Session 03 (Agent Jason)

Jason leaned back into the passenger seat. He watched the snow falling outside the window while Jasper drove the car.
He pulled the hood of his fleece jumper up, shivering for a moment, although he wasn't sure it was the temperature. He glanced out of the corner of his eyes, observing Jasper as he was driving. The man didn't seem too shaken. Or he was good at hiding it.
Jason lit a cigarette and looked in the rear view mirror at Jude and Jagger. The medic was checking Jude's bandage, where a few small bloodstains were appearing, before zipping his jacket up again.

"All good, Jagger?"

The Englishman nodded. Jason took a big drag from his cigarette and stared at the gloved hand holding it. He went over a number of things in his head. Some of them clicked into place, but there were a few nagging details he didn't like. Not at all.
He watched the little hula dancer shake back and forth on the dashboard and started talking. As much to himself as to the others.

"This is why we have a rule in place not to use medieval metaphysics and hypergeometry. Or whatever they want to call it in newfangled pseudo-scientific terms... I just call it magic. This is also the reason why you report any works that may contain these... spells... or...  rituals. You don't dabble in it. Period. That way you can never be tempted to try it out. I'm sure Clyde meant no harm. The guy was heartbroken when his wife passed away. He probably thought it would all be OK. None would ever find out. I guess the spell didn't work the way he expected it to be. Or there were side effects. Who knows. There must have been a reason he locked her up in there."

Jason looked to the right, out of the window.

"He should have called it in. Faced the music. Management doesn't look kindly upon these practices. But at least he would have eliminated the threat he had created."

Jason chuckled  He could imagine how Norman would have reacted to this... He could just have explained it a bit better in the note. 'Hi guys. thanks for coming to wipe my arse. Much appreciated. Oh by the way, I raised my late wife from the dead. Didn't really work out the way I thought it would. Please be careful when you torch the evil bitch and don't open the hatch unless you're ready for her. Kind regards, Clyde' 

He flicked the cigarette out of the window and lit a fresh one. He looked in the mirror again at Jude. Looked like the painkillers Jagger had given him had kicked in. The guy has done well. Jason didn't think he would have been able to go toe to toe with that thing as long as Jude had. That's twice the guy got wounded on an Op. Not a good way to settle in.

Jagger had pulled his weight properly as well. When Jason ran back to the car to get the knife, he thought Jude was a goner. He had little hope for Jagger to do something, seeing the way he was since he ate those won tons earlier, but amazingly, he had been able to get Jagger to realize the seriousness of the situation and the medic had apparently been able to stop the bleeding and patch Jude up in record time.

He hoped the guys would get a bit of downtime before the next Night at the Opera. Absorb some of this shit. When they had their talk over lunch it was clear their expectations and the reality of Delta Green were not one and the same. Yeah... been there, done that, bought a few T-shirts.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, taking a few deep breaths. When he looked back again, Jagger and Jude were asleep.

He looked over at Jasper.

"If you're worried about what happened back there, don't be. This kind of stuff should unsettle you. You lost the rifle, but you stood your ground. In the end we took that thing out, That's all that matters."

Jason closed his eyes and slowly drifted away.

He woke up, some time later, when he felt the rhythm of the car change. He looked out, noticing they were off the main road and closer to the green box. He rubbed his eyes as Jasper maneuvered the car to the rear of the green box. The guys in the back were awake as well.

As Jasper turned the engine off, Jason saw the cut lock laying on the ground, at the backdoor.

"Balaclavas on and let's be quiet. we're not taking any risks..."

Session 03 (Agent Jude)

Operation Lazarus

The week leading up to Christmas was chaos, I spent most of my time at my desk, it had been a month since the events of the Russian Orthodox engagement, a month of silence and boredom.

I left the office Christmas Eve, spent the evening with Charlie, she could tell something was off, I was drinking more than usual, even for Christmas.  The red wine vanished quickly, so did the evening, my memory of it, sketchy at best, my strongest memory, waking up in her bed.

Christmas was lonely, I went to my cabin, two Shipping Containers I had turned into a small homestead, all my equipment was in order, none more attractive than the three bottles of Wild Turkey waiting on the shelves.  Revisiting my private survival stash always seemed to calm me down, field stripping and cleaning weapons and gear always seemed to take my mind off things.  Although tedious, it prepared me for the evening at the local fun house.  Christmas Strippers, always fun.

Short notice again, another communication from the Group. I was to make my way to Albany in New York State, more trouble brewing. I was keen to have my questions answered; was this going to do that for me?  Either way, I was in need of the action.

The weather here is shit...

The flight to Albany was fine, again, the weather here is shit, cold and bitter. I had adjusted my “Go Bag” to include warmer attire, tactical gloves and slouchy beanie now permanently residing within.  I landed without complication and made my way to the agreed meeting site, the Rental car booths. Pulling up short, I spotted Jasper moving in the same direction. We were both early and decided to sit at a nearby café for a coffee, within a few moments we were joined by Jagger, the three of us shaking hands. To my surprise, Jagger’s hands were clear of blisters and boils, a vast improvement, instead he now seemed to be fighting off a cold.

Jason also joined us, all gripping our coffee in the cold, we made our way to Jason’s familiar car, still as dismal as ever, only it was my turn to sit up front with him.  The words exchanged in the car were few, however it was clear we all had questions that had been unanswered after the previous operation.

Our first port of call, the USPS at Latham, a small suburb on the outskirts of Albany. We needed to pick up a package, Jason wanted someone with break and enter skills, jumping at the chance to do anything, I volunteered.  Jasper and Jagger stayed in the car, Jason and I hit the post office, light traffic as most people were in and out quickly after doing their late Christmas deliveries and pickups.  Jason pointed to the PO Box, 2432, standing in front of the camera, Jason motioned for me to open it. I jammed my boot knife into the seam near the lock, to my surprise, it flung open easily, removing the contents, a large folder type parcel. I handed it to Jason before we returned to the car.  If it was anything like the last folder, I didn’t want anything to do with it.

