With the amount of 0-8-4s that were coming into SHIELD, and with how often her team was being sent out to investigate, it was no wonder that after nearly six months of non-stop work, Marti began to show signs of extreme physical and mental exhaustion. Had she not been so successful at hiding the everyday struggle, her secret would have been discovered far sooner. As it was, it was a surprise when one day in the training room, she had collapsed after running into a punching bag.
A quick inspection by a medic who had arrived first when called for had seen enough to give a diagnosis. If she kept running herself at this rate, the likelihood she would be able-bodied for active duty was slim to none.
Her superiors wouldn't allow her to continue to work, not in this condition. While still a rookie, she was an asset to her team. The news didn't sit well with the agent, who had grumbled about it for days after being put on paid leave until she passed a physical that met their expectations. But the dark circles and the near translucent quality to her skin even had her concerned. Perhaps a vacation wouldn't be the most horrible thing that could have happened to her.
Which was how she had ended up in Europe, at the Jackson casino, of all places. Gambling had never been something she was fond of. But after gambling with her well-being, taking a risk with a bit of money sounded like child's play. Marti had just lost a good chunk of change at one of the blackjack tables, though the dry martini she was having took the sting off the loss.
The night was still young, however, and she had plenty of confidence that it was going to be an eventful one.
