To Catch a Mockingbird, Operation Dissonant Cadance Options

[TheOneRonin]

Time/Date: 1325.05 hours, June 9th, 2071
Location: "The Bunker", Top Secret Briefing Room in the basement of the CAS Department of State building, Atlanta, Georgia

The low hum echoing across the briefing room is reminiscent of the engine sounds of one of the CAS Navy's Submersible Aircraft Carriers. Multi-color LEDs flash beneath the surface of the onyx briefing table you and the rest of the team are seated at, shedding faint light in the otherwise dim chamber. After a quick headcount, you notice that the team is one short. Nick Rozhenko, the team's Pilot and EW Specialist, has apparently not made it back from his training op with the British SAS's 22nd Regiment in Hereford, UK. Indeed, the rest of you have been pulled from your individual improvement training to attend this short-notice briefing. The Commander hadn't given you any real details over the comm (OPSEC, ya know), but the strain in her voice alluded to the urgency and seriousness of this briefing.

The briefing is scheduled for 1330 hours, and you've never known the Commander to be late. You ponder what all this is about as you make small talk with the rest of your team.

[Galedeep]

[Ivan Beckett]
Wiping a slight trickle of blood from his nose, Ivan grunts in irritation. "Damnable spirits..." he muttered, wiping the blood on a red cloth he produced from one of his many pockets. He's dressed like a typical mage, no doubt due to the fact he came straight from one of his many training sessions, attempting to overcast certain spells, or use them in strange ways. If his muttering is any indication, his latest attempt at meddling with the spirits did not go so well.

Pinching off his nose until the minuscule trickle of blood stops, he idly spins his small, silver medallion of a pair of ravens around on its chain, dangling down to his chest. "How is everyone?" he asks ironically, grinning a bit at seeing the eclectic mix of his companions pulled from their various specialties to sit, together, in this dimly lit room.

[Fortune]

[Ashley]

"Bored!"

The wiry, black-haired elf leans back in his chair as he surveys his team mates.

"Too much training, not near enough action." Ash lets the front legs of the chair hit the floor as he leans forward. "I sure do hope the CO's got somethin' juicy for us t' be sinkin' our teeth into."

[Ol' Scratch]

[Rozhenko]

The older ork simply sighs as he stares out the window, watching the Atlantic Ocean drift past. It had been a hell of a ride these last few weeks. Who knew those Brits were such wildcats in the cockpit? Still, it was good to be headed home again. Nothing beats that first night's sleep in your own bed.

Rozhenko was knocked out of his apparent reverie when a flight attendant bumped into the knee of the troll he was sitting next to. He shook his head slightly as he had a look around, sighed again, and slumped even more comfortably into his seat. Not that these coach seats were all that comfortable, mind you, but he's sat in worse.

Ripping open his courtesy bag of peanuts, Rozheko checked his watch to see how long before he landed.

[Cthulhudreams]

[Mosby]

John walks in through the door a few minutes before the appointed briefing time, still clad in his black physical training uniform and dripping with sweat. Carrying a tray of coffees with another precariously balanced on top and a shopping bag with an unidentifiable asian takeaway.

Entering in just enough time to catch Ashley's bored outburst, he the slides the tray coffees onto the table addressing the room with "Good evening." He then snatches the extra large coffee off the tray, slumping into one of the seats with an exhausted sigh.

Giving Ashley a broad grin he says "Careful what you wish for Grasshopper, otherwise this might be your last bad coffee for a while! Short notice and stressed COs mean bad intelligence and awful workups - I got the usual by the way." before breaking open the disposable container and starting to wolf down his lunch with a fork.

[Galedeep]

[Ivan Beckett]

Nodding to John but looking at the food, Ivan twitched his fingers, causing the bag to open and several of the containers to float out, gently landing in front of their respective consumers. A container of steaming sesame chicken settles in front of Ivan, and one of the coffees flies to his hand, Ivan smoothly catching it and taking a swig.

"Needs sugar," he said immediately, like he always does, quickly "grabbing" several packets of sugar and cream, sending them floating over the cup as he removes the lid, emptying themselves into the liquid. The coffee churns itself for a moment, then he takes another sip.

"Better. I needed that. Thanks, John, I'll owe you one."

[Cthulhudreams]

[Mosby]

John grins at Ivan's antics, then uses his fork to gesture at the bloody nose "You know that deliberately injuring yourself so that you cannot perform your duties is a court marshal-able offense, maybe you should give the hocus pocus a rest."

