Operation: Godhand: The Tightest Grip
Mar. 10th, 2009 03:09 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsVazhin contacts Remy about some trouble that Natasha Romanova's gotten into, and explains exactly why X-Force will be the ones getting her out of it.
“Good morning, LeBeau.”
“Vazhin. What a pleasant surprise.” Remy’s voice was completely flat. The Russian never called without wanting something, and whatever he wanted was never easy or safe for his people. “See de time difference hasn’t worked its way into you thoughts.”
“Oh, I’m aware of it, LeBeau. I just don’t care enough to accommodate other people.”
“What do you want?”
“To share something with you. There’s an interesting document that one of my people reminded me that I needed to complete action on before it can be properly filed away.”
“You called me to talk ‘bout paperwork? You really need a girlfriend, homme.”
“Ah, the American sense of humour. I was briefed about it.” Vazhin’s voice turned serious. “I have a problem.”
“Dis isn’t going to be fun.”
“Nyet. Natasha Romanova is in some trouble.” The voice over the line was terse and strained. Obviously his first call hadn’t been to them. “Some time ago, an artifact that had been seized from the Nazis during the invasion of Germany was stolen from one of our vaults. Five months ago, we learned that the artifact had re-emerged in private hands, and was intended for sale to Chechen terrorists. Those people haven’t learned what ‘pacified’ means.”
“What’s de artifact?”
“In due time. We arranged a trap for the sale, but someone in my intelligence forces decided that the Chechens were the poorer cousins, warned them off the buy, and shopped the glove out to someone with deeper pockets. Natasha went after the artifact while we verified the leak in our organization.” That was one of the dangers of the job, was that assets and agents had their own breaking points and their own price tags, and eventually, some of them burned you. “Of course, she was successful.”
“Of course.”
“Too successful. Posing as a buyer from the Russian mafia, she got her hands on the artifact, only to find that another potential buyer had already been arranged, and the men who were selling it found themselves gunned down before they knew they the ambush was existing. Natasha was able to get clear of the ambush, but circumstances have forced her to ‘go to ground’, as you say, in Bucharest and we don’t have assets to get her out.” Vazhin finished.
“Dat’s a shame. Remy going to miss dose longing looks of hers.”
“I think you’re going to get my agent out of the situation she’s in.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because the paperwork on my desk involves the charges against Illyana Rasputin, of course, and her long association with Xavier’s. Not to mention the extreme interest the state takes in a mutant thief using the identity of a girl ten years younger than her to commit acts of espionage against our state.” And there was the threat. It had been long enough that Remy had almost forgotten the axe that Vazhin had been quietly holding over their heads. He must be desperate to resort to this kind of brute force.
“Dat changes things a little, you right.” He bit back a curse and tried to focus on the details. “Dere’s something dat doesn’t fit here. I know Romanova’s background, and dere’s got to be a good reason she can’t make her own exit secretly from de city. What is dis artifact?”
“It is called the ‘SatanGreifer’, or "Satan's Claw" in English. It was an early success in cybernetic and nuclear research by Nazi scientists. We’re lucky that the syphilis was destroying Hitler’s brain in such a way to keep him constantly shifting his researchers on to different projects rather than focusing on a few key projects. In this case, it was their UberSoldat program, trying to make some kind of battle armor or something.”
“What does it do?”
“The Claw? When put on, it links directly with the nervous system, and allows the wearer to use the remarkable strength of the glove in battle. It can punch through tank armor, crush immensely strong materials… and fire a burst of focused neutrons that can melt solid steel and instantly kill anyone it hits. Natasha escaped the ambush by donning the glove.” Vazhin paused, and Remy groaned.
“Dis is de part where you get into de really bad news, isn’t it? Why can’t she just get the thing off and escape?”