The drive was slow and cold, minimal talking in this beat up car with bad heating. Jasper tried to lighten the mood, but Jagger’s constant groaning made it hard not to feel slightly uncomfortable.

The Golden House Chinese restaurant

We stopped at ‘The Golden House’ Chinese restaurant, we were all in need of a feed as we landed at noon and 1pm was closing in on this ice box of a state.  As we ordered, Jason took the opportunity to go over everything from the last op.  

He informed us that all communications, even the ones between ourselves were all monitored, eyes of A-Cell or management were always present, nothing was secret unless spoken directly, face to face.  Jason also expressed his sympathies, as our previous operation was deemed not for suitable for Friendlies, a fully hardened Cell should have been deployed, as a result, our success was unexpected.  As this was an operation instigated by Clove, our agency prospects within the Group were not complete but certainly coming, all due to our success. We were on the radar of the Group previously, now we were under serious consideration.

As a result of the communications post operation, Jagger had requested combat training, something the Group did not provide, or any training for that matter. I again volunteered, opting to take him through some of the ropes. He had claimed to have been in Desert Storm, hopefully he was just rusty and not lying about that.

Jason informed us he had received a call from Alfonse, an A-Cell alias, the agent in charge of A-Cell from the sounds of it.  This was the first time Jason had been contacted by A-Cell directly, congratulating us on a successful mission and informing us that measures have been taken that a repeat situation would not occur.  

Jason's last point was to do with personal property. I knew what he was talking about. He wanted me to relinquish my vest, the vest that had saved my life at the cabin. I was reluctant, but I understood, it did after all have my name in it somewhere.

Jagger seemed to be the only one eating with any sort of enthusiasm as Jason filled us in on our next op.  A former agent, a Clyde Baughman, had passed away four days ago. It was our task to clean up, his apartment was to be emptied of all Group documents or evidence, a simple fire sale job, everything must go. Baughman was active in the 60s and 70s. recently retires but working casually as a friendly, IRS background so paperwork was key, lots of paperwork.  He was located in Troy, just outside Albany, this should be a quick job.

Jagger excused himself from the table as Jason turned his attention to the post pack we had pulled from the post office.  Emptying it on the table, there were three Cell phones, each labelled with a name, Jagger, Jasper and Jude, these were our agency phones, only to contact each other and A-Cell in dire need.  Fake ID’s, mine was George Ryan, Vancouver resident.

There was a file with a key attached. The file was on Clyde Baughman and most likely his apartment key. Another key, a padlock key, also fell out of the package, a strange key chain, a green square clanging on the table.  A stack of cash too, $500 each when we counted it, enough to get us going on the fly with anything we might need.

We concluded the lunch meeting to find Jagger still in the washroom, again volunteering for punishment, I found him bent over, white as a sheet, all his lunch now in the toilet bowl.  Picking him up, he was a mess, poor bastard was really ill, obviously as unexpected to him as the rest of us.

Throwing him in the back of the car, he assured us he would be alright, reluctantly Jason agreed to keep him with us, Jagger opening his medical bag and downing all manner of pills.  Who knows, it might all be over in an hour, at least we hope.

We were to drive to the Albany Green Box, prep for the upcoming op, even though supposedly a cake walk, it never hurt to be prepared.  Jason also informed us that he had retained possession of a few things from the last mission, mainly hardware, the shotguns and pistols were in the trunk.  The Green box itself, another vacant building in an industrial area, an old mechanic workshop, long abandoned.  Using the padlock key, the green square, or box, a dead giveaway.

SKS 7.62x39

Entering, it was a mechanics workshop, tools on shelves, a beat up stripped car, an empty truck also locked, although a key hidden in the wheel well.  Empty, nothing here, it was Jasper who first saw it, a single floor to ceiling shelving unit, this was the jackpot.  Again, books, Jason’s specialty, strangely, there were airport security uniforms, something must have gone down there previously, drugs, one labelled sodium pentathol, truth serum, I couldn’t resist, pocketing it, a trauma kit and of course, firearms.  A Smith and Wesson 586, perfect for Jagger in my opinion, he can finally put his scalpel away.  I grabbed it to give to him since he was still in the car, after all, my Glock was still in Jason’s trunk, an SKS rifle also rested on a shelf, without hesitation, Jasper grabbed it and the crowbar sitting next to it, he was after the axe man.  What was odd, an old surplus Russian grenade, Jasper and I looked at each other, both agreeing to leave it well alone.

Smith & Wesson 586

I ditched my personal belongings again, bagging them and hiding them in the cistern of the toilet along with those belonging to Jagger, we were on the road again, on our way to the apartment of Clyde Baughman.

It was about 3pm when we arrived, the only thing out of the ordinary was Jagger, still white as a ghost, dry heaving every five minutes. Poor bastard is all I could think.  Jasper, Jason and I all scouted the building, an old 60s apartment complex, four storeys high, fire escapes and large glass front and back doors, this was a white-collar neighborhood, nothing was to say otherwise, everything seemed normal, it was Christmas after all.

Night would come around 5pm, we decided to find a rally point in case of emergency, a block away, a large park, good enough for a simple clean-up operation.

As darkness fell, again Jagger remained in the car, semi passed out as he had been popping pills all day.  I took the back entrance of the building, Jasper and Jason the front, we met in the foyer, apartment 5, first floor.  We made our way up as casually as we could, Jason opening the door to the apartment with the key from the file.

Baughman's Apartment

We began our search, closing the curtains and using our flash lights, we moved room to room, Jasper taking the lead.  The apartment was scare, the lounge room contained no more than a couch, TV and table, the kitchen again basic.  Bathroom barely used, Bedroom again blank.  The spare room however, stacks upon stacks of paperwork, 4-foot-high piles of folders, loose notes and archive boxes.

