Delta Green: Sanctum

Showing posts with label Sanctum. Show all posts

Thursday, 18 May 2017

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.

Tuesday, 16 May 2017

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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<PATH REDACTED>

Wednesday, 10 May 2017

Iconography found at the Wayfinder’s Home for Children

Monday, 8 May 2017

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.

Sunday, 7 May 2017

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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<PATH REDACTED>

Session 02 (Agent Jude)

After the commotion of the strange dog had passed, Jason and I returned our attention back to the man digging in the open ground that had raised his head in our direction at the sound of the scream. After a few quiet moments, he resumed his digging. Jason was the first to speak, looking at me, he directed me to move down to the right, to the edge of the tree line, somewhat approaching the shovel man. After the bite fiasco, he turned to Jasper and Jagger, handing them the rifle and instructing them to take up an over-watch position to the left. Tactically sound, I agreed and began moving quietly down the slight slope, moving from tree to tree until I reached the edge of the dense woods.

Moving quietly, Jason soon followed me with somewhat heavy feet, I could hear him about 10 meters behind me, tracing my steps, however the man with the shovel was less observant. As Jason made his way to a large tree just outside the dense cover of the surrounding woods, a thick Russian voice began calling out, the bearded man in a dress appeared from the cabin, somewhat conversing with the man digging, I motioned to Jason that I would begin making my way into the more dense area of the woods, concealing myself better but never taking my eyes off the pair.

The bearded man eventually withdrew away from the grave digger, I looked at Jason, it was clear his plan was to grab the attention of the digging man and try to make him come closer to investigate.

I grabbed a small branch and snapped it, generating enough noise to seize his attention. The effect was the opposite of what we desired, the man called out loudly, "Aldric", before running into the large shed out of sight. The bearded man returned to the sight of the digging, now armed with an old surplus M1 Carbine. The digging man also reappeared, also brandishing what appeared to be a Winchester lever action rifle. The Bearded man began to address us, "Hello" he called, probing for a response.

My pistol in hand, shrouded in the sandwich bag and zip tied around my wrist, I took aim at the bearded man, waiting for all hell to break loose.

Within a few minutes, the digging man, returned to the shed and emerged once again, only this time carrying a huge spotlight rigged to a car battery, he began scanning the woods. The beam passed right over me, the thick scrub proving to provide enough cover to obscure their view. It was simple, where they were positioned along side the shed, I needed to get behind them, I needed to keep moving through the scrub so that their light couldn't find me.

I began moving quietly again, as I did, the spotlight hit the tree Jason was hiding behind, they had seen him, calling to him to show himself. I used the opportunity to move faster out of view, not as silently as I had hoped as I clearly was heard, the light moved to me fast and three shots from the M1 Carbine slammed into trees behind me as I dove out of their sight.

Picking myself up as their attention returned to the tree Jason was using for cover, I moved to another large tree, halfway between the cover of the woods and the back far corner of the shed. As my body slammed into the tree, a loud blood curdling scream filled the air, we were discovered.

A single loud gunshot rang out, turning to see its source, all I could see was the portable light beam shake and hit the ground, its beam casting shadows into the hill we had descended. Clearly Jasper had hit his target.

Loud Russian screams and orders filled the air, I took my chances and sprinted to the rusted cars behind the shed, taking cover, giving me a good line of sight to the back of the cabin and open ground between all buildings, sighting the bearded man carrying with some difficulty the digger, still alive but clearly hit in his mid section, the two men threw themselves into the shed, the small door next to the main large swing doors, their only point of entry, completely hiding them from view. My eye line was the doorway they had entered, only seeing a slither. I needed to move to get a better view. As I watched and aimed my pistol at the doorway, Jason came into my peripheral vision, also moving in my direction, he took cover at the back corner of the shed, his pistol also trained.

As Jason moved along the wall, a disheveled female came sprinting from the house, an old double barrelled shotgun in her hands, she took me by surprise, by the time my pistol was trained on her, she was gone, straight through the shed door, out of my view. Scanning for other signs of movement, I caught glimpse of Jasper and Jagger, the glint of shotgun barrels and fire axe giving them away, they had began their assault and entry of the cabin from the driveway side.

I motioned for Jason to meet me at the last main source of cover between myself and the barn door, a large tree at the front corner of the shed, big enough to use as substantial cover, its thick trunk acting like a barricade. I moved fast, my path took me wider of the shed door, the slither turning into a man sized opening. As I slammed my body into the tree, pistol raised, I quickly ducked as the sight of a rifle barrel in the door to the shed opened fire at me, sending bark from the tree's trunk into the air. As if startled by this, Jason changed course, instead of coming to me, sprinting behind me to the cars on the outskirts of the clearing, disappearing behind them where I had recently found cover. Taking cover behind the tree, I looked for him, seeing a dark silhouette moving past the first car I had used for cover and crawling under the next one along, giving himself a good position to return fire.

To give him a chance to get settled, I leaned out of cover and returned four shots at the barn door, my shots, although not perfect, close enough to bring forth a shout of panic in Russian as chunks of door frame turned to splinters. Jason had also joined the fight, his shots, although slow, were precise, causing splinters to puff through the doorway from the inside, yet somehow, we both hadn't made contact with the Russian inside. Who ever was shooting back at me was out of luck, the distinct click of an empty magazine met my ears, taking the opportunity, I returned my gaze to the door, breathing deep and holding as true as I could with my pistol pointing at the door.

