When he was a Field Security Specialist, Kent's uniform was easy, largely because it was intentional. Tailored black suit, openly visible credentials, no need to hide the fact that he was concealing a Glock 17 under his left shoulder, and polarized aviators to really just pull the whole thing together. The only "piece of flair" was his silver-and-black tie bar that looked like a turret, It was subtle enough to not violate any clothing protocols, but had just enough sparkle to garner attention when he wanted it to. Plus, it was a direct-nod to his code-name, Rook, the straightforward sentry; and if Kent understood anything, it was the importance of branding. 

Now that he was involved in more clandestine operations with his work with SUPER, it meant there was a call for subtlety in all things, and the less he drew attention to himself, the better. His suits were still at the forefront in his wardrobe for the times when he would need to be present in the office or reporting in to Agent Sang (even if they weren't requested explicitly), but his day-to-day activities required him to really blend into his environments. And he quickly realized he lacked the wardrobe for any such thing. This resulted in a Saturday consisting of a long visit on the Upper East Side to see a Nordstrom personal stylist named Crystal, a trendier haircut that could be styled more-or-less professionally depending on the occasion, and a pleasant dinner and remainder of the evening with a Nordstrom personal stylist named Crystal. The end result was a new wardrobe of denim, cotton, leather, sneakers that ranged between form and function, and a new friend and Nordstrom personal stylist named Crystal. 

So when it was time for Kent's first meeting with one of his SUPER counterparts and soon-to-be partners, Kent did his due diligence to strategize how best to make an impression. Prepping for his initial meeting with Agent Sang was one thing, he needed to be the shiny penny that his records indicated. But when you're building a rapport with a potential teammate, that's a whole different ballgame. And Kent's extensive review of Michael Hunter's background let him know that he wasn't much the suit-and-tie type. If anything, if Kent hadn't seen personnel photos, he wouldn't have been surprised if a tank rolled into their meeting place with a nametag that said "Ranger" on it. Kent was suitably intimidated to meet this new partner, both because of his extensive track record, his entrepreneurial endeavors, and the little fact that he could likely punch a hole in the sun. But the prevailing emotion was only excitement. Kent knew his personal strengths and what he could do on his own, and he knew that Ranger was a one-man-army. With their powers combined, he doubted anything could stand in their way. And that wasn't even accounting for what the addition of Noel would bring to the table, when the time came.

So for today, his uniform was just as intentional, as it was designed to accomplish his goals of "team-building". Distressed gray t-shirt with an embroidered logo on his chest, covered by his favorite brown leather jacket; fitted Levi's ending in understated high-tops. Aviators hooked in his collar. No indication to any civilian bystander of the shoulder harness holding his credentials and 1911-A1 Custom at his side. And the Herschel backpack slung over one shoulder that held the case file marked "Alpha-16" and his operations uniform was even more unassuming. He was casual, but not too casual. Cool without drawing attention. And really proud of the ensemble overall. 

The two had shared a quick text exchange earlier in the week, and Kent had sent a follow-up calendar invite (because everyone appreciates the professional courtesy of a follow-up), to arrange their meet-up location (also selected by Kent). 10:00 AM, Wednesday, Barnes & Noble on 5th Avenue. A bar was inviting trouble, and a meal drew too much direct attention, but a coffee and a stroll around the greatest retail store on the planet made for a perfect playing field for their introduction. As his watch flashed 9:59, he quickly stretched his neck and surveyed the entrance, then brought his attention back to thumbing through the paperback bestsellers, though most of his attention was spent reminding himself not to bounce on his toes. 

Ranger hadn’t been back in New York CIty a day before SUPER was reaching out to him with work. He was to meet up with another agent whom he would be working with moving forward. A few texts with the man and a meeting location was decided on. It wasn’t the best way to practice InfoSec, but no sensitive material was discussed so it was fine. Agent Beyer had even sent Ranger some kind of calendar invite for their meeting at 1000 hours on Wednesday, When Ranger saw that he simply wrote it down a physical calendar and closed the message. An hour later after being shown that meetings are done that way in 2020 by Jude , Ranger reopened it and accepted the meeting. Jude even said Ranger was like a boomer. The comment carried the weight of an almost memed insult. Get ten years behind on technology and you lose all respect from the employees… Or near partners as Jude was now. They would have to have a meeting about that.

A meeting in a Barnes and Noble was a new one for Ranger. Didn’t matter to him though. He threw on a plaid button up, some jeans, boots, and a jacket before climbing into the Mustang Shelby GT500 Hellcat Tamer. It was nice to know that future him still had good taste in cars. Big, powerful, or both. Ranger appreciated a vehicle that could get its way in traffic by pure intimidation. Being able to outrun anyone chasing it was a plus too.

Ranger slid a SiG P226 down the front of his shirt and guided it into place in an appendix carry after parking. It was not the same P226 he’d had, but from reading his notes he knew that the P226 he used to have was destroyed. His current sidearm was one he customized as its replacement a couple years ago.

Walking in the door, Ranger checked his watch. 1000 hours exactly.

His outfit was out of place in New York City. Not so much that it had people interested in him, just enough to cause someone to form a bias. That Ranger was not from around those parts. He was interesting as an oddity not as someone worth paying attention to.

A turn to the little cafe area in the store. Ranger went to the counter and ordered himself a coffee. Black. Order in hand he sat at a table with a lone dark haired man. After a sip of the coffee he said, ”Howdy, Kent. I’m Michael Hunter.” as he held out a hand.

