No more Guardians. No more Knights. Agents of Protection. Agents of the Future! (The Agency)

The keyboard rattled and tattled away as eight fingers assaulted the keyboard in order to type out the proper words and sentences that would later appear on the paper. The laptop screen had a bright light reflecting off of the Director's glasses, making the look in his eyes estranged to sight. The man had a thousand things on his mind, but all of them driven to a singular purpose. That didn't help the clutter in there, however. With a small sigh he stopped typing and moves hid arms forward, resting his elbows on the pristine white table as he took a wrist in his hand and began to roll his hand. Quickly he switched to the other and looked to the door. Late. Someone was late, but he honestly couldn't be bothered to remember who it was. He glanced down to his screen once more, clicking the security footage throughout all of the Excalibur base.

   "Enter?" A voice came from the other side of the door, the display of an older man appearing on the screen.
   "Of course." Williams answered, returning to his work as the older man stepped into his office. There was a terrible silence within the room as the older man made his way over to the desk, simply standing there with his hands in front of him folded over.

  "The Detroit base has fallen. Recovery teams were sent to salvage whatever they could, but the frost was to much in the core. We could not recover Agent Amalgam's body..." The older Agent said with his eyes closed and a slight sigh, obviously not very happy with the report he had to give. The director just continued typing, as if he were unaffected in the slightest. Of course that wasn't the case, the loss of Agent Amalgam placed their plans on quite the delay. "...Subject Splice is also...unable to be located. As well as Subject Xeno." To this the Director's typing finally stopped, though his eyes never left the computer. It took a moment of agonizing silence before Williams eyebrows furrowed.

  "Do you spell Lobotomy with an "o" or an "a" Masters?" Williams asked, the older Agent sighed and spoke plainly.

  "An o."
 "Ah, an o." He said before pressing a button and then standing up from his desk. Agent Master lowered his head and brought his hand up to massage the bridge of his nose, knowing full well what was about to happen. "I really like the letter O. Because every single day when I sit here, in this chair I look over and nothing- absolutely NOTHING makes me happier than when I see the big green O stumped on a paper that you've signed off. Do you know why I like that O so much Master?"

  "Look, I can-"
  "It's because that O is the beginning of "Objective completed" and "Operation Success". Now, obviously this isn't your fault. This isn't my fault. But, as you know, we've got to keep up on our success. We need to stress the importance of that little green stamp with the O-words on them. Williams said as he looked over to Agent Master's, the older man just shaking his head. "Oh? Am I wrong Agent Masters?"

  "Oh-No. Of course not and you know that Jamison. But the men have become....increasingly anxious around here. Detroit sent out a distress call and you elected to ignore it. I told them to evac-But there weren't enough pods and several people were left to the mercy of that THING and his deranged group. You of all people know Masters. We are ALL expendable. They know this, they signed on for this. Now I understand that Subject Gravitas is a concern, but if we're being honest with ourselves why are we really worried? It was a moment for the information to sink in. The older agent nodded his head and sighed. The younger man's mind was wandering yet again to the thousands of duties he had lined up.

  "Masters...find out where our performance is most lacking. Get me the information within the hour." Williams said, he had a plan, but it would require Masters figuring out some Intel and then reporting back to take his place. Agent Masters smiled a moment and cocked his head just slightly to the side. His eyes narrowed as if he knew what Jamison had been thinking.

  "Taking a vacation?" He asked. Agent Williams just smirked with a scoff behind it.

 "As close to one as I can get."


***********
CHICAGO, IL.
***********

        The Chicago base was in total disarray. The senior Agents and the higher positions were barking orders, trying to get everything into it's proper place. Of the Agents, one was a rather unknown Agent. A simple face amongst the crowd. Agent Tyson Davis, just another face in the crowd. A simple Agent, nothing overly special about him other than perhaps his incredible racism. It was tough for Agents to make a name for themselves, especially in Chicago. After certain people took their leave of the area there was little issue. Forcewave had "vanished" and absolutely no one knew anything about it. The Agency just smiled and denied any knowledge, despite knowing his last known whereabouts being Gadget's laboratory. If that didn't bode terrible enough for  him...then it did Entei, their shackled pet.

