| “ | [We are s]pies. Creatures who live by lying.
— Dorothy MacBean
|
” |
Team White Pigeon, also known as Principal Team, is a team of spies for the Commonwealth of Albion. The Kingdom of Albion, a major colonial superpower thanks to their mastery of Cavorite, was divided into the Kingdom of Albion and the Commonwealth of Albion after a civil war. Spies from the Commonwealth are tasked with killing Princess Charlotte and replacing her with a body double.
Instead, Charlotte convinces her prospective replacement, Ange le Carre, to assist her, convincing their handlers – the Commonwealth’s greatest spymasters – to aid her as well, supporting her plot to place herself first in line for the throne. The pair are assigned Dorothy as a handler, and recruit both the Japanese exchange ninja Chise and Charlotte’s maid, Beatrice, into their schemes, weakening the Kingdom covertly as they maneuver Charlotte into place.
Hidden from everyone else, however, is that "Princess Charlotte" is a body double, a pickpocket originally named Ange who was friends with Charlotte. The real Princess Charlotte is Ange le Carre herself, seeking to reunite with her lost "best friend" and whisk her off to a house in Casablanca, built just for the two of them.
Battle vs. Wakanda (MCU) (by Leolab)[]
Ch. 1: Prep[]
“Hello, Uncle Normandy,” Charlotte says, giving a curtsy to the elderly man in an impeccable black suit.
“Good day, Charlotte,” the Duke of Normandy says, his piercing blue eyes staring through his glasses, “This is about your scheduled visit to Wakanda.”
“Is it being cancelled?” the girl asks, “The king we were to congratulate was deposed, correct?”
“No, Wakanda and its Vibranium is far too useful. I have made personnel changes, however,” the duke says, gesturing to the aide behind him, who steps forward and gives a stiff bow.
“I am Giselle,” she says, “I came to the Kingdom from a colony close to Wakanda, so I know a bit about its history and can speak Xhosa.”
“Hello, Giselle,” Charlotte says, curtsying, “I have seen you with Uncle before, but it’s nice to meet you properly.” The princess’ smile holds no trace of her unease, for she has also seen the woman on a foggy night trying to kill her friends. “I take it you are also to act as a bodyguard?”
“Yes, she is,” the duke says, “Though if you know that much I may need to hunt for a leak.”
“No need for that,” Charlotte says with a giggle, “Chise, my friend in the Japanese delegation, has told me that she’d like to spar with the Duke of Normandy’s aide. If that is all, Uncle…”
“Almost. Do you still wish to take those friends of yours? Wakanda is volatile right now, and I cannot guarantee their safety.”
“I’ve told them, but they still want to come. They wish to learn of the nations outside the Kingdom.”
“Very well. You are dismissed, Charlotte.”
The princess says her goodbyes and walks out, closing the door softly. Giselle relaxes slightly, turning around.
“You have a question?” the Duke of Normandy asks.
“Are you certain about sending her?”
“Yes,” the Kingdom’s spymaster replies, “William has his own duties here, Mary is not suited for these kinds of stressful functions, and Richard is making a name for himself in the New World. We have little choice. That is why I’m sending you.”
“Sir?” his top agent asks.
“I do not believe Charlotte to be as guileless as she acts, nor do I think her friends are as simple as they appear. Watch them carefully, and report all of their actions to me,” the Duke of Normandy says, peering out the window as Charlotte gets into her car, surrounded by the friends in question.
Beatrice holds the door open as Charlotte climbs into the tricked-out convertible while Dorothy hops in front, starting the ignition. The older girl fives a flirtatious wave to the young, blushing lad manning the palace gates as she drives them through and onto the streets moving into London proper.
“So?” Ange asks, sitting beside Dorothy in the front, “What did he say?”
“Giselle is coming with us.”
“Wait, isn’t that really bad?” Beatrice asks, panicking, “She’s like the Kingdom’s Ange, right?”
“Indeed, she is strong,” Chise says, sitting on the other side of Charlotte, “I would like to spar with her at least once.”
“Well, I told her as much,” Charlotte says, laughing.
“Oi, oi, don’t do that,” Dorothy says, “She saw you fight during the whole terrorist thing. She’ll get suspicious of you. Anyway, this complicates things. I’ll need to report this to Control.”
“Yes. We’ll need an alternate extraction route for the Vibranium.”
The girls continue to chat animatedly, turning from their mission to more mundane topics as the road grows more crowded.
Meanwhile, a long way away from London, Erik “Killmonger” Stevens looks out from his throne room over a sprawling city of shining metal, polished rock, and a patchwork of thatch here and there. He hears footsteps behind him, and he turns to see Okoye and W’Kabi walking towards him.
“King N’Jadaka,” W’Kabi says in Xhosa, “The Kingdom of Albion has said they will still send their delegation, though to greet you instead of T’Challa. The Commonwealth of Albion has said their diplomats are currently needed elsewhere.”