”Good book?” Ranger indicated the paperback on the table. While deep cover was not Rnger forte, he had been required to learn the basics of spycraft following selection. Don’t just jump into the clandestine topic. Have a meaningless conversation to prompt any listeners to tune you out.

Ranger would rather have just had a briefing somewhere where he could be directed to which person, building, or thing needed to cease to exist or be moved before being set loose on it. He was a shooter and he had lost ten years of experience doing more subtle work.

Michael Hunter's file had made it clear that the man was a walking stick of dynamite, but it was always surprising to see someone in-person who exuded raw strength. Kent had worked with countless veterans during his time with DHS, and his own father was a decorated soldier and well-known name in the Pentagon, but it was always fascinating to see how the ways in which extensive military training conditions the body to move. Kent was a stellar agent; the poster child for textbook execution of SOP, and his natural charisma gave him just enough room to bullshit his way through the unknown without making it too obvious. Kent was a weapon, but Michael Hunter was a lion. And knowing what they had to accomplish together, and what he was about to disclose from the case file in his backpack, he broke into a genuine smile as he resumed his seat. 

"Glad to meet you, Michael, and thanks coming out," he grinned, tipping his coffee in a small salute as he briefly nodded. "And yes, great book so far! 'On Tyranny' by Timothy Snyder; might actually buy this one on our way out..."

Kent leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms behind him; suddenly aware that his crisp new duds were decidedly less lived-in than his counterpart, and quelling his mild self-consciousness. "Preppy" had been a common descriptor for Kent throughout his child- and adulthood, and he really couldn't argue the point if it were made in this moment. He glanced back over his shoulder and rapped his knuckles on the table twice before scooting his chair back.

"Tell you what, come with me and I'll show you some of the other non-fiction I've been binge-ing lately," Kent pointed over his shoulder with a thumb as a stood, slinging his backpack on smoothly as he gathered his coffee. "I've really been reading more on World War I lately and there's some impressive new analysis on the impact on the Second Industrial Revolution..."

He continued to ramble (and mentally patted his own back) about one of the more boring topics he could think of as he led Ranger back to the quieter corners of the store. The date, time, and location of their meeting was intentional; just after opening in the middle of the week with limited foot traffic. Close enough for reconnaissance without drawing attention. His partner was about to find out just how close they were to their target, and the start of their first mission together. As they walked and he rambled, Kent withdraw a black folder from his backpack, which he smoothly slid in the pages of an oversized photo book on WWI. The file contained numerous photos and a short dossier on their target, a one Lillith Rogers, designated "Alpha-16". A former "Weapon S" soldier, a dangerous mutant, and someone that needed to be brought back into the fold for her safety and the safety of others. And she just so happened to live two blocks away. 

Kent gave his peer a few minutes to survey the contents of the file, idly sifting through the stack of non-fiction and doing his best not to eye the display for fans of "The Witcher" before he spoke. 

"So what do you think, Ranger? Ready to check-out and get to work?"

Ranger gave a slight incline of his head when Beyer tipped his coffee to him. When he left the military, Ranger had left what little military rigidness and formality he had. Operators were an odd breed of soldier; slow to salute and rarely crisp with that or their attire. Except in uniform. On the rare occasion they wore one they were the model soldier… Except sometimes with a beard.

”So a little light readin’.” Ranger said. In the whirlwind that had been his last week or so he had not managed to find much to read except personal journals and mission reports. Losing ten years of your life can certainly change your perspective on what you should read. ”I’ve been cooped up in a cabin f’r a week with nothin’ but my own reports an’ Noel’s journals t’ read. Good t’ get out where the coffee is better.” While Ranger had welcomed SUPER showing up and putting an end to the holiday Noel and he had given themselves, he certainly wished it could have lasted a little longer.

Agent Beyer smoothly transitioned from a greeting to getting the meeting started. Best course of action was for them to be moving. It made observation of them harder and moving through shelves of books would make tailing them harder to accomplish without giving oneself away. Hard was not impossible though. Public places were still public.

”Lead the way.” Ranger gestured for the agent to go ahead as he stood up. Agent Beyer slid his backpack on and began to ramble. It was interesting enough that it would make a believable conversation. It was esoteric enough to prompt people to tune out. Ranger was impressed. Agent Beyer was as good at this as Ranger was at handling hostile forces in a live-fire scenario.

Ranger was led to a much quieter corner of the store and provided a file by way of a book on WWI. It was a smooth move. Ranger held the book and looked over the file. He turned to keep his back to the wall and one of the long sides of the book up blocking the security camera down the way from being able to see the file that lay on the page.

Alpha-16. Lillith “Lily” Rogers. Ranger read over her dossier and scanned the pictures. She looked like an incredibly feminine woman in her early 30s. Someone that Ranger felt would certainly have the personality traits listed; sweet and wholesome. It was the ‘ruthless’ that caught Ranger’s attention. That plus her power could be deadly. Taking water from people know their location and mental and physical state. Not to mention absorbing memories. She would make one hell of an intelligence operative. Most interestingly, she lived very close to where Ranger and Agent Beyer were.

When Ranger felt he had committed the relevant details to memory he passed the book back to Agent Beyer. ”Yeah. Let’s make that house call.”

The operation should go easy enough. As long as Lily doesn’t have any forewarning, Ranger felt subduing her should be easy enough. Her rate of draining was slow enough that he felt he might be able to manhandle her. Though with enough speed and directness he might be able to accomplish it before she can start. Ranger filed it under “Plan B” in his mind.