Once satisfied the apartment was clear, we all took a room, in the lounge room, I pulled everything apart, the only thing of significance, a Colt Detective Special in between the cushions of the lounge, the serial number filed off, thank you very much Clyde.

It was Jason’s turn to shine.  After reviewing the stack of paperwork in front of us, he seemed to have some idea of what he was looking at, semi ordered and organised bundles of IRS paperwork, it was going to take a while, at least 3-4 hours.  I decided to go back downstairs and tell Jagger that we were going to be here a while, after trying to call his phone a few times with no response, I was off.
  
I found him asleep across the back of the car, he was dead to the world, I scribbled a not for him and threw it in, he would get the message.  On my return into the building, I stopped off at the mailbox of Clyde Baughman, as I did, an elderly woman with her dog came down the stairs.  She announced herself as Clyde’s neighbour, I had no choice but to remember the file of Mr Baughman, he had a son Michael, I took his identity.  This woman was sympathetic as to the passing of Baughman, explaining that it was so sad.  Once she had exited the building, I called up to Jason to confirm the encounter, watching her walk her dog in the freezing cold, it was only that the dog needed to relieve itself that she had left the apartment.

Colt Detective Special 38

Satisfied everything was clear, I returned to the room with the scraps of mail, it had become evident to Jason and Jasper that Clyde owned a Cabin near Tupper Lake, a good 3 and a half hours away, a key to the cabin residing on the hanger near the front door, along with paperwork amongst the rest.  Jason helped himself, taking the Cabin key and what looked like an extra pair of padlock keys labelled cabin also.

We began our long sorting process, 9pm rolled around before we could be certain there was nothing here relevant to the Group.  The cabin was to be the next stop.  Still unconvinced as to the motivations of Mrs Janowitz, Clyde’s neighbor, I decided to knock on her door for a quick chat before leaving.  Jason and Jasper returned to the car as I sat down for a cup of tea in number 6.  Within 5 minutes it was clear there was nothing more sinister at work here, just a concerned neighbor.

Satisfied I joined the others in the car, Jagger clearly had been told off for falling asleep by Jason, his colour slightly returning, but he was still showing signs of sickness.

The drive was going to be long and cold, Jason decided to go over with us what he had found out from the previous operation, the Russian Iconography, the religious cult, something about an ancient Roman Deity, supposedly wiped out under Stalin, I guess he missed a few.  Catching up on some sleep, we arrived at Piercefield just outside Tupper Lake, Jasper, in possession of the best geographical skills identified the location of the cabin, a private road out of town surrounded by woods, the cabin was down there somewhere.  The woods, just what we needed, another trap infested landscape with mangy dogs and god knows what.

As there was no cause for alarm, we decided to drive up the private road, a few miles in, a sharp bend, the cabin lay in front of us.  Turning the lights off, again Jagger stayed in the car, Jasper Jason and I moving to arm ourselves.  Jasper grabbed the SKS rifle he had taken from the green box, he was also brandishing a revolver, another Smith and Wesson, looked to be a 4’’ 586, I inquired and he told me he picked it up at a gun show; he wanted his own sidearm.  I understood that better than most. Jason took the Ithica shotgun full of buckshot, leaving me the Remington loaded with slugs. I felt pretty good, my Glock holstered under my arm, my Colt in the back of my belt and carrying a shotgun, my lack of vest apparent, however I still felt better equipped than last time.

Looking over the cabin, to the side, a small outhouse stood some 10 yards from the house, another 10 yards away a shed stood against the tree line, all we needed now where some crazy Russians and we would all be having flashbacks.

As there was not a large amount of ground between buildings, Jasper was to go to the shed, myself, the outhouse and Jason would remain on the porch of the Cabin, a quick search revealed nothing more than a toilet in the small shack, I joined Jasper who had pried the lock off the shed door, a few tools littered the ground, on one wall, 20 or so gasoline cans, all full to the brim. Clyde must have been ready to burn down the town.

Baughman's Cabin

All quiet we re-joined Jason at the Cabin, it was dark, quiet and off putting.  Looking around the Cabin it was Jason who suggested a window entry, if this was the cabin of an agent, it was most likely booby trapped, the door was never going to be a good idea.  Jasper took the lead, his previous window breaking prowess working in his favour with the crowbar, I boosted him in.  A few moments later he suggested we all enter through the window, something was just not right here.  I boosted Jason up who in turn gave me a hand.  The window was at waist height once inside, the thick rock base of the cabin making it 6 feet off the ground from the exterior.

Another sparsely furnished dwelling, Jason refused to turn the lights on, seeing no signs of traps, we agreed the electrical works were the next best way to burn the place down to an unknowing trespasser.  We began our search, again turning up little more than the basics for rustic living, all but Jason, pulling a large footlocker from under the bed.

As Jason pulled the footlocker out, Jasper called out that the plumbing in the bathroom was out, no septic activity, it seemed strange that there was an outhouse and an interior toilet, the kitchen had running water, also separate as the water ran, an electrical pump sounded, something was not right here.

Jason opened the footlocker to reveal a note perched atop of the items within. I read it aloud, its instructions simple, pour all the gasoline in the shed into the septic tank and burn it, don't tell his family. This was his final unfinished Opera.  Under the note, more books on strange occult nonsense, a large, old, bone handled knife, covered in engravings, a leather pouch of feathers, fingernails and teeth, and assorted other items relating to what looked like American Indian ceremony. A selection of reel to reel tapes also resided in the locker, accompanied by a large folder branded FBI; interesting considering Clyde worked for the IRS.  What took my eye was a small glass orb, magnetised to the metal interior of the locker, glass wasn’t magnetic. Strange.