   "LET'S GO AGENTS! WE HAVE FIFTY SECONDS!" The senior most agent would call out. Agent Rowlins, a transfer from L.A. He was the protege of Agent Matthew's, the finest marksman The Agency had that wasn't part of the upper Eschelon. He directed the Chicago branch, back when it flourished and thrived in a way that rivaled L.A's base. After a falling our, Rowlins was relocated to L.A, and Matthews assumed control as Director of the Chicago assets. Now, after the untimely death of Agent Matthews at the hands of three metahumans (Subjects Spark, Siren and Masquerade) Rowlins was appointed the role over the Chicago assets, hoping to live up to his predecessor.

 "Line off, Count up!"  He stammered a moment as the red lights went off, the horn blaring a warning noise in everyone's ears. "The Agents that are about to walk through that door are straight from HQ and a top level reconnaissance mission. Know you ranks!" Agent Rowlins said as he stepped forward, the Agents not correcting their superior as he anxiously began to step off the ramp. The entire garage was filled to the bring with Agents. On the metallic cat-walk, on the concrete ground as their leader stepped forward, the large black vehicle pulling into place.

  The vehicle was HQ standard, not even a transport of an upper Echelon. Yet somehow it was so much better than any vehicle they had at their disposal. Matthews had always invested in their transportation, deeming it the most important part of their assets. Rowlins shifted the costs to upgrade weapons, and with his poor choices it was a ton of weapons that weren't of the best quality. Truthfully, Rowlins was a great shot, but he was a horrible director. The Agent's glasses and shades al went off and the information of the car was displayed. It was a large block, smoothed rounded edges with some yellow strips and black lines on it's rough and tough black surface. The headlights were a bright blue color that actually had a secondary purpose.

Information on the Glasses:

 The hyper-quiet engine slowly lowered and the doors opened, revealing exactly whom had been sent from HQ. The first to exit was Agent Daniels, following him was Agent Nerovii, and following him was another Agent of renown and then finally none other than Agent Williams himself! Fixing his tie and stretching his neck, the Godslayer simply walked by, completely ignoring the fact he was the center of attention. He moved past Agent Rowlins and simply left the garage, heading into the main base. Nerovii stepped forward and nodded to Daniels behind his paint-ball mask like covering as his black cloak draped over him like he was the goddamn batman. His boots lightly clicked as he signaled for Agent Daniels to speak, revealing the purpose as to why they were there.

Roamers may not have all been part of the higher echelon, but they were elite none the less. These were the special class of Agents, called in for sensitive missions of high difficulty. No matter what you worked on in the Agency, you could be a Roamer, and that's what Daniels was when he wasn't directing his division of the best forensic Agents in the whole Agency. Nerovil, Nemesis, himself, they were all called in by Williams to deal with the mess that was in Chicago.

It was a little below their pay grade, if you were to ask Daniels. Why were they being called in to clean up that fool Rowlins' mess? Surely there were others that were more practical to use, but he took the order without question, as always. Clearly the director believed this to be important enough to be here in person, and not to mention call in some of the best Roamers around. So, Michael would take this as very important.

Truly, the HQ was in shambles. Rowlins may have been a wonderful shot, but he wasn't a leader, not beyond a few trainees. He belonged in the field. Why they ever left him in charge Daniels didn't know. Though the Agents seemed all in line, you could tell they didn't have the tough leadership that was found in Daniels' division. Funding had been thrown off of transport and into weapons, and horrible ones at that. Everyone was barking orders and there was no rhyme or reason to it. Clutter was everywhere as well. The administration was terrible from the choice of stable guns to the upper leadership. Michael was about to eat this place alive.