[Galedeep]

[Ivan Beckett]

Rolling his eyes, Ivan snorts. "This is nothing. Just a little strain trying to get a wily Oak spirit under control. They don't like me very much. Can't imagine why; all I did was set it on fire." Chewing a bite of his chicken, still using his spell to move the food from his plate to his mouth, he crosses his arms.

"Beshides..." he says, swallowing. "I need to keep in top shape. This 'ware I had implanted hit my abilities something fierce; I need to get back to where I was beforehand. The stuff is useful, don't get me wrong, but I am in need of practice." Gesturing to the coffee cup, and the plate of food, he adds, "I'll say this for the stuff, though; it helps sharpen up my ability to use magic enough to where I don't even have to focus to keep little things like this from giving me another bloody nose. Not that it would have before, with a bit of effort, but when it comes up on some of the more high-energy spells being flung around, I can feel the difference. Doesn't smack my body around like it used to. Ought to make flinging some serious firepower around a bit safer bet."

Taking a swig of coffee to wash down the sweet chicken, and summoning another few packets of sugar to add to it, he grins. "Besides, if I gave the hocus-pocus a rest, what good would I be, hmm?"

[Fortune]

[Ashley]

With a nod of thanks, Ashley reaches over and grabs one of the cups of coffee as he responds to John's comment.

"Still better'n sittin' 'round here with our fingers up our hoops."

Taking a sip of the bad but boiling brew, Ash rocks his chair back again. As Ivan starts to get into his magic spiel, the elf winks at John, then feigns a large yawn and starts to snore under his breath.

[Galedeep]

[Ivan Beckett]

Grinning at Ashley, Ivan sends a mental flick to the other elves ear. "Just because you can shoot a metal stick, don't think you're too good for magic. Odin knows, it's helped you out before. What have you been doing lately, anyhow?"

Snickering, he adds, "Other than sticking your finger up your hoop, that is. Not judging, of course..."

[Cthulhudreams]

[Mosby]

"What, you mean aside from talking?"

John hides a broad grin behind his coffee as Ivan thwacks Ashley, tossing his now empty takeaway container across the room into the bin. He then rifles through the shopping bag for something spicier then lays in.

Biggest problem with the modern special forces, as he plows into the curry and rice, everyone has improved thyroid glands and it is a royal pain in the ass carrying enough to eat. Luckily we've only got two.

Wish bloody Rozhenko was here. Anything with short notice is going to need transport, and probably insertion. Prefer if he was in on the ground floor instead of coming up to speed later.

I wonder what the hell is going on

While continuing to eat Mosby will log onto the military network, surf across to the intelligence section and browse for anything about emerging threats or current events - as well as tagging a copy of the current threat assessments onto his military use only commlink

[Mister Juan]

[Vincent]

Vincent gently bobbed his head as he rode the elevator down from his cushy desk posting, all the way down to “the bunker�. Since the last field op, he had been given an intelligence analyst posting, which was far from bothering him. Working behind a desk, with a nice cozy view of the park next door was damn soothing. But drawing up profiles on all the major known radical groups leaders was somewhat boring. It was easy. Cakewalk. They all pretty much came out of the same mold. So, Vincent sepnt a good part of his day spinning in his chair. At this point, the ex special agent had almost gotten himself one of those little zen sand garden; with the little polished rocks, and tiny midget rake.

With a faint ping, the door slid open.
Or maybe he'd get one of those little fountains.
Or an ocean sound machine.
Or maybe a goldfish.

As he walked down the featureless hallway, Vincent switched the thick file he was carrying from one hand to the other. In this day and age, everyone worked solely with digital files and electronic paper. But for Vincent, things were different. He felt the need to establish a contact with the physical world; to actually put down his theories and analysis on hard, tangible paper.
Writing helped his concentration.

Now only a few steps away from the briefing room, Vincent stopped in his steps, turning to the side to double check his fuzzy reflection in one of the hallway's polished black walls. With a steady hand, he adjusted his muted red tie, fixed sleeves of his suit, and brushed away at some of the wrinkles on his jacket. He brushed his short brown hair back, smoothed his thin beard and closed in the last few feet to the door.

“'evening, gentlemen.� said Byrne with a warm smile, striding over to an empty seat and dropping his file next to him.