“The glove bonds to the nervous system. Without the proper deactivation sequence, there is no way to remove it short of cutting off the limb. We never were able to determine the sequence, which is why it ended up forgotten in a Cold War era vault.” Vazhin took a deep breath. “That’s not the worst of it. The glove itself is an astonishing machine, powered by a micronized nuclear pile inside. Once the burst of neutrons is unleashed, it begins a buildup of irradiated particles inside the systems, which after four days, reaches critical mass, and the glove vents it to prevent an explosion. That venting delivers a fatal dose of radiation to anyone in a three mile radius.”
“You have got to be kidding me. She can’t take de glove off, and she’s hiding in de middle of a major city?”
“The casualties would be catastrophic, yes. The glove is quite large, and Natasha reports that the men who ambushed her are still hunting for her, watching the airports, train stations, and subways. Without the glove, she could slip by them, but with that thing attached to her, there’s no way to avoid detection long enough to get out.” The information just seemed to get worse and worse.
“You can’t send your own agents to extract her because if you can’t figure out how to stop de build up in de glove, you can’t risk de deaths of hundreds of thousands leading back to Russian operatives. Merde.” Remy shook his head. “Doesn’t look like we have much choice. What do you want?”
“A courier will be arriving from our embassy with information on the man who doublecrossed us, and Natasha’s assets in Bucharest. We believe our former agent has records of his transaction with this third party, but keeps them at his place of business, which is a great deal more secure than his home. You will need to retrieve them, without alerting his employers of his double life. A great deal of his covert work for us is likely recorded there too, and we don’t wish that connection coming to light. The man himself must be dealt with, again, in a fashion that makes it tragic as opposed to suspicious. Find out who is hunting Natasha, and neutralize them, getting her out in the process.” Vazhin’s voice was steely. “Natasha reported that while evading capture, she heard that these men believe that their employer has a method to remove the glove safely. Once you find out who this is, determine if they possess this information, and extract my agent. If you are successful, I will officially remove all records of Illyana Rasputin’s treasonous activities, and even correct the… clerical error involving her age.”
“And if not?”
“It will be very difficult for her, or you, to remain as comfortably anonymous as you are accustomed to.” It was a threat delivered without any bluster. If Vazhin felt they should move into the threat column, he could force them to cut ties and dive deep underground, an action that would not be without casualties. “Call me when it is done.”
“Good morning, LeBeau.”
“Vazhin. What a pleasant surprise.” Remy’s voice was completely flat. The Russian never called without wanting something, and whatever he wanted was never easy or safe for his people. “See de time difference hasn’t worked its way into you thoughts.”
“Oh, I’m aware of it, LeBeau. I just don’t care enough to accommodate other people.”
“What do you want?”
“To share something with you. There’s an interesting document that one of my people reminded me that I needed to complete action on before it can be properly filed away.”
“You called me to talk ‘bout paperwork? You really need a girlfriend, homme.”
“Ah, the American sense of humour. I was briefed about it.” Vazhin’s voice turned serious. “I have a problem.”
“Dis isn’t going to be fun.”
“Nyet. Natasha Romanova is in some trouble.” The voice over the line was terse and strained. Obviously his first call hadn’t been to them. “Some time ago, an artifact that had been seized from the Nazis during the invasion of Germany was stolen from one of our vaults. Five months ago, we learned that the artifact had re-emerged in private hands, and was intended for sale to Chechen terrorists. Those people haven’t learned what ‘pacified’ means.”
“What’s de artifact?”
“In due time. We arranged a trap for the sale, but someone in my intelligence forces decided that the Chechens were the poorer cousins, warned them off the buy, and shopped the glove out to someone with deeper pockets. Natasha went after the artifact while we verified the leak in our organization.” That was one of the dangers of the job, was that assets and agents had their own breaking points and their own price tags, and eventually, some of them burned you. “Of course, she was successful.”
“Of course.”
“Too successful. Posing as a buyer from the Russian mafia, she got her hands on the artifact, only to find that another potential buyer had already been arranged, and the men who were selling it found themselves gunned down before they knew they the ambush was existing. Natasha was able to get clear of the ambush, but circumstances have forced her to ‘go to ground’, as you say, in Bucharest and we don’t have assets to get her out.” Vazhin finished.