He was the first to step out of the high tech vehicle, which some in the lines of Agents stared at as if they had never seen one. In truth they had, but they had little access to this with Rowlins at the helm. These brilliant men and woman needed someone even more brilliant to lead them, not someone who was their equal. A sheep can't lead a herd of sheep. Agent Nerovii gave him a look, and Daniels nodded, stepping forward and grabbing the attention from the crowd of Agents.

"I'm not going to sugar coat this, I'm frankly disgusted with what i see and from what i hear as well. This headquarters has fallen into disarray because of what? A lack of activity? No, if there is a lack of activity you don't weaken, you use it to get stronger! Now we're here to get this HQ back into order, and you will all do well if you help us finish that task quickly. If i see anyone out of line, I'll have them sent back to basic training in the blink of an eye, or maybe I'll have them shine my shoes. Am i understood?" Daniels said, addressing every Agent in the room, some of them nodding but most just standing silently, like good little soldiers. At least they still had the discipline to keep their mouths shut.

"Good....." Daniels said, stepping down from the point of elevation and making a B-line to Agent Rowlins. He had made his presence known to the rank and file, now he was going to make it known to the half assed director of this dump.

"Please tell me why your funding has been shifted to weaponry when this area has enjoyed its lowest amount of metahuman activity in years..... I swear, such irrational decision making and lack of administration is what cost us Detroit. I want this place built up and reorganized. Shift your focus from guns Rowlins, i know how much you like them, but we have other priorities." Daniels said, a little condescendingly. Michael really did lack respect for this man. But before he could bitch him out some more, his eyes caught a low ranking Agent staring directly at him. The eye contact remained for awhile as Daniels stood in front of Rowlins, and then he motioned for the man to come over. Daniels had no idea who this man was, but those in the HQ knew him as Agent Davis.

"You. Come here." Daniels said. He was going to put one of Rowlins' Agents to the test. He doubted in such a headquarters they were up to his standards, but perhaps the Agents were doing better then the base.

Work had become his life, and Joshua pursued it with all the tenacity one can without making a fool of themselves. Now was no different really, he was after all called in when they needed to clean things up. Luckily, The Agency had a tendency to not leave a single bit of information out when it came to situations like this and that meant that he was never working with anything less than everything they had. There was always a certain trepidation before each mission, one that left him slightly nervous and yet that always faded away before the big event. ”One, two three, four...” He counted to himself, making sure that his weapons were all loaded before he hazarded to run into any manner of battle. If the intel had been correct, so many of them would not have gathered for a friendly picnic. That honestly did not sound like something this agency would do anyway.

Nemesis arrived at the Chicago Branch, aware of the chaos that was happening due to the agents having become a disorganized mess. He had been told that it was part incompetent leadership and another pat the fact that some prominent agents had gone and bitten the dust. Terrible alright, but there was nothing he could do for the dead when he could help the living. Personally he did not have too much contact with this Agent Rowlens, but not much was said when it came to their leadership skills, though marksmanship was excellent. Nemesis entered the base itself the same as the more high profile types, his eyes scanning over the various agents for the ones that were of some importance. There were a few faces of interest, one of them being the very director of The Agency itself.

Things have gotten a lot more interesting now. Similar to agent Nerovii, his choice in clothing was not exactly in line with the clean looking and likely impressive looking suits they ran around in. Granted, he chose to keep a certain professional air about him with a pair of black slacks and a semi-casual shirt, the leather jacket itself was just something he felt comfortable with, as well as the bulletproof vest underneath it. He had ridden along with in the rather high tech vehicle, absently feeling over the well concealed shackle. It was inactive but it was a reminder, of what he had done and perhaps his commitment as well. Daniels stepped out first, making a few statements as Nemesis would do the same. Rather than saying anything, he kept his silence with arms crossed over his chest. He was aware of the things that were said, and how in some agents suspicion was inspired but then again he hadn’t done this for them.

Well not directly anyway.

Honestly he found Daniels chewing the agent out rather amusing, but he didn’t let that show beyond a subdued smirk as things continued, and he called on an agent for whatever reason. This would be interesting indeed.