Coming from the cabin, loud thuds and crashes filled the air, clearly the boys were having trouble getting through, most likely boarded up, the sound of axe on wood was unmistakable. We weren't the only ones to hear it, unannounced, the girl with the shotgun emerged from the shed, blasting both barrels of the shotgun in the direction of the cabin, running towards it as she fired. Jason's revolver rang out, as did my Glock, his shot hitting her first in the mid section, sending her into a spin, my shot slamming into her chest, sending her spinning to the muddy ground, lifeless. My thought, she was dead before she hit the ground.

Jasper and Jagger must have broken through, the loud booms of shotgun blasts filled the air, whatever they were doing, they were engaged.

My attention returning to the shed, the sound of a loud engine came to life within, clearly the men thought escape was their best option. The barn door opened slowly, one side flung open, the door leaning slightly so that the base never touched the ground, the other side, dragging in the mud, being pushed, a visible hand exposed on its edge. Without thinking i fired more shots at where I thought the torso would be on the other side of the door. My bullets slamming into the timber door, not penetrating, only hurried Russian cries following. Jason had begun to move, reloading his revolver, I followed, flanking him for a shot at the windscreen rather than chancing a tyre shot. We moved around the front of the shed as a beaten up muscle car began to roll out through the doors, both men inside, the driver, the bearded lady, was my target.

Jason fired first, sending three shots into the bonnet and centre of the windshield. I took my time, took aim and squeezed, sending my bullet straight through the drivers side, a spurt of red mist spraying on the interior of the glass, centre mass, just below the neck, he was done.

The car then rolled sped up as if the driver had lost control of his legs, pushing the accelerator and spinning the wheel, sending the car into the small swing set along side the cabin, rolling as it became entangled.

Jason called for me to move to the cabin, the noise within dying down, insisting he would finish the other man in the car.

I ran to the porch of the cabin, looking through the windows I punched on the door calling out to my team inside, making sure they don't think I was a hostile. Looking inside, my mouth went dry, the dim light revealing Jagger, huddled in the far corner, shaking, my immediate thought was that he was down. Jasper on the other hand, standing in the centre of the room, covered from head to toe in blood and muck, a corpse on the ground in front of him, his fire axe embedded in its head. Looking at me, he gave me a slow thumbs up. Hearing more Russian cries, followed by Jason's revolver barking, I turned to see the digging man climbing out of the car, his rifle in hand, Jason missed, twice. I raised my Glock, as I did, the man raised his rifle at me, beating me to the punch, we fired together. My shot missing his head by millimeters. His shot, felt like a sledgehammer against my chest, my vest absorbing the brunt of it. Winded, and in pain, I knew a rib or two were broken, I raised my pistol again and as if together, Jason and I both hit the man in the chest, sending him back, slamming him into the car that Jason's 38 had painted red with the exit wound of his shot through the chest before he slumped over, gurgling blood and bile. Looking at the body briefly, it was good to see Jason and I had the same idea, centre chest, two holes, a centimetre apart.

I stumbled back into the cabin, ripping off the zip tied bag around my gun and pocketing it with all the bullet casings inside, along with the nearly empty magazine. I reloaded, yet didn't bag, as far as I knew, that was four, three outside and the mess Jasper had done in here.

Still cautious, I kept my pistol up.

Looking at the mess around me, the body of an old woman, black and red blood everywhere, on the walls, on the ceiling, on the floor. I starred blankly at Jasper who wasn't taking his gaze from the woman, moving past him to Jagger, he was a mess, his hands bubbling with blisters, his eyes white and glazed over, babbling nonsense. Jasper finally rendered aid after shouting at him for help, he calmly told me that the building was not clear, at that news, I left him to tend to Jagger and spun around to see two closed doors on either side of the room we were in. Jason soon joined me and we opened the first door, a small bathroom met us, no hostiles, clear.

We opened the second door to reveal something even worse, Jason vomited as I looked at the small room, its walls covered in fluid, the stench overpowering, Russian orthodox symbols littered the room, all inverted and defaced. On the far wall, a large depiction of some strange fertility goddess, the words "Death to Spies" written in Russian above it, Jason, with his mild knowledge of Russian told me as much. Something about this room reminded me of my past, the body I had seen, the way it was drained of life, something was very wrong, grabbing my arm, Jason instructed me to go and get the van. The cabin was clear, it was time for me to breath.

I took off down the driveway, clutching my chest, I broke into a run, I knew the surrounding buildings were not clear, I needed to get back there as soon as possible.

Within 10 minutes I was driving up the driveway to see Jagger, somewhat better, his eyes bloodshot, his hands bandaged, shotgun in hand standing at the back door of the house. He informed me that Jason and Jasper had cleared the shed and were now inside the house. I entered without thinking, finding the two of them in a putrid kitchen. I joined Jasper at the doorway to the dining room, what was now a makeshift bedroom for the adults from what its contents revealed. Sounds of movement came from the next room, a large sheet hung in the entry way. Pulling it back, my pistol raised, 14 children huddled on the floor in front of us. As I looked over them all, it was clear they were afraid, the closest child to me, a teenage girl, starred at me with hateful eyes. I took a step towards her, as I did, she pulled a large kitchen knife from behind her back and lunged at me, narrowly missing my throat. I launched a swipe at her head with my free hand, she ducked under my arm. Jasper also lunged with the handle of his axe, also missing, she sliced his mid section, his groan of pain obvious as she cut his flesh. Moving in on her, I was too slow, Jasper already swinging his axe again, striking her on the side of the face, sending her to the ground.

