Interlude: Movements
Principal Morita x The Agent
Midtown High School, New York
Principal Morita shivered; a cold chill brushed past him, the snowfall intensified, schools were already discussing a delayed start, and the unexpected cold front and subsequent snowfall were uncommon. Still, nothing a New Yorker wasn't used to.
Morita's footsteps echoed in the empty hallway; his steps were heavy as he propelled himself down the main hallway. At his office door, he lowered his head, muttered some words, and schooled his face.
He clasped the doorknob and opened it. He strolled in, ignoring the Agent at the offending end of his desk, a saying Morita Sr. famously said when talking about his days as a Commander.
The Agent's countenance was masked, his eyes aglow with the scrutiny. Morita hated that most; the Agent was constantly measuring those he came in contact with; he understood that look; he grew up with another man with the same outlook on the world.
His father's brother referred to it as the "spook." His father was a commando who served in World War II, along with several Japanese-American men and women. Unfortunately, his father did not return from the war. He was assumed dead, along with Captain America and the rest of his regiment. Despite his father's fate, he followed in his father's footsteps and became a war hero.
He took his seat and glanced over at the Agent. "It's always nice to meet with you, but I hope we won't have to keep meeting like this." HE gestured around him. "Maybe over a drink; sometimes, gods know I need one after this evening's problems."
"Quite unfortunate." The Agent hedged.
Morita sighed and said. "Unfortunately, is this snowfall, what occurred is dispiriting; the parents are buying at the doors. I'm afraid the next student council meeting will be about security and safety concerns."
The Agent removed his glasses, and Morita's brows rose in surprise; the man had never removed those shades. "The Agency will endeavor to not let something like that occur again, I promise you, but the parents know why their kids were granted admission."
The two regarded each other. Morita had assumed, but after a much closer look, he was positive; the man was young, at least nowhere near his age; at best, he was in his 30s.
Bewildered at the quietness of his government liaison, Morita continued, getting to the impromptu meat of the meeting. "First, the school board will convene on Monday morning before the first bell; with these recent events, most, if not all, are clamoring for an increased pace in the secondary program of the school.
The Agent nodded. "That's wise. I will sign off on that as well." His hand slowly reached inside his blazer; Morita could see the singe and smell the smoke from the fire at The Baxter building still on the Agent. He had at least washed his best before arriving but recalled that The Agent had participated in the battle.
'The battle was something he would never forget. A green goblin, a man made of bees, and a mutant? Rhino.' He thought to himself.
He read further. "Ah. An earlier conversation has come back to bite me in the ass quite earlier. It's pretty terrifying that he was capable of this. And he's not budging on handing the contracts to anyone?
The Agent nodded. "Clever. Are those behind you going to force the issue? This tech could tip the emerging battlefields worldwide, and it's suspected he has already created one for a military operation."
"Odd. He started these projects here knowing he would be watched, and now he has a buzz around himself. He thinks he's definitely a York; I'm surprised he's just now showing this side. He hadn't used school resources either; government acquisition is your best bet here."
"If he is what we suspect, using the government to take from him could cause him to go to ground. Or worst, defect."
Morita's eyes shifted from the file to the Agent. "He's no soldier like us, Agent; let us not blur that line. I hope the government also understands this has a child first and a citizen second. I recommended the government only if they can dream the tech dangerous."
The Agent shrugged, uncaring. "He's a potential mutant. Laws are already being created, and most will pass about them soon; their abilities threaten national security."
Morita raised his hand, not wanting to go down that road; he was a teacher now, and his duty was to his students, even those he didn't like. The Principal read on.
"You had suspicions, too?" The Agent said, eyes on the file briefly before he stared back at Morita. Morita exhaled, his hands clasped as he leaned back, his eyes closing as he collected his thoughts. He had taken an oath to teach the next generation as his tenure with the military ended. His record, opened facts, and classified, mainly the classified, had garnered him the call to take the position. A position he regrets even more now. He opened his eyes. Besides the man's moniker, his name was oddly classified. He had just spent hours speaking to his parents and the police.
"The tape had been taken; that made me suspicious of you," he paused, grumbled, and apologized, "No, I'm afraid I misspoke; I'm quite worn out. I meant the people behind you, but now I understand it wasn't you, right?" The Agent nodded, his suspicion warranted.
"It wasn't us. I originally thought it was you, but now I'm almost positive who it could be." He hedged.
"Brittney Hammers," Morita spoke first, getting a nod from The Agent.
"She has the background, the know-how, and the tech to circumvent the system and other motives. It was a loop that the techs at the Baxter Building had patched immediately.
"Or Jeremy York." He added. "The videos are inconsequential. Red Hood has the tech or the ability to alter his appearance."
"Red Hood profile doesn't fit Jeremy York. Red Hood is a fighter; his actions are a man, or in his case, a teen on a mission; he has been wronged by criminal elements."