We all looked at each other and agreed the locker was to go in the car's trunk, we needed to find the septic tank Clyde had mentioned in the letter.

Jason and Jasper hauled the locker into the trunk as I looked around the grounds.  About 10 feet behind the house, the ground sunk into a four-meter-wide pit, a manhole of steel in the middle, padlocked and silent.  Before we went near it, Jason gave us the lead, we began hauling every gas can towards the pit, no time for games, just pour and burn, that was the plan.
  

Once all of the cans were ready, Jason, Jasper and approached the manhole, Jason fiddled with the keys he had taken labelled Cabin until the lock popped open.  Cracking the hinged steel cover, sounds of water, metal and sloshing filled the air, to our shock, a woman’s voice sounded from within, asking for Clyde.

Jasper looked the most shocked, his initial reaction was to investigate, I can’t say I blame him, this was all wrong, Jason cleared the air, the file on Clyde stated his wife died 15 years ago, this woman, claiming to be her was not real.  Not wanting to open the cover, I returned to the shed to find a large auto funnel, returning to the pit, I jammed it into the broken seal of the tank.  Jason placed his foot on top of the cover, his shotgun pointed at it, Jasper took a slightly wider birth, a few feet back, his SKS rifle aimed at the small opening.

There we were, Jason to my left, Jasper to my right, and me, pouring gasoline into the septic tank through a funnel.  As the first can ran dry, more calls from within begging us to stop, the second and third cans yielded the same result, only the voice now sounded more annoyed than desperate.

I picked up the fourth can and got back on my haunches to begin pouring, that’s when it all went south.  A loud clang as I was flung back to the ground, Jason was also knocked back off the lid of the tank and the manhole hurled open, yet able to keep his feet.  Two waterlogged and grotesque hands gripped the edge of the manhole, followed by the face of an old woman, skin drooping in places, in others bones and teeth protruding.  Jasper let his SKS loose, firing off shots as the woman launched into the air, the sound of bullets bouncing all around the interior steel of the septic tank echoing out. 

Marlene Baughman

The woman landed, one foot on either side of me, her hands bearing down on my chest and face, her fingernails black and sharp, like the claws of a grizzly under threat, her eyes dark and full of hate.  I was defenseless, lying on my back, my pistols holstered, my shotgun a foot away from me. She began clawing violently.  Negating her blows and returning some of my own, to little effect, Jason let fly with his shotgun, a piece of buckshot blowing the matted hair of the woman across her shoulders as if so close the air of the shot had acted like a strong wind.

Distracting her momentarily, I seized my chance and let go with a left handed hook, pounding her in the jaw. I think my fist was more affected than her however, sending her back a moment, I scuttled out from under her as fast as I could.  Looking at the others, Jason had taken off back towards the car. I didn’t know if he had a plan or if he was petrified, either way he couldn’t help me now.

Jasper stepped in and swung hard with the butt of his rifle, as if knowing the attack was coming, the woman swiped at him, thankfully missing him but collecting his rifle, sending it sliding across the ground and falling directly into the septic tank. Jasper recoiled slightly, the woman returning her attention to me and lunging again, this time, her claws slicing my chest open in four long gouges, before I could beat her arms away.

The sound of metal sounded as Jasper pulled a large machete from his belt, something he had hidden from us in the green box, at this point I didn’t care, I just needed him to get this thing away from me.  It worked, the woman turned to him as he struck, slicing flesh from her arm.  A he struck I could see that even though he had cleaved her open, the uncut skin drooped and came away from the bone, leaving nothing between her forearms and shoulder but the bone, and yet she still continued to strike back at him.  As Jasper fought on, I searched around me, my hand coming to rest on my shotgun.

Bleeding and in pain, the adrenaline kicked in, I leveled the shotgun at the woman’s torso, what little there was concealing her rib cage, the moment came, she swiped at Jasper who dodged and struck, forcing her back enough for me to squeeze the trigger.  The slug lifted her off the ground, yet she didn’t fall, looking only more violent, she launched once more at Jasper.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jason running back towards us, the large engraved knife from the footlocker in his hand.  It was too late, I let off another blast, again collecting the woman in the chest, this time, she staggered and recoiled.  Setting herself, she leaped into the air above us, towards the tree line, she was trying to make her escape.  I rolled on my stomach as Jasper un-holstered his revolver and fired, his shot sending a chunk of the woman’s shoulder to the ground as she landed.  Again I fired with the shotgun, the slug again hitting its mark, it slammed into her back, sending her to the ground.

The old knife

Jason had not slowed down, he was running for the woman, he leapt with greater agility than I expected for a man of his age, plunging the knife into the chest of the woman who was still convulsing.  Something had grabbed me, I was rolled over onto my back to see Jagger, his medical bag in hand.  Jasper was also there, his gaze never leaving Jason and the woman, his revolver steady in his hands pointed at them.

The staples were rough, not as rough as the claws but I counted at least 20 snaps, they stopped hurting after the first four, the antiseptic was the worst, it felt like fire on my skin, the adrenalin still coursing through me, I passed the shotgun to Jagger we both moved to where Jason was calling for help.  Jasper had begun backing the lids off the gas cans and throwing them in the tank.

Jason grabbed the woman by the right leg, I grabbed the left, whatever skin used to be there was gone, now, only bones, we dragged her still twitching corpse towards the manhole, Jason still clutching the knife with his free hand.  At the lip of the manhole, I collapsed, my chest burning, Jasper took hold of the woman with both hands and flung her down the hole, Jason losing his grip on his knife, it also being swallowed by the darkness below.  Jagger began hauling me away from the tank as Jason flicked open his Zippo, Jasper closed the lid of the manhole until only a slither remained, enough for Jason to throw his lit lighter in, jamming the padlock, although not locked, the curved bar through the loop, enough to stop the lid blowing off as the fire took control.