Unbuttoning his jacket, he reached inside for a fountain pen as he opened the thick file with his free hand. For a second, he eyed the coffee suspiciously, before making something akin to a sigh and a grunt. Well, it sounded more like a scoff. Or maybe not...

“So� he took the cap off his pen, looking over at John's wide grin “I hope I'm not joining in too late to catch some entertainment from you boys? �

[Fortune]

[Ashley]

Ashley instinctively grabs for his ear, then chuckles. Reaching across the table, he paws through the food looking for something not-so-spicy before it was all gone. The elf waves at the newly-arrived Vincent before answering Ivan's question.

"Not much lately, which is the problem. Been stuck down at the motor pool with the gear heads. Waste o' time, if'n y'all ask me!"

[Cthulhudreams]

[Mosby]

John blinks, shunting the search window to the edges of his perception.

"I know the coffee isn't up to your preferred standard, but hey, I was in a hurry. As for the song and dance," he pauses, blinking and checking the time "You've got about 4 minutes before the comedy of errors begins. If I am any judge it is going to be real funny."

[Fortune]

[Ashley]

Ash contemplates the empty cup in his hands.

"Hey! If y'all don't want it ..."

[ZenZen]

[Samantha O'Kerrigan]

Sam enters "The Bunker" obviously distracted.
Her fingers tracing arcane symbols into the air and her eyes staring into the distance of an image link, she seems barely aware enough of her surroundings not to walk into a wall.
It is quite obvious that she couldn't be bothered to interrupt her magical studies by something like 'rushing to an emergency briefing' until it actually began, let alone changing out of her casual jeans and long-sleeved shirt for something more appropriate.

Waving in the general direction of the teammates present and muttering a "'Lo everyone...", she finds an empty chair to sink into as she keeps poring over obscure parts of her extensive hermetic library, too concentrated to even blink.
Absent-mindedly, she grabs the coffee in mid-levitation and takes a gulp, her eye twitching slightly as the dark brew makes first contact with her tastebuds.
With only few minutes left until their Commander arrives, her punctuality challenging the accuracy of an atomic clock, Samantha takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a second before returning to the reality shared by everyone else.

The transformation is prominent:
A warm smile on her face, the always cheerful and positive Sam that you all know returned, beaming a "Hi guys. Good to see you all alive and kicking. What have you been up to?" at the assorted professionals, oblivious to the ongoing conversation and antics until now.
"Oh, and thanks for the catering.", she adds with a nod to Mosby as she becomes aware of the food container placed in front of her while reshaping her wavy red hair into an orderly ponytail again.
Food. Now that's a good idea. Should've paid homage to that concept myself today...
Taking a closer look around the table, she raises a brow and asks
"Where's Nick by the way?" while heaving heavily loaded chopsticks towards her mouth, intent to fill her neglected stomach before briefing begins.
Suddenly her green eyes widen in terror, tears forming, the bloodrush to her face blotting out her pale freckles.
Hands covering her mouth, she exhales:

"Shaatsh blahddy shpaihshie!"

[Galedeep]

[Ivan Beckett]

A wide grin on his face, Ivan looks at Samantha and shakes his head ruefully. That girl has some power to her, there's no doubt there, he thought, spinning his medallion between his fingers, but there isn't any conduit for it. She's too...too...absent for the Aesir to respect, and without their respect, she is doomed to cease growing. Pity... Ivan looked at her contemplatively, opening his mind to get a more recent idea as to whether the "other magician", as he always called her, had grown in power.

Assensing Test

[ Spoiler ]

Intuition 3 + Assensing 6 + Specialization (Metahuman aura reading) 2 = 11d6; 3, 6, 6, 4, 1, 1, 4, 5, 2, 2, 5 (Total Successes = 4)

[Cthulhudreams]

[Mosby]

John grins wryly at Ash's equally relentless consumption, taking another big gulp of his coffee "Beats deployment coffee too." as Samatha blithely wanders in.

I sometimes wonder how she passed training, hell, I wonder how she hasn't got her ass shot off. She's good value though.

"Warrant Officer Rozhenko is en-route back from England. I understand they are hurrying him over, but I don't have an ETA. Hoping that he'll show up promptly or the Capitan will have a cast iron ETA."

John then turns his attention back to the door, pensively waiting for things to kick off, taking another gulp of coffee as Samatha subjects herself to his taste in cuisine.

