Release the Drone

January 19, 2015:

It's time this Maui party got a bit more high-tech.

Maui - HI

This here bungalow is the temporary nerve center for SHIELD's operations on the island.


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

When the sun goes down on the Islands, it drops and there is darkness all about. The flames of artificial light do little to cut the dark, as if the jungle paradise simply demands to take over and there is little to be done to stop it. Exotic birds sing in the night, toads, and the jungles rustle, creating something of a harmony with the oceans as waves crash.

The darkness of the island makes it a perfect place to have a bungalo that isn't a bungalo; unless someone is reading a high-tech thermal imaging system with IR, they'll be hard put to know what is going on much less -who- they are. Still, keeping easily in character, Clint's stepping into the ops room in shorts, open bright red hawaiin shirt and barefooted. "Aloha?"


"Aloha po," someone chimes from inside. It means good later than evening but before midnight. Bobbi of course, she was always a whiz at picking up languages. She's wrapped in a sarong with sandals on, swinging in a hammock strung between two posts. There's a file folder closed on her torso where she clearly quit reading it.


Being persistently social is exhausting. So is the sun. And having drinks with half the people on the island. Which explains why Kate is currently curled up on the couch taking a nap, with the floppy hat she acquired to salvage some of the sunburn pulled low over her face. When Clint comes in, she stirs slightly, pulling the hat lower with a mumbled: "Puppy."


Speaking of high-tech thermal imaging, Hill's already at the bungalow with a datapad in hand. Six viewpoints have all been divided up in tiles across the screen with another six ready on 'page two.' There's a few small blips of color where they do indeed pick out some of the local wildlife, though nothing which strikes her as being noteworthy.

No vaguely human-shaped blobs so far.

"You're not fooling anyone, Barton," she flatly replies while reaching out for the fresh cup of coffee she's already assembled and placed within easy reach. She's apparently not quite willing to call it a night yet. There's work to be done!

Case in point, she taps the screen once more then drops it long enough to dart her gaze over the top of the pad, over to Barton first, though she's really addressing everyone. "-Two- more confirmed sick as of today. We've got surveillance posted around higher elevation forests. No pings so far." But the night is young. To her.


Clint is horrible at languages. 'Aloha' is easy enough; watch enough Magnum PI and there. Instant Hawaiian. All one needs to know. Blue eyes swing around, landing first on the picture that is Bobbi and then over to the 'in distress' Kate. A cup of coffee is grabbed first before wandering to perch on part of the couch where Kate lies curled. "Hey. Puppy's home."

It's the briefing that gains all of his attention, even if he puts a hand out to rest on a Kate body-part. "Okay, if surveillance isn't picking anything up and we've got another two down, then we need to take a look at surveillance." And Clint's the expert there. "I'm more than willing to do it up close and personal." A wry chuckle sounds and he looks right at Hill, "I've had much worse lookouts in worse conditions. I think the only thing that'd worry me is the wild parrots pecking me or something."


"Did we get anything off the swabs H2 took?" Bobbi asks, swinging lazily in the hammock. She's been in a splendid mood for two days now. Be afraid. Also clearly she's nicknamed Kate H2. She arches a brow at the "Puppy's home" comment before turning her attention back to Maria.


Kate lifts her hat at the smell of coffee, peering out blearily. Half-heard and repeated statements start to sink in, and she rubs at her face as she slowly sits up. "More people?" she echoes, setting the hat aside before reaching out to take the coffee from Clint. Head count. Clint, Bobbi, Hill. Updates. Right. Coffee.


"Nothing unusual so far," Hill replies to Bobbi first. "Though I did get an earful about how the samples weren't 'fresh' enough, like I'd want to run around drilling holes into every tree we come across hoping to get a little maple syrup around here. There's no telling how long those boards were sitting out in the open." Not that she's going to discredit the idea to take samples, more information is needed all around!

