Mission Antarctica: Prelude

January 07, 2017:

Ravager gets hired to do some travelling and snooping

Avengers Mansion

Fifth Avenue mansion currently beling rebuilt

Characters

NPCs:

Mentions: Black Widow

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

It is probably not the usual procedure a contractor asks Rose for an interview in person, but Iron Guard didn’t use the usual mercenary channels to contact with her either.

The place for the meeting is a building at the fifth avenue, just in front of Central Park. Mid-evening, so it is dark in early January. The building seems to be undergoing extensive reforms, but the doors are open and the directions are clear enough, and lead the young mercenary to the basement of the building, an area of polished metal and synthetic ceramics that still smells new. There, seated by a round, white table, and armored in silver and red, is her contact waiting.


The initial contact has a raise in pale brow, a small hitch, maybe a tick. But after it has her leering at her phone that promptly is pitched like the rest….

As Ravager walks out of the door and gets on her Tomahawk it is cast over her shoulder, and hits the street with a loud pop that leaves another pothole in the city streets. A skull-faced bandana mask is pulled over lower to the bridge of nose, meeting with the cover of her Phantom-esque half-mask that surrounds her pale bionic eye.

Pulling up in front of the building her bike is parked, armed with the beeps and the light of red flickering on chassis and she steps inside. An escort? No surprise. The trench coat covered woman simply meets it with a stoicism, tugging down the bandana to reveal only a small smirk. Metal detectors will be a proble, but she will refuse removal of any of her 'assets' and once in the room she remains standing, watching and waiting.

Upnod. "Sup, do-gooder?"


No metal detector blips an apparently not alarms are raised. In truth most of the security system is still half-built and what there is Nathaniel can control from his armor. He doesn’t need to scan Ravager, though, he has been digging for information about her for a week and SHIELD files were pretty complete. Only scan he does, when she finally enter the room, is to check if her dimensional wave-frequency matches the current timeline.

“Good evening to you, Ravager, and thank you for coming,” he stands up and invites her to sit down by the table. There are half a dozen empty chairs, they look comfortable. “Please, sit down. This might take a while.”


SHIELD would know little on her save what she has done on reported levels: The perk of being a Merc(k)! But if Nathaniel knows how to work the Merc lines he can find her accomplishments there. She's an earner.

Dimensionally? She might be a tad skewed, maybe settled by now, but something is off. Not in her posture though, as she closes gaps with ease as he rises and offers, a chair gripped, spun and she straddles the backrest, perching her chin atop it with folded arms. "Then we may need coffee. Add Bailey's."


Iron Guard chuckles, the sound a little strange behind his mask, “I am afraid this place is still half built. But there is a Starbucks just around the corner.” He sits down himself, and the lights dim. An holographic display forms over the table. “Your task, if you are interested, is in Antarctica, by the Eternity Mountain Range. What do you know of the Roxxon Energy Corporation?” Forbes number one most of the century, although LexCorp has stolen its place twice in the last 10 years.


Ravager lifts a brow yet again and shakes her head. "More's the pity." More said to the Star(Mux)bucks then anything.

"How much does my task pay, because knowledge can be bought, but how much is the question, but after…!" A single digit rises his direction, ending in a shake and point.

"Why don't you Big Guns do this yourself? I am not here to be thrown under the bus by Iron Man Junior."

Where Nathaniel cannot provide her hand slips within her coat and Ravager warms herself with a pull from a flask, capping it and returning it, all the while though, she watches him and waits.


“I was merely wondering how much background you would need. Never mind, I will give you all the information about Roxxon I have. They do have a dark history,” mentions the armored hero. “Conflicts with super-powered vigilantes, blatant disregards of the safety of their employees in Third World countries, constant lobbying against anti-pollutant and pro-ecology laws. One of their CEOs was permanently institutionalized in an expensive high-security psychiatric hospital in Switzerland after an incident involving supernatural artefacts. The Serpent Crown, I am told. Have you heard of it? No? It might be important… eventually.”

He shakes his head. “In any case. Roxxon has a research installation in Antarctica. They have invested billions there, and… there is almost nothing in satellite pictures.” The holographic display shows only a few white dome modules there. However I have detected gravimetric irregularities in the area and I suspect they are using a holographic screen to hide a larger installation. And that area is very close to a place called the Savage Land.” He pauses to see if Rose has heard of it.


Ravager stares at Iron Guard blankly. At least so it seems. The single white eye remains placid, the frigid blue of the other shows only a bit of life as he speaks. "So you want me to go up against a typical corporation? I mean all of this information is cookie cutter to people with money and time to spare to get -wet-." A wriggle of fingers in a motion left to imagination.

Ravager seems non-plussed but there is a desire to know, evident in the fact that she remains in her chair. His pregnant pause though gets a shake of her head. "Sounds fitting for being near or in Antarctica. So, what do you want from me? I'll need more scematics if you want me to make it yet another crater, in the snowy wasteland." Narrowing her eyes she leans closer to count the globes of buildings.
"Those are likely only entryways to tunnels and sublevels."


“An underground installation would show in the infrared,” points out Nathaniel. “Unless it is very, very deep. But that would be very expensive, hence I suspect holographic camouflage.”

“I do not want a crater. I want you to get there and find out what is going on. I do not like what the gravimetric readings are hinting. Avoid being seen, avoid killing. But… well, if you have to act, do what you need to.” There is a reason why he is sending Ravager and not Deathstroke. And it is not just the elder Wilson is so very expensive. Slade would do exactly what he asks him and no one would even see him. But Nathaniel thinks Rose will do whatever she feels needs doing without charging extra for the explosions or the bodycount. He could also send Deadpool, but then the chances of a low bodycount would be near zero.

“Because the international status of Antarctica I cannot risk any Avenger be seen sneaking around there,” he skips explaining the Black Widow was his first choice for the mission but SHIELD keeps her too busy. “I can pay you double standard rates plus expenses, half beforehand and the rest when you get back. I will also make sure that if you go missing your… allies know where to find you.”


"You said they have a lot of ties and money as well as influence. So going deep or having a scrambler is both very possible. No matter." Ravagers hand lowers and in a swift motion she is standing and the chair is rolled back against the table without her personal escort of a shove.

"You hired me to do what I need to do. That's what I do. 75 percent now, the rest when I bill you." A slight hitch beneath an eye as she turns from him and walks for the door, his words making her huff out a short exhale of sarcastic laughter.
"I don't have allies, if I go missing hope they send me somewhere warm and with drinks."

A flick of a piece of paper folded into a paper football lands upon the table. "All my new contact info is there, including banking numbers. I'll get started when I see my account balance take the high road." And with that, Ravager steps outside of the doorway and exits stage left.

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