The time was upon the agents. They had all failed, and while Davis was being recognized for what was the most valiant effort, that accolade meant nothing to the higher ups. He stood still like a soldier recounting the events. The fuck ups they all had. He felt like punching Rowlins in the teeth, god he couldn't stand that guy.

Deep down Rowlins knew Davis was a better sharp shooter than he was and it ate him alive. Even when Rowlins offered them all new weapons, Ty kept his personalized equipment. He was consistent. He was collected. Most importantly, he was efficient.

The special vehicle rolled in and Tyson couldn't help but look to who had arrived. First was the leader of the forensic department. He had heard stories bout how good this man was.
How he could do things at crime scenes most wouldn't believe.
Of course Davis had never seen him in action, but his stature spoke more than any of the urban legends had.

The next to catch his eye was Agent Williams. The man who had been at his graduation from the agency training. He showed great promise in his class, and he remembered a brief eye down during the ceremony. However he had not exchanged many words with Williams personally. From the way that guy acted, he doubted her ever would.

Next was Agent Nemesis. Someone who truly made his skin crawl. He was one of the very creatures that brought Davis down this dark path. As far as he was concerned, Nemesis was Agency property, and nothing more than a tool or a weapon. He would love nothing more than to show Nemesis that his powers were meaningless. However between protocol and his loyalty to the agency. He would treat Nemesis with respect.

As he saw Rowlins getting his ass chewed out, yet again. Good.
"What a brown nosin' pickle sniffer." he thought to himself.
The future shoe shine boy deserved it. He was in no position to be a leader of any sort. Not that Ty felt himself to be yet. However, many of his accomplices would be much better for the roll.

He had stayed silent during Daniels' shoe shine threat. Like that would ever happen. However he had nothing but respect for the man. As Daniels walked by he looked him square in the eye.
He got called out of the crowd.

Walking forward Tyson stood at attention for Agent Daniels, arms tucked and crossed behind his back, and facing forward. A respect sign he never quite shed from his military days.
"Agent Davis reporting sir. What do you require of me?" his thick Boston accent showing.
Maintaining his look forward he assumed Daniels would have orders for him.

Amid the crush of Agents stood a figure that did not stand out. She was not tall or particularly strong. In fact, at times, Agent Sarah Jardin felt like a token "pretty face." Still, at the moment she stood at attention, looking somber, lost among th many.

In spite of the current Chief's miscalculations, Sarah had recieved special permission to use her own weapons rather than the junk he had had shipped in. Lucky her...

As the tank arrived she could not help but wonder once more why this intervention was happenning. The higher ups had assigned Rowlins as head of this section, yet now they were having buyers remorse?

Sarah strained to get a glimpse as the higher-ups exited the vehicle. She recognized the Agency's head, Williams. But aside from him, she was not sure.

Either way, she had nothing to do for the time being, aside from listening to the words and reprimands of the Senior Agent.

Agent Rowlins was the epitome of shame, and didn't have much to say in response. Of course that was only because he knew full well to wait for his permission to speak. Once he had it, on the other hand, he would be quite frank in how he responded.

 "Sir I'm only following the plans left behing by Agent Matthews" He replied, that defense clearly valid in his own eyes. There was a tone of disatisfaction in his voice, a glare hidden behind his glasses while his face plaed the part of a stoic soldier under fire. Agent Davis had come over and presented himself with his thick boston accent. Rowlins was convicned the poor Agent was about to be lectured as well, if not utilized as a display of just how sloppy the operation had gotten.

 "Agent Daniels, We should allow these Agents to resume basic operations." Nerovii's voice whispered to Daniels, the slight hiss and rasp present for only a second as his natural base seemed to reverb in a smooth manner. He then pointed to Nemesis with a motion of his head and cocked his head towards the door twice, signaling for him to move on with his objective. His objective, was to oversee the re-institution of every Agent. Ever Agent would train with Nemesis from now on. Agent Daniels was the newest director of operations, and Agent Nerovii was the overseer of affairs, meaning if Daniels or Nemesis screwed up, it was his head the Godslayer would have.

