S.H.I.E.L.D.: Agent Jones
One Night in Brazil
Previously...
Now...Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. wrote:Agent Jones, Junior Grade, sat at his desk at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Station in Brazil, situated secretly within the very rock of the [/i]Cristo Redentor. It was not one of the most glamorous positions within the agency, but it was one of the more scenic in the world. By scenic, he meant the females that usually walked the beaches wearing nothing but false dreams in the eyes of men, unless they had the money to make those dreams come true. Jones always made the dreams come true, under the logic that he was gaining a valuable informant for the agency, when in fact it was the other way around.
But other than the scenic nature of his posting, it was usually sitting at his desk reading through report after report of suspicious activity, or abnormal sighting within the temperate country. For months they had been receiving data on odd drug trade activities within the jungle areas nearby...enough odd data that the Brazilian Government had called on S.H.I.E.L.D. to have a look see into it. Of course Jones wouldn't be a part of it, much to his chagrin. He wanted to get out into the field and do some real work, but at his current level, he was resigned to continue to warm a chair in front of a computer screen, which currently was displaying a picture from one of his favorite night time girls, who had graciously given him a thumb drive with the pictures of her in various stages of undress.
"Oh, the things I'm going to do to you tonig...."
BOOM!
The space in front of his desk exploded into a tunnel of swirling multi-colored light, and stepping through the light a man leaps out before the tunnel seems to collapse back on itself. Sheets of paper and Post-It notes flutter and swirl in the air as the man in a strangely designed S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, including the voluminous forest green cloak that whirled around his form, looked at Agent Jones.
Jones leaned back in his chair, while the rest of the recovering agents drew their weapons and were pointing them at Jason, whom looked around the room with a casual, fearless smile at the multitudes of weapons pointing at him. "My, you S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents look like your at a convention for militant Funeral Directors. I need to talk to Fury about some more casual wear for you guys."
"Who...who the hell are you?!?" Jones stutters out.
"Miracle...Mister, Miracle." Jason states in a very passable Sean Connery voice.
"Wh...who?!?" Jones replied.
"Here." Jason produced the S.H.I.E.L.D. datapad from inside his cloak and handed it to Jones.
Jones took the tablet and looked at the information on the screen and then plugging in the tablet, allowing the computer to verify the contents and passcodes. He was surprised when the computer reported that the orders were authenticated, by Director Fury himself. When Jones looked back, Jason was appreciating the current picture of Jone's female companion on the other monitor with a scrutinizing smile.
"It amazes me that your human females are capable of such contortions, though I'm sure you can appreciate them." Jason said.
'Ping! Ping ping ping pingpingping pingping ping ping pingpingping!'
"Are you sure Mother?" Jason replied to the strange pinging sound that seemed to come from the very air in the room.
'Ping!'
"Very well, trace it and let me know." Jason then reached down and pulled the thumb drive from Jone's computer. "Pardon me, but Mother says that their is a anomalous wireless signal that is coming from this device. She stated that the signal does not appear to be one that is used by S.H.I.E.L.D,. She is tracing the signal to its source."
'Ping! Pingpingpingping ping ping pingping.'
"Excellent, thank you Mother." Jason smiled a knowing smile to Jones, seeing his nervousness as the other agents were looking at him suspiciously. "You have done some fine work here Agent..." Jason looks around the desk and finds Jone's name on one of the reports. "...Agent Jones. Your finding of this device will lead me to the very malcontents that I am looking for." Jason stated more for the others than towards Jones himself. He than leans down and whispers so only Jones can hear him. "My advice Mr. Jones is to apprehend your lovely little contortionist and bring her in for questioning, I'm sure she will no doubt give you all some valuable information. And next time...I'd more a bit more careful whom you trust."
Jason stands up straight. "Mother will use the signal to home in on the source. Again, good work Agent Jones. I will report to Director Fury himself of your fine work."
"Th...thank you...Sir."
"No! Thank you Agent!" Jason smiled and then entered the nearby elevator to the hangar bay. "I'll use the hangar to exit, I keep forgetting how disruptive the Boom Tube is in enclosed places." Jason smirks as the doors shut.
Agent Jones, Junior Grade, rose from his desk, having taken out of the top drawer the standard issue sidearm that belonged to him. He’d signed for it a few months ago, when he had first been transferred to the S.H.I.E.L.D. office in Brazil. Having had his pick of various firearms, he’d chosen the AMT Hardballer Longslide. The pistol was in it’s holster and he put it all on. A good shot, he wasn’t the best, not by far. But he was adequate. The few times that he’d had to use his firearm in the field, he’d acquitted himself well. Hopefully that wouldn’t be the case tonight.
He was going to investigate and see just who was trying to steal information from S.H.I.E.L.D. and why. More importantly, he wanted to know just who the Brazilian woman who had given him the flash drive was, for real. They’d had some hot and heavy nights and she was going to pay since apparently she’d been playing him. Checking that he had a few magazines of rounds, he grabbed his jacket. The black suit jacket fit around his frame as he started to walk out of the office. He gave a head nod to the agents who said their good byes to him. Many were still cleaning up the mess that Miracle’s Boom Tube had generated when he had so unceremoniously arrived uninvited into the heart of the Brazil office.
