Owner	Pose
Clint Barton	Ah, Madripoor. There was never a more wretched hive of scum and villainy, but sometimes that quality was useful. SHIELD couldn't operate officially there, their despotic prince wouldn't allow it, but, where authority failed, money talked. Take the guy operating the business centre at the Madripoor Hilton. A more scrupulous individual might have asked for ID or a warrant when May and Clint showed up to ask him about someone using the wifi at his establishment for illegal purposes. The data breach from earlier that day had led them here in search of Skye. The guy though? He just asked for money, and then even more money to hand over the phone and laptop he took from the table after a suspicious couple left them there in a hurry. Clint wanted to be here and the same time he didn't. He wanted to find Skye, hell he needed to, but at the same time everything he'd heard so far put a strain on his whole 'Skye's working under duress' theory that he was clinging to. Still, she was alive to try and hack SHIELD, that was a good sign on some level. Though he still didn't look too happy. Or well. He'd worn business casual for the mission, but the dark circles under his eyes and stubble made him look more like a put together lush rather than a business traveller, but then this was Madripoor and there was room for both. Clint was quiet from when they got the assignment, quiet when they went through the 'magic doors' at St. Molly's to insert into Madripoor, and quiet on their trip up to Hightown and the Hilton. In fact, it's close to the only words he'd said all trip when he asks the guy extorting the cash from them, "Let's pretend we might be willing to pay, how much are we talking here?"
Melinda May	May's tolerating Clint's moping. She understands. But. She'll only tolerate it for so long. She deals with getting from Manhattan to Madripoor, she deals with the hotel manager except for that one prompt from Barton, and she takes the laptop and phone when they finally pony up enough cash to satisfy the sheister. Accepting the computer and phone, she turns to look at Clint, as if silently telling him to lead the way.
Clint Barton	Clint isn't moping! Okay, yeah he is, but he's got good reason. "Right, so how much for the computer, the phone and," he lays his own phone on the coffee bar with a picture of Skye on it. "To tell me if you saw this girl and describe any one she was with?" he asks the Business Centre manager as he holds up a hand for May to wait a second.
Skye Johnson	Abd al-Aziz tuts to himself, leaning over the counter at the coffee bar, picking up Clint's phone while resting his elbows on the laptop that the pair have come to retrieve. The question of 'how much' and the picture are all he needs to know how lucrative this could be. "I might maybe see a woman like that. But you know how it is. Always busy here. People come. People go. Always leaving things behind. How do I know you're right people who I should make this deal with, huh?"
Melinda May	May stops, turns, and levels her most unimpressed look at the hotel sheister. The kind of looks that usually precedes violence. Of course, it's very possible that this moron won't cotton on to it. So, she gives Barton a chance to deal with the guy before she feels she has to open up that can.
Clint Barton	Clint smiles tiredly at Abd al-Aziz, "Okay, you've got a lucky day here, I am not in a mood for this whole dance, so, how about you name your price, tell me what you know about the girl and the people she was with and I can come up with a whole lot of reasons to remember her, sound good?" he asks meeding Abd's eyes across the bar.
Skye Johnson	If Aziz is disappointed that there will be no haggling, he doesn't show it, merely shows a toothy, yellowed grin and gives Clint a price. "Two thousand. Each. Or I remember the laptop belonged to a man and he asks me to watch it while he uses the restroom. So much crime here. So very bad. You understand how it is." Her tsks to himself as though he's speaking nothing but the gods honest truth here Notably, he hadn't handed Clint his phone back yet, and he's still leaning on the laptop and phone Skye left behind.
Melinda May	May glances to Clint as if asking for permission. It's probably a rare thing from her, but she's got a reason for doing so.
Clint Barton	Clint may be tired and heartsick, but something deep in his former-carny soul objects to being bilked on a fundamental level. "Each?!" he protests. "Two thousand, for the whole package, answers included and-" he snatches his phone out of Adb's hand. "-give me that back." May asking for permission? That makes him blink a moment, before he gives May a little nod. He didn't quite know what she had in mind, but he could guess. Still, permission granted.
Skye Johnson	Aziz holds up his hands in somewhat protest as Clint snatches back his phone. "No need for that. Such a misunderstanding. I meant to say two thousand for both and two thousand for information on the pretty lady in the phone. Maybe I even remember what her friend looks like, hrm? Maybe I see something else I remember?"
Melinda May	May glances this way and that, then as fast as a cobra strike she grabs the man's collar and yanks him forward so he slams his face into the counter separating them. Then she tells him in her deadliest quiet voice, "Are we going to need to renegotiate that sum, al-Aziz?"