Barton's next. Here Hill gently slides the pad onto the table she's sitting beside, giving him that much more of her attention. "I'm so very glad that you offered, Barton. As it turns out we have a hell of a large area to survey and only so many eyes to go around. Earlier today I called in a special favor from our buddies on the Iliad. How'd you fancy spending some time behind the controls of a state of the art drone?" she asks with the slightest hint of a smirk. "Figured it was about time we gave the Hawk some proper eyes."

He's also appearing to be a lot more coherent than Kate. Besides, who would give the -kid- of the group the keys to the Ferrari? "On your four, Bishop." Where the coffee can be found, that is.


Clint knows Bobbi well enough to know there are only a couple of things that really put her in a good mood. A good fight. Good s- fight. He glances back at the languidly swinging biochemist and exhales in a quiet sigh. He reliquishes his coffee for the other Hawkeye, though her muzziness does concern him. That whole 'dehydration' thing can hit and one wouldn't even know it. As a trained Agent, he's very much aware. But

Clint rises to his feet once more and hits the sink, though he walks backwards to keep an eye on Hill and her briefing. Eyes have always been more important than ears, so when the water runs, he's easily reading lips. Once filled, he returns to the couch and is ready to exchange that coffee for water. "Drink this first."

There is no way Clint's going to miss that offer, however, and a lopsided smile graces his face. "Hell, I'll ride the damned thing like Dr. Strangelove if it'll get me over the area."


"And nothing off the USB drives?" Bobbi asks with a small frown. She seems disappointed that their labors produced no fruit. She swings out of the hammock with the elegance of a former gymnast, and makes her way over towards the group proper, to make herself her own cup of coffee. She stops near Hill and chuckles. "A drone? That sounds like you just gave Barton a ticket to Disneyworld."


Clint gets a long, dirty look from Kate when he tries to replace coffee with water, but she takes it all the same. If only because she's not going to bicker in front of Hill and Bobbi, when she's been trying to prove herself all week. "Maybe there'll be something that makes more sense from up high," she muses, taking a drink of the water.


"You wouldn't fit on top of this one and it's definitely not rated for the weight of your ego," Hill flatly informs Clint. "Think less 'MQ-9' and more 'hobbyist.' Something that can easily fly under the canopy."

Back to Bobbi, she says in all honesty "I don't have an update on that front yet. Hunter's in charge of our data-mining." She needs to find something to keep the guy busy with before he starts to give in to his other ..vices.

"The 'angry spirits' angle is starting to seem more plausible by the hour, feels like we're running in circles chasing a bunch of damn ghosts. If there isn't one hell of a storm to follow this calm I'm going to suggest to Fury that we torch the whole place and do a global reboot of the entire island."


Now that Clint's got his coffee back, he takes a swallow, making sure Kate's drinking her water. He feels for her, he does. Not easy. What started as 'hell on earth in paradise' for him seems to be turning into that very same thing for her.

Clint follows Bobbi's path to the coffee pot before he turns that same boyish smile back onto the DepDir. "Was just sayin'…" Oh, he's so there.

"I'm already cursed by gypsies. What's a few Hawaiian spirits going to do to me that hasn't already been done?" And, just in case things aren't clear, "When's first run? I'd like to get a map view of the place first," bird's eye view, "just so I know what's where."


"Oh, yeah, Hunter has been a little…preoccupied," Bobbi quips with a secretive grin, pushing her hair back behind her ears." She ponders a little. "Do we have anything we can use to do readings of the underground? If we're not picking up movement on land, maybe something is going on underneath it. Lava tubes could be all over the heights, and we may just not see them because of the foliage."


"I could still call that dryad back at the shelter," Kate offers Hill as she takes another drink. "For what it's worth, I'm pretty sure she's not affiliated with any other intelligence organization." Okay, that bit might be a little bit dry. Must need more water.


"Yeah, and now I'm 'just sayin,'" Hill counters before reaching back for her pad. She doesn't hang onto it for long, pulling up a map of the area then holding it out for the man. "By all means, study the hell out of it. I'd like to get the rotors in the air as quickly as possible."