[TheOneRonin]

Your friendly dialogue is interrupted by the hiss of briefing room door. Shifting your attention to the direction of the sound, you spot two figures impatiently making their way into the briefing room. The lithe female to your left is the ConsOps Section 3 Commander, Vanessa L. Haney. Thin and short, she hardly looks the part of a former CAS Navy SEAL team commander, DEVGRU commander, and Combat Applications Group commander. Still, her steely gaze reflects the many years of service she's given your great nation. Beside her is an older man, possibly late 50s/early 60s who looks vaguely familiar. His portly build and awkward gait belie his lack of warrior training...indeed, to your finely honed senses, he smells like a politician.

Commander Haney offers a seat to the finely dressed politico then turns to the team, making eye contact with each of you before she begins.

"Good afternoon, team. Sorry to pull you off your refresher training, but we have a relatively small window for this, and don't want to miss it. The gentleman with me today is Director of DSI Field Operations, Harrison Geller. This mission is coming from his department, and he will be running shotgun. Here's what we have..."

Cmdr. Haney's fingers glide over the holopanel built into the conference room table and trideo image materializes above the briefing table. The image forms into the scene of an utterly demolished building, pockets of burning rubble and dozens of bodies can been seen littering the area.

"March 21st, 2067, Dallas, Texas. The Department of State Foreign Affairs building...all 8 stories, included the embedded DIA listening post, completely destroyed."

The image changes to the wreckage of government commuter jet, pieces of its fuselage scattered along an 800 yard stretch of the Smokey Mountains.

"December 21st, 2068. General Davis Fairbanks, CAS Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. While on his way to his hometown in Nashville for the Christmas holidays, the General's Aircraft took not one, not two but 5 SAM hits, with an estimated 5 more avoided or dealt with by the jet's countermeasures. There were no survivors."

The hologram shifts again, this time revealing a VERY familiar and completely macabre image.
Hundreds of bodies litter the a street and nearby park...their remains, along with the rest of the general area, burned to a crisp.

"July 4th, 2070. Old Independance Day parade in downtown Birmingham, Alabama. When the compressed fuel explosives went off, the temperatures were high enough to melt the concrete sidewalks. 217 dead, almost 2000 injured."

"These scenes are nothing new. Terrorist acts in our country is nothing new. You've all seen it. Some of you have worked on these cases in some form or other. But now, we're gonna give you a chance to catch the sonuvabitch responsib-"

"Vanessa," the politician interjects, "We've discussed this already, and you know where my department, and indeed the President, Congress, and the rest of Atlanta stand on this. We want him dead. He is just to dangerous to leave alive."

The portly bureaucrat almost manages to hide his flinching at frigid stare of Cmdr. Haney, but nonetheless, continues on, addressing the team.

"The man we think is behind these, and many other attacks, calls himself 'el Sinsonte'. We know very little about him, except that he his most likely of Aztlaner descent, that he has ties with the Aztlan government, probably Aztechnology too, and that he directs a cadre of terrorist cells that operate here in the CAS. The intel we do have tells us that he recruits his cells from the Shadow community. Several of his people work as 'fixers' for various corporate interests. Those fixers maintain pools of talented individuals which are hired out to do corporate dirty work. The best of those 'shadow assets' are then directly recruited by el Sinsonte himself. That's the only way to get close to this man. And that's what you all are going to do."

Cmdr. Haney takes over the briefing, cutting off Geller before he can continue.

"Alpha Team has managed to make contact with and turn one of el Sinsonte's 'fixers'."

The holoimage changes once more, this time revealing the visage of human male in his mid 30s with rugged, dark skin, a mop of wavy hair, and a pair of crystal blue cybernetic eyes.

"This man," Haney continues, "is Garrett Sinclair. He is an arms dealer and fixer for el Sinsonte here in Atlanta. We cut a deal with him and he has agreed to work with us. Unfortunately, he has no direct contact to el Sinsonte himself. He gets his work through another fixer..."

Once more, the holo image shifts. Now you find yourself looking at older ork with a full, dark beard, receding hairline, and various piercings along both ears.

"This is Phillip Bourgeois. He operates in the Laf-Bat-NO crescent along the Louisiana gulf coast. From what we've learned from Sinclair, el Sinsonte not only has personal communication with Bourgeois, but he has personally selected members of Bourgeois's stable to work directly for him."