Clint Barton	Clint may not have known entirely what May had been planning, but when she starts looking around, he moves to step between al-Aziz and most of the patrons, using his six foot three inch frame as a screen to block their view. Flinching, he says, "You alright, man?" and reaches into his pocket to pull out the money. "So, two thousand right? For the whole thing?"
Skye Johnson	The words '...else I remember?' are barely out of the man's mouth, still hanging in the air between the three, and in a blur of motion, May's grabbed him by the collar and slammed him face first into the counter. There's the sickening crunch of cartilege, and a sudden spurt of blood as the man's nose is most definitely broken. al-Aziz grabs his hands in front of his face and starts cursing at the pair, spitting out profanities. "For that, I tell you nothing about the girl." He's quick to grab for the money Cliint holds out, though. his fingers bloodied and going to leave prints on the bills.
Melinda May	May is juset as quick, snagging the man's bloodied hand before he can reach the money and bending one of the fingers back until there's an audible pop. "You have nine more chances to tell my colleague exactly what he wants to know. Leave nothing out, or I'll know." She's still speaking in that deadly calm, staring the man down with shark eyes.
Clint Barton	Clint grimaces, this sort of thing always made him uneasy. He glances down at the phone with the picture of Skye to steel himself and carry on with the questioning. "Ouch man, that had to hurt, but let's keep this simple and cut the bullshit, was she here and if she was who was she with?" He glances at May, "And my friend wasn't joking, she'll know if you're lying to us."
Skye Johnson	The man scowls, reaching for some napkins from the counter, shrugging away from the pair. "Yes. She was here. Her and a man. She sits with her laptop and this phone. I know because she does something with the phone and puts it aside. She forgets it later. But she doesn't use the laptop she brings. Just turns it on. The man, he buys coffee for them. And a danish. Two danish. One each. He gives her his laptop. This one. When she uses it, he comes around the table to sit with her and forgets to be quiet. He was very happy with something. She was not so happy."
Melinda May	May watches the man like a cat watches a mousehole, just waiting for another chance to strike at him. She's completely okay with letting Clint pose the questions.
Clint Barton	That level of detail, being spilled so quickly, it sounded like the truth to Clint. May too, he guessed, since she didn't break another finger. "What did the guy look like?" Clint asks, "And the girl, that phone she left, you got it?"
Skye Johnson	The man is clearly afraid of Agent May, giving her a sidelong glance before turning his attention back to Clint and nodding. "Under the counter. She leaves it behind with the laptop. They take one of those stick things - no, there were more than one. I remember. Because the man he gives her two I think. One when they sit down and she is still smiling. And another when she is looking unhappy about something. She doesn't pay a lot of attention to him but looks like your lady friend there. Like she's about to break his fingers." He says that in low and bitter tones. "Especially when he hugs her. She is not so happy as he is."
Clint Barton	Clint takes in the details, they'd need to mull, but it didn't seem like it was entirely a kidnapping here, but something was up. Also, Clint was a solid 80% on who the guy was and that though made his heart clench, when he considered the possibilities. "What'd he look like?" Clint asks moving behind the bar and ducking down to find the phone. It doesn't take long and Clint is pocketing the phone. When he stands he notes two things, first there was a video camera by the door, he turns his head on instinct, trying to not give them a full on view of his features, and two, the door was swining open to admit a quartet of hotel security men, each of the carrying themselves more like ex-soldiers than rent-a-cops. "May, time to go," Clint says as the security guys close in.
Melinda May	May simply stands there and stares at the man while he explains what he saw, ready to 'encourage' him further though he seems to not need it anymore. Then the security men arrive, and she nods to Clint. With one last look at the hotel manager, she lets the archer lead the way out. That way, if any of those security goons try to follow them, she'll give them reason to regret it.
Melinda May	May simply stands there and stares at the man while he explains what he saw, ready to 'encourage' him further though he seems to not need it anymore. Then the security men arrive, and she nods to Clint. With one last look at the hotel manager, she lets the archer lead the way out. That way, if any of those security goons try to follow them, she'll give them reason to regret it.
Clint Barton	Clint pockets the phone from behind the bar, then glancing around and seeing no other exits, he looks to May, "Only way out is through," he says nodding to the four men fanning out by the door. "Follow me," he says. Grabbing a bottle of coffee syrup he hurls it at the camera above the door, knocking it sidewise and splattering the men with the sticky brown fluid. A second later he's chucking an ashtray, one of those heavy glass ones, at one guy's head and leaping over the coffee bar to land on the other side. 5rThe ashtray is blocked, and Clint scoops up a stool gripping it in one hand as he stalks towards the men. The men in turn move towards Clint and May. Two of the four snap out expandable batons.