“Can’t we just blow these royal assholes off? They’ve put their little ‘colonies’ through most of Africa already.”
“That would not be wise,” Okoye says, “Not only have we had a long, if tense, alliance, but if any nation can match Wakanda, it is Albion. Were their country not split and weakened by civil war, your plan would be impossible.”
“I agree. Both the Kingdom and the Commonwealth have also proven difficult for our War Dogs to infiltrate. This could be a good chance to learn a little about them.”
“And you two never agree about politics. Fine, we’ll throw their fancy bender. But make sure no one finds out about our plans,” Killmonger says, walking to his throne, “And beef up the guard in the Great Mound.”
“You really think some silly Europeans can get through our guards?” Okoye scoffs as she follows and sits at her own seat, while W’Kabi does the same.
“If we can’t get our War Dogs into either country, they have a formidable spy network,” Killmonger explains, “Besides, what we know of their Cavorite – that it can manipulate gravity – means they can probably use it to transport Vibranium with ease. They could have spies in with the guests. I want this place rat trapped.”
“In that case, maybe we should bait them,” W’Kabi muses, “If they get caught trying to steal the Vibranium, we can kick them out.”
“And make the party end faster. Good, I like that. Do it.”
The three continue to strategize as the rest of the council starts to file in, all the tribes needing to organize themselves for the gala.
Back in London, Charlotte and Ange relax in the former’s dorm room, sipping tea in their nightwear. Between them were sheafs of paper, scribbled with notes and some with images attached, giving information about the new Wakandan ruler and the other leaders of the country.
“Got everything, Princess?” Ange asks.
“I do, Charlotte. Your notes are easy to understand,” the Princess says.
“You’re the only one who says that.”
“Maybe because I understand you?”
“Oh stop that,” Ange says, blushing and looking far less displeased than her words would imply.
“I will need to be careful with this ‘Killmonger’ gentleman. I doubt his plans are entirely peaceful.”
“Really?” Ange asks, “It seems like he got what he wanted to me.”
“He reminds me a bit of little Ange the pickpocket,” the Princess says with a sad smile, “Had she not met Charlotte, she might have grown up wanting to lash out at the world. I think his ascendance in Wakanda is only the star—”
She cuts of as Ange rounds the table and gives her a hug, a rare display of affection.
“In that case, Princess, I’ll talk to Dorothy. One of us can guard you, and…”
“No, Charlotte. The theft is your mission. The gala and politics is my battleground. Leave it to me.”
“You really do love to watch me squirm, don’t you?” Ange grumbles, sitting back down as Charlotte giggles. The two girls continue to talk over their tea, reminiscing about old times.
Ch. 2: Party[]
The doors to the ballroom open, and a stream of Albion dignitaries make their way in, Princess Charlotte at their head. They spread out around the room, looking with curiosity at the food, as Charlotte and her entourage make their way to the back, where Killmonger stands, flanked by W’Kabi and Okoye. Charlotte gives a prim curtsy as she arrives in front of him.
“I am Charlotte, fourth in line to the throne of Albion. I am here to give his majesty N’Jadaka greetings from my grandmother.”
“I am King N’Jadaka, son of N’Jobu,” Killmonger says in Xhosa, “I accept and return the greetings of the colonizer queen.”
“King N’Jadaka says he accepts and returns the greeting,” Giselle says.
“I will convey that to Grandmother,” Charlotte says, “I’ve also brought along some schoolmates who wish to learn about Wakanda. I hope you can overlook their ignorance in cultural matters.”
“Sure, we can overlook a faux pas or two,” Killmonger says, waiting for Giselle to finish translating before continuing in English, “Now let’s get this party started.”
Musicians blast out traditional Wakandan music, leaving most of the Albion dignitaries nonplussed. Killmonger laughs heartily, noting the amusement creeping into Charlotte’s practiced smile. He watches the procession head down to the main floor, and sits back on his throne.
“The Princess is more than she seems,” he mutters in Xhosa.
“You want us to keep an eye on her?” W’kabi whispers in the same language.
“Yes, though I’ll want to talk to her later.”
“Why?”
“You see how she slipped that device into the black woman’s coat? She could pick pockets in Eastmont. Might be the in for our War Dogs.”
“You think a White princess will help you?”
“It’s worth a shot. I’ll use my enemies, if I need to.”
While they had their whispered conversation, the delegation from Albion spreads out around the floor. Some dance uncomfortably, while others look suspiciously at the food. Giselle tries to keep her eyes on everyone, but is ultimately pulled thin by the attentions of a couple Wakandan would-be suitors.
