1346/Team Bucky Nooooo

Team Bucky Nooooo
Date of Scene:	07 July 2017
Location:	An abandoned dojo in NYC.
Synopsis:	Claire Temple, Mercy Thompson, The Black Widow and Sam Winchester come up with a plan to retrieve the Winter Soldier from the clutches of his handlers.
Cast of Characters:	Sam Winchester, Claire Temple, Mercy Thompson, Black Widow (Romanoff), Winter Soldier
Tinyplot:	Tayaniye

---

Sam Winchester has posed:
It is a strange team that has been assembled this night: a strange team, with a strange goal. Two members seem grouchy about it, Fred and Dean having already decided to go on a beer run together in a way that has creased Sam's face into some seriously worried lines. But he let them go.

They do not meet in the nicest of environs. This old, abandoned dojo would be familiar to Natasha as a meeting place that Sam had chosen before, but...it has its advantages. It shares this end of town with an abandoned gas station and a storage place. It has mats, and if they're dusty, they're servicable. The mirrors do cast a sort of eerie shadow across the floors. Sam has thrown down a couple of Coleman camping lanterns towards the center of the room, and has drawn the shades. He's also brought pizza and a cooler of beer, soda, and bottled water.

There's no reason for people to sit there and be hungry just because they're trying to talk strategy. Some of the people who had been involved all along surprsied him...finding out that Liam and Mercy had been was a pleasant shock, for example. Strange how small a world can be, strange how lines of fate can reach out to bring such disparate people together into common conference.

Claire Temple has posed:
Once in receipt of the address to the spot, and making sure to forward same to Mercy, Claire doesn't even let herself stop to sit. She keeps thinking once that happens: well. The perfect storm of what once was will happen, and once she stops to sit, she'll stop to think. Once she stops to think, she'll stop to get afraid. She stops to get afraid, and -- she'll start questioning things. Doubting herself. Thinking how a thing like this is not a place for a woman like her -- weak, simple, civilian -- and maybe it's best Claire just turn her cheek and let this one go. Go back to where it's safer.

But she doesn't. With a quiet conviction, she stays standing, she calls into work and hands off her shift again -- too much of this bullshit and she's going to be out on her ass, and /that's/ another thing -- and with messages relayed first both to Sam Winchester and Mercy that she's heading out that way, out the door goes Claire.

Claire spends the train ride with her head back and her eyes closed. At the backs of her eyes, she keeps seeing glimpses of Yasha back in that chair. He might be in it now. Locked in. Needles pushed through him. Screaming.

Her knuckles rap the door in warning before Claire lets herself inside. Looking as drawn and sleepless as ever, she flares a weary smile over to the remaining Winchester that doesn't touch her eyes. "Hey, Sam," she greets. The sight of food and drink draws from her something close to amusement. She helps herself to a beer with her left hand; the right arm braced in a thin, strapped-on, removable cast. "I don't see your ass of a brother. He's OK, right?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Claire's message is received in quite the timely manner, but even so, it still takes Mercy Thompson time to get there.

She has the Garage to get settled and once that's done she's also forwarding the information to a certain other member of this very odd group.

As such, Mercy might be one of the last ones arriving. Unlike Claire she didn't take the train, instead she drove and she parked a street away, once she surveyed the area around. While normally Mercy isn't quite this paranoid everything that's occurred lately has Mercy showing a bit more self-preservation it seems.

Eventually though the coyote approaches, her ears, eyes and nose all attentive to what's around her. Already her hearing and her sense of smell informs her that people are within, both familiar to her. That allows the dark-haired woman to relax ever so slightly. When she's at the door she'll offer a quick and quiet knock upon the door, before she's stepping inside. Immediately her gaze will go to the people within the room, "Claire. Sam." She'll say in a rather quiet voice, because something about all of this makes Mercy feel the need to be careful.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Natasha enters quietly through the door, dressed down today in civilian clothes. Slacks, blouse, boots, lightweight leather jacket. She didn't bother knocking. With this gathering, she figures that people will know she was there before she ever entered. Her expression is closed, nothing showing for others to read. Her body language is still and quiet, seemingly relaxed. She nods to those she knows and to those she doesn't but for now, she doesn't speak. A wall is found toward the back of the room and she leans against it, crossing her arms over her chest.

In truth, she's anxious and worried. There are a lot of demons running through her head, things that were better left in the darkness of her past. With everything happening, bits of that are seeping through. It has her on edge. Not that she'll let them see that.

