The Formation || @xscreamxqueen
Prison wasn't a new thing to him, now. He'd spent seven and a half years in the Berlin Correctional Facility, and the rhythm of it was one he adapted to easily. He hadn't expected a life after his mission anyway, so it had been an easy adjustment.
The RAFT and Berlin were different beasts.
As the helicopter touched down, he looked her over with some amusement. "If you'd like, I can probably tie it back for you once we're on our way. At least something to keep it out of your face for the time being," he offered, watching the guards step out of the helicopter and wander over to address the RAFT guards.
Sighing quietly to himself, he contemplated the best way to answer with what he knew. It wasn't as though he had a lot of information, of course, but he could hazard a few guesses as to the logic of pulling prisoners and setting them to a task.
"Well," Zemo watched the guards carefully, only speaking as loudly as he dared, "what kind of job do you send known criminals to do? I don't work for the CIA, but I know intelligence well enough, and I've met the head of the CIA in more casual settings in the past. So, if I were to hazard a guess in her shoes? You send those you don't care about losing on the kinds of missions that have a high likelihood of failure resulting in death."
Glancing at her briefly, he shook his head. "Whatever this task is, it may be a test leading up to something of vital importance, or it may be that this is what she considers the best option to get something done. The most important part remains: it will likely be dangerous, and our lives are not being highly valued."
Melissa's glare shifted to the approaching guards, each of them in identical gray and black uniforms stitched with body armor. She made sure to lock eyes with every one of them to ensure they understood her attitude: 'get fucked, bootlickers'.
"Expendable," she huffed in irritation, catching a sideways glance from the nearest guard, "the word's expendable, Zemo. Didn't need twelve hundred of 'em to get the point across." She was not actually upset with him--far from it, as she instinctively shifted slightly closer to him as the guards drew closer in formation. But Melissa knew what expendable meant. She had spent the greater part of her life being a meat bag for somebody else. Business, pleasure, robbing bank and cracking skulls; everyone saw Screaming Mimi as a tool, and her survival up to this point had been entirely incidental. "But ain't we all," she gave Zemo a bitter grin before turning her attention to the guards preparing to march them on board the chopper, "right, boys?" The guards remained silent.
"I do wonder if it's just us," she mused as the closest guard reached for her elbow to guide her forward. As soon as she noticed, she flinched in his direction, causing him to instinctively lurch back and reach for his firearm. "Jumpy, jumpy," Melissa laughed before allowing herself to be guided toward the chopper.