Melinda May	May nods to Clint. While he takes out the camera and starts with simple distractions she simply goes on the attack. The man that blocked the ashtray is her first target, aiming a fast jab at his throat at the same time as kicking at the wrist of one of the men that brandish batons. Plain batons? How quaint. Then again, the best weapon is the one you take from your adversaries and turn back against them. So that's what she's going to do, try to snag that baton away from the man she kicked out at.
Skye Johnson	al-Aziz usually relies on security, but back in the old country, sometimes a man had to take matters into his own hands. Behind the cash register, underneath the counter, next to the security button, is his backup protection, an old beat up Glock. Which he pulls out and trains on the pair of agents. May in particular. That woman is mea! That broken finger is going to be a bit of a problem, but how hard can it be to shoot with your opposite hand anyway?
Clint Barton	Ashtray guy hits the ground gagging on all fours, the baton guy loses his weapon, but dives after it trying to grapple with May and get to it first. Clint though, steps on the baton and smashes the security guy in the face with the stool sending him to the floor amidst a rain of kindling. Clint kicks the baton to May. That's when he gets clocked in the jaw, by the other baton. Clint's head snaps around and he spits blood before he comes back around and- "Gun!" he dives when al-Aziz come up with the Glock, rolling towards the fallen ashtray.
Melinda May	May clocks the gagging man in the back of the head to make him stay down and turns just in time to see Clint take down baton guy #1 with the barstool before kicking the baton toward her. She turns to face off against baton guy #2 just as Clint shouts, and immediately pivots to backhand-throw the baton at al-Aziz's head. Bad skeevy guy. Sit. Stay.
Skye Johnson	Now, May is likely a much better aim than al-Aziz, but here's the thing... he's shooting off-hand and more than a little terrified of what's going on. Sure, he's going to duck that baton, but he's also firing blind. With his off hand. Into the coffee shop. That's not going to look pretty on the AAR's.
Clint Barton	Ashtray guy goes down when May hits him. Baton guy #1 joins him when the stool hits. That leaves two guys up and a few panicking civilians when al-Aziz starts firing blind. A round hits the wall between two tourists and a second, hits the floor a piece of the bullet striking Clint in the leg causing the archer to curse. He still throws the ashtray though, aimed for al-Aziz's head.
Melinda May	Actually a bit hesitant to pull her own weapons and reveal that they're not just people searching for someone, May charges toward the man as he fires blindly. Yes, she's willing to risk taking a bullet to get that Glock out of his hands. Luck would have it that both miss her, but she's far enough away that he might get another shot or two out before she can get there.
Skye Johnson	Aziz has /no/ clue who he's dealing with. Right now he's fairly convinced he's caught himself smack in some sort of gang war. Whatever it is, the two stangers who wanted the laptop and phone are a step up from the calibre of disturbances that usually come up around the joint. He can't even remember having to pull the gun before, a thing his wife praised Allah for daily. She wasn't going to be so happy after today. He ducks, because there is that flying ashtray, and while it's not an arrow, turns out that Clint is a dab hand at aiming. And huge glas ashtrays are something of a deadly weapon. Still, the man can get another couple of shots off blind, his eyes barely above counter level, gun held at an awkward angle as he shoots. Tourists are terrified, but at least two are taking live video.. Remember that AAR problem? It just got worse. Fury is going to shit bricks.
Clint Barton	Clint's leg hurts like hell, and it doesn't improve when Baton Guy #2 stomps down hard on the wound. Blackness tugs at the edge of his vision as the pain shoots through him. Still, Clint kicks out on instinct, driving his heel hard into the man's groin. There's a whimper and the baton is dropped and Clint grabs it and slams it into the back of the guy's knee. He rolls to one foot and stands, favouring his bleeding leg and facing off against the last guy. The tourists with their cells out. He doesn't have time to deal with them yet, but they're getting some good shots of a bleeding Avenger square off against hotel security. That is until a stray round from al-Aziz's gun catches one of the tourists. Another hitting the wall beside the other one.
Melinda May	And then May gets to where Aziz is. She rips the Glock out of his hand, not caring if she injures still more of his fingers, then immediately turns it on the last security guy. She aims for a nice, fleshy part of one of his legs and fires just the once before dumping out the weapon's magazine, clearing the chamber, and throwing it at the last security guy's head. Regardless of whether she took the guy down or not, she rushes toward the tourists. Namely, the one that just got hit. Of course, since she's not voicing her intentions, it might look to an uninformed party like she's charging them to attack.