Before another move could be made, Jason was next to me, his pistol firing and blowing out half of the girls face. His words harsh and damning as he stood there waiting for our answer as to why we hadn't acted immediately with deadly force.

Jasper and I withdrew to the hallway as Jagger entered the living room, we moved from room to room, the bedrooms and bathroom all covered in filth, this is where the children had been staying, every room a mess of blankets, mattresses, urine and vomit, this was not right.

We herded the rest of the children into one of the bedrooms, most of whom stopping in the hall, a large wall of caged animals crying and screaming as they passed. As some of the children tried to grab some of the animals from their cages, Jagger let a blast of his shotgun burst eardrums as he placed his shotgun against the cages and fired.

Jason lost it, screaming at him and taking his shotgun from him. At this act, the children filed to the bedroom, locks on the outside making it easy for us to seal them in.

Looking again, at the centre of the cages, the ferret the bearded man had brandished earlier was hissing at us. Ferrets. Disgusting.

The master bedroom was strange, not a bedroom at all. In a disused closet space, a large charcoal drawing on the wall, depicting children surrounded by adults all worshiping some sort of animal head - a ferret head, why ferrets? Disgusting.

Once we were done, Jason told u to start the clean-up, he would join us shortly, he needed to make a call.

It was time for the clean-up, the next half an hour went fast, collecting the adult bodies, Jagger, the medical examiner, as far as I could tell began stripping the bodies, all of whom had been altered, their genitals, even the woman, were gone, heavy scars remaining, not wanting to linger, Jasper and I began wrapping them in tarps and loading them into the van. The corpse of a small boy lay wrapped in a tarp also, it was what the man had been trying to bury when we arrived. Now came the worst part, the body of the old woman, covered in muck, I used a shovel to scoop her body parts onto a tarp, Jagger had requested I try to collect some of her brain matter, I tried, filling one of my small plastic bags with the goo that had been blown out of her head. It was messy.

Once the bodies were loaded, Jason had begun pouring fuel all over the shed and cabin. We were going to burn it all down. Instructing us to take the bodies to the reservoir we had chosen as a rally point, Jasper and I were uneasy about what was going to happen to the children. Jason had spend much of the last 20 minutes dodging the subject, my only thoughts, he was going to kill them.

We arrived at the reservoir and began gathering stones to sink the bodies.

Another 20 minutes past and Jason's car arrived, its only occupant, Jagger. I questioned him as to Jason, he replied that he needed to take the van back to the house. Convinced Jason was not there for the benefit of the children, I instructed Jagger to help sink the bodies and I would take the van back to Jason.

My drive back was fast, I arrived to find Jason in the house, petrol everywhere, he was ready to burn it all down, the children included. My hand went to my sidearm. I let him speak, he clearly saw I was not going to let him burn these children alive. He told me we were going to put the kids in the van. I made it happen, squashed in, the kids were secure. We got in the van, the drive far longer than the previous one. All I wanted were answers.

We pulled up a short distance from the reservoir entrance, we needed to talk.

Jason was pissed, he mentioned an Agent Clove, known to me as Miss Green, this mission was somewhat personal to her, the agency didn't want it, she did. Jason had been inactive with the agency for three years, this was his comeback tour.

Clove had studied the book that had put Jagger on board, Jason had looked at it, it effected him strangely, she wanted the children killed, that is what he was going to report. We were to take them off the grid, something was wrong, something was off, until he knew what that was. Jason wasn't ready to kill these children, maybe I was wrong, maybe he wasn't as cold-hearted as I thought. He also left out one rule, one that contradicts all others. Never tell the truth, to anyone. He was to contact A-Cell, the kids were to be handed off to them.

Jason expressed his concerns about Clove. Was she now a target, having gone off book, even for a shadow agency, he told me she was strange, not herself, not at all.

Satisfied with this answer, I dropped him off to the others to explain while I waited with the kids in the van. We arranged blankets, and essentials, along with food, which I told Jagger to sprinkle with the animal sedative he had picked up for the guard dogs. However to Jasper's fright, another mangy dog appeared at the clearing we had decided to stop at to feed the kids. Without a word he struck it with his axe. He wasn't taking any chances this time. After a while, the noise of the kids faded away, the sedative had kicked in, Jasper and I took the van, our plan, head to the warehouse where everything had started. Jagger and Jason were to contact A-Cell, meet up at the warehouse and go from there.

