Romero Uribe

June 30, 2015:

Steve Rogers takes Pezzini and Simmons to Bogota to apprehend Romero Uribe



NPCs: None.


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…


A middle aged local man with fading salt and pepper hair, neatly groomed facial hair, and wearing a clean white dress shirt with an ornate cross upon the back is carrying his three year old through the air port. Dragging his carry on behind him, the pair have their boarding passes and are ready to take the long flight across the Atlantic Ocean to Spain.

"Papa," says the three year old as she nuzzles tiredly against him. The rest of her Spanish words are drawn out as they get closer to security.


Captain America sits in the back seat next to Agent Pezzini in the back of a black SUV. Jemma Simmons is at the front, and behind the wheel is a local drug enforcement agent. The vehicle hurtles through the bad part of the city, and the Captain is handing out pictures of a man in his middle 40s, shaved head, and a tatoo running up his neck. "Romero Uribe, head of the Flota Syndicate. He's rumored to be surrounded by thugs. Always armed, always dangerous. Simmons, you're going to be our eyes and ears, getting us whatever intel you can with whatever you brought with you. You don't leave the car. Pezzini, you and I will approach from opposite ends."

Cap's taken to his darker duds tonight, wearing a midnight bluew and silver ensemble, complete with darker helmet.


"What's our goal here?" Sara asks as she flips through the pictures, marking the man they're after as well as the people around him. "Are we bringing him in, taking him out, trying to pick up his supply line?" She's wearing the standard SHIELD-issue protective gear as she ever does, despite the protection offered by the Witchblade. Trusting it to protect her is one thing. Expecting it is another. No harm in preparation.

Getting out of New York is probably a good idea for the biochemist at the moment… Sitting in the front seat of the SUV, she takes the photo's that Steve is handing around. "Uh, no, I don't have any questions. Fitz has given me some of his newer inventions too, so I should be able to get you intel." as to leaving the car, she has no intention too but she'll use her judgement there.


The man passes through security just fine and makes his way towards the gate, his daughter now in tow. They're here early—a man sits facing the tarmac, watching as the airline crew gathers the baggage and readies it for the plane trip that he will never be on. One of the workers pulls out his radio, nods, and radios back in. He reaches to remove one of the bags from the stack.

< Mr. Pedroza? > says a man in an official police uniform of green. < We would like you to come with us for a routine check >.


"We're here to arrest him. Taking him alive is the preference, although not completely necessary. His family will be there with him. I'd really like this to go as smoothly as possible, but we're here because it probably won't. Be ready for submachine gunfire." Cap says soberly. "Our intel says there are three stories. Main floor, upstairs, basement. We don't know where he sleeps, or if he would even be asleep now, despite the hour.

Cap looks out at the night sky, and hopes they're not rushing into this.

Sara nods, passing the photos along once she knows what she's looking at. "As long as I don't have to stand in front of it for too long, I should be able to handle that," she muses. It's isn't exactly something she's been testing. "Sadly, I'm too old for the call girl ploy," she adds with a faint smirk. "Have to find someone else to play that game." She gives Cap a look, quirking a brow. "You back to one hundred percent after last time?"

"With what I have here, I should be able to shut down the security systems." Jemma, although not as proficient as Fitz still has some skills there and really, Fitz's protocols are excellent. "I can also get access to the video feeds in the house, which will tell us where he is." Patting the briefcase on her lap she smirks a little at Sara's comment "Bags not it, Agent Pezzini."


In a back hallway of the airport, the young girl is screaming for her father. She's in the arms of a police woman, while a group of officers begin opening false pockets of Andres Pedroza's bag.

Inside, nearly 250,000 dollars worth of cocaine.

Pedroza is crying, albeit more quietly than his daughter.


"No," Steve says with a shake of his head before his blue eyes meet Sara's. "I'll be alright though. You know. Serum." Steve shrugs as if it's not a big deal, but he is certianly only at about 70 percent, and hoping that his stitches hold.

"No ploys this time around. We go in, clear rooms, find Uribe, and zip tie him. In and out. We'll have air support via helicopters and the Colombians will be on scene shortly. We have to wait to inform them—90 percent chance there's a rat inside that office."

Finally, they pull up to the compound, about a block up on the right. Steve gives a final nod to Sara, grabs his shield from the trunk and opens the door. The shield goes upon his back. "Pez, I'll go back door, you go front door," he mutters as he slips into the night.

