S.H.I.E.L.D had become the gold standard of the covert ops world since its rise to power with the U.S. government. The ever watchful eye was what most operatives desired more than anything in their careers. First you had to prove yourself before you could even pop up on their radar, and even then you weren’t promised a shot. Johnathan Jones had earned his place within S.H.I.E.L.D. during the Cold War. He’d worked within close proximity to super heroes, X-Men, Nordic Gods as well as suffering casualties and almost life ending injuries. He enjoyed his job, and truly considered himself as working in service to his country.
Now the initial training instructor, he was the first line of defense in making sure that only those truly strong enough would even make it to the next step on the long hard road to becoming an operative. His word was as good as gold, his opinion highly revered all the way up the ranks. He’d heard of agent Romanov more than once, even traded shots with her in combat, even suffered casualties in his unit at her hand. That’s why he couldn’t believe the orders had come through for her acceptance within their ranks. From none other than Fury himself. He couldn’t let this stand, he wouldn’t let this stand.
His request to speak with Fury granted. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, the men and women dead at her hands he would remind him of. It all fell on deaf ears, fist clinched, white knuckled, he’d never wanted to take a swing at his C.O. as much as he did now. “You’re dismissed, Jones.” Turning swiftly, “and one more thing, I’m sending Romanov to you first, per the S.O.P. I expect a fair, and unbiased assertion of her talents and abilities. If I even think so much as you’re intentionally trying to flunk her out of the program I will have you busted down to mess hall. Am I understood?” Fury scowled at Jones facing away from him.
“Yes, sir.” The doors woodshed open, outside was Maria Hill, with Romanovs briefing packet. “If I’m going to train her, I’m going to throw everything at her I’ve got.” “But sure,” Hill interjected, “I thought Romanov was to be fast tracked?” Jones looked away as the continued onto the flight deck and to the Quinjet idilling outside. “He did, but he’s allowed me to see if she’s really S.H.I.EL.D. material, or not. Just like any other recruit, it’s at my discretion.” Hill turned away as he stepped onto the loading ramp, barking orders. “S.H.I.E.L.D. training facilities, and step on it soldier.” A deep “understood” escaped the front cock put as he buckled himself in.
The training facility only a short distance from the Triskellion, like any other military base squads and platoons moved around it. In perfect formation, alive with the sounds of order. Jones was greeted by a cadre of officers, documents to sign, training certificates to go over. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, she was legendary, how could his government betray him like this? He thought as he walked off the loading ramp. Producing a pen from his pocket, he barely glanced at what he was signing. All of them would have to be better recruits, better soldiers, better operatives. The Cold War had hardened him against Russians, almost to the point of racial prejudice had it not been for his time there, among there people.
He knew deep down the Russians weren’t all bad, especially the people. It was their rank and command he hated, and Romanov fell into this category.As he walked into the P.T. facility he noticed a new recruit. A fierce blonde recruit was working the heavy bag, a group of recruits had gathered around her. Some sparring, another group teasing her. Interaction between associates is where you lear the most about your men, Jones had always believed. Leaned up on the railing he watched as she accepted there teasing, before returning it. Her voice sounded off, but there was a strength to it.
His thoughts ever returning to Romanov, he’d wondered when she’d arrive. Not many people had seen her, or well, lived to tell about it. Usually, if you did make it out of conflict, you found out some time later if she had been there or not. Besides she couldn’t be considered very good at her job if everyone knew who she were. Johnathan watched as she easily subverted her first sparring partners advances. A quick punch, diverted into a grab of their wrist. Continuing she gel them in place, as another tried to blind side her. Deflecting his blow, tossing his partner into a third attacker as she released his wrist.
Astonished, Johnathan raised from the railing and started down into the courtyard. Astonished as a fourth, a fifth, all thwarted. His excitement grew, his heart racing, he’d never seen technique executed to perfection like this. His nostrils flared, the musky stench of everyone training together. Eyes widened, he knew something wasn’t quite right. The call rang out, shrill and loud. A young recruit had spotted him. “Officer on deck.” The combatant released her mark, the others stumbling into formation. She didn’t have anywhere to stand, it was in this moment his worst fears came to surface. His voice louder, and stronger than the recruits. Echoing off the cold concrete walls, “at ease”, slowly he paced as they formed up, “recruits.”