"So here is the op. You will go into deep cover as Shadowrunners...part of Sinclair's stable. Sinclair will be working on setting you up to pull some jobs for Bourgeois. Once you gain Bourgeios's confidence, we are betting he will bring you on as one of his own. Then, you bust ass working for him until you attract the notice of el Sinsonte. Once you have el Sinsonte, you call for evac, and we extract you back to Atlanta."

Geller shakes his head at Haney, and pounds his fist into the table, "Dammit Vanessa! We want him dead! Not captured, not breathing...flatlined. Like I said before, he is too dangerous to try to keep alive."

Geller regains his composure and then turns to face the rest of the team. "There is something else I'd like to mention. While you are undercover on this operation, you will likely be called to do things...things that are outside your normal moral boundaries. You will be breaking dozens if not hundreds of local, state, and CAS federal laws. You might even be called to take the lives of innocents, law enforcement, and maybe even CAS military/government personnel. The DIA is very much aware of this, and we have acquired congressional sanction for this mission. No crime you commit, no matter how heinous, will you be responsible for upon your return. So, with that in mind, do NOT hesitate to do WHATEVER it takes to complete your mission."

Cmdr. Haney's gaze drifts to the table and she lets out a long breath that she had apparently been holding in during Geller's monologue. In a soft voice, she addresses the team while still keeping her gaze fixed on the table, "Director Geller is right. Atlanta believes that stopping el Sinsonte is worth any cost we may have to pay. But while you are out there, there is one thing I want you to remember," her gaze lifts and she makes eye contact with each one of you, "We are the good guys. Don't ever forget that."

Cmdr. Haney then resumes her professional demeanor and continues the briefing. "You will be operating as an experienced team from the Atlanta area. As soon as your identities are complete, you'll be given access to them and be able to study them. Lucky for us, most Shadowrunners live "off the grid", so we don't need to develop the same sort of electron trail as with other identities. Also, we have been given a two year deadline by Atlanta. If you guys haven't completed the mission by then, we extract you, period.

"Now it's time for pre-mission tasks. Byrne, get with Mosby and bring him up to speed on your organized crime and shadow business experience. Fairchild, get with HQ for a summary of the teams cover identities and work out an appropriate weapons package for everyone. We don't want to go in there looking like Uncle Sam gave us a shopping spree at the base armory. Beckett and O'Kerrigan, I want you two working up plans to keep your real identities hidden, and contingency plans in the event your cover is blown. Rohzenko's flight should be touching down around 1700 hours...Mosby, I'll let him know to report to you as soon as he gets in. He will have a trid copy of the briefing, and I'll have some assigned tasks for him as well. We go wheels up in 7 days. Does anyone have any questions?"

[Fortune]

[Ashley]

Noticing the Commander enter the room along with an unknown suit, Ashley's chair slams down on the floor again as he springs to attention. Although the unit might normally dispense with this type of regimen, the presence of an unknown, but obviously important civilian prompts the elf to display the proper protocol.

When Ash hears that the target was an Aztlaner, a sly smile forms in the corner of his mouth. As the details of the mission unfold, it grows more and more pronounced.

Nodding once in acceptance of his part of the preparations, he sits back, merely shaking his head in response to Cmdr. Haney's last query.

[Cthulhudreams]

[Mosby]

When the commander and the politico enters, Mosby stands up and brings the military members of the team to attention. After he returns the Commanders salute he responds with "Bravo team reporting for duty as ordered" before returning to his seat and listening to the briefing.

Mosby listens intently to the briefing, leaning forward with his arms on the table. When asked for questions, he starts to work through his list.

"Yes. Firstly, what is the evac and extraction procedure if he get up to our necks with local law enforcement or similar.

Secondly, how much support do we have from the Agency in the field? Will we be expected to source all material ourselves, or do we have agency support for procurement and informational services. I don't foresee this as a problem for the most part as we will want to use illegal procurement channels to build creditability, but when we are getting close to the mark we may need to procure items outside of known illegal channels to avoid awkward questions. I'd also like to be indirectly in touch with the agency's intelligence assets if at all possible.

Thirdly, can we get access to all previous reports and raw intelligence on attacks attributed to the target, including all information Alpha team has gathered. I appreciate this will be high classification, but we can meet any additional security protocols required. I would like to formulate our own assessments of MO, like mission profiles and the psychology of the target and his associates so we can be optimally prepared to be outstanding candidates for further work.

Lastly, you've turned Garrett Sinclair. Is he bribed, coerced, or bribed with an insurance policy?"