"Try not to get more shot," Sara smirks back at Cap, nodding to Simmons as she slides out of the car. "Give us a call if you see anything that strikes you as weird." As Cap heads for the back door, she starts toward the front, pulling out a handgun in one hand and a flashlight in the other. The Witchblade glimmers on her wrist, just a few tendrils over her fingers and forearms for now. It may want to protect her, but drug dealers aren't exactly its usual prey.

When she reaches the door, she gives it a knock with the flashlight. She doesn't call out - her Spanish isn't exactly going to fool anyone.

As the two field agents slide out of the car, Simmons opens the briefcase in front of her and starts up the SHIELD laptop. Glancing at the driver briefly, she then looks back to the screen, tapping her communicator "Agent Pezzini, Captain Rogers. Acquiring security feeds now." It takes a few minutes for Fitz's protocols to run and then she's in. "Not in the Basement. Not on the ground floor…. that leaves the third floor, but I can't see the bedrooms. 12 armed guards. No sign of the family, but they may be with him."


<We've put your daughter in Child Protective Services> says the chief investigator to the weeping Andres Pedroza. <What happens here tonight is going to decide on whether you see her sooner or see her later. We want names, Pedroza. We want names and we want arrests, and if you're willing to work with us, we can talk to the lawyers.>

Pedroza is crying so hard he can't speak, but he nods as if to say that he'll play along.


The light comes on inside the compound and a young man, maybe 20, opens the door and looks Sara up and down.

<Whatchu want, lil hottie> he says as he gives Sara an upwards nod. He apparently likes what he sees.

Meanwhile, Steve enters through a window once Jemma gets control of security, knowing that she will likely be able to prevent any alarms. Two guards are taken by surprise and by the time they lift their guns they each get a shield to the face. No machine guns, but the clangs do bring a third who gets a knifehand to the the throat.

Jemma's concentration will likely be taken from the task at hand when the glass on the other side of the window explodes as does the head of their driver. The car is under attack!

Sara Pezzini is too old for this shit. Or something like that. The man opens the door, and she follows through with a solid kick to it to push him back, following inside and rapping the butt of her flashlight to the back of his head. "Simmons, you okay back there?" she asks at the sound of crashing glass, though she can't take the time to go back right now. She's got at least one guard to deal with, and there's no telling how many more will be coming.

It's the ichor that registers first for Simmons. The ichor that splatters across the side of her face… and then the sound of the shattering window. It might have occured the other way round, but that's what she's registered.

There's not much in terms of shrapnel, safety glass has a way of not doing that, and Simmons scrabbles to undo her seatbelt and throw her own door open. SHIELD training must count for something - as she rolls from her seat, she protects the laptop to the best of her ability and grabs the bag that was stowed at her feet.

Hitting the ground with a thud and a 'nngggghhh' sound, she gasps into her comms "I …. I'm ok Agent Pezzini, but I'm not in the car anymore. I'm getting under it, if I can." Good or bad move?

Sara slams into the gangbanger and knocks him across the room. There are three others in that main room, meaning that there must be seven downstairs, sleeping. They must r. Wait. Wouldn't it be six an s The bathroom door bursts open and a man with a machine gun is about to light Sara up like a Christmas tree, but he gets a big view of the White Star just as he pulls the trigger.

Steve slams him with his foot and the fool goes flying back, smashing into and breaking the toilet.

"Go after Uribe, I'll hold off the rest of the guards downstairs.

1 against 6? Pfft.

Lucky number 13 is going through the truck quickly and assumes that Jemma took off into the night. She'll never survive, he presumes, and he has no idea that she is under the truck; her words to Pezzini were muffled by him rummaging through and the moans of the Colombian driver.

"Simmons might need you if you get bored," Sara calls back to Steve, already breaking for the stairs to start clearing the upper stories and search for the target. She keeps her gun up, but a little more armor starts to creep over the SHIELD gear she's wearing. She moves sideways up the stairs, gun and flashlight ahead of her, sticking close to the walls as she moves down the hallway.

Simmons MIGHT! But… she has been trained by Agent May and she's not going to let that venerable lady down. Working an ICER pistol out of the bag that she grabbed, the biochemist lays as still as possible under the vehicle… if they don't know she's there she might not have to do this… If whoever is going through the truck looks under it, they'll get an ICER shot to the face.

"On it," Steve says as he bounds down to the basement and shortly after, gunfire can be heard up on the floor that Sara finds her self on. A door opens, darkness behind, until a young boy, maybe 8, looks at her with wide eyes.

The thirteenth soldier is finished making sure that the driver is dead and walks out into the street to see what happened to the other one. He stands there, calmly, and reaches down to his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He obviously has no clue that there's anything going on a block to the north.

