1524/A Meeting Convened

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A Meeting Convened
Date of Scene: 18 July 2017
Location: West Harlem - Mercy's Garage
Synopsis: Loki, Black Widow and Mercy speak of plans to take down the Soldier. Spoiler Alert: The plans aren't very well thought out just yet.
Cast of Characters: Mercy Thompson, Black Widow (Romanoff), Loki
Tinyplot: Tayaniye


Mercy Thompson has posed:
Word was sent through their motley group by whatever means have been set-up. A meeting was requested by Mercy Thompson for Liam Serrure to Natasha Romanova. Though, the fact that Mercy didn't quite know the other woman's name would likely have made a rather awkwardly worded invitation.

Nonetheless, the invitation was sent out into the technological ether and eventually an answer received. A time and place was set up for this particular meeting and now, that time has arrived and the place is Mercy's Garage.

The front door of the garage has been locked up tight and a 'Closed' sign hung for all to see. It's the side entrance to the garage that's been left up and open, which allows the light from within to spill out upon the pavement of the parking lot. Occasional movement within the interior of the somewhat spacious garage port can be seen, as Mercy moves here and there, making the space presentable for visitors now that the work day is complete.

While the interior of the garage is mostly clean, a few tools and boxes might be seen upon a work bench. As for Mercy, she can currently be found right next to that work bench, a smaller cardboard box being packed into the larger one. On the outside of the box a hasty scribble of 'FRAGILE - DON'T DROP' can be seen written in heavy black marker.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
The sound of a motorcycle can be heard on the street outside. Not unusual in and of itself. Only it slows, coming around the corner to stop right near that entrance. The bike is black with no markings. It matches the rider astride who is covered in black from head to toe. Natasha flicks down the kickstand, rocking the bike to settle as she swings her right leg over the top and removes her helmet, all in one smooth motion. Her redhair falls around her shoulders. She runs her fingers through it, to give it some semblence of oder after being caught under the helmet. The leather jacket is unzipped, showing a black button up shirt and a pair of black jeans with Harley Davidson boots on her feet. She doesn't remove the jacket, just unzips it.
    For those with such awareness, they might be able to tell she wears a gun in a holster at the small of her back. She also has her trademark gauntlets on her wrists but they are hidden beneath the sleeves.
    Walking to the open door, she knocks on it gently before continuing to walk inside. Her demeanor is open and curious but she's an expert at depecting what she wants as opposed to what is truth. No telling that's she's actually nervous to be called in for a meet but she saw no harm in doing so. Likely they have either more ideas or questions about her. Either way, no harm at least showing up.

Loki has posed:
Liam Serrure, if anyone bothers to run a record check, brings up a very nice Englishman acting as a senior consultant to Christie's. His history includes a stint at archrival Sotheby's, and his experience circles around the field of appraisal and restoration in European antiquities. The man has a tiny corner of the website noting his involvement with paintings. Truly they don't summarize someone who wears crisp suits, enjoys lattes, and dates a mechanic in //Harlem//.

He's the quintessential Englishman in New York, probably mildly bemused by it all. Coming to the garage, he actually holds an umbrella over his shoulder (but no saxophone solo). The rain patters down somewhere close nearby. He holds a bag, his latest offering to woo Mercy's tastebuds and beg Medea's forgiveness. The scent is light and suggests honey, possibly. No use has he for a car in a city designed to stymie them, those deathly murder machines best not avoided. So his arrival is the standard fashion, a knock at the door, an invitation to come inside, a good three and a half minutes after Natasha is admitted. One ought to be prompt without seeming too eager, after all.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
It takes a bit longer to get that smaller box inside the larger one, thanks to the insulation found within, but when it's secured inside Mercy neatly closes the box. Packing tape will be grabbed and quickly put across the seam at the top, to secure the lid closed.

By the time the tape is in place that sound of the motorcycle is heard and while Mercy hears it from a good distance out, she doesn't necessarily react to it until it's clear it's stopping here. So, when Natasha arrives within the confines of her garage she'll find Mercy already turned towards the side door, expression expectant.

"Evening." States the mechanic politely, even as she reaches for a small hand-towel next to her. She'll wipe her hands free of any oil, or grease, before she walks over to the red-head, her hand extended. "Thanks for coming over on such short notice." Even as she offers to shake hands, the coyote will glance at the clock that hangs upon one wall of the Garage, "Liam should be here hopefully soon."

And while it may take a few more minutes after that for him to actually show, eventually the devil does; or in this case, the Trickster. Either way, when that second knock is heard, Mercy automatically turns toward the sound, saying as she does so, "I bet that's him now."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    The hand is taken in a firm grip, given a brief pump, then released. "No problem. I figure we need to get as much planned as possible ahead of time," Natasha replies as she drops her hands back to her sides. They share a few minutes of small talk or silence, it matters not to her which, until the door is knocked upon. She doesn't tense but she does glance to the door, prepared in case it isn't who they expect. After all, the Winter Soldier seems to be making the rounds and the mechanic in Harlem is one that he had mentioned to Natasha personally. He doesn't usually knock. Being unpredictable though is a talent of his.
    Paranoia is a wonderful thing.

