Dr. Hank McCoy (furrybluefriend) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2014-06-17 11:22:00 |
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It was perhaps bizarre to feel a respite from the news on Captain America and the massive changes in SHIELD's infrastructure from inside the belly of the beast. But while America gaped at CNN, SHIELD kept its head down moving forward. So it was easier here. The Hub had become a bit of a time vortex, blissfully silent from the fear and obsession permeating the news lately. So it was hard to say how long he had been working since some the message had come across his computer screen, freezing him out of somewhat mundane inventory entry. Hank had pressed at it, in attempting to clear it, and found it decrypting. But the message had lit a fire within him. He knew what HYDRA was. They had been in SHIELD this spring and Agent Sitwell had stolen R&D's data to keep it in SHIELD's hands (at least, Hank hoped). And more, there were countless references to the organization and its roots in the SHIELD employee training manual. Hank knew--he had read the entire thing, even if it was a bit technical for his tastes. Agent Sitwell was not here to protect SHIELD's research. But Hank was. He had left the computer and gone to his notebooks, ripping out the sheets giving locations of precious tubes of samples. From there he went to the cryotank and freezer. To take the samples would undoubtedly destroy them in transit, and if not, they were liable to be found if he was searched. But the glory of a wall sized freezer stuffed with dozens of boxes holding hundreds of tubes, was a disorganization would serve nearly as well. Hank was engrossed in moving tubes, switching lids, and making new annotations, that he didn't notice the change in air pressure as the doors across the lab rushed open. Thanks to the intel discussed with Agents' Blake and Sitwell, Victoria Hand had been prepared for this day. Sitwell was a touchy subject, and the mere thought turned her normally cold and precise demeanor into something more akin to the Antarctic. She had no patience, no time, and no manpower. Her entire plan hinged on a single gambit. With Agents Chaimson and Jacobson behind her, the only two she could completely count on, she stalked into one of R&D's main labs where she knew the blue-haired Hank McCoy would be hunkered down with samples and his data. She'd once asked him to talk only to her on a project. Victoria refused to play favorites, which often labeled her as unfriendly or a bitch. They were reputations that she admired; it meant she was doing her job correctly. Victoria motioned for Chaimson and Jacobson to move into position as she reached down and took one of the extra weapons from Jacobson's belt. Behind them, on the other side of the door, gunshots and screams could be heard. Pandora herself couldn't have asked for a better turn out from this box. "There's good news and bad news. Which do you want first, Agent McCoy?" He supposed if anyone were to barge into his lab, Victoria Hand was among the people he would be most willing to excuse. And least likely to suspect of being HYDRA, if that was what the message had meant. But the air was tense and not just from the ambient noise that seemed more horror film than science lab or the klaxons and emergency lighting in the halls. He didn't really want anyone here until he was done. He flattened his ears and firmly pushed the lid on the box he had been working on, now equal parts buffers and DNA extracts. Hank glanced up, letting his golden eyes fix on the woman and the men at her back. They were armed. By all rights, as a field cleared agents, he should be too, Hank thought guiltily towards his satchel sitting on a stool across the room, but slid the box into the rack. His weight shifted to the balls of his feet and his calves tensed. "A moment please." Hank slid out a second box, continuing to speak. It wasn't entirely a bid to buy himself time, but he wasn't done working. "What does it say of a man, selecting one before the other? Do we take the good news as to lull us into complacency before the bitter draught, or take our poison with the hope that happier times await. It's a rather semantic distinction, I suppose, wherein the end result is the same in any event." "However I believe it was the ever sententious Roman poet and playwright Publilius Syrus who said 'That should be considered long which can be decided but once.' Hmm." He put the lid back on the box. "What was the question?" Annoyance was written all over Victoria's face. Anyone who knew her -- and that number had dwindled in the last twenty-four hours -- could tell that her anger was more attributed to betrayal than anything else. Victoria Hand didn't do angry, not like this and not with a serious infraction. She gripped the gun tighter and lifted her shoulder. "HYDRA has infiltrated SHIELD at the highest level. We've been waiting for the right moment, and it seems that's today. I'm here to offer you a choice, Agent McCoy. Swear unwavering loyalty to HYDRA right now, for always, or share Director Fury's fate." There wasn't time for dallying. Her and her loyal agents had to get the upper hand on the Hub before it was too late. Of all the things she could have said, that was perhaps one of the more surprising. Though since the message, he had been waiting for the metaphorical shoe to drop. Hank couldn't hide the look of confusion, even hurt, that crossed his nearly human features. But before his teeth were bared, his revulsion was kept in check. Hank McCoy was loathe to join a war, much less as an aggressor. Far less likely as a force akin to those against whom Erik and Rachel spoke in hushed tones. Hank fought a different war. One of genetics and right to be. His goal at SHIELD had always been understanding of mutation. HYDRA would want control. He knew they'd find he could be useful. And if they left him alone, he knew he could make certain his research wasn't. If they shot him, it was theirs. It was hardly the most noble of sacrifices. But nobility was not made for beasts. Hank rose to his full height, braced against the lab bench between them. ".... Alright. I'll join you." Victoria liked Hank. He was smart, too smart sometimes, and his agreement wasn't because he believed in it. He wasn't a spy, and his emotions were completely clear on his face. His answer made her sad, however. She gave an almost imperceptible nod to her agents who moved in a tight formation around McCoy. "Wrong answer." Her voice was tight and full of authority. "Handcuff him to the wall. Make sure he can't access any of his equipment." She allowed herself some semblance of human emotion that wasn't anger. "We could have used your abilities, Hank. It's a shame you couldn't remain loyal." |