Skye Johnson	May's wrenching of the gun away from Aziz doesn't break another finger, but it does sprain it more than decently, the thing pulled awkwardly out of its socket and already purpling up. He's ducked behind the counter and pressing the security button - sure there's.. security?.. here, but more can't hurt, right? And are they really security?? Of course he doesn't know he's hit a tourist. He'd pull his own cellphone out, but two hands, both with injured fingers. He's down to using a coffee pot if it comes to it. And they're over on the counter opposite him. He's not moving unless he has to.
Clint Barton	Clint dives into a booth when more rounds start flying from behind the bar and stays out of the line of fire until he sees May has the gun and he bolts to the wounded tourist. The last security guy goes down quickly, clutching his bleeding leg. He'll live, but for now he's in a ton of pain. So's the tourist, though, the phone has fallen to the floor, still streaming, as they lay there blood soaking through their shirt and they make pained and pitiful noises. Clint grabs a jacket left by one of the other patrons who'd fled to the lobby and pushes it down on the wound. When May joins him, he looks over, "We don't have a lot of time. The phone is in my right pocket, get it and go. I'll do what I can for him," he nods to the downed tourist.
Melinda May	May gives Clint a hard look for about half a second, then snags the phone out of his pocket, pulls a few of those slim military-issue field bandage and hands them to Barton, then turns and bolts out of the establishment. She takes a very much not direct route to ditch anyone possibly following her, then heads toward their pre-determined safehouse. No telling if Clint will already be there when she arrives or not.
Clint Barton	Clint takes the bandages with a nod. "Good luck," he says and then gets to work on patching up the tourist, pointing up at the guy filming with bloody hands, "You, stop filiming and give me a hand." Out in the lobby, everyone is being rushed towards the doors and security is keeping their distance now that shots have been fired. Seeing May come out the doors she's ushered towards one of the exits and is out on the street when the cops and ambulances roll up free to head to the safe house. Barton doesn't get their first, but he does show up after about 30 minutes, a pair of handcuffs dangling off of one wrist and his pants cut off on the wounded leg to just below his hip, a fresh bandage wrapped tightly around the wound. Limping through the door, Clint shuts it quickly, leaning against it. "Well that was fun," he says.
Melinda May	May looks up at Barton from where she's seated with the phone on the table, her eyes going to the leg would immediately. At least he got it checked out before he slipped his collar to get back here. "This report to Fury is going to be horrible." There. It's been said.
Clint Barton	"Ugh, don't remind me,." Clint says as he limps his way into the room. "Though the cops are mostly looking for the six foot three inch white guy who saved a tourist, if you want to make a quick exfil and write the report be my guest," he says lightly before dropping into a chair with a sigh. "We get anything from the phone?" he says nodding to the device.
Skye Johnson	A quick check of the laptop shows it to be mostly trashed. It's been overwritten. perhaps not enough that nothing can be got from it in R&D (yay FitzSimmons!), but for hte most part it's a paperweight right now. The phone however...
Melinda May	"Not as much as we were hoping for. It's a burner, and was only used for one call." She really... doesn't know all that much more about hacking phones for information. She turns the phone so Clint can see the screen, where the singular call history is being displayed. "I've already called in a trace on that number, but it won't surprise me in the least if it goes to another burner phone."
Skye Johnson	It's true it's a burner phone. And for all intents and purposes, the thing looks like it's been factory reset. However, a closer look reveals that the protective case is ever so slightly askew. Likely Skye's just removed the SD card.. but what the hell would she have an SD card in a burner phone for anyway??
Melinda May	May is only too happy to let Clint poke at the phone. She clearly missed that the case was slightly off kilter. So instead she gets up to wander into the bathroom and then the kitchen while Barton tinkers. When she returns, she sets a glass of water and a small bottle of OTC painkillers within the archer's easy reach. "What'd you find?"
Clint Barton	Clint glances at the phone when it's shown to him, then beckons for it to be handed over for a sec. "Hmm, looks like it's busted too," he says poking at the case. His own phone a battered old Starkphone 5 had all sorts of problems with just about everything due to age and abuse so he sort of knew his way around these things from countless hours troubleshooting with Tony's call centre minions. "Huh," he says, looking at the SD card reader. "There's a card in this thing," he says. He pops it out with a push of his thumbnail. The make was familiar as was the tiny serial number on it beginning with SH for SHIELD. This is what he had been waiting for, Skye making contact. He almost knocks the card out of the reader in his hurry to slot it back in, then he's booting the phone back up and tapping at the screen while he waits for it to load. He looks up at May when she asks her question. "I think Skye is reaching out to us with this card. It's SHIELD issue. Why keep it on her if she wasn't trying to talk to us." Of course it could just have been what was handy too.
