TW for depiction of violence (context: hero fight) and death of minor/unnamed characters (nongraphic, canon-typical, specifically s3)
Melinda spent most of her day sitting outside of the building that housed Cybertek's central offices, conducting surveillance and casing the place for her eventual infiltration. The schematics in her file from the ATCU seemed to be up-to-date, as everything matched up with the recon Melinda gathered herself – entrances, cameras, and security guard schedules all exactly as Ros had indicated they would be.
By the time afternoon rolled around, she was ready to move inside, and after donning a passable disguise, she swept into the building and past the security checkpoint at the front entrance, making careful mental notes about the camera placement, metal detectors, and obvious-to-her pressure plate in the floor of the building foyer.
"Nature of your visit to Cybertek today, ma'am?" asked the guard at the front desk as he checked her ID and badge, which identified her as Heidi Martin, from the office of the Metro City Department of Employment and Labor.
"I'm here for your quarterly workplace conditions inspection," Melinda lied easily. "The city recently mandated that at least one of the quarterly inspections be conducted unannounced, so no one is expecting me. It's a pop-up visit, you know?"
"Is this like an OSHA thing?" The guard scratched at his stubbly chin. "'Cause we don't do any of the manufacturing here. This is just corporate."
"Not OSHA, no," Melinda shook her head and resisted the impulse to correct him on what OSHA actually did. "MCDEL. We're local, not national, and interested in the nontangible working conditions within the office. Corporate culture, health benefits, that sort of thing."
"Sure, sure," the guard nodded. Melinda could easily feel that he didn't really have much of a clue what she was talking about but didn't want to look stupid in front of her. The power of unabashed confidence and a simple, bullshit story. "I'll buzz you up, but I'm gonna have to let reception know you're coming."
"That will be fine," she said, flashing him a plastic smile. "Thank you. And if you have any complaints about the way you're treated here at work, don't hesitate to reach out to our office."
She passed him a fake business card with the MCDEL contact information on it. As expected, the guard took it, getting his fingerprints all over it, and tucked it into a basket on the desk filled with all sorts of other business cards, all easily forgotten.
It was easy to work her way through the building once she'd shared her same cover story with the woman in reception. The woman was happy to escort her around to the different wings and floors, pointing out all of the special features that made Cybertek 'a great place to work.'
The receptionist proudly showed off the office safety features, the emergency exits, and all the places where employees could get coffee and snacks. Most of the Cybertek offices were lined with glass instead of walls, so Melinda had no trouble studying the building's interior while pretending to be impressed by the selection of muffins the receptionist highlighted in the fourth-floor vending machine.
"And I think that's everything," the receptionist announced after nearly half an hour of tour guiding. "The only thing we haven't covered is the executive suite, but that's just where Mr. Quinn works and holds his meetings. Most of us employees don't spend much time back there."
"That's the suite back that way?" Melinda asked, nodding toward the one hallway they hadn't covered.
"Mm-hm," the receptionist nodded. "Mr. Quinn isn't in today, otherwise I'd see if he had a moment to meet with you."
"That's all right," Melinda said quickly. "We tend to schedule our sit-down meetings with the executives rather than pop in unannounced. Their schedules are so busy…"
"Oh, don't I know it," tittered the receptionist. "Always on the move, Mr. Quinn. Clients to meet, shareholders to keep happy, benefits to throw…"
"Never a dull moment," hummed Melinda as she scanned her eyes along the ceiling line of the hallway that led to Quinn's office. Two cameras. A biometric lock on the office door. "Well, thanks for your time today, Jill. You'll be sure to share my office's contact information among your colleagues? If there's anything they want to report?"
"I will," she nodded again. Then, with a wink, "But I don't think anyone will have anything negative to say."
"Probably not," Melinda agreed, oozing false sincerity. "Thank you again. Have a nice day."
"You too!"
As soon as she had made it back out to her car (a black crossover SUV this time, rather than June's Civic), Melinda added her own notes and observations to the Cybertek file, so as not to lose any of the information she'd gathered. She'd study up and maybe, if everything fell into place the way she hoped it would, she could take a stab at breaking in after-hours tonight.