Ange exchanges glances with Charlotte, and the infiltration team makes their way out of the hall unnoticed. Charlotte, meanwhile, makes her way to the band, and requests a song. As the current one winds down, she weaves along the outside of the floor, slowly but surely closing in on the raised dais where Killmonger sits. She reaches him as the song, a traditional Albion waltz, starts.
“May I ask his majesty for a dance?”
“I’m pretty bad at the ballroom stuff.”
“I can lead.”
N’Jadaka and W’Kabi exchange wary glances, before the king rises, taking Charlotte’s hand.
“If you insist,” he says, and she leads him out on the floor. The two dance, surrounded by other members of the Albion delegation and no small number of Wakandans humoring their guests. Charlotte, true to her word, leads Killmonger through the steps masterfully.
“Just so you know,” he says, “I generally prefer my women more adult. And darker.”
“Not to worry, Mr. Stevens,” Charlotte says, smiling, “I don’t swing your way, anyway.”
“A lesbian princess? That’s hot,” he mutters, just loud enough for Charlotte to hear, “Think you can hook me up with that Giselle chick?”
“You have a taste for danger. She’s the personal aide of the Duke of Normandy.”
“Shame.”
“And that’s why she’s still single.”
“So if you’re not interested in me, why ask for a dance?”
“It’s the easiest way to talk in private. I want you to bet on me.”
“I’m not into gambling. Besides, you’re fourth in line to the throne.”
“I will become Queen,” Charlotte says, eyes hardening with determination, “And I will break down the walls separating people. A truly equal society, for everyone. Class and race alike.”
“Equals ruled by a queen?”
“I will step down, of course. Assuming I don’t get the guillotine.”
The song ends, and they separate as the music shifts back to the more energetic Wakandan fare.
“Well, Princess. Excuse me and allow me to think on this.”
“Of course, King N’Jadaka.”
As Charlotte makes her way back to Giselle, Killmonger heads to his throne, swiping a glass of liquor on the way. He sits sipping it, as W’Kabi returns to his side, separating himself from the dance he shared with Okoye.
“So?” W’Kabi asks.
“She’s clever,” Killmonger says, sipping his drink, “I can tell exactly what strings she was tugging to try and get me to do what she wanted, and I’m still considering doing it.”
“She’s dangerous.”
“And committed to her ideals. Let’s see how the rest of the night goes,” Killmonger says, leaning forward and observing the crowd.
Ch. 3: Infiltration[]
Four girls slip through the hallways, moving from shadow to shadow in the nearly empty compound. Their party dresses lie abandoned in an empty room, the group now more sensibly dressed for spy activities. They stop as Ange holds a mirror around the corner, spotting a Wakandan in a lab coat – a curiously European affectation for an isolationist African nation – approaching a door with a security camera above it.
He says his name, and the door beeps and opens. Beatrice fiddles with her voicebox, while Dorothy hands a small black ball to Chise. The ninja leans out and flicks it at the camera, breaking the lens and coating the inside in the ink that was supposed to cover the glass. Chise withers under Dorothy’s glare as Beatrice pops out and repeats the man’s name. The girls run through the opening door, and halt as they see a phalanx of Dora Milaje pointing Vibranium spears on the other end of the walkway. Ange looks to the side, noticing a network of walkways through the same chasm, and tugs on Dorothy’s sleeve.
Ange grabs Chise’s hand and sprints to the edge as Dorothy picks Beatrice up and does the same. They leap off as Ange activates her C-Ball, Dorothy grabbing her leg, to haul themselves across the chasm and up to another walkway, this one abandoned. They look across to see a barrage of sonic blasts shatter the doorway they had come through, and Dorothy sighs while Beatrice gapes.
“I told L this was a bad idea.”
“Both 7 and Colonel said this came from too high up to refuse, though,” Ange replies.
“And they were expecting us, too,” Beatrice says, “Why else would that guy be wearing a lab coat?”
“Oh, I thought that was just a scientist thing,” Chise says, “In Japan they have long coats, too.”
“And there’s no way we can win against that! Did you see how they destroyed the door? Nothing like that was in what Control gave us!” Beatrice continues.
“Hmm… yeah,” Chise says, “Being realistic, I’m not sure we can fight a prepared enemy with that kind of firepower.
“Well, we tried,” Dorothy says, looking at Ange, “Should get back to the party.”
“Right. If they welcomed us with this much force, Princess might be in danger, too.”
Ange frowns, trying to place where they are in the schematics she had memorized as Dorothy takes a drink from a flask she pulls out of her bosom. She points at a door, and the girls run through it into an enclosed hallway, lined with Vibranium pillars. They once again stop short as a squad of four Dora Milaje round the other end, and dive behind the pillars as a barrage of sonic blasts slam into the ground.
Ange fires a couple shots, which plink harmlessly off of the Vibranium weave armor worn by their opponents. She ducks back behind the pillar, which is slowly being worn away by the sonic blasts. Beatrice takes note of this, and pulls down her scarf.
