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.