Loki has posed:
A good shake of the umbrella dispels most of the water from the black nylon. A bit of fussing fixes the tines flat against the steel body, which Liam totes in hand as he steps into the garage. At least that finer part of it, occupied by at least one of his favourite mortals on Midgard. They are a select number, if expanding.

Liam is just a terribly English fellow at a glance, his slicked back, dark hair tending to curl slightly at the edges and definitely clean-shaven. It's not a matter of illusion; what one sees is exactly what one gets. He nearly manages to look mildly put out at interrupting something exotic and foreign, that is, a meeting of women of any kind. The umbrella is stowed against the door and the paper bag from a respectable bakery held up, as it happens, for an offering in lieu of olive branches. "Good evening, Miss Thompson." His gaze moves from the dark-haired woman to the redhead, marking them in equal stead. "Is this still a good time? I can flit out and take my leave, as needed."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Unpredictable is definitely one way to describe the Winter Soldier.

Scary, cruel, intense - and so many more.

Still, that's neither here nor there, at this particular moment as Liam finally arrives inside. Upon his entrance Mercy steps away from Natasha, even as the other woman earns another glance from the coyote. A flare of nostrils brought forth the other woman's scent and while she doesn't necessarily remark about what she smells within it, the mechanic does add, "It's okay." Perhaps an odd bit added to this conversation, but Mercy adds it, trying to help quell some of the anxiety she smells within the other woman's scent.

Then her attention shifts over to Loki and when he steps inside Mercy moves toward him. "Evening, Liam." She says with a flash of a smile to the man, even as she reaches for the bag, to take off his hands, "Here let me take that - and yes, it's still a good time. We were just talking about planning things as best we can - not that plans ever stay the same once everything hits the fan."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Considering our plan is so full of holes big enough to drive a truck through," comes the light quip from Natasha. She stills remains as she was, watching the newcomer with interest. When no one else comes through the door and no shots ring out, her scent of paranoia may fade a little. Not too much. It's actually a state she lives in most of the time, it was simply heightened at this moment. She does move, walking a few feet to the left so that the angle to that open doorway is different, allowing no clear line-of-sight unless someone were just outside.

Mercy she has seen before, albeit briefly and they didn't speak to one another privately. Liam is a newcomer and she regards him openly. No hostility, simply looking at him and reading his body language. "I'm not sure what you wanted to see me for but here I am. You can call me Natalia."

Loki has posed:
"Evening." A fondness pours through the words for all his reticence. Liam isn't wearing a coat given the heat in New York. He nudges Mercy with his elbow in passing when she moves a little nearer to his corner, his hand gently brushing along her wrist in the transfer of the honey rolls. An appropriate gift, as it might be had. "I'm Liam, Natalia," he says to Natasha, turning to her and meeting her gaze as she likes. His position isn't quite so calculated in any sense, other than to possibly offer a handshake as necessary. Americans like that sort of thing.

A calculated, brilliant show of truth thinner than the veneer of an IKEA table, chaos brimming in every corner.

"Her friend is in danger. He seems a good sort of bloke, except when the wires cross. So here we are, trying to make the best of it." English, of course. No accusations of being chummy with assassins. "Helping him, if we can."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The nudge, the light touch, it allows a longer smile to cross Mercy's expression. Those honey rolls will be taken and carried over to a clean work bench. A different one versus the one that holds the box marked with fragile.

Once the package is set atop it, the coyote pivots upon heel, to keep both Liam and Natalia in view. While she's sure she offered her name to Natalia at the original meeting, Mercy offers it again. "Mercy." Then she waits for Loki to start this conversation, since in the end, this was his request to meet with Natalia.

Hearing his tone and his words brings her gaze back to him. Yes, she's seen this veneer of the 'englishman', but it's still watched by the mechanic. Her head nods with what 'Liam' has to say, as she likewise adds, "I've created a few surprises to hopefully take his arm out. I just need a good enough sharp shooter to test what I've made. Make sure it handles under different stressors and situations."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"I can test it but I can't be the shooter at the time." Natasha offers, glancing between the pair and watching the interplay. "Otherwise, I have a few friends I could get to do so. Quietly." She doesn't want her bosses involved any more than they would. After all, they would see Bucky as a science project to be disected and figured out. That she won't allow. Which is strange. She owes him nothing but upon learning he is a victim as much as a villain, she's finding herself crossing lines she never should be anywhere near. Not after her choices were made almost a decade ago to become a hero instead of an agent for her mother country.

"I'm honestly not sure where we stand. I haven't heard from Claire for a few days. I've called in a few allies of my own who will hopefully be available when the time comes. They'll bring some additional skills to the table and hopefully give us the advantage."