My consciousness fading, all I saw was thick black smoke, screaming from a chilling woman’s voice and Jasper calling out, his profanity fitting to the situation.  This fire would burn for hours, every now and then, the explosion of another gasoline can sending a fresh bloom of bright fire light across the tank entrance.

The padlock on the door had been cut...

It was time to go, Jagger, who now seemed almost back to his normal self, aided me into the back of the car, Jasper took the wheel while Jason, predictably, took a cigarette.  I passed out, my chest burning, my head pounding, only dreams of that woman clawing at me filled my head.

I woke to see we were back at the green box in Albany, Jason and Jasper both with drawn pistols, the padlock on the door had been cut, lying silently on the ground.

Session 02 (Agent Jasper)

***What a mess.
Moving to the top of the hill the farm below proved to be wildly different than the plans had led us to believe. Unsurprising as it was unlikely the house we had seen in the drawings could hold an orphanage.

***I had no idea what I was looking at. Bearded ladies, children playing in the rain and what sounded like Russian marching songs playing over a scratchy PA system.
One of the children seemed to stare straight at us I know he couldn't see us but it gave me chills.

*** Next thing I knew and a dog had walked out of the shrubs it seemed sedate.  Jagger tries doping it with laced meat. Dog casually ignored meat and then just as casually choose to bite me instead and then just stand there. I was forced to dispatch the dog with my fire axe. Not something I'm happy about.

***Things now go from bad to worse as Jagger the "medic" tended my wound he cinched it too tight and I yelled. I could tell from the motion and cries from below that we have lost the element of surprise. I should have bitten down on something but the wound isnt even bad enough to slow me down now so I guess Jagger might not be used to live humans.

***Things start to move quickly and Jason finally takes action. Passing me his long arm he mutters something about no weapons and darts off with Jude around the back of the farm,

***Not 100% catching the plan I take Jagger and we scout for an over watch position to cover whatever Jason intends.

***After more foreign shouting someone with a spotlight starts probing the tress in the same direction where Jason and Jude had been heading.
I went through everything Id been told. Quiet. No weapons. No Cowboys. and take aim on the freak with the spotlight and wait.

***Not long after the freak starts firing into the trees and I pull the trigger dropping him and hopefully freeing the others to move, At this point I decide that there is no plan and its time to seize the initiative. Jagger and I move on the small cabin. Planning between us to breach it and clear it to use as a staging point to support the cover the movement of the others and then pivot to the house once the barn is cleared.

***The cabin was fortified but not very well. Jagger and I quickly broke through boarded window and into what seemed to be a quaint country kitchen. Right down to the confusing smell of fresh baked cookies. Before we could move to the next room a wretched lady approaches us. She started to ramble and my skin prickled and I was hit by a wave of nausea. Realising it had to be the old lady Jason warned us about I shot her cleanly at point blank with buckshot before her ramblings can do real damage.

***As she fell the prickling sensation increased and as I started to move towards the next room she sat back up I didnt have time to consider how but the sickness is rising in me.
 Jagger fired quickly but his solid shot punches the wall next to her but it cleared my mind and I was able to cycle the shot gun and aim for the head but nothing happened.

****I dropped the gun and grabbed up the axe but not before the wretch screamed and my set my skin on fire. At the time I thought her power had been greatly overstated but what I felt was only the side effects of the horror wrought on Jagger. Throwing my full weight behind the axe I put it cleanly through her head and she dropped. This time she didn't stir.

*** I cant even start to explain what happened to Jagger. The skin on his hands had seemed to bubble up in lesions and he was yammering about not being able to see anything though his eyes seemed fine. How had the wretch done it? At this point my Skin Prickled again and I moved over to the body and put a solid slug through whats left of her head and took my axe back. For some reason this failed to settle me

*** My First aid training proved pretty useless so I made secured the are as best I could and prepared to move Jagger. Thankfully I heard Jude's voice calling form the front door and before long I was joined by him and Jason who went through the last two rooms. From their reaction and descriptions there was some seriously weird things. I wanted to look but I could tell I was nearing my limit for this evil and we still hadn't even found the kids.

***It seemed we had regained the momentum so we moved on the main house. Despite high adrenaline we seemed to come together more cohesively and moved through room by room till we found the children. We assumed them all to be innocents until attacked by a young girl. She managed to knife me before I floored her with the axe. Happy that we had everything under control until Jason came in yelling about us not killing the girl. We argued back that she was a kid but he just put a bullet between the eyes and ended the argument. I'm not sure I'm OK with this but I need to find out more about whats going on so keep quiet.

***As we secure the kid in one of the rooms Jagger somewhat recovered from his wounds starts firing of his shot gun in what he says is a move that will motivate the kids to obey. Thankfully Jason took his shot gun away in what I see as a move to protect the rest of us. Jagger was fine going into the cabin but since then has been a little loose.

***As we start the packing up I come across Jagger "investigating the bodies" and prepping them for disposal with his scalpel.
He says this is how he is used to dealing with bodies, perhaps explaining his botched first aid attempt.

***After Jude and I move the bodies out to the lake we realise that Jagger hasn't done it properly and I try to do it but its the breaking point for me and there is no way I can go on.

***I know Jude is worried about the kids we left with Jason so when Jagger arrives I suggest he goes back to pick up Jason and the kids in the van. I'm worried about the kids but also after what ive seen here and on that day it could be best that we just let Jason deal with it.

***Later when we meet up in town they have the kids with them so maybe Jason's phone calls weren't a cover of get rid of Jude. I see the kid who had looked at us on the hill and as he looks back at me another dog walks over. Its too much like the first of that night so I put the axe to work again. Someone sedates the kids and I suggest we stash them back where we met in Boston till Jason and A cell work their shit out.

