Venomous Deadzone?

July 13, 2015:

Agent May briefs Cadet Thompson on the Dead zones

The Triskelian - New York


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

It's been some time after the incident with the Purifiers. Cadet Thompson had gotten a clean bill of health a handful of days after it, what with the symbiote's ability to regenerate. But it took a little bit longer for the psych profile to be built to make sure he hadn't suffered any ill will or after effects from the torture, as heinous as it was. Perhaps it was due to his inability to recall the matter, or perhaps he simply has had a decent past in suppressing such memories. But the clearance for him to resume light duty was easily given by those in the know.
Field work, on the other hand, that one might not come quite as easily. So he'd spent that time, when not tasked with something else around the Triskelion, to hone his skills. The gun range had seen quite a bit of work, as well as the advanced weight training system. For the time being life for Flash Thompson had been get up, do his duties, then train, then to bed. All one after the other.
But today is different. Today he's wearing the standard business casual needed for the around the base office duty but he'd been told to stick around comms and be open for meetings should they be required. So his slate was clean, just on the off chance he'd get such a hail.

And sure enough, finally there is just such a hail. And it's from May, no less. The message gives a time and a conference room number, asking for him to meet there. Well, as close to 'asking' as May ever gets.

The conference room is one of the small ones, and Simmons is already there with May, the pair clearly sharing tea from a thermos on the table.

Simmons shoulder, bruised from using the sawed off the other day, has healed although she does move a little more gingerly than usual. Sipping slowly from the tea, Simmons reviews data on her tablet as she waits with Agent May.

Once the summons comes it doesn't take him too long. Not quite as much rush as the last time as there was some leeway then to zipline up a stairwell. For now he has to settle with walking at a brisk pace along the hallway and towards that meeting room. Once there he pauses before it, raps his knuckles upon the door, then steps inside a moment later.
Upon entering he looks from Agent May to Agent Simmons and gives a short nod to them. "Agent Simmons, Ma'am." As to why one is an Agent and the other is a Ma'am, who can tell? Probably some arcane decision making process or perhaps it's just more likely that he's a little more intimidated of May.

Melinda May looks toward the door when someone knocks, then nods to THompson at his greeting. "Please have a seat." As soon and Thompson is seated, she nods to Simmons, who has the dubious pleasure of controlling the informational displays. "I'm guessing you've heard about the situation in Delaware by now, Thompson."

"Cadet Thompson" Simmons raises her head as the Agent enters and brings up the displays on the screens. The first imagery shows a macro view of the area, dead, nothing growing and the miasma that covers the land. The images cycle through what could be described as bgrade horror show, and that's just what's scene from the outside. It hasn't covered what they saw when they entered.

Stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him, Flash steps around the two other agents and finds a seat that puts him in a place to look upon them easily. He rests his hands upon the tabletop, fingers interlaced as he looks at the screens and the displays, then looks back to May and answers evenly, "No ma'am, I believe I've been out of the loop a bit." No reason to state exactly as to why, naturally.

Melinda May pushes a clean mug and the thermos toward Thompson slightly, wordlessly offering him some tea. "As those images imply, the area around and including the municipality of Townsend, Delaware has become the epicenter of a very complex bit of necromantic work. Or so I've been told. The area has been closed down by both SHIELD and the regional authorities, but there are still pockets of civilians trapped inside as well as the occasional amateur trying to play hero."

The next set of images that Simmons displays includes those from the action they undertook the other day. Zombies, Skeletons and a Bone Golem, shrouded by the miasma that was evident from the distance. She shudders a little and winces slightly as the bruise on her shoulder pulls.

There's a short sharp nod given and instantly Flash can see several ways his particular talents can be utilized in the situation. The first one, however, that springs to mind is to aid those that might be trapped within the danger zone. "You want me working the interior, ma'am, S&R on the civvies?"
He shifts in his chair as he looks over at Melinda, but his gaze drifts to Simmons and she can probably tell he's giving her a once over. That wince might have given the hint of a tale that he'd be inclined to hear. But then again with such scary creatures as zombies and skeletons… maybe it's best he not know exactly.

This is why May picked him to work under the WAND umbrella. "Yes. S&R as much as possible, and support the perimeter teams when you can. And no overexerting yourself. The chances of find anyone that need urgent assistance have already hit zero. Understood?"

Simmons see's the look and looks a little sheepish "Agent Manning gave me sawwed off to use instead of my ICER pistol. It had a bit of a kick to it." Which implies, she not only took the weapon - she used it.

She's been doing some research of her own from the incident "From what I can see, check the churches and other hallowed grounds first. Those there may have a slightly higher chance of being alive." But only just.

It's pretty clear that if he had his druthers, Flash would be up and away right that moment. Too many hours cooped up, not enough action, and now finally something he can turn his focus onto. But it's a credit to the respect he holds for his fellow agents that he maintains that controlled composure and gives a short precise nod to May's question, "Yes ma'am, understood."
He looks to Simmons and gives a small smile, but then looks back. "Churches, holy places, positive energy stuff? Alright will do. Do we have a safehouse or a settled base of operations within the perimeter, or will I need to fully evac each time for recovery?" Of course this question will most likely lead to others of the more detailed tactical variety.

Melinda May takes the time to explain the SHIELD setup around the perimeter of the affected land — they haven't managed a secure waypoint on the inside yet — then asks what is likely the most important question of the entire briefing. "How susceptible to necromantic influences are you and your symbiote?"

"Places of belief, yes" Simmons responds and then listens as May outlines the setup. The question is a good one, and Simmons pulls up her tablet… she's going to record the answer in the database, even if it's marked as unverified.

"Well," Flash lifts his hands and opens them, fingers spreading as if to stave off just such an inquiry. But then he answers, "I imagine no more nor less vulnerable than normal people. I mean, I haven't felt any more resistant to any magical type things. But you know, no matter how subtle the wizard a bullet between the eyes will seriously cramp his style."
And that's that, at least in Thompson's opinion. Which, really isn't that informed. He looks between the two women, "Want me on station in the next hour, chief?"

"As soon as you're ready. There should be another transport leaving for Delaware in… eighty-seven minutes." And since Thompson gave the answer he did, she reaches for a few items she'd stashed on the floor by her chair just in case. It's a wax-sealed earthenware jug (likely holds about half a litre) and a ziploc style bag holding a square of cloth that's very clearly saturated in oil. "Take these with you, and don't hesitate to use them liberally." Flash can likely guess what kind of oil it is if he's paid attention to May fighting supernatural creatures in the past.

It's a reasonable answer and Simmons nods slowly, noting the conversation in the database. "Or a sawwed off to the chest…" she adds, quite helpfully she thinks. Putting the tablet down, Simmons turns her attention to her tea. Her job here is predominantly done, although she nods thoughtfully as May hands over the equipment, she suspects she knows what that is too.

Those hands upon the edge of the table lift to accept the offering of the earthenware jug and the cloth. He gives a short solemn nod to Agent May and then a similar one to Simmons. "Alright, I'll go pack my kit." He pushes the chair back and unless told to hold for the moment he'll rise from his seat. "I figure an aerial insertion might be for the best if that can be arranged."
And with that he again nods to them, "Agents," He says in way of farewell before turning and starting on his way towards the door.

Melinda May nods to Thompson as he leaves, then looks at Simmons as she reaches for her tea.

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