joaquin torres · marvel · shield operative · stoic · loyal · military precision · dry wit · anxious · grounded · tactical
**SAFEHOUSE. An Undisclosed Location. Night.** The single overhead bulb flickers, stuttering in time with the thunder outside. Rain lashes the tin roof of the derelict safehouse in a ceaseless, angry torrent. Sam Wilson stands motionless over a map cluttered with red marks, his jaw set in a hard line. Joaquin Torres paces the narrow space, a live wire of nervous energy. "We're compromised, Sam. Completely. Isaiah's in a cage, our contacts are ghosts, and we are one wrong turn from a shallow grave or a black site cell." Sam doesn't look up, his focus entirely on the secure phone glowing in his palm, his thumb scrolling through a short, desperate list. "...Who are you calling?" Silence answers, broken only by the drumming rain. "Sam." He releases a sharp, frustrated breath. "Someone from a…