Tonight what is set in motion is going to change everything. She just hopes that it's a change for the good.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Claire has gained a cast, Sam has lost one, his right arm finally free of it. "Dean's fine," he says. "Grouchy, but fine. He and Fred went on a beer run."

Concerned look again. He has a feeling they are Discussing Things They Don't Want Sammy to Hear, and that bothers him. Still, done is done. He pauses, clears his throat, looks around the assembled gathering. "Well," he says at last, not really accustomed to the act of //running a meeting//, "This is almost everyone..."

He looks around at the others. He's so awkward, opening and closing his mouth as if he doesn't even have a //clue// where to begin now that people are here.

Claire Temple has posed:
Two more filter in shortly after. Claire turns a glance back, and offers up a short wave first at the familiar sight of Mercy; she doesn't miss the coyote's greeting to Sam, and her eyebrows pop up. Those two know each other? Maybe in another life she'd be genuinely surprised, she supposes. She has weirder things happen. Namely -- what's going on tonight.

Then as Natasha joins them, Claire slips the third woman one of her slightly-strained smiles, though her dark eyes gentle with relief.

Having so many people here, together, in one room -- to serve one purpose. It does wonders for hope.

Claire's attention rivets back on Sam when he speaks, fixing him with her overtired eyes. Her job deals in so many types of awkward; she can sense a bit of it in play.

"So the reason we're all here is to find Yasha, and get him back from -- those sons of bitches that are apparently called Hydra. The same sons of bitches who've probably got him back in that thing to do a number on his head -- make him forget. From what Natasha's told me, doing this is pretty much us going into Hell. Everyone's still in?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
With everyone assembled the coyote will look at each of them with some curiosity, especially those she doesn't know. Automatically Mercy will scent the air within the dusty dojo, trying to parse out all the feelings around her.

Most of the scents are easy enough to identify; anxiousness, anger. Worry too.

It's only when Sam speaks that the mechanic's attention returns back to him. And as he offers those awkward words of his, Mercy will step towards Claire, a supportive smile being turned to the Night Nurse.

Of course, when Claire takes over the conversation Mercy can't quite hide the a faintly crooked smile upon her lips now. Though it's those words of Claire's that cause the coyote's expression to turn much more sober. Hydra. Now she at least has a name to go with who's doing this. Crossing her arms, Mercy will ask, "Do we know where he's being held at? I think we definitely need a plan - I have a feeling this isn't something we can run mad-dash into and find ourselves coming out okay."

Not with the way Yasha fights; in Mercy's mind that means this organization likely has fighters who are equally trained. Or near it, at least.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam exhales and gives Claire a smile as she lays it out...so much like Dean would, actually. "Still in," he says, resolutely. He smells mostly determined, but yes, also worried. He shakes his head at that, glancing to Natasha-- she's actually got access to most of the resources that might be able to pinpoint such a thing. He glances at Mercy and asks, "Don't suppose you or Liam can manage a tracking spell? Surely-- " he looks at Claire. "You have a little hair of his or something? Blood would be best but..."

He can't imagine she kept any of that lying around. "I don't have any in my journal," he adds, to the reason why /he/ can't just use a tracking spell. He frowns, though, adding, "Though..."

He pops open a beer, paces. "Would that be complicated by the fact that he doesn't answer to the same name when he's under Hydra's control? As his true name?"

It's an unorthodox solution, but...the way Sam sees it they need something unorthodox to sucker punch people who have entire armies at their disposal. "How did you guys find him the first time, anyway?" This question directed to Claire, speaking of her first rescue.

Winter Soldier has posed:
(Spoofing!)

"You can track him," a quiet voice speaks up, "but he will likely lose you. He built his career on disappearing."

Natasha has not moved from her spot against the wall, nor unfolded her arms. Her body language is closed as ever, shadowed eyes saying nothing beneath their lowered lashes. "It's better to bait him with something he wants. Or," Her mouth twists wryly for half a moment, "with what his handlers want. Same thing."

Her head turns aside, red hair just brushing the curve of her shoulder. "Someone like the Winter Soldier, if you want to pin him down in one place, you have to put something he wants in that one place."

She finally lifts her head. "I know his masters want me. Made me an offer. If I were to suggest I would take it, tell him where to meet me... he'll come to collect."

Claire Temple has posed:
The conversation around magic earns Claire's characteristic silence. Not her world; not her wheelhouse. In all actuality, she's still in the process of convincing herself all of that is real. Even though it seems to be. Even though it is.

That, or she's the first step to finally losing her mind.