With the pad being passed off she looks back to Bobbi, "I'm sure the techies can come up with something. In addition, I'd like to expand tests to include the local water supply. No solution in sight, change sight."

The next comment from Kate, while more coherent than some of her previous musings, is grounds for a question in response. "I don't know, Bishop. Did you run a full background check on her already? I don't like to work with 'pretty sures.'"


Clint looks back at Bobbi and stares at her for a long moment. There's a moment when the muscles beneath the loud print shirt stiffen and he's a touch more interested in what's in his cup than anything else at the moment. "Good to know he's taking advantage of everything this op offers." Now if Hunter would do his job?

"Kate, we got this. Honest." They've never had to call in a supernatural team, and there is no way Clint's going to now. Call it ego, sure. But he needs to be down and in the hospital before he'll even consider help. And even then? It's not a sure thing.

At least now Clint's got something to look at, rather than a grinning Mockingbird. He grabs the pad and starts to look around; elevations, topography, and layer by layer, he takes trees apart until he's looking at dirt and then rebuilds it all.

Wandering back to the couch, Clint sit down heavily, his attention firmly on the datapad, coffee in hand even forgotten for a few. Need to memorize things, and if that way something shows up that wasn't there… it doesn't belong.


"I dunno, Director, we go on 'pretty sure' here and there. Sometimes we even go on 'hunches' and 'wild goose chases'," Bobbi quips, sipping her coffee and leaning against a counter with a grin. "But that's usually in the field and on the fly. Security first," she notes for Kate's benefit. She watches over Clint's shoulder, her keen eyes working as back up for him.


"Hey, your boat," Kate shrugs. "I just figured you might want to cut down on the dying, is all." She takes another drink of water, slowly starting to actually wake up after her nap. Not that she isn't still wincing, rubbing a hand at her brow. Too much sun and rum at a go, most likely. "That guy at the lumber yard seemed pretty sure whoever was at it would get what was coming."


Point to Barton. "The Division has managed to successfully do its job for longer than any of us have been around. We're not about to be beaten by high levels of ammonia," Hill agrees. For his benefit she inclines her chin across the room, saying "Camera access starts on the next page. Not a lot to see now but we've got some daytime shots in there."

Then she just has to breathe out a weary sigh, rolling her head, and her eyes, back over to Bobbi. "Please don't encourage her young, impressionable mind."

Kate's next. "No one's actually died from this illness yet..have they?" Here she passes Bobbi another questioning glance. She didn't think anyone had been killed yet but it's always possible that she missed something.

She doesn't leave it at this, noting the younger archer's clear discomfort. Hill keeps her thoughts to herself for the next moment, unlacing her hiking boots and pulling them off just so she can let them drop down nice and loud on the hardwood flooring.

"If you're looking for things to cut down on, you might want to start with the hard drinks."

Her other comment isn't missed. 'Get what was coming.' This one seems easy enough to tackle. "Looks like Romanoff's going to have some work to do here, after all."


Clint's finding himself more and more ready to go into the field where he doesn't have to do anything but think of the op. Even working out what he's seeing comes as an afterthought. He's got surveillance down to an art and there are very few who can do that like he can.

"Far as I'm concerned, I can grab my bow and be in place within a half hour." Clint finishes his coffee, rises and crosses the short distance to put his mug back, now trying to ignore Bobbi. Childish, sure… but this is his part now. And there's this heavy lump in his chest. "Kate, before you go anywhere, drink more water. Best place for you is probably bed right now." Too much sun and too much rum is really easy in locations like this.

Blue eyes turn back to Maria, and his words are even; professional. "Just radio up that I'll be there to take possession."


Bobbi sets her cup down and stretches until her back, then her neck cracks. She winds her hair up into a tail and pulls a scrunchie on to secure it. She gives her head a little shake at Hill, no deaths yet. "There was one close call, but he's recovering now," she notes. She watches Clint turn into a little stormcloud and both brows rise.


Kate flashes a thumbs up in Hill's direction. Probably not her preferred finger, but the safest one, considering the preferred finger is useful for bowstrings. Rumor has it that's the origin of that little gesture. "I think I've pumped all the tourists and nearby locals I can, honestly," she admits through another sip. "I go digging for much more and it's going to start looking like I'm looking for something."


