Maria and Rhodey
By the time the Presidential Rep had finished talked to Fury, everything on the deck was as Maria would have it; Galaga was even doing his actual work and not playing a hacked video game, for once. They had a drone in the air and another being prepped, and agents were working on collecting and analyzing the information being gathered. How hard could it be to find something really big and green and usually creating a mile-wide path of destruction?
There was a noise behind her, and she glanced up in time to see the door to the Situation Room open and the Rep step out. Right about that time, she got the incoming communication, which spelled out exactly what her duties would be in relationship to said Reps. She had a moment to be grumpy about the fact that she apparently wasn't allowed to boot their asses off her ship immediately, and then she glanced over at the Rep in question, and had bigger problems.
Well. Hell. She met the gaze of Stark's head of security levelly, watching as he crossed the deck and approached. And this was what happened when covers ran head-into real life, and why they tried to prevent that from occurring if at all possible. Still, it had happened, and she was the Deputy Director, he was the Presidential Rep on her ship; she was in command, and he was not. She'd deal with it.
He stepped up next to her, and she couldn't help lift her chin a little as she looked over the bridge, eyes flicking momentarily to the clear screens surrounding the command platform. "I'm a Marine," she told him, all the explanation she'd give: of course she ran a tight ship, and she'd been born and made for this.
She glanced over at him, cool and flatly assessing. "My rank is Deputy Director, and you will address me as such or as Agent Hill. I'll see what can be arranged."