(Shooting for the stars again, still no luck on here. I’ve tried doing it other, more seemingly popular ways, but nothing. Just hoping to connect and play with someone, I can go longer in response, or much shorter. I’m open to constructive criticism and generally concerned with my partners experience. I want us both to have the best time, and get off. Not into ghosting, or bailing, can do first person or third, and can play on a different platform either. I want to work together, to make something we both enjoy.)
Now the initial training instructor, he was the first line of defense in making sure that only those truly strong enough would even make it to the next step on the long hard road to becoming an operative. His word was as good as gold, his opinion highly revered all the way up the ranks. He’d heard of agent Romanov more than once, even traded shots with her in combat, even suffered casualties in his unit at her hand. That’s why he couldn’t believe the orders had come through for her acceptance within their ranks. From none other than Fury himself. He couldn’t let this stand, he wouldn’t let this stand.
His request to speak with Fury granted. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, the men and women dead at her hands he would remind him of. It all fell on deaf ears, fist clinched, white knuckled, he’d never wanted to take a swing at his C.O. as much as he did now. “You’re dismissed, Jones.” Turning swiftly, “and one more thing, I’m sending Romanov to you first, per the S.O.P. I expect a fair, and unbiased assertion of her talents and abilities. If I even think so much as you’re intentionally trying to flunk her out of the program I will have you busted down to mess hall. Am I understood?” Fury scowled at Jones facing away from him.
“Yes, sir.” The doors woodshed open, outside was Maria Hill, with Romanovs briefing packet. “If I’m going to train her, I’m going to throw everything at her I’ve got.” “But sure,” Hill interjected, “I thought Romanov was to be fast tracked?” Jones looked away as the continued onto the flight deck and to the Quinjet idilling outside. “He did, but he’s allowed me to see if she’s really S.H.I.EL.D. material, or not. Just like any other recruit, it’s at my discretion.” Hill turned away as he stepped onto the loading ramp, barking orders. “S.H.I.E.L.D. training facilities, and step on it soldier.” A deep “understood” escaped the front cock put as he buckled himself in.
The training facility only a short distance from the Triskellion, like any other military base squads and platoons moved around it. In perfect formation, alive with the sounds of order. Jones was greeted by a cadre of officers, documents to sign, training certificates to go over. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, she was legendary, how could his government betray him like this? He thought as he walked off the loading ramp. Producing a pen from his pocket, he barely glanced at what he was signing. All of them would have to be better recruits, better soldiers, better operatives. The Cold War had hardened him against Russians, almost to the point of racial prejudice had it not been for his time there, among there people.
He knew deep down the Russians weren’t all bad, especially the people. It was their rank and command he hated, and Romanov fell into this category.As he walked into the P.T. facility he noticed a new recruit. A fierce blonde recruit was working the heavy bag, a group of recruits had gathered around her. Some sparring, another group teasing her. Interaction between associates is where you lear the most about your men, Jones had always believed. Leaned up on the railing he watched as she accepted there teasing, before returning it. Her voice sounded off, but there was a strength to it.
His thoughts ever returning to Romanov, he’d wondered when she’d arrive. Not many people had seen her, or well, lived to tell about it. Usually, if you did make it out of conflict, you found out some time later if she had been there or not. Besides she couldn’t be considered very good at her job if everyone knew who she were. Johnathan watched as she easily subverted her first sparring partners advances. A quick punch, diverted into a grab of their wrist. Continuing she gel them in place, as another tried to blind side her. Deflecting his blow, tossing his partner into a third attacker as she released his wrist.
Astonished, Johnathan raised from the railing and started down into the courtyard. Astonished as a fourth, a fifth, all thwarted. His excitement grew, his heart racing, he’d never seen technique executed to perfection like this. His nostrils flared, the musky stench of everyone training together. Eyes widened, he knew something wasn’t quite right. The call rang out, shrill and loud. A young recruit had spotted him. “Officer on deck.” The combatant released her mark, the others stumbling into formation. She didn’t have anywhere to stand, it was in this moment his worst fears came to surface. His voice louder, and stronger than the recruits. Echoing off the cold concrete walls, “at ease”, slowly he paced as they formed up, “recruits.”
(Shooting for the stars again, still no luck on here. I’ve tried doing it other, more seemingly popular ways, but nothing. Just hoping to connect and play with someone, I can go longer in response, or much shorter. I’m open to constructive criticism and generally concerned with my partners experience. I want us both to have the best time, and get off. Not into ghosting, or bailing, can do first person or third, and can play on a different platform either. I want to work together, to make something we both enjoy.)
