Knock Knock
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It's just one of those busy days on the SHIELD network, when Trent attempts to reach out to his white-knight hacker from the van.

MR. PINK: To think, no honor among thieves.

Trent, a man who takes his computers and hacking seriously, has been investigating into who might have been able to get into his systems. The first was obviously Sterns. The second? That's who he wants to find. A few hits into his search is a 'Mr. Green'. It takes a lot of digging, but he starts to see a pattern. It starts to make sense. Then, finally, he finds a way to contact him. Not his place or residence - that's not what he's looking for - just a contact.

Dear Mr. Green,

I am curious about your hacking methods. You managed to get into a security wall I personally set up, however you helped me, so I'm not here to turn you in or anything. Got a hard on for Sterns?

Trent

The wait time's enough to forget the endeavor. To have moved on. Except, this is Trent, and this is SHIELD, and there's always an available computer screen for a small chat-box — simple: white text on black, not: blocked users and code traps — to open, co-opting the email format.

MR. GREEN: That was rude of me to do to your security. It would be best if you got over your curiosity about me.

Trent is not one to give up on an enigma like Mr. Green all that easily. So, when he receives a reply, his own response is quick. With a sense of humor, he decides to take on a color himself.

MR. PURPLE: You're the one linking your name with Sterns all over the place. You managed to hack into my server as if there was no firewall and yet you left a trace? If you didn't want to be found, you could have fooled me.

MR. GREEN: You were not fooled. Please, let it be.

MR. PURPLE: Now you're just being confusing. If you did want to be found, why are you suddenly clamming up? Are you attempting to defect from Sterns?

MR. GREEN: I'm sorry. Something happened. The message was not meant for you.

A chime signals a few of the computer's processes alerting Trent; Mr. Green's chatroom is not entirely benign. He's attempting to access files related to "Project: Mr. Blue": gamma radiation notations, and an inventory of what was confiscated from the subject's research lab.

MR. GREEN: You said I helped you before. Help me now and forget it.

The chime draws Trent's attention. Ever since Russia, he has been keeping a closer watch on the security. While he may not be able to stop them, he can at least know when they've broken through and what they're looking for.

MR. PURPLE: Don't act all benevolent, Mr. Green. I see you. Also, does anyone else feel like we're in the Reservoir Dogs here? Wait a sec…

After a moment, the screen changes slightly and Mr. Purple disappears. Replacing him is:

MR. ORANGE: There we go. Oh, wait, he dies.

Mr. Orange disappears.

MR. PINK: The true professional. Anyway, yeah. It's unfair to ask me to do something and then just take what you want. That's called stealing.

MR. GREEN: A lecture from a SHIELD agent…
MR. GREEN: Interesting.
MR. GREEN: I'm sorry, but this is too important.

Security codes continue to work, following the invisible Green's progress until it's found a pattern, can work backwards, and he's not so invisible anymore. Trent's work proves fruitful: he's found an approximate location. It's just… there's something else running alongside it now, too, corrupting estimations.

MR. GREEN: You have another guest.
MR. GREEN: No… I do.
MR. GREEN: He can't have the file.

MR. PINK: I'm the last person to lecture. I'm just saying you can't have your cake and eat it, too.
MR. PINK: Though, that saying never made any sense to me. If I have a cake, wouldn't I want to eat it?

Trent keeps swiveling his chair between two different screens as he first picks up an approximate location on Mr. Green, but doesn't see anyone attempting to hack his system.

MR. PINK: To think, no honor among thieves.
MR. PINK: Yup, you're right it's on your side. Just a moment.

"Oh, and I know that signature. Tony, Tony, Tony. Of all the servers in all the networks, you come in to mine." With a grin, he comes up with a quick idea. As the file is housed on SHIELD's servers, Trent is able code a failsafe that looks like a regular code cypher and then just attaches it as a wrapper. It's something he's had in his back pocket for awhile and has just been itching to use it. He doesn't really have enough time to come up with a sufficient comeback, so he just makes sure the decoded file triggers all SHIELD channels to broadcast, 'Tony Stark is a cheating cheater.' "Eh, I've done better," he shrugs, but continues working. , Using the same chat log Mr. Green used to get into SHIELDS servers, he implants the cypher on Mr. Green's end.

MR. PINK: There you go. He can't open it now. I'm sure you can tune into a low level SHIELD channel if you can hack into my system. Tune in to find out who's trying to find you. Also, for the lols.
MR. PINK: Don't say I never did anything for you.
MR. PINK: I have a feeling you should have cast your net a little smaller.

Checking on what exactly Mr. Green is trying to take with him, he notices the contents of Sterns' lab. There's not much of note that would tempt a master hacker into SHIELD's files other than the marked hazardous samples of synthesized blood.

MR. PINK: So, you're interested in blood, huh? Are you a vampire?

There's a undefined pause, where even the hacking halts in place.

MR. GREEN: I've known others with your level of curiosity.
MR. GREEN: It didn't end well for them.

MR. PINK: I'm not a cat, Mr. Green.
MR. PINK: You obviously need some help if you thought by linking your name with Sterns you were only going to get the person you were after.
MR. PINK: Also, a thank you for the help wouldn't kill you, would it?

MR. GREEN: Not me, no.
MR. GREEN: If you wanted to help, you'd get rid of that file and everything associated with it.
MR. GREEN: Thank you.

The chat screen dies in an understated *blip*.

When the chat screen dies, Trent throws up his hands, "Yeah, after I encoded it for you, you jackass!" Trent blows air through his nostrils and starts to rewrite a few macros and codes through the process he had before. This is not exactly what he wanted out of this conversation, but he knows what and who he is dealing with now. "Christ, Banner, I was just trying to help." But, perhaps some people are beyond help.

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