  Sector one Agents report to the training room with Nemesis. Group one. from Agent's Abrahms to Jardin. Nerovii's hands began to move and display the meaning he wished to convey. He began to sign the instructions for them. Several agents began to walk away, the eyeglasses providing more of enough a decryption of their new leader's sign language. The instructions were simple. The Agents with the last name of A to the end of J were to report to the training room with Agent Nemesis to be reevaluated on their combat techniques. The rest, well...if Daniels wasn't adressing them they were likely to continue their basic opertions. A base this size didn't take care of itself....and apparently they didn't take care of it either.

"I don't care if you're following Godslayer's plans, if an HQ is this disorganized and weak under your watch it is YOUR responsibility. I hope to see better from you, Rowlins." Daniels shot back right after calling Davis up. The man stood at attention, and spoke with a thick Boston accent. He was disciplined at least. He was about to get to the point of why he called the man up, but then Agent Nerovii reminded him that the Agents needed to stop gawking and get back to working. He looked at the crowd that still seemed aimless, a sneer on his face.

"Go on, go on, get back to the grind. Jesus, do we have to tell you to blink?" Michael said, and immediately the Agents moved to get back to their work, the ones that weren't being called to combat training that is. Even though Davis was due to go as well, he was going to keep the man for a second.

"Anyway........ You're a military man correct? Boston native........ Perhaps affected by the tragedy that spread there after the portal? That's what sent you here right?" Daniels said, circling the man. He was your average racist Agent, spurred on by the events in New York and Boston. But what separated him from the others that were previously standing in the room, was his discipline. Daniels was curious, so he moved to pull Davis' firearm from it's holster, looking it over.

"And, he doesn't use the junk you issued, Rowlins." Michael said, holding onto the gun for a moment. He had already taken Substance B earlier, while he was looking over some clothing found at the scene of a trainee Agent's death. So, he saw the guns history, further and further back, getting flashes of shots and deaths. This was a gun that didn't miss often. He handed it off to Davis.

"You're a pretty good sharpshooter, Davis, and a decent Agent. Sadly many of these others don't even make the mark of average. Get to combat training." Daniels said quickly, then simply walked off. He had no more business with Rowlins, and he wasn't going to let the man say one decent Agent was proof of his competence when the whole place looked run into the ground. He moved out of the garage and into the base, reprimanding a few people as he passed and generally getting the basic operations up to his standards.

Joshua had expected  Daniels to deliver some manner of humiliating display but in the end that did not end up happening. Despite following the plans of the now dead agent, it appeared that either the plans were no good or they were not competent enough to actually do anything with these plans. Though he did find the thick Boston accent slightly amusing, something he hadn’t heard aside from in the occasional television show. Likely they would have done something, but Agent Nerovii said something to disrupt the potential speech, suggesting they do what they were meant to do. He had become accustomed to their nonverbal manner of speech well enough to know what they wanted, and he would go along without any measure of complaint. This base had a training room, something that was projected on his glasses and appeared to be around the same location as in the last base he was settled in.

His eyes swept over the agents, taking in any that seemed interesting before motioning for them to follow him using the universal gesture. Once that was done, he would lead them to the training room, silently letting the glasses lead him through potentially unfamiliar hallways until he reached said location. Nothing out of the ordinary still, it would suffice for what he was supposed to do. A good portion of the agents likely would have followed him, most likely having some manner of reserve against having to deal with a metahuman, especially when it came to their training. It was either that or just something he expected them to be thinking in the back of his mind.

