Peggy's Unfortunate Trip to the Dry Cleaners

PEGGY

As it turned out, going to work meant standing outside a bloody dry cleaners and waiting for Maria to give me some instruction. I’d arrived almost 15 minutes ago, and had received no additional orders. I even messaged Maria herself a few times asking for an update. As of yet, nothing. And I was drawing more than a few stares, standing around in full costume in the middle of Brooklyn.

Eventually though, my SHIELD communicator did chime as Maria sent me another message.

Finally! I thought to myself, as I pulled the communicator from my pocket.

SHIELD DIRECTOR MARIA HILL: Apologies, Carter.

SHIELD DIRECTOR MARIA HILL: Things are getting out of hand on my end. I need to maintain a level of secrecy here because there’s a very real possibility that SHIELD has a mole. Certain criminal organizations have been too ready for us during recent operations, almost as if they had foreknowledge of our plans. The only thing I could think of that could explain it is that there’s some sort of a data leak here at SHIELD.

SHIELD DIRECTOR MARIA HILL: I’ve done some digging, and I believe that the dry cleaner you’re standing in front of is being used as a dead drop by the mole. You need to head inside and question the owner. Tell him that you need to pick up clothes dropped off under the name ‘Scarlet Hehring.’ The leaked files should be hidden somewhere in one of the articles of clothing.

SHIELD DIRECTOR MARIA HILL: Contact me when you’ve gotten ahold of the files.

I frowned. A leak?! In SHIELD?! That was serious.

And, come to think of it, I remembered reading over the operations reports the other day and noticing that several ‘sure-thing’ operations had failed miserably. I even remembered shaking my head at how little sense it made that we’d captured too few targets, and at such heavy casualties to our own forces.

Of course there’s a mole! I think, kicking myself for not even suspecting it until now. It’s the only thing that could explain how some of these scumbags stay one step ahead of us!

And apparently, the first step to putting a stop to it involved barging into a dry cleaner’s and picking up some clothes.

I looked down at myself, still clad in the entirety of my ‘superhero’ uniform. I wished that Maria had explained all of this before sending me here. At least then, I could’ve tried to pick up the dead drop incognito. As it stood, I would have to march in dressed like a bloody Union Jack with everyone staring at me.

Of course, I could always just go home, get changed, and come back…

A list of the casualties from the last batch of operations flashed through my mind as I considered it.

Don’t be such a bloody ponce, Carter! I chastised myself. So it’ll be a little embarrassing. So bloody what? Square your shoulders, be a woman, get in there, and do your bloody job!

CAPTAIN CARTER: Understood. I’ll contact you once I get ahold of the package.

I marched into the dry cleaners. (PEGGY: +8SP)(-42SP)

I drew more than a few stares as I made my way to the front counter, obviously. A six foot tall woman in body armor with a vibranium shield slung over her shoulder tended to do that. The poor guy standing at the counter looked like he was a hairsbreadth away from pissing himself.

I did feel a twinge of regret at that. Chances were that the poor guy had absolutely nothing to do with the leak at SHIELD. It was just his bad luck that his dry cleaners was being used as the site for a dead drop.

“Hello.” I said, keeping my voice calm but authoritative.

“Um… Hi.” The owner said. He was a rail-thin man in his 40’s. His nametag said his name was Dave.

“I need to pick up some dry cleaning, Dave.”

“I… Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He hesitated then asked, “do you have a ticket?”

Shit.

“No.” I admitted. “I’m picking up an order for a friend. They didn’t give me a ticket.”

“Well, if you don’t have a ticket, I can’t really…”

I folded my arms and gave him my best glare. Again, I didn’t feel good about it, but I had to do whatever was necessary to get my hands on those files. If it meant giving this poor man a bit of a scare, then so be it. I could sincerely apologize later.

“Um, well, I suppose you of all people don’t really need a ticket.” Dave said, sweating profusely. “So… your friend… what’s their name? So I can retrieve the order?”

“Scarlet Hehring.” I said, remembering the name that Hill had given me.

Dave’s eyes widened. “A-Are you sure that’s your friend? Not… someone else?”

I frowned. “I’m positive.”

“You’re sure? That’s the order you’re here to pick up?”

Okay, now I was getting annoyed. Annoyed and suspicious. Maybe this guy did know something about the leak. He was certainly being cagey enough about it.

“Yes!” I snapped. “I’m sure about the bloody order, now get it for me!”

Dave let out a small yelp and went to retrieve the order. He came back later with three clear plastic garment bags filled with… well…

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I muttered under my breath.

In each of the clear garment bags, displayed for the entire word to see, were: a schoolgirl uniform, a cheerleading outfit, and a skimpy french maid costume. Each one was ridiculously revealing, and as fetishistic as you could imagine. My face turned bright pink as I stared at them. This was not what I’d been expecting.

Dave meanwhile, was holding the three bags out apprehensively.

“Um… Your order, Captain Carter.” He squeaked. “Th-The charge has already been covered.”

This had to be a joke, right? A prank? Part of me genuinely hoped that it was, because it would completely justify me turning around and marching out of the dry cleaners right then and there. I could go back to The Triskelion, confront the prankster, be pissed off for a little while, then have a laugh about it over a pint.

The problem was, the message that led me here had come from Maria Hill. No nonsense, no sense of humor, no tolerance for anything that might be considered fun, Maria Hill. Which meant this wasn’t a joke or a prank. It was something serious.

So woman up, swallow your damned pride, and take the fucking bags, Carter!

I snatched the three garment bags from Dave’s outstretched hands. (PEGGY: +15SP)(-27SP)

“Thank you.” I muttered, before storming out.

The moment I was outside, I pulled out my communicator.

CAPTAIN CARTER: I’ve acquired the package. Looking for the files now.

SHIELD DIRECTOR MARIA HILL: No. Come straight to my office. I need to make sure this is done right.

I frowned. Was Maria seriously questioning my competence?

CAPTAIN CARTER: I assure you, I know how to find electronics hidden in clothing. I’ll have the files for you in a moment.

SHIELD DIRECTOR MARIA HILL: I can’t take that risk, Carter. This is too big. Too many lives are at stake. There’s a reason I’ve kept this completely off the books. I can’t risk anything falling through the cracks, and tipping off the mole. We’ll never catch him if that happens. I’m risking a lot already bringing you into this. Bring the package directly to my office. Say nothing to anyone before you get here. We can both comb over the contents personally. From there, we can figure out the rest.

I paused. Suddenly this didn’t seem completely above board. Did the circle of trust for this operation really extend to just herself and me? Was Maria really so paranoid as to play things this close to the chest?

I was seriously considering the answer to that question when I remembered the whole ‘Superhuman Registration Act’ debacle. When Maria had cornered me before the bill had even been signed and decided to preemptively arrest me ‘just in case’ I didn’t want to obey that ridiculous law. Who was I kidding? Maria Hill was practically the poster child for irrational paranoia.

I looked at the garment bags in my hand. There was no way to hide their contents. Everyone was going to see them the entire walk to Maria’s office.

I sighed.

CAPTAIN CARTER: I’m on my way. (PEGGY: +10SP)(-17SP)