What Happens in Maine

May 17, 2015:

Both undercover, Partisan and Shift have a chance encounter at an illegal weapons operation in Maine. Partisan sets Shift up for a little side work, while the Ghanaian tips her off that he's about to sell her out to get deeper into HYDRA.

Clear Pointe Fisheries, Maine


NPCs: Various market and dock workers


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

The Clear Pointe fisheries market, isn't where urbanites go to pick up fresh fish so they can play foodie for the day. It's where primo commercial buyers come to drop big dollars. On a Sunday morning the place is packed, with overall clad fellows in rubber boots and a whole lot of smoking and harsh language. This is also where starting in the sixties and the IRA, illicit arms have both come and gone from the country to ports abroad. Not that this shit happens out in public, no no there are backrooms for this sort of thing. Quiet "buyer rooms", where millions has changed hands for arms. Not that you'd know it looking at this cute little town, not that anyone would look past those adorable cape cod homes and gaggles of kids zipping about outside in neat yellow rain slickers.
Vera Babic then, isn't the sort've girl the media tells you is an arms trader. She's young, pretty and supposedly was a cheer leader before leaving for college this year, but her old man is the important part here. Ilija Babic, The Big Scorpion. One of the heavy hitters in the illicit arms industries and a Yugoslavian war criminal supposedly. He'd brought his daughter along a few times before of course, teach her the family business. So the rough looking longshoremen at the door just offer pleasant smiles, before letting her past the doors. There are all sorts here, buying and trading and making all manner of deals. Little Vera with her hair cut at the shoulders, even gets a whole lot of smiles.


Ever since being dropped off by Captain America in the Middle East, Kwabena Odame has been neck deep in one of the most black ops operations since Billy Costigan went undercover in Frank Costello's mob. That, however, was fiction. To the rest of the world, Shift is nobody; to his friends, he's gone darker than dark; to the President, his corpse lies interned in some top secret facility where shady government types are dissecting him.

Nobody knows that ever since, he's been infiltrating HYDRA. Slowly working his way to the top. This was simply one step along the way.

Stepping out of a semi truck in the loading docks, Shift carries two massive crates filled to the brim with illicit arms on each shoulder. His body has super solidified, making this feat particularly easy, though his boots fall with heavy thuds along the way. A jumpsuit bearing the 'Atlantic Industries' insignia is worn, but anyone in the know would recognize the HYDRA shell organization readily. He sets the crates down where they belong, then turns toward the bossman. "Boss. Taking a smoke break."

The boss nods his head. "Keep it quick, Odame."


"Fucking sausage fest in here, shit."She complains, slipping between buyers and sellers alike before stepping out a side door. It takes her a second, before she lifts her chain after Shift. "I'll pop you a twenty for a cigarette and a light, would you believe I forgot my pack in the car?"Neat dress shirt with a bright red bow tie, black dress slacks and a suit jacket. It's like, she looks like a fucking intern at a law firm if she was like ten years older. Still word gets around for sure, and well theres only one person in attendance even half her age. "I don't think I've seen you around before, you management or labor?"Shrugging her shoulders to slip out of that jacket, resting it on a nearby railing to expose the brilliantly polished CZ at her hip. Complete with pink pearl effect grips, no less and a prada print over that holster's shell.


Pulling the zippo back from his smoke, Shift turns toward the girl with a nonplussed look. "Ah you even old enough?" he quips, before offering his pack, lid open. Pops and hisses come from his body, which is steadily reverting to a normal state of flesh and blood. A small smirk forms at the edge of his face. Clearly, he expects the girl to bust out into fits of hacking and coughing as soon as he lights that cigarette for her. Nobody touches his zippo; the beat up thing has been through hell and back.

"Keep de cheese, doll. I get paid just fine." He arches an eyebrow when she asks if he's management or labor. Given the crates he's just carried, it ought to speak for itself. "Metas are always labor, 'til de bosses realize you're smahtah den dem." The cigarette comes out of his mouth, waved around a bit as the smoke is expelled from his nostrils. "Den dey try to hold you down, which is always a bad idea. Pecking ordah doesn't really apply when your skull no longah contains an intact brain."