***Jude and I take the van and now its just one more crappy road trip.

Follow-up Operation SANCTUM

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From:          <JASON> 
Sent:          Monday, December 21, 1998 10:46 PM
To:            <A-CELL>
Subject:       Follow-up Operation SANCTUM

Follow-up Operation SANCTUM, J-Cell, November 19th to 20th 1998

After wrapping up SANCTUM I decided to look further into a number of details that stood out in this case.

For the record, I want to point out that even though I suspect Agent CLOVE initiated this Op by herself, rather than on behalf of Delta Green, there were more than markers to warrant DG involvement.

Apparently, this is not a single stand-alone cult. It seems to have close links with Russian Orthodox churches and Russian/Eastern European charities, especially orphanages etc. What the old woman did to JASPER reeks of hypergeometry. I wasn’t present when it happened, but going by the injuries and the extreme measures taken by JAGGER and JASPER to neutralize her, something inexplicable must have happened to them. Also the amount of damage the old woman was able to absorb was too high to be acceptable.

In attachment I send you again a number of images taken during our Op, from which I have researched and deduced a number of details.

Please forward the following keyword to cell-leaders so they can keep an eye out for any similar groups/encounters (images attached taken from the ‘Shrine’ in the cabin)

RUSSIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH/EASTERN EUROPEAN or RUSSIAN CHARITIES involving children 

Two Ops were directed at this type of group/organization. Both St Vladimir’s Church as well as the Pittsville home for Children had links to the church as well as charities.

BLACK ICONS
After extensive research regarding the iconographic image, similar to stone-age fertility goddesses, I found references to an obscure collection of comparable religious imagery, known simply as the Black Icons. As far as I can figure out, the image found in Pittsville was drawn or copied in the likeness of one of these Black Icons.

The Black Icons are a series of religious paintings done in the style of classical Russian Orthodox religious icons, depicting the story of an apostate monk who forsakes Christianity for the worship of Magna Mater.

The icons were sold to a New York auction house called, McGunn & Naughton, during the 1920s and are rumored scattered across the United States and Western Europe.

Might be worthwhile looking into finding the catalogue of other items sold in the same auction.

MAGNA MATER/CYBELE
("Great Mother"), the Roman name for Cybele, is an Anatolian mother goddess; cult was active around the 6th century BC. Uniquely in Greek religion, she had a eunuch mendicant priesthood, known as the Galli.

GALLI
The Galli castrated themselves during an ecstatic celebration called the Dies Sanguinis, or "Day of Blood", which took place on March 24.

The men encountered in Pittsville had all been castrated in a crude way. I have no doubt that the injuries done could have been inflicted during one of these celebrations, rather than clinically.

SKOPTSY
Perhaps the Galli are not the right angle to look at the castrated ones. There also was a Russian religious cult that has been persecuted throughout the 18th to 20th Century called the Skoptsy (or Skoptsi). Based in Russia, and persecuted first under the Tsarist regime, later by the Soviets, they believed in the absolution of sin through castration. They gained a lot of wealth, which they used to gather followers, by supporting the poor, buying peasants and providing shelter for orphans.
The sect was supposedly wiped out during Stalin's reign.

Note: Skoptsy comes from the outdated term 'oskopit', meaning to castrate. The term Skoptsy is not a name they use for themselves, they were known to call themselves "God's Lambs" or "White Doves". Odds that DG operatives come into contact with the word Skoptsy when bumping into any files or paperwork owned by this group is small.

KEYWORDS: BLACK ICONS – MAGNA MATER – GALLI – SKOPTSY - RUSSION ORTHODOX CHURCH and associated CHARITIES

JASON

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Iconography found at the Wayfinder’s Home for Children

Session 02 (Agent Jason)

Jason sat down in the old chair in the hunting lodge, flames roaring in the fireplace. An empty bottle of vodka was laying sideways next to the little side-table, two full ones on top of it.

"So... was it all you had hoped it would be, being re-activated, made cell leader and all? Was there a brass band to welcome you back into the fold?"

"Screw you, Norman, you cynical fuck..."

Jason leant forward and refilled his glass. looking into the fireplace.

The whole thing had been a disaster, as far as he was concerned. So much for explaining the FNGs how to enter and exit, making sure every way was covered blah blah blah. As soon as Jagger had issued first aid to Jasper, the thing was a bust. Not necessarily J-Cell's fault. He still stood by his decision to split into 2 two-men teams. Jasper had done a good job, first covering them and taking a shot at the Bearded Lady, then by leading Jagger to the side of the cabin and taking control there.

Once the two inbred idiots had fallen back inside the shed, Jude and him had pressed forward, covering each other. Even that went good. It just felt like they had lost control over the situation and could only hope to be lucky enough to pull it off. If it hadn't been for Clove's insistence of the urgency of the matter, he would have called it off.

"Yeah... never had much guts for some hard action, hey pal?". Jason ignored Norman

A hectic firefight followed, ending with a dead madwoman in the playground, and two inbred Russians in a crashed car. They had heard shots and shouts in the cabin too, so clearly Jagger and Jasper had also made contact.

Jason emptied his glass again, remember the feeling of helplessness he experienced at that time, knowing that Jasper and Jagger had faced what Clove seemed so terrified by, that old woman that wasn't supposed to speak. He had signaled Jude to go ahead and join them while he would sort out the car situation. Of course Jude didn't follow the instructions, but Jason was happy he hadn't. If he would have gone into the cabin, that baby-faced Stepan would probably have shot him instead. as it was, the mongrel shot Jude, and they both had been able to take the Russian out. Good thing he wore a vest.

"Hang on a second... Do they issues FNGs now with vests?"

"No. And there wasn't one in the Green Box either. He must have brought it..." 

Jason thought about this.

"Sounds like a wayward son to me, pal..."

"Shut up, Norman" Jason refilled his glass and sat back, moving the sawn-off shotgun next to him.

