Unexpected

Prisoner #328

I stood at the window, gazing over the lineup as Agent Jenkins nodded to one of the other agents in the room who was wearing a headset. The agent spoke up, calling for prisoner #324. The guards on the other side of the glass ordered the first hostage in line to step forward. "William Morrison. Age thirty. From Charleston, West Virginia. Joined a gang from downtown in his senior year of high school and it all went downhill from there, ending in his supposed death after a gang shooting when his blood was found at the crime scene. Looks like he's a lot less dead than it was originally thought." Jenkins read from her folders in a monotone voice. "Agent Romanoff found him in the hideout she and Hawkeye had staked out. Previous interrogation before return to the Triskelion revealed that he was a member of the General."

"That's... that's the organization with the Green armbands right?"

"Right. Others who were interrogated claimed that he was involved in New York."

I nodded, remembering seeing how many of Loki's henchmen had donned the green band as they had gone through the breakfast or dinner line in the subterranean cafeteria. There had been dozens of them beefing up the human ranks of Loki's army. I squinted at the man who was looking around with worry on his features, trying to dig through my memories of that time. May he looked familiar... maybe he didn't... I had watched the lines of Loki's willing and unwilling minions pass by the kitchen window twice a day for two weeks, but that had been over half a years ago and at the time I had been avoiding looking into people's eyes in case they were glowing the unnatural turquoise of Loki's scepter's gem.

"I don't know." I finally admitted, feeling warmth rise up my neck. Some help I was.

Jenkins merely nodded, gesturing for the next criminal and starting her explanation as soon as the chained man was brought forward for me to inspect, "Colin Fitchpatric. Age twenty-eight. From Las Vegas, California. Graduated college with honors and soon after made his way into the chain of a shipping company. Lost his job about a year ago after he was caught shipping counterfeit money inside a shipment of wallets and handbags from overseas. He fell under the radar then, but has since joined the General apparently."

The man looked younger than twenty-eight in my opinion, but looks can be deceiving. He did seem familiar though, distinctly so... if... if I remembered correctly I could recall him taking stock of the supplies that had slowly started filling the underground headquarters' main chamber. He'd talked with Loki before while I had been watching from my perch beside Selvig in the brightly lit, curtained Tesseract panel. His eyes had been clear. I relayed this information to Agent Jenkins. I wasn't quite comfortable making a definite judgment that this man was the same as that one all those months ago, but he looked very similar to me.

"Catalina Buldova. Age 27. From Bucharest, Romania."

So she's not American? "Is it legal for us to hold her prisoner is she's not from America?"

"Her crimes with the General were all performed within our borders." Was Jenkins' quick answer, "Anyways, as you know, S.H.I.E.L.D., while based in America, is an international division and because of the nature of our work... well, we have a certain amount of free reign as long as the politics are run by the likes of Director Fury and Pierce."

"Hm." I looked over the woman before me as I contemplated Jenkins' words. Unlike the previous man, this woman looked older than her actual number. It could be seen in the tired bitterness of her eyes that her life had been a hard one and it had taken its toll on her. I wondered what her story was, but if Jenkins wasn't telling me it, that probably meant that it wasn't in her massive stack of files. Now the question was did I recognize her? On the exposed part of her neck I could see a swirling tattoo peeking from her jumpsuit's collar. That would probably have been her most distinct feature that I would recall from the underground lair. I searched my memories. I knew that one of the female scientists had had a Hawaiian flower tattooed on their wrist and that a good couple of the men who had worn the combat suits had had the single teardrop tattooed below their eyes... I couldn't recall this one though. It could have been covered up, but I doubted it unless she'd been one of the many whose combat suits had had high collars.