She began the drive back to her apartment then, easing out into the late afternoon traffic. As she waited for an opportunity to merge, a series of police cars raced past her in the opposite direction, sirens bawling and lights flashing. Intrigued, Melinda fiddled quickly with the dial on the car radio and activated the hidden receiver that allowed her to tune into the police scanner.
A dispatch voice crackled to life and filled the car: "All available units respond to Union Square, we have an 0-8-4, Enhanced Incident. SHIELD is on scene and requesting backup for crowd control."
Without really thinking, Melinda swung the car around in a smooth U-turn, much to the irritation of the drivers behind her, and changed course for Union Square. It was probably stupid of her to head towards an active SHIELD scene, but she was curious what might be going on, and equally curious to know if Quake's team was the one responding.
For years, she had made it a point to avoid SHIELD ops as much as possible, not counting the ones where SHIELD sent someone after her, of course. It was better if she didn't have to see them or think about them any more than absolutely necessary. But now that she was actively looking into the way SHIELD ran things, and actively interested in one of its more promising rookies, she couldn't help but wonder what she might find at the scene.
She was about a block away from Union Square when she met a police barricade preventing her from driving further, so she pulled off and parked in a deserted alley and approached the rest of the way on foot, slipping through the throngs of panicked people being herded away by pushy cops. What she saw once she cleared the corner nearly stopped her in her tracks.
There was a small SHIELD team – four heroes, all in costume, including Quake – facing off against a 7-foot-tall figure in a floor-length black garment. Maybe a robe, or one of those duster coats… it was hard to say for sure. The jarring thing about the figure, however, wasn't its clothes, but its face.
It was certainly not humanoid, and probably not earthly, either. Greyish-purple skin, large, deep-set red eyes, no nose to speak of, and what had to be at least a dozen curling, shoulder-length tentacles protruding from the back of its head. It gave off an aura of evil so ancient and strong that you wouldn't have needed empath powers to feel your stomach curdle with fear at the sight.
"Hey, get back!" ordered a scowling police officer nearby. He put a rough hand on Melinda's shoulder and steered her back behind a barricade where a crowd of bystanders had gathered, trying to snap pictures and videos of the encounter. "No civilians past this point, lady."
If Melinda hadn't been in her stupid government worker disguise, complete with fake glasses, pencil skirt, and wretched high heels, she might have grabbed the jackass' arm and judo-flipped him into the concrete, but as it was, she thought it would be best not to blow her cover in front of an entire array of cameras. She settled for giving the officer her best glare before stepping primly around the barrier and melting into the crowd to watch. She would only intervene if absolutely necessary, she told herself.
The SHIELD team was clearly made up of rookie heroes, and Quake seemed to be the one in command, whether by rank or by simple virtue of the fact that all the others kept looking to her for direction. There was a teleporter, a lady covered in spikes, and a guy who clearly saw himself as an Iron-Man wannabe, with booster boots, an anti-gravity belt, and energy blasters strapped to his hands. Not exactly the crack team Melinda would have chosen to go toe-to-toe with a new, probably alien, villain-level threat.
Quake looked good, though, despite the lopsided odds. She appeared calm and in control of herself and the rest of her team. Her Quake costume had always been a well-designed one: sleek, black tac suit with purple piping, decked out with a utility belt, sturdy boots, and gleaming gauntlets. The cowl around her shoulders and mask over her face concealed her identity well, and the armor and padding on her suit and lifts in her boots helped make her look older, more like an adult agent than a kid thrown into the deep end without water wings. Her posture was strong, her motions confident, and the late afternoon sunlight gave her a heroic glow. For a moment, Melinda could clearly see the hero Quake would grow into in a few years' time – a force of nature and a damn good agent. Avengers-level, even.
The same could not be said for her teammates. The teleporter was jumpy, never content to stay in the same spot for more than a second, and the booster-boot-boy seemed like a loose cannon, taking risky moves when they weren't fully needed. Spike-woman seemed more in control, but it was obvious that she wasn't fully comfortable with hand-to-hand combat yet. Still, Quake directed them with reasonable skill, and it was clear that they were at least somewhat used to working as a unit.