They had cleared the shed and the cabin, making sure there was no-one left. The shed had been awful, clearly a set-up for snuff movies. The names on the tapes left very little doubt as to who the victims were. No need to check them, they had just doused the place and prepped it for later on.

The cabin had been worse. The main area seemed ok, but the backroom had been dark, and the stench was just overwhelming, to the point it had made him vomit. The walls were covered  in God knows what, it seemed fluids, as well as a heap of inverted Russian orthodox iconography. One wall has a painting of an ancient fertility goddess, quite similar to other ancient deities he knew about, and underneath "Death to Spies" was written in Cyrillic. He had photographed it all and ordered Jagger and Jasper to start bagging. He had sent Jude back to get the van, so they could start cleaning up.

A quick inspection of the bodies showed they had all been mutilated. Genitals removed etc. Reminded him of the Skoptsy sect, known for practicing castration of men and the mastectomy of women in accordance with their teachings against sexual lust. But this wasn't exactly it. There was more to it.

"So the Babushka was a bit nasty, huh?" 

"I don't know. I saw the body. Jasper and Jagger took her out, but she did a number on Jagger. he was covered in blisters, and his eyesight was gone for a while." 

From the other side of the room, he heard Nancy's soft voice "What about the kids? Where were they?" 

They had found them in the main house, huddled together in the lounge area. He had kept an eye on the hallways, while the rest moved up into the dining and lounge areas. He heard a scuffle break out, and headed into the lounge, making sure to keep the hallway covered. Apparently one of the girls had drawn a knife and stabbed Jasper, who was holding his stomach. Jagger seem to try and have a conversation with the little bitch. Jason had walked over and shot her straight in the face. Cultist or Stockholm Syndrome, he didn't give a fuck. They had screwed up with the dog, and now they were opening themselves again by not acting.

"That's harsh, pal. They were only Friendlies. And come on... how old was the girl?"

"Fuck you, Norman. Remember Gregg Twyman? How old was he?"

"Ok pal, point taken..."

They had locked the kids up and he had called Clove. She was sobbing. Asking him if he could "take care" of the kids. He had said yes. She had said she didn't have it in her. He didn't need to debrief A-Cell, she would do that.

"Why did you do that, pal? Why didn't you tell her to get fucked?"

Jason said nothing and emptied his glass again.

"Oh... I get it. you were afraid. If you didn't do this, you thought they might forget about you again for another 3 years. If you were lucky. Oh, aren't you the perfect German trooper..."

Jason threw the empty glass in Norman's direction. By the sound of his deep chuckle, he had missed him.

"Ignore him, Norwood" Nancy whispered. "So what did you do?"

He had sent the others off. First Jagger and Jude. told them to get rid of the bodies. Then Jagger with some bullshit about double-checking the area where they had arrived. This didn't have to be on them. This was his job. He had covered the hallway in petrol. He held his lighter. He walked up and down the hallway, catching a glimpse of his face in the reflection of a dirty window. He stopped and stared himself in the eye. What about Emily? What if she was in there? Would you do it then?

Jagger had come in again, asking him what he was doing. He had send the Englishmen off, told him to get the van to move these kids. He didn't have time for that guy. What was his deal? He had fired his shotgun into the animal cages as they were corralling the kids into the bedroom, before Clove had told him what he had to do.

That would give him some time. But he already knew he wouldn't do it. There was something wrong here. From the start he had felt something wasn't just right.

Clove.

The folder.

The whole story how the Group wasn't keen on doing this. The effect the folder had had on him and Jagger when they looked into it. Her telling him not to debrief the Group. This wasn't a Delta Green op. This was Clove's Op. She had re-activated him. Probably recruited the Friendlies too. Used them for whatever her reasoning might have been. And now she was using him to dispose of the kids. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps they needed to be neutralized. Perhaps not. Perhaps she wasn't thinking straight, under the influence of the folder or whatever she had done or seen.

This wasn't her call anymore. This was A-Cell's decision. If he had to do this, it would be done by the book. 

The van had returned. Not Jagger, but Jude came out. Holding a gun and confronting him. No mistaking his intentions. Blabbing on a bit. He had no time for this. He told Jude to move the kids into the van. They lit the place up and then drove off; told Jude to pull over and explained the situation. His doubts about this Op. Clove. He had told him how they needed these kids off the grid until he had contacted A-Cell.

"Sound like you need to take Jude for a fishing trip. Share a couple of beers with him and pop him two in the back of the neck. That guy will fuck you up eventually. You realize that, don't you? He'll fucking kill you on a run when he doesn't like your music in the car or whatever."

"Shut up, Norman. He's an FNG. I would have acted the same with you back in the day if I had been sent on a shit mission like this as a Friendly. First fucking contact with Delta. How do you get guys on your side after something fucked up like this?"

"Hey pal... you waited for three years for a call from them after the clusterfuck at the Chapel... If you're made for the job, you just carry on. Like you did. If he's made of the right stuff, he'll take the job. If not, fuck him..."

Jason poured another generous measure of vodka into another glass. He got up, but thought better of it and fell back into the chair, totally drunk by now.

They had headed east. Jude and Jagger with the van and the kids, to Boston, to the warehouse where the four had first met. Jason had left Jagger behind at a diner in Auburn, while he headed home to connect with A-Cell. He had mailed them, explained the op and his doubts, his worries about Clove, etc. They replied, telling him to leave the kids and the folder somewhere safe, and that they would take care of everything.

"You turned Clove in? That's fucking harsh, pal..."

"Norman, the whole thing wasn't right. It wasn't a Delta Op. She had orchestrated the whole thing. Best intentions, yeah, perhaps. But I HAD to let A-Cell know."

"Still... harsh... you know there's not a lot of sympathy when you... go off the rails..."