On the drive, Jasper filled me in on the bodies, Jagger had done everything, puncturing them and weighing them down, all our clothes had been collected and burnt, Jason was going to the green box with all our gear to drop back there, also to collect our bags of personal belongings to be redistributed at the warehouse. I let him sleep, he was exhausted, the drive was boring, he needed the rest. My mind however wouldn't shut down, all I could think about was the mission, of the five targets that we put down, I had killed three of them, was this right, the two men, shot dead, the girl with the shotgun, I had put them all down, was Jason backing me up, or was I backing him up? It was clear that he was not used to this style of blunt force entry, at times I felt he was more of a hindrance than anything else, I guess because it took me getting shot for him to put someone down on his own. Stress, I'll put it down to stress and nerves, having told me he has been out of action for three years. The other two obviously unlucky in having to deal with the old woman, something was wrong with them, they were different. Was I lucky, or not, I don't know.

At the warehouse, we parked the van with its rear doors against a wall, the kids should be out for a few more hours, enough time to take some rest.

Jason and Jagger arrived within an hour, handing out ID's. Jason informed us that this was it, A-Cell was on their way to take over, time to go home.

The book was placed in the van, the children were still subdued, why did this not feel like the end. Were we really done?

At the airport, I booked my flight at the desk, the trip back was going to be interesting, I didn't expect to find much sleep on the plane.

It was Sunday morning, Work tomorrow, back to reality, chalk this all up to a bad dream.

One Last Thing

Clove hung up the burner, letting her hand fall limp, spilling the cell phone onto the floor.

She sniveled back tears, cursing her weakness. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and then pressed hard at her temples.

The Glock sat on the bed next to her, where she had left it, close to hand. It looked so familiar to her, comforting almost. She picked it up and turned it in her hands. She pointed it at herself again and looked down into the barrel, her thumb awkwardly cradling the trigger.

Looks like she had made the right decision, calling on Norwood and bringing in the Friendlies. It was almost done, her one last thing. But had, she, made the decision?

He had agreed, no questions, no doubts. He had agreed. She wanted him to argue, to give her an out, but he hadn't. He knew it had to happen. To make things right it had to happen. She had been like that once, but lately something had changed. She sobbed again and dropped the gun back down, lightly on the bed. She was so tired. Her head fell back onto the mattress and she let her eyes close. Just for a minute she thought.

The sound jarred her awake and for a moment she thought she was dreaming. Then the thumping reverberated through her head again. She scrambled to get up, instinctively searching for the gun in the semi-darkness.

The motel door flung open, cracking at the seam, a figure spilling into the room after it.

Clove abandoned the frantic search for the gun. She didn't recognise the silhouette, but she knew exactly who it was.

Andrea.

"Clove", the figure said. "Clove. You have to come with me."

Thursday, 4 May 2017

Session 01 (Agent Jasper)

***After a somewhat Hollywood clandestine meeting in a park it looks like things are moving forward.

That or Nathan has gone deep to prank me. Maybe I'll finally have answers for what happened that day.

***Just heard from the boss: confirmation!

Not a prank after all.

He has the tickets on his desk and they have fed him a cover story. I hope it's a cover story. If this turns out to be an actual seminar, I'll resign.

*** Plane is in on time.

Taxi driver gave me a funny look when I give him the address. Not a part of town people would fly into see? A good sign.

***Passing the location I see a waiting taxi just down the road from the address. The passenger seems to be taking precautions.

***As the time to the meeting ticks down I head in. Seeing the passenger from the other waiting cab is doing the same.

He doesn't shy from the cold. Carrying himself like he is ready to deal.

One to keep an eye on.

***Inside the building was in disrepair and housed a car that appears have been in serious crash. Though clearly someone had gone to great lengths to clean it up doing a better job than my old man did on his mustang.

***There was a palpable tension between myself and the other man and it only increased when someone walked in late towing enough baggage for a world tour.

Having seen tense situations kill unnecessarily in the past, I let the others know I'm carrying and I expect that they are doing the same. Cards on the table and all that.

***As we moved to the back of the room we see a man smoking at a table and we all move over towards him keeping our eyes on the doors and corners.

There are three empty chairs at the table and though we weren't greeted or invited to sit the others sit. I leant against the wall where I could see the door and cover the others. I made sure to keep Mr.Late between me and the mysterious man along with any weapons that he may have hidden away.

On the table was what looked like a bundle of paper or magazines wrapped in black garbage bags.

I know it's not porn but the seedy set up let the thought lighten my mood.

I comment that where I grew up it's considered rude not to meet a guest and welcome them in.

My comment earns me a hard stare.

I guess where he grew up it's different.

***Finally we get to the introductions.

Mr.Late is an Englishman code named Jagger, guess he must be on a world tour after all?

The other is Jude, maybe a Beatles fan but most likely ex or current army.

Jason???

***When the package falls to the floor all of a sudden Jagger does the obvious thing and sets it right which makes the mystery man very agitated; he definitely isn't a fan of us.

***The man we came to meet, who introduces himself as Jason, gives some basic details about why we are there then gives us an in or out ultimatum.

Refuses to go into details.

I got the feeling he doesn't want us to be there.

I'd decided long ago I either get answers for what I'd seen that day or I'd go mad so I'm in.

Jude asks if the children Jason told us about are in danger, they are, Jude is in.

Jagger seems to want to argue the point, something about medical training and oaths. Jason sent Jude and I out to his car to get maps. At the time I thought Jagger might not be there when we got back.

***Jude opened up when we got out of the room he was refreshingly open compared to Jason. He's ready to do what needs doing though isn't happy about killing a woman. I remembered that I used to feel that way before the day. His reluctance confirmed for me he is military.