The Principal nodded; he had seen the murderous mutant, now one of his students. He paused, body tensing. The Agent had chuckled lowly, not in laughter but shared concern, which was a mistake. Morita's heart had begun to shudder, but he calmed down and exhaled in relief.
"He's not the serial killer." The Agent said, "Neither is Red Hood. We have discovered something about Jeremy York. My investigation into him after I had suspected him earlier in the week has complicated his situation further." The Agent slid the folder across the table.
Principal Morita scanned the second document; the more he read, the further his brows rose. He paused and looked into the eyes of the Agent.
"Is this accurate?" He asked.
"It has been confirmed." The Agent replied.
"So Samantha York wasn't her name?"
"We're not sure of her birth name or her origins outside of being racially Japanese. We suspect she was a mutant."
"Longevity? What a curse," Morite muttered.
"That to were not sure, but this photo," he pointed at a geisha, was taken around 1806. Yuki was her name then. The other photo was taken around 1950. She went by Samantha, and her birth certificate said Yuko Amatsu."
The Agent had redacted another tidbit. Yuki was a member of The Nail, descendants of the five female ninjas that served the hand as an elite strike team for a thousand years.
The Agent recalled his meeting with the Red Hood. Red Hood had said something alarming and enlightening. S.H.I.E.L.D. was a multifaceted organization with capabilities alien to this world and reality. He had only stumbled across small tidbits, and something required him to meet specific individuals that ensured he wouldn't talk.
"I've no idea who you are, so I will assume you die soon, or your action meant little in the grand scheme. You have no idea what's coming and will come." Those words had brought about an existential crisis because he had heard something similar from another individual he had been forced into meeting and swearing allegiance to.
The Agent's hand went to his ear; Morita quieted and observed. The man stood abruptly. "I'm afraid I will have to depart." He reached for the files, collecting them. "Please understand this information is extremely dangerous in the wrong hands."
"I may not be military anymore, but I wouldn't divulge such sensitive information."
Before the man could turn, Morita asked another question.
"Is she dead?
The Agent halted his hands in his pocket. "We're not sure; there is evidence she may be amongst the living."
Principal Morita
Morita had departed, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before school tomorrow. Unfortunately, that wasn't in his future.
He poured a glass of vodka, his mind whirring with the newfound implications. His phone rang, he ignored it but whoever it was calling continued. He growled as he stomped to the phone.
"This better be important." He said to the person on the other end.
Seconds all it took for his terrible night to decline even more. Once again, Jeremy York was a part of it.
"What do you mean bonuses won't be honored!" Growled the Principal of Midtown High School.
"Some allegation has been brought against the York Family and its board."
"What has that got to do with the school funding." He said, exasperated. He needed that money to pay for his daughter's tuition.
He listened intently. His scowl dropped and formed one of displeasure. He had heard the rumors and whispers amongst the faculty, but he wasn't sure, and now it had been made clear.
"The boy? How? Is he-"He stopped, not wanting to say anything that could be considered his guilt. He was unequivocal that many of them had a role in what occurred and was occurring with the York heir.
"Yes, Mr. Jeremy York had lawyered up. He had applied for emancipation."
Morita snapped his hands. "He can't. On what grounds the Yorks wouldn't allow this right?"
The man on the phone sighed. "He has a wonderful lawyer. He has also sued the state of New York and child protection services. It has been blatantly obvious he was being abused at the orphanage. The judged has honored a reprieve for him."
He groaned, but he also felt pity about the situation. They were aware, but nobody intervened on his behalf.
"Lawyer? He shouldn't have access to his inheritance any-"
"Let me stop you there, Mr. Morita. I'm calling to warn you since we're on good terms, but I'm also tending my resignation from the school. The way this is shaping up, the Yorks won't be in control of the company."
Morita said his goodbyes and stared at the T.V. screen before turning it off, tired of seeing news about more terrorist attacks on the state and around the country.
He dialed another number hesitantly, but his phone rang before he could hit call.
"Morita, sorry for the late call; today had been a disaster." Brittney Hammers said breathlessly. He sighed and began to talk, and it didn't take longer before the two understood that both had received intel on what was occurring.
"Will the school be alright?" he asked, to Morita's displeasure.
"Yes. York's funding comprised about 40% of the school's annual income. I'm more worried about what we have put in place when he returns."
"I was against it. You didn't listen when I tried to tell you he's not the same delinquent he was. I'm not sure what it was, but I think he was hiding and biding his time."
He rolled his eyes, "Sure, Ms. Hammers. Is there anything else? I'm quite tired at the moment."
"It is. Check your email. Jeremy York has opened his father's company, which has been off the books. Supposedly, it was in his inheritance, but the documents and deeds were in the U.K. and Haiti." Morita opened the email, his eyes bulging at the article and the news. He jumped up and grabbed his coat and keys.
He had to return to the school and rectify some things.