They had backed the alien into the center of the square, the big, artsy sculpture meant to be an abstract representation of 'unity' at its back and preventing it from turning tail. The teleporter popped in and out, buzzing around the alien's head and serving as both annoyance and distraction, and booster-boot-boy had circled around the back of the sculpture to keep the escape route closed. Spike-woman and Quake handled the front offensive, forcing the alien into semi-retreat.
"Last chance," Melinda heard Quake call towards the alien. "SHIELD's taking you in for questioning. You can come easy, or we can play hardball."
The alien's face twisted into what Melinda could only describe as a gruesome kind of grin. If it spoke, she couldn't hear what it said, but she got the message loud and clear. The alien was daring them to bring it on.
Before anyone had the chance to react, the alien flicked one arm out to the side, sending a wave of grey mist rushing toward booster-boot-boy. The mist swirled around him until it had all but enveloped him, and Melinda watched in horror as the mist slowly changed from grey to red and the color drained from booster-boy's face. His body went limp and crashed to the ground, his skin paper white and his face hollowing before their eyes as the mist seemed to leech the life from his body.
Several screams rose up from the gathered crowd, and people began pushing, trying to distance themselves. Melinda pushed in the other direction, determined to stay close to the front.
Quake called out to her teammates, but Melinda couldn't hear what she said. Quake turned a forceful blast of seismic energy on the alien, forcing it backwards until its back was pinned against the metal of the Unity sculpture. Quake advanced, deadly fire crackling in her eyes, the force of her quake still trained on the alien. The muscles in her arm tightened and the intensity of her quake increased as she descended upon the alien. She forced it down to its knees with the power of her quake and gave a jerk of her head, indicating for spike-woman to come and handcuff the alien.
Before spike-woman could make a move, however, the red mist seeped its way over from booster-boy and began to envelope spike-woman, who cried out in pain.
Quake didn't hesitate this time, and she used one hand to blast spike-woman, forcing her thirty yards away, skidding across the pavement. It probably hurt, but it got the woman away from the mist long enough that she wasn't consumed in the same way her teammate had been.
The distraction was enough to give the alien time to get back to its feet and call the mist back to it. The mist appeared to strengthen the alien as it reabsorbed back into its body – something that Quake noticed, too. Quake scrambled backwards, out of the alien's reach, and called out to the teleporter to do the same.
The teleporter must not have heard her, because he was still popping too close to the alien's head for anyone's comfort, trying to stick it with what looked like a tranq needle. Melinda felt like the world was moving in slow motion as she watched the teleporter disappear from view, then reappear, right in the outstretched and waiting hand of the alien. The alien's hand closed into a fist around the teleporter's neck, and the grey mist swirled around them both, turning red before anyone could do anything. The teleporter writhed only for a moment, before going limp, too.
Quake let out a strangled yell and let loose a quake blast so forceful that the ground under Melinda's feet trembled. The quake slammed into the alien, forcing it to release the teleporter and sending it skidding backwards. Quake began sprinting toward it – stupid, reckless, heroic kid, Melinda cursed – and Melinda began kicking off her high heels.
Melinda had just vaulted over the barricade, a rip tearing up the side of her pencil skirt, determined to stop Quake from going and getting herself vaporized, when the alien surprised them both.
Before either one of them had gotten close enough to do anything, the alien dissolved completely into a cloud of the same mist, essentially vanishing before their eyes. The new cloud of mist churned across the square and disappeared down a sewer grate. Melinda stopped running, but Quake didn't. Quake charged over the grate and dropped to her knees, yanking at the bars but having no luck in budging them.
Melinda could hear Quake shouting at the grate, her voice ragged. "No! Come back here! Come back, damn it!"
The crowds were starting to push back in, the agitated buzz of gobsmacked bystanders conversing between themselves burrowing into Melinda's ears and senses. She was drawing too much attention, shoeless and in a ripped skirt on the wrong side of the barricade. She slunk backwards, fading seamlessly back into the crowd. There wasn't anything she could do now, and it wouldn't do her or Quake any good if they were seen together like this.
The last thing Melinda saw, before SHIELD trucks and a MediChopper all rolled in and began clearing the scene, was Quake stumbling away from the grate and back over to her fallen teammates, checking fruitlessly at their necks for a pulse or sign of life.
Quake's mask covered a lot, but it didn't hide the anguish on her face.
Poor kid.