We shared the same doubts about Jagger but I pointed out that when we are going into danger without the usual back up expert medical care could be the difference between life and death.

***When we got back with the maps Jagger seemed shaken and had clearly been reading the contents of the black bags. Whatever he saw he won't tell us but it stiffened his resolve so we are ready to go.

***The last days have passed like a messed up family road trip. Jude has been annoying Jagger. I'm pretty sure he is testing his character seeing if he is brittle or if he can hold his own. We eat greasy food and Jason plays the role of dad driving saying nothing until Jagger or Jude go to far.

Jason and Jagger have been fishing for documents whilst Jude and I scout for sites for extraction.

***Jason got mad we had driven past the target during our scouting. Saying we should have waited for his information. Apparently we were supposed to be impressed by his plan of a small suburban house that apparently housed a children's home.

It's ok he doesn't trust us fully but he acts like we haven't even been to the rodeo.

***We go tonight.

Wednesday, 26 April 2017

Session 01 (Agent Jagger)

On a Cold Thursday morning at about 8.15 in the morning Agent Jagger's plane landed at Boston airport. stepping out onto the tarmac Agent Jagger pulled his jacket closer around him and raised his scarf. quickly collecting his baggage he headed for the customs cue which was slow moving but flowing.

getting to the front of the line a bored but fierce looking woman examined his leather carry all with interest. pulling him aside the ask him to explain the contents.

despite flashing his bureau credentials this seemingly takes ages meaning he only gets to the taxi rank at 8.45 with fifteen minutes to get across town before the meeting with the "Group" was supposed to be starting arrival was going to be tight and being late to the first briefing was not the impression of himself that he wanted to put forward especially since he had no idea who he was expecting to meet.

hailing a cab and offering the drive double if he can get him there in less then ten minutes he puts his earphones on and listens to some music to pass the time.

arriving about 2 minutes late he still tips the driver while donning his hat and heading for the door opening it slowly and going to try to close the door with as little disturbance as possible, however the wind has other ideas and whips the door from his grip and it slams shut. allowing time for his eyes to adjust he views the area around him seeing a seemingly totalled family car itching to examine this he instead heads towards the rear of the warehouse where three others are two people very obviously on edge as there hands are hovering over where he can only assume are side arms and one person sitting at a table with an over flowing ashtray on it and some sort of book or folder wrapped poorly in black plastic with signs of fire damage.

taking a seat next to the seemingly calmer older gentleman who introduces himself as agent Jason who immediately asks what each of us bring to the table Jagger responds skills in examination his eyes rarely moving from the book upon the table. agent Jason runs through the rules of engagement for our cell and then progresses onto a mission briefing within which he asks the FNGs as he refers to us to neutralise four Russian Orthodox charity workers one of them isn't allowed to even speak before being taken out feeling way out of his depths and just plain uneasy agent Jagger isn't on board with cold blooded murder. taking the chance when the agent was distracted Jagger Grabs the folder from the floor where it had fallen to and was about to open it when hes firmly told replace it onto the table not wishing to anger anyone he complies and resumes listening. the old man then sends the other two to his car to retrieve some maps an places the folder in-front of Jagger informing him to read it. what Jagger reads is horrid and seems to resolve his issues with the mission instead instilling within him as sense of urgency to get the mission done. the other two return and planning resumes where they decide to hire a van and head to Springfield for more information. hitting up some group supplies or a green box Jagger grabs some first aid kits with a suspicion he will need them in the near future some battery acid to help with body disposal and a Remington shot gun. next they head ti the library to get as much information to the charity location house and occupants as possible to little or no effect. they head out to the location and book into a hotel resupply with some non descript boots balaclavas and a trip to the vet where Jagger's medical knowledge helps to gain some sedatives before they hit the target. waiting until night falls they head up the road and park near the target house and head into the woods where they discover some spikes which luckily are avoided and the reach the tip of the hill and are scouting the location where its reported that there is some sort of Russian bearded lady with a cattle prod and a rodent watching the children play in the rain with out a scope Jagger is uncertain to the bearded lady being true but hears panting he attempts to drug the dog with steak laced with them but the dog seems un interested instead he bites one of the others in the leg and cops an axe to the ribs with little chance of survival it limps off into the night and Jagger under stress attempts to bandage the wound but puts to much pressure on the bandage and makes the wimp scream out like a girl drawing the attention of what seems to be a grounds keeper...

Session 01 (Agent Jude)

Over the course of my career I have encountered things that I cannot explain, things that are for lack of a better word ‘alien’ to me.

It was these experiences that drew the attention of a strange group, a government agency who claimed to specialise in this sort of thing. I was approached by a representative of this agency with the request to join in an exercise to test my abilities and aptitude for the group’s operations.
If I was to agree to their terms, I was to select for myself an alias starting with the letter ‘J’, a name to identify myself by, a name separate to my real world, I am Jude. Taken from the patron saint of lost Causes as those I have worked with over the years have often had that opinion of me. I am Jude.
Even with my history, I still seemed to require testing, I agreed to the terms of the assignment and before I knew it, I was already one of them.

