Owner	Pose
Berna	During the Cold War, Poland is where Russia sent captured spies to die. Poland and Hungary both were black holes to western intelligence agencies, they were meat grinders. Post cold war Poland's intelligence service had been disbanded and reformed no less than -six- times now, always the claim was that they were clensing the agency of "Cruel men". Only the man behind the curtain remained unmolested, serving in silence since the Polish revolution. The Intelligence service in truth remained largely untouched, and well if anything it got meaner with every name change.     Western intelligence called him "The Devil Boruta" after a Polish folk tale, but the man was real enough. Rarely photographed, met even more rarely. A man in stark contrast to the apparent cooperative bent Polish Special Forces operated under. In every BUDS class, Every Delta training course you couldn't go far without running into some GROM operative there for training. They'd fought in every conflict America had been dragged into, but the intelligence service who commanded GROM were ghostly indeed.     A sealed diplomatic pouch from the Polish Embassy containing a simple slip of paper had arrived days ago, "Your Polish relative will be in town Friday evening, he comes bearing treasure. 8PM local time." and not a word more. The first documented request for an audience by anyone in senior Polish Intelligence, much less one on American soil.     7:45 and a beat up Subaru drops an older gentleman off a mile away, Sheltered under his umbrella he walks through the rain before pausing at the gate outside. He pauses at the security checkpoint, offering the guard just a single polish "Penny" and a grandfatherly smile. A neat grey wool suit, almost comically thick cokebottle glasses and a neat woolen cap. The Man looks more like somone's very confused grandfather to be honest, which is probably the point."If you'd be so kind young man, Let the director know her elderly uncle is here?"
Clint Barton	Spies! Why did they always have to make thing so complicated! Sure, Barton was a spy but he wasn't a /spy/ if you took his meaning, he was more of a troubleshooter, as long as that trouble could be shot with an arrow. However Polish Intelligence reaching out wasn't something you could fob off onto one of the adminions, so, Clint Barton and his level 7 clearance had been conscripted to help. So, he's standing by when the man with the umbrella presents himself to the gate gaurd, "I've got this Davis," he says stepping up and flashing their guest a smile along with his badge, he was in civvies as usual, "Heh, didn't know the Deputy Director was adopted," he says about the uncle buisness with a smirk as he looked the man over for signs of concealed weapons. "If you'd consent to Agent Davis here giving you a quick scan with the metal detector wand we can get you on to your niece right away."
Berna	The old man gently pulls his suit jacket to expose the Korth wheelgun holstered on his hip, offering an almost apologetic smile. "Certainly young man, you may want to start with this. Theres also a thumb knife in my tie, lock picks in my vest pocket under the pocket square, and a fiber wire under my collar."And well he's not joking of course, and beyond a USB drive in his pant pocket the old man's clean. No wallet, no phone, no watch, not even a pocket watch mind you. No cell phone either of course. He offers no complaint at being disarmed at least.     "You'll forgive me, but I'm a little too old for fancy field craft these days. Haven't been much of a runner in a few years now, and theres no end of hoods on the prowl in this neighborhood."
Melinda May	When it's phrased that way, May isn't a /spy/ either. She's the sort that deals with what the real spies find in their spying duties. So this cloak and dagger clandestine pihua is at best irritating. But, she can't exactly turn away this high-ranking a member of Polish Intelligence, that would be a fatal error. So she's stuck playing along. Fury owes her bigtime for this, and as one small way of making Fury pay for this, she's taken over his office for the duration of the meeting. She's even brought in her tea service as well. Because. She gets word over the comms that Barton has met with the man at the entrance claiming to be her uncle, and she refrains from scoffing. Unless he's Chinese, anyone who sees the old man will know that's a complete and utter lie.
Clint Barton	Clint's smile is friendly at the man's straightforwardness. "Hey, I get it, nice to be straight with each other and get down to the brass tacks," he says before nodding for Davis to disarm him. "We'll give your stuff back on your way out, I assume we're going to want you to hold onto the drive?" he asks nodding to the device when Davis lays it out on the table. Figuring that it's delivery was likely the point of the visit. "Anyhow, once Davis is satisfied, you can follow me and I'll take you to see your niece."