“Dat’s a shame. Remy going to miss dose longing looks of hers.”
“I think you’re going to get my agent out of the situation she’s in.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because the paperwork on my desk involves the charges against Illyana Rasputin, of course, and her long association with Xavier’s. Not to mention the extreme interest the state takes in a mutant thief using the identity of a girl ten years younger than her to commit acts of espionage against our state.” And there was the threat. It had been long enough that Remy had almost forgotten the axe that Vazhin had been quietly holding over their heads. He must be desperate to resort to this kind of brute force.
“Dat changes things a little, you right.” He bit back a curse and tried to focus on the details. “Dere’s something dat doesn’t fit here. I know Romanova’s background, and dere’s got to be a good reason she can’t make her own exit secretly from de city. What is dis artifact?”
“It is called the ‘SatanGreifer’, or "Satan's Claw" in English. It was an early success in cybernetic and nuclear research by Nazi scientists. We’re lucky that the syphilis was destroying Hitler’s brain in such a way to keep him constantly shifting his researchers on to different projects rather than focusing on a few key projects. In this case, it was their UberSoldat program, trying to make some kind of battle armor or something.”
“What does it do?”
“The Claw? When put on, it links directly with the nervous system, and allows the wearer to use the remarkable strength of the glove in battle. It can punch through tank armor, crush immensely strong materials… and fire a burst of focused neutrons that can melt solid steel and instantly kill anyone it hits. Natasha escaped the ambush by donning the glove.” Vazhin paused, and Remy groaned.
“Dis is de part where you get into de really bad news, isn’t it? Why can’t she just get the thing off and escape?”
“The glove bonds to the nervous system. Without the proper deactivation sequence, there is no way to remove it short of cutting off the limb. We never were able to determine the sequence, which is why it ended up forgotten in a Cold War era vault.” Vazhin took a deep breath. “That’s not the worst of it. The glove itself is an astonishing machine, powered by a micronized nuclear pile inside. Once the burst of neutrons is unleashed, it begins a buildup of irradiated particles inside the systems, which after four days, reaches critical mass, and the glove vents it to prevent an explosion. That venting delivers a fatal dose of radiation to anyone in a three mile radius.”
“You have got to be kidding me. She can’t take de glove off, and she’s hiding in de middle of a major city?”
“The casualties would be catastrophic, yes. The glove is quite large, and Natasha reports that the men who ambushed her are still hunting for her, watching the airports, train stations, and subways. Without the glove, she could slip by them, but with that thing attached to her, there’s no way to avoid detection long enough to get out.” The information just seemed to get worse and worse.
“You can’t send your own agents to extract her because if you can’t figure out how to stop de build up in de glove, you can’t risk de deaths of hundreds of thousands leading back to Russian operatives. Merde.” Remy shook his head. “Doesn’t look like we have much choice. What do you want?”
“A courier will be arriving from our embassy with information on the man who doublecrossed us, and Natasha’s assets in Bucharest. We believe our former agent has records of his transaction with this third party, but keeps them at his place of business, which is a great deal more secure than his home. You will need to retrieve them, without alerting his employers of his double life. A great deal of his covert work for us is likely recorded there too, and we don’t wish that connection coming to light. The man himself must be dealt with, again, in a fashion that makes it tragic as opposed to suspicious. Find out who is hunting Natasha, and neutralize them, getting her out in the process.” Vazhin’s voice was steely. “Natasha reported that while evading capture, she heard that these men believe that their employer has a method to remove the glove safely. Once you find out who this is, determine if they possess this information, and extract my agent. If you are successful, I will officially remove all records of Illyana Rasputin’s treasonous activities, and even correct the… clerical error involving her age.”
“And if not?”
“It will be very difficult for her, or you, to remain as comfortably anonymous as you are accustomed to.” It was a threat delivered without any bluster. If Vazhin felt they should move into the threat column, he could force them to cut ties and dive deep underground, an action that would not be without casualties. “Call me when it is done.”
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