It was the 19th November 1998,I had received my first mainline communication from the Group known as Delta Green. I had been summoned to an address in Boston, I was to meet with someone unknown to me regarding some sort of special assignment. The Trip from Miami was clear, no signs of incident or delay, I arrived in Boston at 0815, I was to make my way to 430, East First St, South Boston by 0900, where the meeting was to take place.

I took a cab from the airport, arriving on East First street at approx. 0845, I sat in the cab a block down from the address given to me, the outside weather was cold, a far cry from the temperatures I am used to experiencing down south, it was about 3-4 degrees Celsius, the industrial area I found myself in was already bustling with activity of workmen and alike, all of them seemed relatively acclimatized by the bitter chill in the air.

As the time for the meeting came closer a second cab pulled up a block further down the road, its passenger exiting the car, a lean man, about 5’11, high forehead with heavy clothing and a ruck sack on his back. He slowly observed his surroundings and began walking slowly towards the address.

I also exited my cab, paying the fair and throwing my overnight bag over my shoulder, by jeans and jacket doing little to protect me from the elements, as long as my hands were warm in my gloves, that’s all I could think about, I didn’t know what I was walking into, I needed my hands ready, just in case.

Advancing on the address I met the strange man, he seemed as curious as to who I was as I of him. Exchanging mild pleasantries, my excuse of a meeting was as thin as his of meeting friends, both giving off the aura of agency types, I allowed him to advance first to the building. A large red brick warehouse, a large roller door at its centre with a small regular door to the right.

We entered the building, from the outside, it looked like an enclosed factory, from the inside, a different story, a derelict space, filled with scrap and junk. The curious sight for us however was the destroyed BMW car in the centre of the space. I emerged from behind the stranger to inspect the vehicle, my left hand never leaving the underside of my jacket, I didn’t know this man or these surroundings, my grip on my sidearm relentless.

He followed me, his curiosity clearly peaked by the vehicle also. Looking carefully, the BMW had been in a massive head on collision, its front end caved in and destroyed, what seemed amiss, there were no signs of what it had hit, no blood, no external scrapes, no dust or stone fragments, just the car. The interior was also destroyed, yet it was intact, someone had done a thorough clean on this car, inside and out, no finger prints, no dirt, no signs of anything, just a wreck.

I continued on through the empty warehouse, scanning the surroundings, in search of any signs of another person, it was clear to me that my compatriot was just as curious and ignorant as I was as to the situation.

Looking towards the back of the building, a room with glass windows and an open door revealed a table and chairs, a lone dark figure sitting and smoking. As the figure took my gaze a loud slamming of a door spun me on my heal, my sidearm all but pulled from my holster. At the entry way to the building, a man entered towing a large suitcase, his suite and fedora casting a peculiar shadow on the wall.

I called to him to identify himself, he only approached with no response, it was clear my fellow cab patron was equally as nervous, his hand also moving to his side, clearly carrying a sidearm of his own. I caught the glint of a 1911 tucked in a holster, far from standard issue, making me think he was also a fed of some kind.

The new entrant approached with a nod and removed a set of headphones from his ears, only asking if he was late.

Clearly not a threat, his British accent and soft spoken nature setting my mind at ease slightly as I turned my attention to the shadow at the table who had since risen and emerged from the room, his old, gaunt appearance barely concealing the slight limp he walked with, he summoned us to the table.

As I approached the table, on it resided a single ash tray, almost full to the brim with burnt cigarettes, and a black garbage bag, looking closer, some sort of folder resided within.
It was clear that everyone was nervous, although to my surprise, the Brit was the most forthcoming.
I kicked a chair away from the table and sat down, giving myself some distance from the others, the Brit sat next to the old man, the lean guy remained standing, leaning on the empty chair in front of him. A cool silence took over the air, no one wanted to talk. It was the old man who first broke the silence, asking us if we knew why we were here and what we bring to the table.
The lean man standing spoke first, his eyes darting from man to man, I think he was more concerned about someone drawing down on him. He explained that he believed we were all carrying and wanted to reassure everyone that there was no threat between strangers at the table, he also explained that he was also summoned here for a meeting and that he brought with him a solid fortitude and ability to kick in a door. The old man called him by name, my name, asking if he was Jude, to my surprise he replied, Jasper.
I then spoke, explaining I was Jude, I was summoned here and I bring with me a fast on the fly attitude and the ability to get the job done, no matter what.

The Brit followed, stating he was Jagger, as if a J name from England would be anything other than the name of a creepy old rock star with a big mouth. He then went into detail about himself, it was clear he was a nerd, medically trained, the only part of his explanation that took my interest was his claim to have taken part in Desert Storm.

The old man followed, Jason, he claimed to be, his tired eyes betraying a severe boredom for young blood and clearly a man with more knowledge than us on what we were to be doing here. He brought to the table a knowledge of history, occult and oddity. Something didn’t feel right, immediately making me think of the curious activity I had encountered in my past that defied explanation.
Jason went on to tell us of the rules, if we wanted in on this outfit, we were

to carry no government issue gear, no ties to our own lives, no friends or family complications, we were to be ghosts. Always have back up identities ready, always be prepared to leave everything in your possession and move on. Simple, it was a purely black bag operation, no traces, no witnesses.
He spoke at length about this, reiterating the same thing over and over, our lives were gone, our new lives of men with no names and no ties were to be who we are now, if we accepted the responsibility.
It was made clear however that there was no backup, if we get stuck, we are on our own, escape and evade being the operative concerns once things go bad. Another interesting topic, you do not lie to the group, we were now J Cell, there was to be trust without cause or proof, trust in all things.