”I’ll get straight to the point.” He said, holding his hands behind his back. ”Most of you have been performing below expected levels and that’s why you’re here with me today.” His voice was tinged with an easily identifiable southern twang, coloring his words in the most interesting of ways. He paced, the sound of his boots hitting the ground palpable to those close enough. ”Whether it’s because of the incompetence of your commanding officers or the whole, well that’s someone else’s job to point fingers about. We’re here for training, a little refresher and then we can work from there. I’m not going to hold any hands, so try to keep up.” He gauged expressions behind black shades, stopping in his pacing motions.

He directed a finger towards around three people, Agent Jardin, Agent Davis and another, motioning for them to come forward. The three would form a good outlier for the standard of the agents in the barracks. A lesser performing agent, moderate and then one they called exceptional, something he could base his training methods off of.  ”I need you three for a little demonstration. I reckon you three can handle yourselves.”

As he stood at attention he began answering the questions Daniels sent his way.
"Yes sir. My child was murdered by that son of a bitch who attacked OUR planet sir. I decided to stop arrestin' metahumans that would only break out for me to catch again, and took up the opportunity that was sent my way."

Daniels circled him and Davis wasn't sensing any ill intentions coming his way.
"While I respect Agent Rowlins, he doesn't seem to quite understand importance of state of the art weaponry sir, in order to perform up to Agency standards I intend to make the most of what I have. Thank you for pointin' out my accolades sir."

He felt proud of himself. Finally someone around here was noticing his ability. However it was short lived. Davis noticed swarms of people filing together. He wanted to make his late son proud with this job. He wanted to avenge him. He wanted to take out every last metahuman piece of filth this world had to offer. He wasn't even close to his goal, however every step was one less piece of garbage to take to the dump.

He began to follow the crowd to training. "I can outgun any of these people. I hope to be able to display that." he thought to himself.

As he entered the room Nemesis began to speak.
"We'd be standing where you are too if we were fuckin' dogs of the Agency too you prick."
Sure he couldn't speak his true feelings as the agency would see it way out of line. On top of that he felt maybe one day this fucker might owe him a favor. His southern accent calmed the tension though. He no longer wanted to put a bullet between his eyes,
he was just listening to the man speak.

Of course he was brought forward. Daniels pointed him out Earlier so Nemesis was going to piggy back off his mentor.
The feeling of hostility returned.
He stood at attention for Josh.
"Yes sir." he spoke preparing for anything that came his way.
"A demonstration?" he thought to himself with a smile forming.

So, Sarah had been singled out by Nemesis for training. She wondered about the omen of being partnered with the sites best marksman. This fact had never been disputed or questioned but what did this say about her own skill?...

Unlike most Agents, Sarah had no hatred towards metas...not to Nemesis and not towards her own kin. She shared the recognition that metas were more capable of mayhem than most but beyond that, she was in the minority.

Standing before her superior, Agent Jardin asked, "What are the rules for this...demonstration?" The young woman was a bit anxious. For most of her carreer i the Agency, she had been stuck behind a desk, playing a glorified secretary. Perhaps now she would have the chance to show her mettle and finally see a field assignment...

Agent Nerovii began to wander around, looking almost aimlessly as he observed every which person. Nerovii was in fact one of the Agency's best and brightest...even if he did seem a bit...sothful and lazy at the moment. Nerovii found his way to the nearest bench and sat down, lazily leaning backwards and closing his eyes as Nemesis began to teach and offer up his instructions.

His mind was buzzing with all the information. He wondered if Nemesis was catcing the vibe that the Agent speaking to Daniels was giving off. He was a new Agent...he hid it well, but being an Agent meant being able to read an Agent. After all, how else were you supposed to spot talent? The Agent n question, though he hated Nemesis for unknown reasons surely didn't look favorably upon him. It was disheartening, as the man had talent. You could see in how he held himself, how he was poised.

Oh well...time for a nap....


and so Nerovii napped.

"..........Gavins, why is your desk a mess of noodle cups and pop cans?" Daniels said, looking around the office of the supposedly skilled Agent Gavins. His office looked like a bomb went off, and by bomb i mean some college kids seemed to have studied there all night. Daniels was actually quite disgusted by it all, and his angered demeanor showed it.