Berna	"We've been great friends for a very long time young man, It's not Americans I worry over."And well USB drive retained he'll indeed follow along behind, and whilst the old man does have quite the pronounced limp? Well he's as silent as a cat, hat held in hand as he makes a point to follow Clint somewhat closely. This was not the time to go off exploring, unfortunately.     "Pity Nicholas is not about, I still owe the man a bottle believe it or not. I had hoped to repay, but such is the way of these things I'm afraid."
Clint Barton	Clint leads the way, tapping the com-unit built into his right hearing aid to call ahead. "We're on our way," before he replies to the man. "Glad to hear it, though that does beg the question of who you do worry over," Clint says as they walk. He knew the question would be answered later, but if he was a betting man that answer would be Russia. "And yeah, the boss is a hard man to pin down, but I'll send along your regards," Clint says. The trip through the Trisk is quick, the route planned to offer as little temptation to wander as possible, just into the lobby, through security, and then on to an elevator that goes right up to the admin offices. Reaching May's, Clint knocks twice, before leading the way inside.
Melinda May	At Clint's words over the comms saying they're on their way, May starts the tea brewing. It's all about timing, after all. The tea is finished steeping just in time for Clint's knock, and she moves to sit in Fury's honestly overlarge chair so that she seems all settled and patiently waiting when they enter. As they do, she studies the old man the archer has escorted in, expecting him to be dangerously intelligent and completely mundane in appearance.
Berna	"Thankyou for seeing me on such short notice, I apologize if I caused any difficulty."He offers a little smile, before well taking a moment to set both hat and suit jacket aside. Theres a shift there, before reaching behind under his vest to produce a small string bound booklet. "I did however bring a peace offering, and potentially an opportunity."He smiles again, offering the little booklet over. The tome is printed on some sort of rice paper, designed to dissolve rapidly of course.     "Igor Krasnov, working name Fyodir Chernysevensky. His working papers claim he was in America has an accountant for the Embassy. Well the man's a spook, but not for who you think." Boruta pauses to cough into his hankerchief, before looking for someplace to sit. "We ran into him in Venezuela, quite by surprise in fact. In any case Igor didn't touch base with the local Embassy there, he flew down on some corporate affair we're still looking into. So we have reason to believe he was not there with the blessings of Moscow, but cannot prove this. So we picked him up, and before you open that little booklet would you care to guess who he was cooking Russian Passports for?"
Clint Barton	The conversation wasn't his to butt into just now, but seeing the tea steeping, Clint moves to go check on it while he listens to the conversation. His bet, now that he knows the circumstance of the man's visit moves from Russia to Hydra. It was always Hydra... well except when it was AIM. Finding the familiar brew inside the pot to be ready, he interjects. "Tea anyone?" nodding to the pot as he turns over the three waiting cups.
Melinda May	May accepts the little booklet and sets it in front of her on the desk, choosing to not glance through it quite just yet. She listens attentively as he explains where he came by the information on the rice paper, and pretty much comes to the same conclusion as Barton. But, she doesn't reveal her suspicions. "A few names come to mind." She nods slightly to Clint when he offers tea, then returns her attention to the old man. "How do you and the organization you represent benefit from bring this information to SHIELD's attention?" Because she knows that there has to be some reason for Polish Intelligence to do so. Otherwise they'd simply keep it to themselves.
Berna	At the mention of tea, a hand is raised "Oh yes, please." And with that "The Department of Agriculture."He returns casually. "A front for somebody else of course, but the Department of Agriculture has a pest it would seem. He was siphoning intelligence from the Embassy to a pair of Americans going by "Bill and Tedd". Now I would offer Igor for your own interrogation, unfortunately the discussion in Venezuela was terminal. That booklet, contains his end of a one time pad. There are radio frequencies scribbled on the back cover, against procedure I believe."     Theres a little shrug there. "Oh we play ball with the CIA far closer than we let on, but lately? Well "The Activity" is proving to be increasingly leaky, and we can't continue to provide them with the sort've cooperation we have in the past. We have a very large, very real threat and we need friends to help us secure our democracy."     "So I do not know where this trail goes, or whom to or why. HYDRA is possible, of course. My own people think this may be corporate in nature, somone doing some insider trading on oil futures perhaps? In anycase we're not so crass so as to go off on a merry adventure in America, we're allies and we do try to act like it generally."Tea is sipped silently for a moment. "Now to demonstrate our desire for friendship, I have an asset I would like to offer to you. There are some conditions of course, but we're eager to be good friends."