Never do anything alone, another rule, there are no cowboys in this group, no heroes, when tailed, wait for counter tail before losing it, never go into a place without knowing how you are going to get out.

Shocked and surprised, the black plastic bag containing the folder slid across the table and made a deepening crash as it hit the floor. Jasper took a step back and instinctively, I went to draw my pistol without thinking, catching myself as my holster napped open.
Jagger stared at the bag, curiosity in his eyes. Jason instructed us to leave it, no one was to touch it. The more I observed him, Jasper to me seemed to be from a similar station to me, possible ex-military, his explanation of what he does blending with my own in terms of being a door kicker, some sort of tactical operative was my guess.

Jason went on to tell us of the operation we were here to conduct, a Russian orthodox school for children, four hostiles inside, two men and two women, one an old lady, one a young woman. They were to be neutralised, the old woman first, she was not allowed to speak. That was the directive, Jagger threw up much resistance, not sure if he was comfortable with the idea. I ignored him and asked very simply, are there children, are they in danger?

Yes, was the response, enough to cause my agreement with the op, Jasper too. We were in, we continued to ask what kind of danger, what kind of crime warranted termination, no answers came, only that it needed to be done.
Turning our attention back to Jagger, We noticed he had picked up the black bag containing the folder, Jason barked at him to put it down, just the touch of it had clearly shaken Jagger. He dropped it on the table immediately. Turning his attention back to myself and Jasper. He continued his briefing, Wayfairer’s Home for Children, Jasper and I were to retrieve some road maps from Jason’s car outside. We left Jagger and Jason to stew in their own juices, I thought it a prime opportunity to find out more about this guy,

Once out of earshot of the others, I started talking to Jasper, he was FBI, or so he claimed, Hostage Rescue. We were both edgy about the Brit, Jagger, he seemed a little, sheltered for this type of work. We thought that based on the information of two men and two women, we resigned myself to the fact that we may need to do all the heavy lifting, both of us being from backgrounds requiring that kind of work.
We located the road maps and headed back inside to find the Brit, white as a sheet, he had looked in the folder. Whatever reservations he had about what we were going to be doing, were gone.
Once we were all on the same page, Jason began telling us of what were known as Green Boxes, places where gear could be left and taken, s safe area used by the agency. Somewhere ID’s can be left and collected.

We were to travel to Springfield, about three hours away, then on to Pittsville, where the target was, pick up a second vehicle in Springfield and plan from there.
Jasper was to stick with me once we hit Springfield, definitely my preference, someone with a somewhat tactical background, we were tasked with locating a rally point and staging area for the operation.
The car ride to Springfield was painful, Jagger was blaring his rolling stones music, Jasper and I were in the back while Jason drove. I couldn’t help myself, I had to give him shit about it, I could tell that I would reduce him to water if left alone with him for too long.
Once in Springfield, Jason and Jagger were to look into the city records for plans regarding the structure we would be breaching, while they locate a second vehicle, Jasper and I were to begin studying the road maps for the fastest way to and from the target location.

We hit Springfield at about 1400, we dropped the two nerds off at city hall, Jason was going to swing his first fake Id of a real estate agent in order to get the building plans for the Children’s home, Jasper and I however had far more practical plans, we went for lunch.

Once we had eaten and picked up Jason and Jagger after retrieving blueprints, Jason drove us to the Springfield Green Box. E-Z Storage facility, a series of storage containers. As we headed down the lines, we were the only people in sight, entering the locker Jason pointed out, it was full of furniture from an old house with blankets everywhere, however upon removing one of the hanging cloths, a tunnel to the rear of the container emerged. We all moved through to reveal a treasure trove of contraband. My eyes however were drawn to the Glock 17 with loaded mags and the Remington Shotgun laying on a table in the centre of the space.

Jagger however let out a slight gasp, he all turned to see a severed head in a jar labelled ‘Hobo Head’, after checking my pants I regained composure. Walking around the space, there were books, buckets of keys, bottles of acid, assorted ammunition, the two firearms, medical kits, and a bottle of whisky with a note ‘compliments of J Cell’. This told me one thing, we were either the second J cell, or the first one is now gone, permanently.

We each took what we needed and began loading assorted items into the trunk of Jason’s car. Jagger took the acid, medical kits, the whisky and the Remington shotgun, probably the best weapon for someone who would most likely close their eyes to pull a trigger. Jasper retrieved some assorted ammunition, a large black fire axe and one or two other trinkets. Jason, the books, always the nerd, some sort of occult texts that were lost on me, along with a basic rifle scope that also resided on the table of arms.

I slung the glock around my shoulder, its fully loaded magazine and two spares hanging under my arms in a thick, old leather shoulder holster. I also took some zipties that lay about.
Before leaving we all removed our Government issue weapons and ID’s, each bagging them individually and placing them in hidden locations around the room. We would be back before leaving town I would guess. The only thing I kept on me, my body armour, under my clothing, my Kevlar slim vest, I wasn't taking that off, not so long as I am in the field.
Leaving the container, we dropped Jagger and Jason off to rent a van, a vehicle we had chosen as best means of quick entry and exit with the ability to blend in.
Jasper and I again rode together, discussing operational tactics, and sharing our concerns about the other two did seem to swing a little as Jagger’s sudden change of heart after looking at the inside of the folder.