Loki has posed:
"He is obviously an exceptional shot. Accurate and, by any means, expecting trouble." Liam ticks off the possible problems one by one. "That gives us a distinct disadvantage for incapacitating him up close, much less at range. Miss Thompson suggests you have a decent understanding for his abilities and his background. Perhaps you might share what we might consider in any strategy. For you're quite right; there's an abundance of holes in a plan." He shakes his head slightly, dark hair dusting his collar. The situation does not wholly sit well with him. But he refuses to inject much emotion into the query, leaving it so carefully and painlessly fashioned into that milquetoast approach. "We have a man ready to harm anyone, a missing woman or several missing people, and likely hostages. I see the odds being rather against us for a peaceful solution unless we can find a means to take him unexpectedly. He's trained, yes, to hunker in place for a while, use sniping skills, extract himself with minimal to maximum force?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"Send your friends my way, please." Mercy says, "I'd like to be there when the bullets are tested. See how they react and what needs to be fixed, modified -" And while more could be said, because Mercy's a builder, it's not. Not when Claire's name is mentioned.

Claire.

That's like a punch to Mercy's gut. Her stomach drops. For a second there, with all that's going on, Mercy nearly forgot. That near forgetfulness causes the coyote to pale slightly, ashamed, guilty even. "We believe he has her." Mercy adds after all of what Loki says and asks, her voice now sober, quiet and dark. "At least, we believe he does. He tried to grab me, but -" A look to Loki, "- he was unsuccessful." Which possibly says something about Mercy, or Liam, or both of them. "But I'm fairly positive he has her. He had a building rigged with explosives and Claire's mother inside. Thankfully, he didn't get a chance to blow it up."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
The string of curses are long and in Russian. Natasha's hands go in her pockets and she looks to the open doorway, eyes not focusing there but on something internal. "He's going for the allies he had while he was free from the programming. He's giving them all your information." She looks back to Mercy then Liam, wondering how the woman avoided being captured. Then she focuses directly on Liam.

"This will not be resolved without conflict. There is no way around it. He's too good for us to take him by complete surprise. He's been a ghost for almost a century. The only way to draw him out is to give them something they want so they send him to collect it. That's why I volunteered to be the bait. Hydra wants me. They know he is one of the few people on their payroll who could take me down if I changed my mind. They tried once before to have him recruit me. I declined and, only due to his break in programming, I survived." It is a statement, not spoken as ego or bragging. "His skills are varied. He is most known as a sniper but he is just as good at espionage and close combat. He is the man who trained me, who gave me the name the Black Widow. But when it goes down, I figured I'm the distraction to keep him busy while you all fire off whatever toys you have created. If we can take him down, I'm sure we will have a place to hold him until we figure out how to break him free of the programming again."

Loki has posed:
Those strings of curses are perfectly understandable to Liam. There isn't a language spoken in the universe he cannot tease out the meaning of, though he possesses enough wherewithal to not show that understanding. He neither needs to comment upon them.

"Understandable. False leads and false feeds back to them are a longer term issue," he muses, his fingers drifting up and down his arm in a moment. Reaching for Mercy, he gives her a gentle touch to still that flood of reaction crushing through the woman's presence. Even he can pick up on that. "Bringing him out still leaves the dangling note. Is he going to have anyone else to back him up or is he a solitary operator? This Hydra organization isn't going to be happy to lose two potential assets in a single stroke." And neither will they like it at all, understanding whom he is, if they actually do. They may well. And it wasn't a nice day on a rainy plane in Germany when he wandered through a circle of nasty little conjurers to check what sort of tomfoolery they called him and his brother down with. "The programming is more my business, Miss Natalia. Psychology is my professional specialty." Aside from, you know, art restoration. Man needs a hobby.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"I'm sorry." Mutters Mercy, "I should have led with that." The bit about Claire being captured that is, but now it's there on the table, and that's all that can be done.

The touch from Liam seems to help, or at least, it brings her back to the present. It's enough for her to focus back upon the task at hand -

- and thankfully, she doesn't necessarily need to say much else at first, not when the Black Widow offers those curses of hers. No, instead, Mercy listens as the other woman lays it all out for Loki. Mercy knows the majority of this, though not that name of hers. When that name is mentioned the coyote can't help the faint pinch of brows, as she considers what such a name entails. Nothing good, is what immediately crops to Mercy's mind. Still, she's an ally and Mercy understands this.

The mention of programming brings a grimace from the coyote, "I hope it can be broken. When I spoke briefly to him over the phone ... all I heard was killer." She says, even as Loki receives a bit of side-eye. There's a slight question there, but she doesn't voice it, that can be asked afterwards. "But Liam's right, do you think he'll have back-up? If he's by himself I'd imagine we have a chance, but if he brings others like him -" Then that chance becomes very slim in Mercy's mind.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"There are no others like him," Natasha says. "I was the closest. At one time, we were allies. When I chose to help the United States, we were placed on opposite sides of the chessboard." She glances between them, the way the two relate an interesting ballet. "He will have backup. They won't take a chance to send him in alone, just in case I got lucky. They'll have their own snipers, back up teams in the area, probably tranqs in addition to bullets to try to take me alive. If they can't, they'll use the bullets." She shrugs, nonchalant about life and death, even her own. There is no indication by scent or other that the concept is distressing. "That's why the more allies we have present, the better."