Clint Barton	Clint pours the tea and hands it out without sugar or milk, definitely not that kind of tea. It's a fragrant and spicy blend that speaks for itself. That done, Clint takes a cup for himself and stands up against a wall. "Bill and Ted?" Clint can't help but remark. "Most untriumphant." That's it for the commentary though, except to look to May with a brow raising at the mention of offering SHIELD an asset. That was new and honestly surprising.
Melinda May	May takes her tea cup but doesn't sip from it. Yet. She nods slowly as he mentions a growing distrust in the CIA (she'd NEVER understand THAT, shyeah) and then the offer of an asset. "Do keep in mind, sir, that SHIELD is a UN organization. While it is true that primary operations are in the United States, there are still UN strictures and guidelines that must be followed." She finally takes a sip of her tea. "I would like to hear more about this asset you are offering."
Berna	"Home office believes we need a team scattered out of country, so if we do get invaded again they won't be ground to pulp in the first seventy two hours. We disagree, but Home office said so."Theres a little shrug at that. "She's a GROM veteran, Group C."The shadowy, counter-meta taskforce no less. "She's our senior sniper instructor, deployments alongside the SAS,DELTA, SAD and everyone else who matters. She put together most of the modern sniper school they're teaching to the GIGN these days, rewrote all of our course manuals. One of the better counter-terrorists we've had in the program, hugely experienced."And another little sip.     "There are complications of course, she died five years ago. Artillery bombardment in Ukraine, we were only able to save about seventy percent of her nervous system and almost all of her brain. Her abilities and personality are intact, and we've used some assets we need not discuss here to bring her back up to speed."And another sip. "There are some minor, psychological problems as a result of course. Some minor issues to be mindful of, but nothing that will effect her performance. She's a better operator now if anything, go ahead and plug in that USB stick?"
Clint Barton	There's a low whistle from Clint over his tea at the mention of Group C, he'd heard of them, seen the aftermath of a few of their ops, they were pros, no doubt and packed a hell of a punch. As for the sniper stuff, well that defintiely peaks his interest, but before he can comment there's the little bit about her dying and her brain and nerves being scooped up and put into... something? "Jesus," he exclaims. "So, she's what? Robocop?" he asked scrambling mentally for some sense of how what they saved could be made into a useful operator. He does however take the USB stick and plug it into a display, one safely removed from all of SHIELD's systems, it would just read the data and throw it up on the 40" screen it was plugged into responding to commands from a remote in Clint's hand. He spins up whatever file that he finds on it.
Melinda May	Thus far, May has been calm as a Vulcan as the old man has been offering intel and cooperation. His description of the asset on offer, though, earns him a momentarily quirked eyebrow. "While couched in a pop culture reference, Barton's question is valid. If this asset died, how is she a functional operative again?" She then glances at the display screen and whatever the USB has brought up on the display there.