Sara raises a finger to her lips when she sees the boy, jogging a few steps closer to that room to check inside. The sound of gunfire gets a moment of consideration, just enough to keep her moving more quickly. There's nothing for her to do down there, but she can search up here, and try to make sure no children are harmed in the process.

Hearing the soldier walk away, Simmons edges her way to the side of the vehicle to look. Seeing him headed back towards the house where Steve and Sara are, she takes aim with the ICER pistol… maybe she'll stop him. At least, whilst she's laying prone, she's likely to get a better shot off.

Taking aim, Jemma slowly squeezes the trigger… closing her eyes at the last moment …. Agent May would just roll her eyes at that.

There's another girl sleeping in the bedroom who stirs as Sara sees her. Must not be this bedroom. There's another directly across the hall

"PAPA!" yells the kid, and his sister wakes up and immediately begins crying. "PAPA! <They're here!" the boy screams.

Miraculously the shot flies true and knocks the Colombian gangbanger where he stands and he crumbles into a heap! The night then goes cold and quiet, and to Jemma it's not clear what's happening upstairs, or downstairs.

Well, it was worth a try. At the shout from the boy, more armor forms around Sara, just in time for her to grab the nearest piece of furniture to pull out behind herself and set against the door in the hallway. That room is clear, and at least she'll know the kids aren't going to run into the line of fire anywhere. Gun up, she moves toward the door across the hall, standing near the side of the wall as she leans over enough to push it open.

Pulling the laptop closer to her, Simmons tries to find out what is going on inside the building "Agent Pezzinin, Captain Rogers. Our driver is dead and I've taken out the soldier that did it. What do you need." She can put a call out to Agent May to come and extract them if needed.

There's a scream as Sara opens the door as Uribe's wife, naked, pulls the sheet up over herself. Romero Uribe, however, is leaving out the window just as the American woman comes in.

Outside, Uribe's mostly naked body falls upon a canopy over the carport that gives the family shade in the courtyard.

He bounces down and gets up quickly on the grass, needing to pull the back of his boxers up as he does so. From there to the gate as he tries to get out to the street.

Simmons sees a house full of soldiers who are knocked out. Bodies strewn unconscious on the main floor, and a pile of 6 down in the basement of them stacked upon each other.

"Get the car running," Rogers radios back.

"Oh for Christ's sake," Sara mutters as the man goes out the window, making a dash for it herself to follow after. "Uribe's gone out the window, headed toward the gate," she calls. "Simmons, keep your eyes open." Sara pauses long enough to see what's under the window, then jumps out after the gangster. At least she's got a pretty good idea of where he can hide anything he might be packing at the moment.

"Get the car…." Simmons blanches as she crawls from under the truck…. dragging her laptop and bag with her. Leaving them on the ground, she opens the door and drags the body of the driver out. He's much, much, larger than her and as he falls, she stumbles before being able to step out of the way and let him slump on the ground.

Gathering her things, she places them in the cab and clambers in, careful of any glass that may be on the seat… trying to get the engine running. She does, with a minimum of effort.

"He's coming my way, Agent Pezzini?" The ICER pistol is back in her hand and she peers into the gloom trying to spot him.

And then Jemma sees what is likely something she did not expect tonight. A man matching the description of Romero Uribe, running in boxing shorts, right to her vehicle.

Sara gives chase and arrives out on the street soon thereafter, followed by Steve Rogers. Looks like everyone is runing towards good old Jemma!

"That'd be him in the boxers," Sara answers Simmons as she runs, keeping her gun up but reluctant to use it. Shooting a guy who's running away in his boxers is just bad work. "Uribe, on your knees!" she calls after the man. No one can say she didn't try to follow procedure. "SHIELD, you're under arrest!" Totally and completely by the book. See, Congress?

Oh good… just what Simmons needs … a nearly naked man running towards her. Sliding out of the vehicle again, she plants her feet and holds the ICER pistol in a weaver grip. Steve said take however they can… and the 5'4" woman is not going to try and physically restrain a person.

Squeezing the trigger, one more time, she aims right at the guys chest… hard to miss…. and it doesn't matter where the round hits, the dendrotoxin will still be effective.


With as much product as Uribe moves, he knows that if he's caught, there will be serious, serious consequences. He ignores Sara, but can't ignore Jemma's shot right to the chest.

By the time Steve arrives, it's all over. "Nice shooting, Jemma." He does a double take, as if not quite believing she had it in her. "Colombian strike team should be here in 20 seconds. They'll take care of the driver. Are you hurt?"

About 4 minutes later, the entire ordeal is over and another drug kingpin is apprehended and awaiting a tria

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