A perceptive eye might notice the stands of a silver chain, draped around Shift's neck and tucked beneath the collar of his jumpsuit. Also, there's something peculiar about the whites of his eyes. Most people have red veins visible in them; his are inky black. That's different.

When the girl reveals her firearm, he raises an eyebrow. "Maybe I will have dat twenty," he quips darkly.


Partisan Accepts the smoke, and the light before puffing casually away. Shift gets a twenty, even if she has to stuff it in the pack. "I'm old enough, old man."turning to step away ever so casually, moving to unbutton her cuffs start rolling up her sleeves. "Your organization, not mine. We were always more concerned about jews and fucking muslims, never did get too wound up over mutants."Walking casually back to where she'd layed her jacket as she puffs. "I thought that crazy Partisan bitch had you boys all tied up in knots, can't be that hard to kill one bitch can it? I mean somone has to know where she sleeps, don't tell me this is all some pagent play. I want to be lied to, I'll attend my classes."


Well. That's interesting. An experienced smoker? "Yeah, well. What I undahstand is dat de work with mutants is done. Course, I'm just a cog. But you saw what happened with all dose drug spots. What you don't know, is we saw it coming. Dose fucking idiots have just caused a bigger problem for demselves, and dey got no idea it was all part of our plan." He shrugs. "Or, so I'm told. Eidah way, one door closes, you got to move or get crushed undahfoot. Weapons? Weapons will always be lucrative but it ain't corporate work, if you catch my drift."

Now, when the girl brings up Partisan, Shift smirks. "You'd be sahprised how hahd it is to kill someone." There…just might be a touch of a challenge in those words. "I know where she sleeps," he adds. "You think dat would get me some kind of bargaining chip for upper management? Cause, between you and me? I'm tired of hauling crates around like some goddamn cotton pickah."

Puff, puff.

"Got a name, kid?"


Partisan turns back around to lean up against the railing beside that jacket, lifting her hand to casually ash that cigarette aside. "Is that so, and yeah I got a name. The fuck you think you are to get it for free, you creepy fuck?"That arm, it's not enough that she's this young and has ink. Its the pattern, of red and black thats the issue here. It's not something you see used as a sleeve very often, only one other person has a sleeve quite like that. "Seems to me a man in your position, would benefit greatly from passing such information to his betters. So either that makes you a fucking liar, or a fucking idiot."


The Ghanaian bursts out into laughter when she refers to him as a creepy fuck. "Bitch, you ain't my style. Not into Anime girls, and not ones who could be my fucking niece." He takes another drag of his cigarette before settling his silver irised, tainted eyes upon her. There is a moment where he goes eerily quiet, eyes glancing toward the tattoos, before looking back to her.

Well. It's gonna have to get ugly, then. He did warn Steve, before this operation started, that if he's to infiltrate HYDRA to its deepest of places, he's going to need to do some very ugly things.

The Ghanaian looks Partisan directly in the eye. "How bout this, you cunting littah piece of shit. It's called patience. You don't waste good infahmation on low level slime. You hold onto it, until dere's a reason to divulge it. A time and place where it not only furthers the goals of your brothers, but elevates you to a position of critical importance. Nobody likes being expendable. When de time is right, dey will know where she sleeps, where she smokes her cheap-ass weed, and where she hides her arsenals. In de meanwhile, if dis Partisan girl knows what's best, she'll keep hah nosy littah ass where it belongs, and stop trying to fuck around with low levah arms dealers. World's a big place, bitch. Nobody's gonna notice you."


She seems all too cool for her age, which is a tip off too really. Her gaze holding Shift's silently as he speaks, before cooly blinking to glance away. Less of a staredown and more of, well that catlike casual indifference. "I can appreciate a man with a good head on his shoulders, who understands the value of what he has and the peril."Pausing there to ash her cigarette. "As we're in the same business, why don't I do you a little favor. You see the family business has a few openings, after I retired my parents."Which, confirms a lot of particularly brutal rumors. They said the bitch had gone so nuts on her own parents with a god damned carving knife, that they'd mistaken it for an animal attack. That or she had more connections than she was letting on, either way that shit is nothing to sneer at. "We have some openings for, temporary positions presuming your employers don't mind you grafting a little side work with one of their suppliers."Lifting a hand to her shirt pocket, before producing a little business card. Vera Fischer, Resturaunt owner. Yeah alright. "If they don't want that information, I may or may not know where an order they placed through my late father was diverted to. Of course you'd need to liberate the stock from customs impound, but for a man of your intelligence and ambition? I don't suppose that presents much of a problem."