"I-i'm sorry sir, I'll get it cleaned up." Gavins said nervously from behind the desk.

"That isn't an answer!" Daniels yelled, not overly loudly but enough to make sure the Agent knew he meant business.

"Because...... Because i forgot to clean it all up." Gavins said, still nerved up.

"You forgot to clean it up when you knew that we were coming to take over operations and inspect everyone?" Daniels asked, clearly not amused.

"Yes..... Yes i did." Gavins answered, ashamed.

"Unbelievable....... Get this cleaned up, or you won't have an office to keep organized." Daniels said as he walked out of the room. It was just about time for the demonstration, and he had bitched out enough people for them to start shaping up, so he intended on watching. He wanted to see the quality of Agent coming out of this HQ.

When he got there, standing in the back, he saw that Davis and another were the ones to be called up. Looks like he would see if this guy really was a good shot.

His eyes scanned over the three arrayed before him, different levels of skill within this area and all of them likely still credits to the human race. After all, if they were made agents, then they were not your average people being brought into the fold. Unless of course someone had let quality slip that much, which would have just looked bad on them at a whole. His eyes however focused upon Davis, catching up every nuanced gesture, twitch of their facial muscles to gauge them as a person. His lips remained in a line, as he looked him over before moving to the others. From what he could tell two of the three were nervous and one held an almost unsettling amount of hostility towards him. His glasses scanned over the male, giving him all information available to an agent of his rank and finding something interesting.

He let out a small interested hum, considering the loss that seemed to explain any hostility towards him. He paced for a few more seconds, before addressing the three before him. ”First I want to get a feel on your skills as far as hand to hand is concerned, just a little….test.” He noted, walking a good few yards away from the three before turning on his heels. The room itself was wide open, large enough to be called a sort of arena and that was perfect for him. Whether he had anything else to further test them, well he could go through this after the first test was done. He cracked his knuckles, the joints producing little crackling sounds as he let them take their positions to prepare for their little spar.

”So this exercise is pretty simple. All three of you come at me with all you got, no holdin back.” He said, slightly shifting into a sort of combat stance as if waiting for them to move. ”I’ll let you three make the first move.”

Agent Davis knew of Nemesis. He knew this man had a huge ranking. However they had been given the same training and Davis was the most competent of this particular branch as of now.
"Let's do this." Davis spoke cracking his knuckles.

Remembering back to his agency training, he went over hand to hand moves in his mind. There were three he could think of to display his peak human ability.
"Got it."

Waiting for the other two to make their moves, he wasn't sure they could keep up and truthfully didn't want them to make him look bad, so he went first. The obvious option, but sometimes the obvious option is the best one.

Davis ran at Nemesis, and used his momentum to pull into a handstand.
He began spinning on his hand throwing kicks similar to a helicopter's propeller.

This was his own take on a move he was taught. Following up, he did a back handspring. And launched himself over the head of Nemesis.
Once behind him, he threw a roundhouse kick, followed by dropping to the ground and going for a leg sweep.

"This guy is no joke." he let slip under his breath.

Agent Jardin, like Agent Davis, was better with a gun than she was at hand-to-hand.  In fact, it had been her brother who had pushed her into martial arts.  Unlike her brother, who focused on jujutsu, Sarah had favored the more utilitarian art of Krav Maga: she was E2, equivalent to a black belt.

Instead of rushing the far more experienced Agent, Sarah noticed Davis tense.  So he would be the first to move.  Instead, she signaled for the other Agent, one she did not know off hand, to circle around to the right as she herself shifted left.

Meanwhile, she studied the fight. By now, Davis was demonstrating his rather elaborate techniques, a version of capoeira if she had to guess. The wide sweeping attacks could likely generate a great deal of force if they connected but they proved an equal problem for allies. This meant she would have to keep her distance, though she did begin sliding closer. Better to be closer, just in case she saw an openning.

Hopefully the third man had similar ideas...