"Yasha was always particular about picking up after himself," she says, something unspoken hanging like a guillotine among her words. That retreat into memory turns and gentles Claire's brown eyes. "Makes sense. Kept his presence on the permanent down-low." Either that, or to help better keep aspects of his life off her doorstep. He was always so clandestine about his visits.

When Sam asks a very good question, namely how she and Mercy /found/ him the first time, Claire parts her lips, glad to answer --

When Natasha intones something else instead. Thoughts forgotten, the woman turns her head, her eyes half-hooding. She listens.

"Natasha and I spoke a few days ago," she adds in further explanation. "She had mentioned this plan." Pain pinches into her eyes. "I think it's solid. Absolutely insane, but solid. It might be the best shot we get at setting a trap."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Those tricky questions of Sam's.

It's a fine line Mercy has to walk when it comes to what she's willing to say about Liam - Loki. It's simply not her place to reveal all of what he can do, they're not her secrets to speak of.

It's enough that the coyote's expression shifts to thoughtfulness as she considers just WHAT to say and how to answer; not necessarily the question at hand. She already knows the answer to that. He could find anything - literally. And while Claire doesn't necessarily know the whole story, Mercy looks to her friend first, before she nods slowly. "I believe he can, even with whatever name he's running around with."

There, that's most likely the safest thing to admit. "I'll ask him." Are the final words from Mercy on Liam and his abilities.

And as to that question about their first rescue mission, that's enough to earn a second look from Mercy to Claire. Amusement crimps the mechanic's mouth again - also permission just in case Claire was worried about revealing things about Mercy. Most in this room already know. Thankfully though, Natasha speaks and those words of hers divert some of the secrets that fill this particular room. Glancing between all of them now, the coyote adds, "And then when he arrives we steal him back." Her hands rub at her face as she considers their plan, the people here and their varying degrees of sanity. "I'm not sure how much I can offer in this type of situation, but like I said before, I'm in."

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Bait's a time honored strategy," Sam says, though softly, and with some regret. On his travels he got to hear extensively about how his own father got a Hunter killed by using him as bait. But. Well. Natasha. Is Natasha. "But we'll need a pretty good strategy to avoid tipping him off to our presence when he comes to collect. Especially if they send him back, freshly...Wintered up. He doesn't miss much."

Sam ought to know, after all. And therein lies the rub...they can bait the trap, but can they keep it from looking like a trap? If they can't, the Winter Soldier might either just rabbit...or take all of them out in a flurry of contempt, only to collect his prize anyway. Or try.

And that's if Hydra doesn't just show up in his place.

He presents these things merely as problems to be solved, earnestly not anything like discouraged by them. If anything, the young man seems to have the sort of confidence that comes from someone who has solved multiple sticky problems. He hasn't met a problem that couldn't be solved /somehow/. There is never 'no way' to do something. It's just a matter of finding that way.

Claire Temple has posed:
"He really, really doesn't miss much," Claire concurs Sam's point, and with more than a little wariness. "He comes out of nowhere. He hears things that don't even occur to me. He... he helped me survive a mob hit several weeks ago. I'm not exactly popular in the neighbourhood. I don't even know the count of how many he killed. I heard a lot of them. Maybe more than ten. He did it without breaking a sweat. He told me he can hold his breath for ten minutes. And that's before you get into the arm they put on his body."

The nurse pulls a hand through her black hair, unable to help but turn a quick glance toward Natasha throughout her own words; the woman who surely knows all this first hand. Who was /trained/ by this.

"But whatever they made of him, James Barnes is still in there. We just have to dig him back out again." Claire glances down, briefly biting on her lower lip. "And he deserves us all fighting for him."

And as for Mercy's comment, Claire glances over at her friend, appraising her with a pensive fondness. "Don't sell yourself short, Thompson. You have skills. And I'm talking about what you did for his arm. You remember that chair? How they had something that... held his metal arm in place? Had it be strong to keep him. Much as it disgusts me to want to even talk about it, engineering something like that might be a good idea. Maybe it was magnetic. You think you could build something like that? To get that arm out of commission? Maybe even held in place? Of course, that doesn't help with whoever the hell Hydra is. If they're going to send back-up. If they've got military training, or certain methods of attack."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Sam's words bring a nod from the coyote - truth there, playing the bait card can definitely backfire on them.

It's Claire's words that bring Mercy's attention back to the forefront, as she considers all that was just said. A smile is also given to the Nurse, when she offers those words of encouragement to the mechanic.

"Hmmm." Hedges Mercy as she quickly runs through what she /knows/ of that dangerous arm, or rather what she can remember of it. She only saw it for a handful of minutes at the garage. "An electromagnet might work." States the coyote thoughtfully, "Or something to lock up the inner articulation of the arm. Cause it to maybe freeze in place, versus making sure a magnet keeps his arm in place."

