Three's A Crowd

Twenty Seven | Playing Hostage Isn't Fun

GENERAL POV: [CA:TWS SPOILERS AHEAD!!!]

Steve fixes his tactical belt, walking over to the control panel of the quinjet as he joins Natasha and a couple other SHIELD agents, who are led by Brock Rumlow. Another cleanup and extraction, no full word about it yet which was surprising, usually Nat would've had mission Intel covered and ran through as soon as they get their orders and location.

And Steve was loathed being sent on something he had no clue about. He may have missed out 70 years of modernization, but he's trying. Can't someone appreciate that?

Steve shakes his head, standing beside Rumlow, who nods his head at the blonde in silent greeting, in which Steve does the same. "So, what're we dealing with?" Natasha eyes Steve for a second before focusing on the debriefing.

"The target's a mobile satellite launch platform. The Lemurian Star, as they call it. They were sending up their last payload when pirates took over, about... 93 minutes ago."

"Any demands?" Steve asked as his eyes analyzed the hologram of the ship flashed before them, from the inside and out, all decks patrolled with guards, every single one of them armed. Nothing they couldn't handle, especially with how many they were on this mission.

"A billion and a half." Rumlow replies, watching as the crease on the Captain's forehead began to form, eyebrows furrowed together as he pushed himself up in his signature standing pose.

"Why so steep?"

"Because it's SHIELD's."

Steve nods his head in understandment. "So it's not off-course, it's trespassing."

"I'm sure they have a good reason to." Natasha comments, her body stiffening up a bit. Steve stares at her shoulders at the slight tense coming off her, his eyes meeting back to hers as he made a comment of his own.

"You know, I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor."

"Relax, it's not that complicated." she assured, pushing herself off the control panel and back somewhere into the quinjet, probably to gear up.

Steve turns back to Rumlow as she walks off. "How many pirates?"

Rumlow pulls out a device as he hummed in thought, Steve waiting patiently as he adjusted his stealth suit, having to have suit up in a not so steady rocking jet. Some things weren't in the right places... Rumlow looks over at Steve. "Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy," he says, pressing a button on the device, which shows them a photo of the man. "Georges Batroc."

"Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He's at the top of Interpol's Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had about thirty-six kill missions, all would've gone unnoticed if it weren't for Romanoff and her last mission in Paris. This guy's got a rep for maximum casualties." Rumlow muttered as he presses a button again on the device, making the photo set aside aside, returning to its previous preview of the ship, all guards and possible threats highlighted in red, hostages being the ones in green.

"Figures, they would have hostages... anything on 'em? If they wanted access on the Lemurian Star they should've already be sending out bodies. There must be around eleven of them."

"They're mostly just techs. But one officer though, Jasper Sitwell." Rumlow says as he pulls up another photo on the monitor, flashing a bald man in glasses and a suit. Steve remembers him vaguely from his first mission back from the ice, when some... self proclaimed god took over New York City two years ago. That was pretty hectic, another mission he had no full knowledge on.

Natasha comes back, adjusting her widow bite stingers on her wrists. Her eyes catch the photo of the agent. Glaring at the photo for a while, she turns back at Rumlow, forest green eyes searching for answers. "Sitwell?"