Berna	"We do not enjoy the boundless budgets of many of our peers, and have a smaller talent pool to begin with. So we've invested heavily into, career prolonging technologies."He offers cooly. Up on the screen it's still frames from a video capture, the person's hardly identifiable as human. The cat scans, and X-rays to follow hardly look any better. Then without explanation, well she's whole again. Joints heavily reinforced, some sort of hardware in her chest, plenty more in her skull. The rest though seems, wholly biological. Then finally a series of more recent photos, a young woman surrounded by dudes with black bars across their faces. Her expression in every photograph however is the exact same, completely neutral.     "The process is experimental, We had to act about eight months ahead of scheduled trials. Her facial expressions and emoting in general can be difficult for her, she also doesn't heal like a normal person exactly either. Serious injury will require spare parts, and a technician. Otherwise she's been enhanced primarily with additional neural ports. Her visual center didn't make it off the battlefield either, so we built her a new one."Tea is sipped, casually. "She interfaces with a lot of sensor and coms gear directly, like extentions of her body. She can pipe down live drone feeds, or relay her own visual feeds in real time."     "Problem is she creeps people out, she comes off as rather robotic at times. Truthfully she did before this, just not to this extent. Some battle fatigue, Depersonalization Disorder, sleep disturbances. Well managed with some medications, infrequent therapy check ups."And a pause, as Boruta sits up. "Look when she was based out of Warsaw I was in a position to make sure she was socialized, and people who understand she's been through some things. I give somone like her over to the C.I.A, and they're going to let her go lone wolf until she falls apart. She needs a supportive work environment to thrive, and you folks understand "Different" well enough yes?"
Clint Barton	Clint takes a long sip of his tea while the images come up on the screen. It was better than pulling a face. He couldn't imagine having that much of well... him swapped out for machines. Not that he didn't feel for who it happened to, but damn, at a certain point you just had to let go. Lowering his cup, he nods, "So, after the procedure, her abilities improved? Even if she's a bit off-putting?" he asks trying to be more conversational than anything. He figured May would be coming in with the big questions.
Melinda May	The images displayed from the USB are, simply put, truly disturbing. And the woman shown alongside others is rather disturbingly reminiscent of someone else she can think of. And now May's glad she didn't tap Barnes to be here. He would NOT have handled this Well at all. She takes sips at her tea to give herself a moment to contemplate as well as regain her center of calm, then offers almost blandly, "Yes, we do 'understand different well enough'. You mentioned having conditions to assigning your asset with SHIELD. What are your conditions?"
Berna	"The program is focused on much, higher power augmentation capability for injured operators. In thise case it was decided that a world class Sniper, didn't need any more augmentation than was strictly necessary for the procedure. So she is stronger than she was before, but not by a major factor. She runs faster, for much longer. Her visual acuity is improved, she sees about twice as sharply as we do. The big enhancement is in her ability to plug into external sensors, thermal, Night Vision, Hyperspectral all whilst pulling down remote drone feeds. On the battlefield she has unmatched situational awareness, and thats the big enhancement here. The shooting, the fighting, well she's had two klick shots on records before all this happened."     And then well, May gets a nod. "You get a turn key tier-one operator, and all of her associated equipment in use right now. I will grant her access to the national intelligence database on an as needed basis, based on written request by you. Whilst she is assigned to you, I expect you to pay for her upkeep and equipment expenses. In return? Well if the Russians show up, or the political situation gets complicated I may need her on short notice. In addition I will expect her identity, and the technology she makes use of stays strictly confidential. Fair?"
Clint Barton	Clint takes in the bells and whistles of the operatives' new body. "Not bad, situational awareness ain't sexy like being able to benchpress a car, but I think all of us know what sort of asset it can be in the field." The bit about the two click shots get a nod from the archer. "What are they shooting now? Can you say?" his interest is entirely personal. Thoughts of a little range time with him this new asset and Bucky dancing in his head. What can he say? He likes a challenge. That was all conditional on her being let in the door though, so Clint keeps his excitment limited to a faint smile as he sips his tea but one May can likely read.
Melinda May	May glances at Clint, and she knows that hint of a smile. He's all gung ho to add to the collection of strays at Chez Miscreant, even if this one is technically only on loan. "I already have two of the best snipers in the world on my roster. Why would adding one more be that much of a boon to SHIELD?" Not a WORD, Barton. The archer can likely already tell May's going to agree to taking on this asset of Boruta's, but she's not going to just agree on the spot. It's bad negotiating.
Berna	"Because she was struck by artillery, because she refused to abandon her spotter."And well he lets that one fly, before pausing to sip his tea. "And if I may disagree? You have two of the best marksmen in the world, they are not snipers. I am offering you the very best there is, a woman who is detected only when she deems it convient. There are no others like her, and you would be foolish to let the CIA or DIA have her."