“I’m going to try something. If I’m right, it should weaken their armor,” she says, and starts fiddling with her voicebox.
“Will you need to peek out?” Dorothy asks, and Beatrice nods.
“Okay. Dorothy, cover her. Chise and I will take care of the combat,” Ange says.
Beatrice finishes and leans out, protected by a couple shots from Dorothy. She opens her mouth, and the Dora Milaje stop for a second as their armor and spears start to vibrate slightly, and one grimaces as a stray shot from Dorothy hits her in the stomach, drawing blood. Chise and Ange take advantage of the moment, sprinting out of cover.
A pair of Dora fall, spears cut and throats sliced, while two more collapse, shot from the ceiling. Ange lands behind the remaining fighter, the green glow fading as she deactivates the Cavorite, and shoots her in the back of the head. Beatrice coughs as Dorothy places a hand in front of the shorter girl’s eyes, shielding her from the carnage. She fiddles with her voicebox again as Chise and Ange catch their breath.
“It looked like sonic stuff weakened Vibranium, so…” she starts, and squeals as Dorothy lifts her up, still covering her eyes.
“Good, but we need to run.”
“Not much. There’s a ventilation shaft around that corner that should take us right outside the room we stored our dresses in,” Ange says, “But it’s probably best if you keep hold of her.”
The girls run off, hastening to return to the party before they are missed.
Ch. 4: Confrontation[]
Charlotte looks to the side as the other members of Team White Pigeon slip into the venue, shaking their heads. She slides over to Giselle’s side, looking at the agitated state of the blue-clad Wakandans.
“I think they might try something,” she whispers, “They look on edge.”
Giselle nods, shooting a piercing glare at the Border Tribe members as she heads around to the disguised soldiers they had brough from Albion. This didn’t escape the notice of the Wakandans, who tensed further as Charlotte stood next to her friends.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Dorothy whispers.
“Forcing a confrontation.”
“What? But we…” Beatrice starts.
“Are about to be encircled,” Ange murmurs, “If she can force something to happen before that…”
As she speaks, a group of Dora Milaje and Border Tribe guards streams out from behind the throne, weapons drawn. The girls shrink back as the Kingdom’s soldiers draw their concealed weaponry, causing a standoff. Killmonger strides through the soldiers into a suddenly-clear path in the ballroom.
“Thieves!” he yells, pointing dramatically at the Kingdom’s delegation. Charlotte and Ange sigh, and the Princess steps forth, waving Giselle back as she walks towards him.
“And what do you contend we’ve stolen?”
“Our alarms in the Great Mound were set off. Some of you attempted to steal Vibranium,” Killmonger says, drawing a stately laugh from Charlotte.
“My, how brazen. To steal when they would be the only possible suspects, you truly think low of us.”
“Of course the colonizer whore denies it,” W’Kabi shouts in Xhosa, “We should kill them all here for their transgressions.”
“That would be a bad idea,” Charlotte says in slightly stilted Xhosa, “Giving Albion reason to invade would be suicide.”
“Would it?” Killmonger asks in Xhosa, stepping forward and lowering his voice. Charlotte steps forward as well, and the conversation continues between the two of them, “We know the Kingdom is falling behind the Commonwealth rather rapidly in technology.”
“I told you my ambitions, Killmonger. Do you really think I only have backers on one side of the wall? The Kingdom’s manpower united with the Commonwealth’s technology doesn’t seem like something you can face."
“As always, your people only know how to threaten.”
“Was it not one of yours that suggesting killing us?”
“Well, if you weren’t strong enough to call off the theft – and I know someone did it – you’re not enough to bet on.”
“That is a shame. I take it you’ll let us leave without a fight?”
Killmonger nods, and the two step back, returning to the head of their respective hosts. The tension in the air increases as Killmonger throws his shoulders back and opens his mouth to speak.
“Y’all gonna leave,” he says in English, pointing at the opposing delegation, “And no one from Albion will be welcome in Wakanda so long as I am its king.”
“Very well, King N’Jobu,” Charlotte replies in English, “It’s regrettable that you would break our long history, but your intentions were clear from the start tonight. The Kingdom of Albion wishes you the best of luck maintaining your usurpation.”
She gives a stiff, mocking curtsy before turning on her heel, striding through her guards. The Wakandans lower their weapons, and the gala ends with the Albion delegation heading to their airship in a phalanx, not trusting the Wakandan soldiers to not try and spring a surprise attack.
Expert’s Opinion[]
While White Pigeon was skilled at infiltration and Charlotte skilled at manipulation, Wakanda simply had its guard up too high for either to make any headway. Being the only white girls in an African country made infiltration significantly more difficult than Team White Pigeon is used to, and Killmonger's innate paranoia and egotism made convincing him of anything nearly impossible.