#agent cross

Chicago, rail capital of the United States, if not the world.  Thousands of trains coming and going, day in and day out, all day everyday.  Since the depression, freight trains have had hobos riding in the ‘side door pullmans’.  While railroads were focused on kicking out the freeloads, the Secret Service was interested in tracking down criminals and spies that might be using the hobo jungles and railroads to get around.  Agent Oliver Cross was assigned to such a task.  In addition to seeking out bolsheviks and other ne’r do wells, Oliver also was tasked to locate what some hobos call the Angel of the Rails.  She had become the focus of the Secret Service since the Flying Pussyfoot Incident.  This woman, Rachel, would make a great agent.  And after running into her undercover at Daily Days, Oliver had a personal reason to run into her again.  But first, he had to find her, if she was even in this rail yard at all.  He headed towards a camp.  He had a newsboy cap, and pea jacket with holes, and gloves missing some fingertips.  He looked like a typical bum, as was the idea.  ‘Hope those acting classes payed off,’ he thinks as he hobbles his way over.

“Keep looking.”

((Thought I tried something different, what do you think? this could be the beginning of a new rp style. Or maybe some repeat of lines I’ve done.))

"Hello.  ....  Yes. .... Yes, we're all waiting.  ....  Good, we're ready."  He hangs up.  "Her majesty is here."  And with that, all the men in the room start tidying up and try to look presentable.  For they were about to come face to face with Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova.

Paris.  1928.  The cosmopolitan center of world.  Artists and authors gather in the city of lights among friends.  In the embassy district, red, white, and blue bunting and flags were everywhere.  France and the United States were doing a year long celebration commemorating the 125th anniversary of the Louisiana Purchase.  There was, as usual, another embassy ball coming up, this time for close friends of politicians, dignitaries, and anyone who has a large wallet.  At the embassy, the ballroom is packed with tuxedos and gowns.  Among them is a young man, whose boyish appearance makes him look younger.  He is Oliver Cross, heir to one of the worlds biggest companies and fortunes.  Even though he is wealthy, he hated being among his snobby, selfish peers.  But tonight, in addition to being a friend of the ambassador, he was here for special reasons.  Among which to further the goals of Cross & Associates, his father’s company, part of the world renowned Charles Financial Group.  The other reason… he’s keeping to himself.

Oliver Cross, Agent of SHIELD, and now on indefinite loan to the JXSDF, had been given odd jobs, no major field work.  Mainly patrols and paperwork.  Japan was consolidating its own "supers" in a program similar to the Avenger initiative.  Cross had been involved in that, but not majorly.  He had a run with a few, and a few youma, but nothing spectacular was his alone.  Now, he was on guard duty, ferrying VIPs to headquarters.  As of right now, he was waiting in his car for two Mech pilots.  Files say they're very elite and two of the best.  Would Cross, see them in action who knows.  He checked his watch, wondering if they knew he was here.

SHIELD was reeling.  Few places seem a safe haven.  Luckily, Agent Oliver was stationed in Japan at the time, and the nation responded accordingly.  He was now on indefinite loan to the JXSDF, Patrol and Spec Ops division.  He was waiting to be shown around the 'special area' of JXSDF.  He was told his experience with being a jet pilot would be useful.  He was waiting for his guide.  One good thing about this, the tea was good.  He took a few sips as he waited.