Clint Barton	That look is heard loud and clear and Clint takes a sip of tea to hide any further expression. Though he does have to nod, in respect to this asset's devotion to her teammate. "What would you say is the difference between a marksman and a sniper, if you don't mind me asking?" Clint chimes in curiously at the end.
Melinda May	"Refusing to abandon a no longer secure nest is not exactly a selling point. Especially as her spotter was sacrificed in the process. SHIELD greatly prefers our agents alive and intact over completing an objective at any cost." May finishes her tea and sets the cup aside. "I also have to as the same as Agent Barton. How do you distinguish between a marksman and a sniper?"
Berna	"The difference between a Fighter and a Hunter. A marksman shoots targets with great accuracy, and often great rapidity. A Sniper is a master of stealth, observation and battlefield intelligence who occasionally utilizes a rifle to hit a very distant target with a high degree of precision."Theres a pause to sip after his tea oncemore. "The sniper's radioset is more important than the rifle generally speaking, a drone can only tell you so much. Having somone who can track a foe under jungle canopies and pick faces out of a crowd from a thousand yards away, these are not skills you can teach. You either have it, or you do not."
Melinda May	May looks at Clint just as calmly as ever. "Barton, what was your last distance rating at the range?"
Clint Barton	Clint takes in the description with a simple nod. Though the question about his distance rating gets a raised eyebrow, as if to ask, 'are we doing this?'. "Two klicks last time I got down to our big range, might be able to do longer." He gives it a shrug to play it off as no big deal. He tended to hit what he was aiming at but at long ranges like that it became less art and more like going to math class, angles, weights, windspeeds... it wasn't his favourite thing in the world. "With a rifle of course, not a bow, I'm not Hercules or anything."
Berna	"Five against a stationary vehicle, aproximately half that against a human target. My understanding is that anything big enough to reach any further with any accuracy, becomes a logistical liability for a sniper team."and a slow sip. "If we're exclusively concerned about range, she's laser designated JDAMs and missiles out much further than that."
Melinda May	May nods to Clint and looks at the old man again. "I suppose we can find use for an asset with only a single useful skill set. But." Her expression goes ever so slightly more shrewd. "Your agency will continue to fund half of this asset's upkeep and equipment expenses." She puts her hand on the book, as if taking it off of the proverbial negotiation table.
Clint Barton	Clint reigns in any larger reaction to the assets abilities beyond a simple nod, but it's clear he's curious now. Like he said, he liked a challenge. "Hopefully I'll get to see her shoot in person," he says nudging their guest towards taking the deal May offered.
Berna	"Half medical and her personal upkeep, you're paying for equipment expenses. I expect you'll have a dramatically higher operational tempo, and money for arms across international boarders becomes a liability from the point of view of our regulatory framework. I cannot keep her in the deep black if I'm sending money abroad for guns."Theres an apologetic shrug there. "I can disguise money for medical expenses and check ups, but I'm not politically well insulated enough to pick fights with the budget regulators."
Melinda May	May actually doesn't mind the equipment expenses. She figures any gear that this woman arrives with will have to be supplemented to meet base SHIELD regulations anyway. Clint's comment is not missed. "Agreed. We'll be in touch to arrange the financial aspect. When can your asset be ready to travel?"
Berna	"Four hours, she's living in New York currently. The bulk of her equipment is in a Connex box in Fort Bragg though, you'll likely want to pick that up for yourselves. Be advised it does have an anti-tampering device, and does contain low order explosives."Yaknow like, a ton of gunpowder and grenades and all the sort've stuff you'd expect really. "I'll have her contact information forewarded to your office from the Embassy within the hour."Slowly the old man rises to offer a broad smile. "I should be going then, I've got a stop over with the NRO to try and get some things sorted out."He moves to snag his hat and jacket before pausing. "Oh and they call her "Sowa", incidentally. It means "Owl" in English."And a final little smile before, well off he goes!