Jones walked past the front security checkpoint, where armed men stood ready to do evil upon those who would enter the building without the proper clearance and into the elevator. It was a bullet train horizontal stylized elevator that went into the city of Rio itself, depositing you inside of a twenty eight story office building that S.H.I.E.L.D. owned.
As he sat in the elevator, he unconsciously tapped the pocket of the suit where he had the flash drive. The whole thing was a bit suspicious when you thought about it. Jeisa Oliveira and he had met a few weeks ago at a popular bar. Beautiful, flirting, and seemingly unobtainable, they’d talked for what had seemed like hours over beers and lime. They’d made promises to meet up the next night, and he’d been amazed when she had, thinking that someone like her wouldn’t actually give him the time of day.
But she had. She’d been teaching him how to Samba. Now, he didn’t know what to think. Stepping out into the lobby of the building from the elevator, his mobile buzzed. Sliding the smartphone out, he spared a moment to wonder just how the hell this Miracle guy had been able to get his phone number. But then again, the guy was a teleporter, and could trace signals very well, so he wasn’t that surprised.
With the moment gone, he looked at the phone to see that Miracle had sent him information from the trace. A series of coordinates, longitude and latitude. It didn’t take him that long to figure out where he was going. A place that he knew decently well, it was a restaurant that was on what began to become the outskirts of the city. But that was only because the water rushed up to meet it.
He was headed to Barra da Tijuca.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Barra da Tijuca
Montelli’s Churrascaria
1837 Local Time
The dinner rush was in effect.
Stealing himself a booth that gave him a good view of the whole restaurant, Jones got himself a healthy serving of pork that had been tender grilled in the churrasqueira for hours. That was one thing that he loved about his assignment to Brazil, the food. The variety was great, the spices were perfect, and the ambiance was amazing. Take this place. It was filled with people, from all walks of life, dressed in different states and all of them were about having a good time. The waiters bustled about, trying to get everything done and make everyone happy, all serving the almighty real. Jones got himself an Eisenbahn pilsen, a good lager. Taking a swig from the bottle, he leaned back in the booth, to give himself time to familiarize himself with everything that was going on around him.
He let the training come back to him.
Slowly, he sank into the place, picking up on various activities and things around him. Casing a place took time, it wasn’t something that could be done in a few seconds. Not if you wanted to do it right. That had been one of the most important things that he had learned when he had been doing his training. Jones wanted to make sure that he didn’t make any mistakes. Especially considering the severity of the situation.
He’d already picked up on a lot of the waitstaff. Mostly women, but a few men, the women were the ones who did most of the light work, while the men carried around the actual skewers and plates of churrasco. The devil was in the details, that much was for sure. Like a red angry devil that you had to pay attention to.
One moment it was there, the next it was gone and those details were what got you killed.
Maybe that’s why he was so upset by what had happened. He had missed the fact that Jeisa had been playing him. Missed the fact that the hard drive had had special programming on it. Missed it because he had been too excited by the relationship, and had ignored simple rules when it came to working in a SCIF.
That was something that he wasn’t going to do again. Especially since he was already such a straight laced kind of guy.
As he sat there, picking at his food, he remembered his life back home in the States. That was a trip. Growing up, Jones had been in a single parent household. His father had served in the U.S. Army and had fought against the Chrell. He’d died during the Invasion, during the war. Jones didn’t really remember his father, despite having been about six years old when his father had died. But a good chunk of that time his father had been away fighting the Chrell. When he’d grown up, he’d scored very highly on his ASVAB, and he’d enlisted in the Army. Going to Ft. Huachuca, he’d been trained as 35F, or an All Source Intelligence Analyst. From there, he’d served in the 101st Airborne and after he’d served his contract, he’d been recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D.
His thoughts were interrupted when he saw her.
Jeisa Oliveiro was here in the room, and his heart sank. What the hell was she doing here? Well that was obvious enough. She was dressed in an extremely flattering deep purple silky satiny dress. Her curves were on show, but it was decidedly not for him. She was with a man, dressed in a suit similar to the one that Jones was wearing. The man walked with her to one of the tables and they sat down. Her hair was down, and when she moved her hair, he saw a flash of earrings that looked far too pricy for what he normally saw her wearing. Well this was interesting.
Shame he was going to have to break this up.
Rising from his seat, he downed the rest of his beer, and tossed enough cash onto the table to cover everything, before he made his way down towards the table. The moment their eyes locked, hers grew wide, very wide. Her movements became erratic and she averted her eyes when he reached the table. As he walked though, he recognized the man.
“Hey there.” He said, with an easy tone in his voice.
“And you are?” The man asked. “Because you don’t look like one of the waiters.”
“No, I definitely am not one of the waiters. I’m a...friend of Jeisa’s.” He said. “I was actually wondering who you were, but then I recognized you. You’re Andrew Myers, the business guy.” He said. “I was reading something about how you’re working on some crazy business deal. Something like billions of dollars?” He asked, rhetorically. “How do you know Jeisa?” He asked.
“We just meet recently. Kind of protective aren’t you?” Myers asked. “I didn’t catch your name.” He said. “You are?”
“Name’s not important.” Jones replied. “Mind if I have a word with Jeisa though?” He asked. “At least, she can stop looking so uncomfortable sitting here, like something’s really wrong.” He said.
“I’m beginning to think that something is.” Myers said. “Go for it.” He said, gesturing.
Jones indicated with a head nod. Jeisa rose and followed him.