average gangster? Not a chance. The price tag on this is well beyond their pay grade. Most super-national militaries aren't sporting this kind of hardware. It's just... too expensive to produce.
Fitz opens the briefcase, withdrawing something that resembles a StarkPad. He closes the briefcase, sets the tablet on top, and pulls holographic images into the air with his bare hands. Not a StarkPad... a holo-tablet. "Let me see if I can identify a signature," he murmurs, while flipping through files, pictures, glyphs, and datafiles in rapid fire motions of hand and eye.
Dinah responds to Nick with a respectful shift in tone. "No disrespect intended, Colonel. I--I guess I'm just trying to say that if you're going after the manufacturer or buyer--I don't know your policies on working with outsiders... but I want to help. You know my background. I can handle this. Hell, I could probably fly this carrier," Dinah chirped in, trying to sell herself to the task.
Dinah listened to Fitz' response to the pricing. "So, if these are too expensive for foot soldiers... does that mean they're meant for a bigger target?" she asked curiously.
	"I know you can handle quite a bit, Miss Lance. We know you applied for travel visas to Genosha this week. That place is just crawling with all manner. And you got us this intel... I am not leaving you out in the cold, but it will be under my terms." Nick gestures with the cigar as he talks perhaps swinging it a little closer to Simmons than anyone else. Good to keep folks a little uncomfortable otherwise, they may think they can stretch a truth or exaggerate themselves into a job. He looks back at the pad and scematics that Fitz is manipulating. "My gut is telling me that this would be a one time deal. A one shot since once someone uses tech like this, it would light up the boards like the fourth of July. They just want to make sure whatever or whoever the target is, they stay down with everyone knowing who it is that can command weapons like this."
"Miss Lance," says Simmons, shifting in her chair to fix Dinah with a pleasant expression. It seems the blatant fan-girl aura was short-lived. She is, after all, a professional. "There are many people who aren't affected by conventional weapons. We have records of people being impervious to bullets, faster than knives, able to telepathically push them away before they can even strike."
Fitz nods his agreement. "If I were to take a wild guess, I'd say these weapons are designed to engage meta- and super-human targets. I mean, almost every sovereign military force has avi-delivered munitions far more powerful than these. You don't develop a weapon like this unless a traditional assault rifle won't do the trick The multiple-settings also suggest they're designed to be able to handle multiple targets."
"Or," adds Simmons, "a wide range of targets, from large to small, fast to invisible."
Fitz hooks his eyebrow at Fury when he mentions Genosha, but otherwise doesn't remark on it. "Or," he contradicts the Director, "It could be a special weapon, designed for a special person, and he's the only one allowed to use it. Ah! Here we are." He zooms in on a particular file, rotating it about so that Fury can see. "It says... 'The Fixer'. Ring a bell?" He looks between the others, apparently at a loss.
Jemma's eyelids flutter at Fury's cigar, but she remains pleasantly silent.
Dinah's gaze locked onto Fitz when he name-dropped The Fixer. "Tony Stark had mentioned him as a suspect," she said, "But he's a freelance inventor--not so much of a killer, and unknown whereabouts. The JLA database has almost nothing on him. The original crates that had these weapons--well, you probably saw, they passed through numerous countries undetected, stopping for longer durations in Turkey and Japan. Do we have any better origin leads than what someone can get from reading the label?"
	"Fixer doesn't really get his hands dirty if he can help it. Been having trouble getting enough evidence to pin directly to him and take him down." Nick runs his fingers over the papers in front of him. "I have some folks running down the shipments origins as well as the Turkish and Japanese connections. Probably be a little time as I wanted boots on the ground and not just skimming through computers." He sits back and looks at Fitz. "Perhaps, but Gotham isn't the sort of place that has a ton of metas running around in it. The target for such a weapon wouldn't be in Gotham if it was designed to go after a meta. If the weapon is for a meta to use in Gotham, again, we come back to an attack that will get a lot of attention instantly. A warning, an announcement, and a threat rolled into one action."
Fitz considers the Director's words carefully. "What if Gotham is just a distraction?" he muses aloud. "Or a place to do some practice?" He shakes his head. "What if 'The Fixer' was being forced to develop these weapons by someone else?" It's a lot to consider.
"There might be trace genetic imprints left behind, if any of the handlers touched the parts with exposed skin," says Jemma, acknowledging Dinah's questions.
"We can check every piece of metal to trace its whereabouts, find out where the parts were sourced," adds Fitz with a nod.
"Might be able to draw together some patterns."
"Come up with some names or places." Fitz leans forward after swiping the holographic images away, though he pulls the 'file' aside so that it can be tabbed for Director Fury's review. "Director, I'd like to have full access to these weapons, with Agent Simmons. We can have a full workup within 24 hours for you."
Nick Fury's ominous warning about some large-scale terrorist attack in Gotham made a clear impact on Dinah's nerves, and her face tightens into a more serious expression than she's had thus far in the meeting. She wonders momentarily what Oracle could do with this new information, but holds the thought.
"Boots on the ground is exactly what I do," she says with an insistence. "*That* is why I'm going to Genosha--because Magneto is trying to make deals with The Justice League, and it's about time SOMEONE confirmed the accusations of human rights violations there!" Fresh from her visit to The Xavier Institute, the fervor in her voice sounded a bit raw. Realizing she might be acting a bit like a brute, she rested back in her chair to calm herself. She was still trying to sell her place here--there was no way she was going to let herself get pushed out of the loop if some serious shit was about to go down in Gotham City. Shifting gears, she gave an quick, surprisingly meekish smile over to Fitz & Simmons, perhaps as an acknowledgement of her over-zealous outburst. "These two ask a lot of questions. They're the right people for the job," she said encouragingly.
	"Granted," Nick says with a nod to Fitz. "I will expect the report then within 24 hours." He begins to stand up, colleting his papers along the table. "Miss Lance, I will have someone return you to Gotham. I will get an agent into Gotham to assist you and follow up with me. You will be working with S.H.I.E.L.D. on this so I do expect full disclosure with what you find." He taps the papers and folders on the table and begins to head out of the room. "Good day," he says to all in general.
When Dinah mentions that Magneto is making political moves with the JLA, there's a reaction from each scientist.
"Wot!?" asks Fitz.
"He can't be serious," breathes Simmons.
As if suddenly realizing that it was not their place to postulate, Fitz and Simmons look at each other knowingly, then immediately silence themselves on the matter. It's just in time to receive the compliment from Dinah, which draws a surprised raising of the eyebrows from Fitz, and an absolutely ferocious blushing from Simmons. "That's... that's quite kind, Miss Lance," she says, meekishly.
The two follow Fury's lead, quickly collecting their things and following in his footsteps.
"Good day, Miss Lance!" says Simmons.
"Aye, G'day," adds Fitz. "And Godspeed."
She's gonna need it.
Category:Log