We decided to begin looking for our staging area, looking at the large reserve about a 15 minute drive before the target house. It was a large reservoir, multiple exits and entrances, at night, the cover of the vegetation would completely conceal us. This was the spot, we continued on, deciding to do a drive by of the target area, we drove past the driveway of the target, the house was not visible, instead a long dirt driveway, we didn’t slow down, blending into the light traffic and continuing on a slight incline up the winding landscape. The house itself was hidden behind a dense woodland all around the property. If we were going to go in, it was going to be at night, through the woods, on foot. Not great considering the warning of guard dogs hanging from the semi destroyed mailbox.

We linked back up with the other two to find them with papers and maps in hand and driving an inconspicuous white van. The kind I had busted doing runs from Mexico across the border.
Jason gave us both a verbal for conducting a drive by, he was certain we should have gone there as a four-man team, not two.
We sat in our hotel, arranged by Jason, Jasper and I were on food duty, picking up a bag of grease to pass around.
The evening was quiet, we looked over the plans, a single storey house, no bigger than that you would find in suburbia, no room for children though, multiple entry points, multiple windows. This should be easy.
Jasper and I explained the surroundings, the property was dense, trees and woods on all sides, possible guard dogs.
Jagger spoke at that point, wanting to lace steak with sedative to incapacitate the dogs, I’d only ever seen it done in a movie, was worth a shot if we couldn’t go loud.
We dispersed for the night, Jason bunking with Jagger, me with Jasper. I collected all of our firearms for inspection as we knew we were going in within the next 24 hours. Our inventory consisted of, a Smith and Wesson 38 revolver that Jason never gave up, A Remington 12 gauge pump action shotgun, my Glock 17 9mm, an old Remington 700 hunting rifle in 30-06, ideal for hunting in these parts and an Ithica 12 gauge pump action shotgun. The Ithica and 30-06 came from the trunk of Jason’s car.
I cleaned and oiled everything, Jason was to carry his pistol and the rifle, Jagger the Remington 12guage, Jasper the Ithica and myself the Glock, not that I felt under armed, I knew I could take anyone on with less than that.

The morning was quiet, we headed to the local home depot, it was clear to us, no traces. I bought boxes of latex gloves, balaclavas, basic work boots, everyone gave me their sizes and some cash, and some heavy duty sandwich bags. It was my intention to tie one around my gun hand, no traces, if I had to fire the Glock, the shell casing would remain in the bag.
We left for the reservoir around lunch time, we needed to show the nerds the staging area, they agreed it was a good spot. As the sun began to set, we decided two vehicles, one short of the driveway, the other past it, we would park and meet on foot across the road from the entrance and head in on foot.
The plan went smoothly, vehicles parked, everyone wearing their protective gear, darkness had fallen and we moved in.
We scurried across the road, moving quickly into the cover of the woods, Jason had taken point, he had brought Night Vision goggles, only one pair, so he was to lead with them.
It wasn’t long before I saw it, I told everyone to freeze, long rusty steel spikes protruded from the ground. It looked like a long series at least 20 feet long of 6" nails, semi concealed in the dark, the glint of the steel catching my eye in the moonlight.
Once we had successfully navigated the spikes, we moving along a slight incline to a small ridge looking over the house. However we were met by more troubling sight. It was cold, really cold, we gazed down upon at least a dozen children barely clothed dancing and running around. Two extra buildings had been constructed, a shed to the far right and a small cottage between the house and the shed.

It took a lot of looking but what I can only describe as a bearded lady stood guard over the children. It must have been a man, it had the voice of a man, somewhat muffled by the rain that had begun to fall, it was a thick Russian accent, that’s all I could make out. Jagger jumped quietly as we all became aware of a mangy dog standing right behind us, not aggressive, just looking at us. Jagger threw it some steak, drugged, yet the dog remained more interested in us.

As it didn’t seem to be doing anything to give us away, we turned our attention back to the people in the distance. The Bearded lady was holding a large cattle prod of crude design, and a small animal, I think it was a dog but maybe something smaller. Music was playing, some Russian anthem of some kind. A second man appeared, carrying what looked like a small body draped in a bloody sheet, a sight I had become all to accustomed too. The bearded woman barked at the children raising the small animal in the air, the children then all disappeared into the cottage, all but one, who seemed stuck in place, looking in our direction briefly before joining the other children inside.

The second man began to dig, his shovel dirty in the soggy ground. To our sudden surprise, Jasper gasped as the dog behind us had latched onto his leg, drawing blood. I grabbed him by the collar in an effort to silence him, as I did, he swung his fire axe at the animal, collecting it centre mass, sending it limping into the darkness. Jagger then moved to Jasper and began applying a bandage. Jason and I turned our gaze back to the man digging.

Jagger was a rubbish medic, we both held our breath as we heard Jasper let out a not so silent scream as Jagger tightened the bandage beyond firm. The man digging must have also heard it, he had stopped digging and had turned to face us.