Well. There is a chance that this won't come to fisticuffs, which is all the same to Kwabena. He made her. She didn't have to make him. Now there's that funny little business of why in the hell Shift is working with HYDRA.

Thing is, he knows Partisan is a smart girl. The way she responds helps him to believe that she'll keep his secret safe; and should she trust him enough, she'd know that he wouldn't really expose her without trying to send a heads up. Well, let this be her heads up. He fully expects she'll have her arsenals moved by nightfall, which means that when he does sell her out to HYDRA, he'll be essentially sending them to Dantooine.

"Side work? Tempting." Not that it wouldn't interfere with his plans, but… well needless to say, he's trying not to expose himself to people who would be sorely disappointed to learn he's working with HYDRA. Some of those people wouldn't react so tactfully.

Reaching out, the card is snatched up. "Ain't my first rodeo," he remarks. "Where you want me to send dis shit when it's freed from its littah vacation homein customs?"


Part reaches out, expecting another cigarette presumably as she flicks the first under the crush of her shoe. "She's from the same neck of the woods as my parents, and well rumor is she's already interested in me due to the sins of my father well before I was born. I tell you where to find their merchandise, you can take all the credit. You just remember who your favorite dealer is, and keep me out of it. I've got my own shit to deal with, I don't need your friends getting that crazy bitch all wound up."Theres a pause, as she glances back towards the sales floor. "How about, would you like a free sample as a token of good will? I have something you might find, useful and of course I'd consider it a sound investment to keep a new customer away from my competitors."
So yes, yes she's done this sort of thing before. "The unfortunate accident which befell my parents, have caused significant disruptions in our supply chain. It seems wise to placate a potential future customer premptively, ensure our reputation emerges from this strictly temporary condition intact."


Another cigarette is given. This time, a flask is produced and passed over. A little thank you, given what has just transpired. "Sure," he answers. "I promise not to use it for anything too terribly ugly." And with that, there's a rueful smirk.

"Odame!" calls the boss."Smoke break's over! Get your ass over here, we got another truck coming in!"

Kwabena's smirk broadens. "His will be pahticularly ugly," he notes quietly, before taking back his flask and pulling a snort. "Hail HYDRA!" he calls back to the boss, before turning his hand to smoke and snuffing out his cigarette.


She takes the smoke, before lighting up with a little sigh. "Out back theres a bright orange dumpster, between it and the wall will be something of use."She glances off towards the voice, before producing her cellphone and peering down to flip through the little device.


A two fingered salute is passed to the girl, before Kwabena armors his flesh up. "Back to de grind," he quips, before turning to rejoin his slave driver. There will be time to check the dumpster later; for the time being, he's got work to do.


It doesn't look like much, a ratty old Jansport backpack thats seen better days. Inside, well theres South African krugerrands, uncut diamonds, 2500 in small bills, two cellphones in air tight foil wrapping, a trio of brand spanking new Russian fragmentation grenades. A B&T VP-9, with a little holster, spare magazine and a box of 50 more rounds marked simply. "5/15/15 9mm 155Gr subsonic reduced signature" in sharpie. Seems the Partisan, yeah she does not fuck around.


A note is left behind where the backpack is snatched up some hours later. The note simply reads:

Keep it quiet. Clear your shit. Got 72 hours at least. (There is also a bit.ly link to a google maps site, where a massive warehouse is shown. One of Shift's little secrets, and a place that is currently empty.)

It seems that Shift plans to sell out Partisan to get deeper into HYDRA. At least he gave her a heads up. Her current identity, however? That one can remain their little secret.

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