All that is said more to herself than the other three, but then Mercy focuses back upon the others. "I think I could potentially come up with some tricks to throw at him, yes. I can't say if they'll work as well as I'm envisioning them, but if it brings his arm down a level or two - to something less extreme - I think it's worth trying."

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam Winchester tries to think of the role he can play. "I have ICER rounds," he says at last, slowly. "Stun gun rounds. Non-lethal. I can fire at him. I probably won't hit, but if I do...well, he'll be out. Or...sluggish and slow, given his abilities. It might help...and it might focus fire on me if it comes to that." Since they're talking about disabling his arm.

There's an undercurrent there that might piss some of these ladies off. He is the big Moose Man. If anyone should draw fire, it's him. Well. And maybe Natasha. Who can wipe the floor. With his face.

But for the most part, Sam Winchester is a man who has a great deal of a young knight in him. "Dean could too, though he'll be pissy to use those sorts of rounds. But...he'll only whine, so that's okay." He grins a little. He gets to make fun of his brother a bit while he's not here. It's a mischievious streak that only comes out sometime, a desire to yank his brother's chain. But for the most part, the hazel-eyed young man is very serious.

"We should pick a place," he says thoughtfully. "Place will matter."

Claire Temple has posed:
"Like I said," Claire appends toward Mercy, with the brief touch of a smile. "You got skills." It's her way of officially delegating that side of this straight over to the coyote to figure out. She'll leave those details for the mechanic to decide what's best.

That dangerous hope worsens in her eyes at Sam's further suggestion. "From what I've seen while treating him, his cellular regeneration is... intense. He heals fast, and clean. Last few times I treated him, I made a note to watch the fade rate of his recent scars. He metabolizes fast. Runs like a furnace. If you need stronger pharmas, I can hook you up."

The more Claire realizes, in the form of an itching thought at the back of her head: she's surrounded by skilled, experienced, naturally-imbued people. People who have been in this sort of game, or those very similar. Maybe /she/ is the weakest link in all of this. Maybe--

Claire tries to ignore those surfacing doubts. It helps to find some remove in hearing Sam pick on his brother in absentia, enough that it pulls a smile to her mouth. She always wanted a sibling. That's probably what it would've been like. "Place. Right," she says. She glances back to the redhead lingering at the wings of the group, always listening, never missing anything. "I have a feeling that's your specialty, Natasha."

The nurse lets go a deep breath. "So it kinda sounds like we have a plan. Guess there's no backing out now."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
A faint snort might be heard from Mercy at Claire's mention of skills. Yes, she'll take over the potential mechanical traps.

Then a look is slid towards Sam when he says ICER, as if they all know what that is; thankfully he explains. Her expression looks worried, though, or unconvinced perhaps. Unconvinced that stun rounds and non-lethal rounds would actually do anything to the Winter Soldier.

"Focus more fire on you?" Begins Mercy, her expression turning incredulous, "Are you serious? I've seen that man shoot. He will /kill/ you. Kill. You. Don't be stupid." Perhaps harsh words from the coyote, but really it's not unaccounted for and beyond that worry is what colors those last two sentences of hers.

And while more should be said, really it should, the conversation moves to places. "Someplace we can potentially control. Or control the most. Especially the flow of uninvited guests and civilian traffic." And thankfully that's handed over to Natasha, because Mercy is hardly a strategist here. Stepping towards Claire, Mercy will drop a hand to the other woman's shoulder. She may not know what caused the doubt to suddenly flare in Claire's scent, but Mercy smelled it. "We'll get him back." The coyote states, hazarding a guess (even if it is wrong) on what's going on in the other woman's mind.

"We will."

Then, slowly, because Mercy isn't one to often call upon her extended family, she'll add. "I'll see if I can call in some favors back home. He may be fast and heal fast, but so do wolves and I know a few who owe me."

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam just looks at Mercy and doesn't defend himself other than to say, "I survived him on my own once. I'm not going to be on my own this time." Though he does, as has been noted, have /such/ a self-sacrificial streak that he's been known to really compromise his own safety.

He digs rounds out of the clip and passes them to Claire. "I'm told it's a powerful dendrotoxin," he adds. "If you can beef them up, so much the better. But yes, we've got a plan."

He thinks about a place they can control and keep the flow of civilian traffic down. Those are all good points. "So somewhere indoors, and abandoned, but with enough hidey holes for people to work from."