No deaths confirmed, excellent. Hopefully this trend will continue before things get too out of hand.

"You're closer to the controls than you realize," Hill informs Clint with a thin smirk. "Part of 'state of the art' includes having a full piloting suite neatly tucked into a device about the size of a Lenovo. I've been promised that it could be controlled from any point on the island while maintaining full land-based coverage. You could fly this thing while catching a wave, 'dude,' though I'd really prefer that you not try to."

Kate's update is given a nod. This time Hill's scowling not at the archer but at the situation. "Which means I'm going to need to find something else for you to do soon." Well, there's always Widow… God knows it never hurts to have an extra sniper on your side.


Clint's got his pad, and if this is what Hill is referring to, he's got the drone controls. Brows rise as he crosses back the couch and perches on the back of it, his finger swyping until he digs out the screens he wants.

Oh hey, here's where Level 7 comes in handy! Name. Password.

His tones remain so very even, neutral. Professional. "Yeah, Kate. You'll be surveilling with me. You know, like we do back in Brooklyn. Coffee. Watches. This is where it gets real." As if all the training isn't? "You have to get yourself hydrated first, though. I'm not gonna have you falling out of a tree."

Clint glances first at Bobbi then Maria before he nods. "I'll be trying some shooting from a board first. But I think that'll be on my last day in. Just to say that I did it."


"What do you need me to do, Director?" Bobbi asks Hill as she reclaims her coffee. She keeps a weather eye on Clint because he's acting off. At the mention that Kate is his go-to for field work she smirks. "Or is everything in hand here and I can go get a massage at the spa?"


"I'm hydrating," Kate drawls dryly to Clint, taking another pointed drink. And another one. Before she looks to Hill, pointing a thumb at Clint. "Can I look at it, or should I go get a massage with Bobbi?" There is absolutely no telling who's actually winning in either of those scenarios.


There's just certain moments with this job… Hill sits there with a goofy smirk as Clint looks a little deeper with the pad she gave him. Sometimes she wonders if this is how a parent feels on Christmas morning when their child gets the one item they had been coveting all year. The spark in the eyes. She tries to repay hard work, she really does. It doesn't always work out that way, buuut…

It only takes her a moment to consider Bobbi's question and make up her mind on the matter. "I wouldn't want you to have a stress-related injury after digging through all of those medical records, Morse. Take a breather." And a massage! They're supposed to be stellar around here. "Though if you happen to see Hunter I'd appreciate if you extracted an update from him."

Kinda like extracting a molar.

Kate's still the odd lady out. She has, in fact, -zero- SHIELD security clearance. Nothing. But, so long as the screens stick to pretty island scenery depicting temperature and elevation changes…

"Barton?" she asks with one of -those- looks. 'Can I count on you to clue her in without revealing too much?' Isn't that what he's been doing ever since he and Kate first met, for that matter?


"Bird's in the air," Clint murmurs, and he's both watching the screen and headed for the door. "I'm sure Bobbi won't have any problem extracting anything from Hunter," is called back. "Kate, unless you really want to go for that massage with Bobbi, you're with me. Like I said before." He's a bit… short. "Bring water with. Wherever you go."

Clint's at the door and nudges it open before he puts a leg on it to keep it open briefly. "I'll be sitting at North 20, West 156." There's more, but at least it gives -somewhere-.


"I'll do my best to extract…something from Hunter." Bobbi grins. Is Hill playing dumb or has she really not figured out that the warring exes have raised a flag of truce, at least in the bedroom? "I'll see about getting a massage. Maybe I'll make Lance do it. Lord knows he should do somework on this mission." With that flippant remark, she sashays her way towards her bungalow, humming merrily.


Kate sighs as Clint and Bobbi head their separate ways, standing up to go and refill her water. "I'm gonna go knock some sense back into him," she murmurs to Hill, heading out to follow Clint.

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