When the briefing is finished Mosby gestures for the team to stick around afterwards.

[Ol' Scratch]

[Nick Rozhenko]

Terribly bored at the long flight, Nikolai reaches into his carry-on bag and pulls out his gamelink. Snuggling into his chair and hooking up to the device, he sits back to play some Dunkelzahn's Quest. He was rather proud of the gear he'd acquired for his circle 15 Windling Nethermancer!

[Mister Juan]

[Byrne]

When Commander Haney entered the room, Byrne was the very last member of the team to be on his two feet. It wasn't because he didn't respect Vanessa L. Haney. On the contrary, he held the woman in very high regard. It was simply that, unlike his fellow team members, Vincent hadn't been condition to stand at attention at the sight of a superior. Where the others saluted her, he gave her a polite nod of the head before sitting back down.

His bearded chin resting in his left hand, his fountain pen still resting in his right, the ex Bureau man immediately recognize the second arrival: Director Harrison Geller, DSI Field Operation. Things hadn't even kicked into gear yet and Vincent knew very well that it wasn't looking good for them. Consular Operations wouldn't be running the show... or else Geller would have never crawled out of his own luxurious office to hit the basement with them.

As the Commander started her straight to the point briefing, Vincent couldn't help himself but divert part of his attention to Geller. He watched him. Studied his movements, the way he spoke, the way he twitched almost imperceptibly. He analyzed him. What did make him snap right back to reality was the very words that came out of the politco's mouth: “
You might even be called to take the lives of innocents, law enforcement, and maybe even CAS military/government personnel.�

Now, Special Agent Vincent Byrne was far from being a virgin at shooting people. He had shot at quite a few people, and even killed some. But, in his eyes, they had always deserved it. He had never struck down another being that didn't have it coming to him in some form or another. Hostage takers, held up bank robbers, serial killers, cop killers. Bad people.

But now, the big wig running the show was telling them they might have to turn on their own people... that they might have to take the lives of those they had sworn to protect. His brow furrowed itself, as he made no attempt to hide his feelings. Vincent's eyes, confusion and disgust scrolling across them, darted from Haney to across from him. Vincent had been under Mosby's command ever since he had arrived at ConOps, and it probably wasn't hard for the team leader to instinctively know that the ex cop felt strongly on the issue at hand.

There would be a place and a time to argue the finer prints of the whole op.... Now wasn't the place nor the time.

As Commander Haney issued their respective pre-mission orders, Vincent simply nodded absentmindedly, his right hand scribbling down a few notes on the inside of his file. He listened to Mosby's question, noting down a few of his own for later. He had something more pressing to ask. When he spoke up, he looked directly at Geller.

“My apologizes, Director Geller, but I need to voice something. Going out on such an op to simply kill a single man is damn right silly. What will we accomplish? We'll neutralize a single threat, maybe slow down whatever grand operation his handlers might be planning. But it won't change a thing. In the world of organized crime, corporate shadow wars and extremist groups, taking out what we think is the head of the snake has never done any good. It has always created a power vacuum... which was always rapidly filled by some new threat.�

He closed his pen, setting him before him on the table as he spoke.

“On the other hand, by actually catching this man, we are looking at the key to unlock one of the largest shadow network in the CAS. This El Sinsonte has links throught the CAS underworld, and probably abroad, to Aztlan, like it was mentioned. By capturing him, we'll have the chance to go after that whole network; to crack dozen, if not hundreds of cells, smugglers, arms dealers and shadowrunners. We will not simply kill a single man; we stand a chance to bring down a massive amount of criminals.�

With his left hand, he gently tugged on his jacket's lapel, straightening it.

“Do not mistake all this for some apprehension from my part. I will do my job, to the very best of my capacities. I just firmly believe that bagging El Sinsonte, and questioning him, would prove much more valuable to our countries security, than simply disposing of him.�

He leaned forward toward the table, his eyes locked on Geller's.

“That is unless we are somehow connected to El Sinsonte. Tell us Director Geller, has the CAS ever done any dealings with El Sinsonte before? Did we fund him in any ways? Did we train any of his men? Did he ever work for us? Is he one of us? It wouldn't be anything new if you answered yes to any of those questions. I'd rather we knew now, than learn ourselves in the field. I'd rather we know now why you are so adament to have us kill him, rather than apprehend him, when he seems to me much more valuable as a source of information, rather than worm food.�

[TheOneRonin]

[TheOneRonin]