He had picked Jagger up and met the others in the warehouse. Apparently they had sedated the kids. He told them about the communication with A-Cell. How he had told them the folder and kids would be here at a certain time, and how they would handle the matter. That seemed to put their minds at rest. They gathered their last bits and made their way out, 5 minutes before the other cell would arrive to take over. He had watched them walk away. He had gotten into his car himself and kept an eye out, making sure no one was returning to check on whatever cell A-cell had found for the job. What kind of guys do you have on stand-by for jobs like this?

Jason had no doubt how this would pan out. A-cell may have been ticked off at Clove for what she did. But clearly there were grounds for the Op. There had been something with the old woman. They

had found enough occult paraphernalia. What about what had happened to Jagger. This had cult activity written all over it. And not just some teenagers having fun with LaVey's Satanic Bible. Proper stuff...

And the kids... they had been there. At the receiving end. Exposed to the cult's influence. Possibly affected. That kid with the dogs? Yeah...

So off you go. Back to your houses. Your wives and children. And go to sleep, thinking the ten kids are safe. A-Cell is looking for foster parents. They're throwing a Christmas party. Whatever. Whatever makes you sleep.

He knew deep down it wouldn't be like that. He couldn't be sure. But he felt it in his bones. He lit a cigarette and drove to the hunting lodge.

"And now what, pal? You gonna sit her for the rest of the week? Don't think you have enough vodka for that... So how bout you just get to the point and blow your brains out."

"Fuck off, Norman"

"Ah come on, Norwood, you know you killed them. Sure, perhaps you didn't light the match, but you might as well have. So how bout you end it all now? Don't look at her, can't you tell Nancy's fucking disgusted by you? JUST DO IT!!!"

Jason roared and got up, unloading the shotgun into the log wall of the cabin. He stumbled a few steps, then fell over and hit his head on the side of a chair, and passed out, while the fire slowly died down to embers, in an empty hunting lodge, in the middle of nowhere.

Operation SANCTUM De-brief

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From:          <JASON>   
Sent:          Monday, November 23, 1998 6:15AM
To:            <A-CELL>
Subject:       Operation Sanctum Debriefing

Debriefing Operation Sanctum, J-Cell, November 19th to 20th 1998

1.       On Wednesday, November 18^th, I was contacted by Clove through this secure channel, informing me I was operationally reinstated and assigned as cell leader to the newly established J-Cell

2.       I was supposed to meet with Clove in Wayland, MA at 0300, November 19^th. This was my first contact with the Group in 3 years. As I met her she seemed distraught, explaining to me that I was assigned 3 Friendlies to this specific op. Apparently the op was a follow up on an op involving a raid on a Russian Orthodox Church in NY, where the folder she gave me was recovered. She explained how she read the folder, and how I was supposed to show the folder to the Friendlies in the event they wouldn’t be on board with the op, it would change their mind.

3.       The op was to neutralize 4 adults, as the cult was spread thin. She also mentioned “the Group is not around to do this, or it’s not worth their time” and “The Group might be fine letting them sit in their backwater doing this” but she wasn’t OK with it. The main focus was on an old woman, and how she needed to be taken out without allowing her to talk to us. Once the op was over, I needed to call her.

4.       After the meeting, I opened the folder myself, and though I can’t recall the exact content, I do remember feeling an urge to stop this cult or whatever it was. I could not shake the feeling that it was the folder somehow pushing me to do this, rather than my own decision

5.       I met the Friendlies the next day, in South Boston, MA and gave them the usual rudimentary briefing, explaining how the op needed to be handled without going into any true specifics. Jagger didn’t seem on board, so I showed him the folder. He reacted to it in a similar way as me, which reinforced my feeling. The others didn’t look into the folder.

6.       We proceeded with the op and made our way west, just outside of Pittsfield, MA, following standard DG protocols as much as possible. Circumstances forced our hand, during scouting, and I made the decision to go on, as Clove had insisted on the urgency of the matter, rather than retreat and come back, as I was convinced we had enough man and firepower.

7.       The targets were neutralized. Jude was wounded in the process (gunshot) and Jagger suffered a number of burns or boils all over his hands and neck. He also seemed temporarily blinded. He and Jasper took out the old woman that Clove had warned us about.

8.       The cabin of the old woman had a number of ritual markings, Russian iconography etc. Scars found on the 2 males and 2 females reminded me of the Russian Skopsty sect. See attached images (images of the Fertility Goddess, the inverted iconography and other generic unsettling images in the cabin).

9.       15 Children were found in the main building, one of whom seemed to have been converted by the Cult, and was also neutralised. The others were locked up. As we doused the other buildings with petrol to erase traces and had the bodies packed for disposal, I rang Clove. She asked me to dispatch the children and told me I didn’t need to worry about debriefing you, as she would do that herself. I sent the Friendlies away to take care of any remaining evidence and doused the house in petrol.
10.   At that stage I went over the whole operation again and couldn’t shake the feeling that something just didn’t add up. For one, Clove contacted me to be re-activated, not A-Cell. I didn’t need to debrief you, she would. A number of other small details. And I still had that nagging feel of the effect of the folder on me. At that stage I decided not to neutralize them, but to take them with us, to the safe-house in South Boston, and contact A-Cell directly. The rest of the story is known to you.

Final thoughts:

The three Friendlies could work as full Agents, either in J-cell or in any other cell with openings.

* Jasper seems solid. Easy to work with, dependable and able to improvise and take over when needed.

*Jude is of similar cut, but seems to a bit of a wildcard, making his own decisions rather than following instructions at times. Dependable in a firefight. Might need some extra instruction prior to activation as full agent.

*Jagger needs to be observed. Psychological help might be needed, as he may have some side effects of reading the folder as well of the confrontation with the old woman. Perhaps there is someone in the Agency that could follow up with him? Apart from that, he has issues.

For more details I refer to my personal debriefing of them in earlier emails.

Jason

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