Skye Johnson	The card most certainly is SHIELD issue. And if it's plugged into another phone, it really doesn't seem to do much. But there are files on it. A number of them. Any attempts to peruse the files spits out requests for access codes, and otherwise remains inert.
Clint Barton	Clint frowns when the prompt appears. "Looks like it needs a password or something," he says to May. A dozen options spring to mind. Old jokes, names, things like that but knowing Skye and how she was about tech stuff, he figured it was proably random letters and numbers. Still, something comes to mind and he can't stop himself. He types in five letters C-L-I-N-T. to see what happens.
Melinda May	May leans a bit to see what the phone's doing, then does one of her expressionless frowns. "Let's get that back to base. Either the IT people will crack it, or Fury will know the access codes." Because if anyone does, it would be the Director. Also, it would mean making sure that that leg is properly checked by a SHIELD medic. Because as much as she's going to scold a year off of Skye's life, she also intends to make sure Clint is still around for that to happen. But then he tries putting in a password and she waits to see what the phone does.
Skye Johnson	C-L-I-N-T doesn't get him anywhere, sadly. But as guesses go, it was a good one. May's right, Fury would likely know. Or someone in IT. The laptop definitely could use a going over. And Clint's leg needs a good going over - where's Castiel when you need him, huh?
Clint Barton	Clint frowns as his guess is rejected he studies the phone there were a lot of options he could try, and if he knew Skye, they were going to only get so many before the data on the card was wiped clean. "No luck," he says to May before he turns off the phone. "Hopefully the IT can figure this out." He takes the phone and tucks it in his shirt pocket. The warmth off the thing's battery was comforting. Like somehow Skye was just a little bit closer. Not that he'd express any of that to May, instead he holds out an arm to get some help up. "You're right, we should get out of here before the cops are all over the place looking for us. Just give me a sec to see if any of the clothes SHIELD stashed here have pants my size and we can go."
Melinda May	Reaching to help Clint stand, May simply nods and gathers what she thinks they'll need to get clear of the city while Barton searches for a change of clothes. She's not anticipating needing much, but she pockets the bottle of painkillers anyway. Just in case.
Clint Barton	Clint finds what he's looking for in the closet, a pair of black fatigue pants in his waist size if not his leg length, they're a touch short, but miles better than the cut-up slacks he'd been wearing. He drops his old pants without any modesty and pulls on the fresh ones without comment. It was an op there wasn't time for embarrassment. Though he snorts slightly imaging Skye saying, 'oh my god, hotshot, did you just moon my training officer?' "Fuck," he says then, a smile crossing his lips. He pulls out the phone again and powers it up. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he says at it brings up the Stark-Fuijisawa logo as it loads. When it's open he taps the icon for the card and when prompted types in a new code: H-O-T-S-H-O-T. He crosses his fingers when he hits enter.
Skye Johnson	He probably could hear her saying, 'nice ass' along with a trademark smirk, too. H-O-T-S-H-O-T Things hang a second, and then there's a flicker across the screen as things start to unpack. All the files start spewing out associated data tags. The don't quite do a dump of themselves, but it's clear that he's not only gotten in, but that Skye's done a nice little number with a bit of trace/capture code. It had been a risk leaving it behind as she did, but looks like it paid off. When R&D and IT get through with it - or whoever Fury allows to touch it, it's the hack she pulled off in the Hilton. How. What she did. What she took. And best of all: the virus Miles plans on using in an emergency. Or at least one of them. But they've got something to work off of now, and maybe identify the source. Good job, Agent Barton.
Melinda May	It's probably a good thing that May's a professional, or she might have tossed a snark at Clint for Skye's sake. Instead, she just waits a moment then calls out from where she's repacked her go bag, "You ready, Barton?"
Clint Barton	Clint was too tired to smile when the password unlocked the code, but he did sigh with relief. It had worked and more than that, the code had been Hotshot. That meant something. She hadn't left him, not on purpose. It gave him hope and after so many hours without it, the feeling was better than any pain killer. There was work to done though, data to mine. He does up his belt and slips the phone into his pocket. He didn't need to tell May it'd worked he knew she could read it on his face so he nods and says, "Ready, let's get this thing back to SHIELD."