REPORT: Operation ANGRBODA
<< After-Action Report >>
Operation ANGRBODA
03-AUG-1999
FBI Special Agent Sasha Rozenstruik and AFOSI Special Agent Catherine Conley receive notifications from the Delta Green secure e-mail.
"URGENT. PRIORITY A1. MUSTER TO SITE ULYSSES IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CONTACT YOUR CELL-MATES."
Without missing a beat, both women drop their activities and head to the safe house. Site Ulysses was an established just outside Washington D.C. that both were familiar with. Upon their arrival they're ushered into the basement, along the way they see N-Cell: NANCY, NICK, NOLAN, O-Cell: OMAR, O'HARA, OAKES, and two fresh faces: LUTHER and LLEWELYN of L-Cell. They don't see their cellmates, MARCUS or MONTY. An old man exits from a nearby room and explains the situation.
On August 1st, 1999. NRO DELTA arrested Agent MONTY, real name: Tom Murphy. They kidnapped him from the motel room he had been living in in Buffalo, NY, for the last few weeks. Information gathered by M-Cell during Operation SIAM SAM, and reports from elsewhere in Delta Green, give a very strong hint as to where Majestic may have taken our agent: a facility in rural Maryland, the OUTLOOK Group.
MIRIAM and MORGAN feel the air go cold. For a heartbeat, they wonder if this meeting was only a pretense to get them here to interrogate them. Then what? Is this going to be that 9mm retirement they've heard so much about? MARCUS...Where's MARCUS?
"As for MARCUS", ALPHONSE continues, "Agent MARCUS has been confirmed safe, at least for the time being, though he will not be joining us. Unfortunately, in the last few months, Agent MARCUS has been out of commission, I'm afraid." the latter clarification was directed to the other agents in the room.
They knew about that, they were just relieved to know their cellmate wasn't with MONTY being tortured, or in a ditch somewhere rotting. The memo had made their way down to the two of them months ago. FBI Special Agent Adrian Walck, Delta Green's Agent "MARCUS" had fallen ill, a routine follow-up for a gunshot wound taken during an operation (an operation the FBI had no idea was really a Delta Green hybrid op) resulted in a disturbing find: The wound was healing slower than normal, and a regimen of tests later the bad news came around: Agent Walck / MARCUS was diagnosed with Leukemia. They were lucky to catch it so early, and his family was big enough that finding a marrow donor would be a cinch, but he wasn't in any shape to go bug-hunting for a while.
"As for MARCUS", ALPHONSE continues, "Agent MARCUS has been confirmed safe, at least for the time being, though he will not be joining us. Unfortunately, in the last few months, Agent MARCUS has been out of commission, I'm afraid." the latter clarification was directed to the other agents in the room.
They knew about that, they were just relieved to know their cellmate wasn't with MONTY being tortured, or in a ditch somewhere rotting. The memo had made their way down to the two of them months ago. FBI Special Agent Adrian Walck, Delta Green's Agent "MARCUS" had fallen ill, a routine follow-up for a gunshot wound taken during an operation (an operation the FBI had no idea was really a Delta Green hybrid op) resulted in a disturbing find: The wound was healing slower than normal, and a regimen of tests later the bad news came around: Agent Walck / MARCUS was diagnosed with Leukemia. They were lucky to catch it so early, and his family was big enough that finding a marrow donor would be a cinch, but he wasn't in any shape to go bug-hunting for a while.
ALPHONSE informs all agents present that they're being assigned to Operation ANGRBODA, with the objectives of infiltrating OUTLOOK, confirming MONTY's whereabouts, and either rescuing him or denying him to the enemy. The task seems almost impossible. OUTLOOK was guarded around the clock by NRO DELTA security officers, not to mention whatever backup MAJESTIC would be able to muster its way at the sounding of the alarm. ALPHONSE has NANCY stand. "NANCY will be our way in. Nance?" he says. With a deep breath, NANCY changes. The waifish blonde FBI forensic specialist suddenly morphs into an obese man in a suit, then an old man in an overcoat with thin grey hair. "This is something all of you have seen NANCY pull this party trick before, hence why you've been selected for this little endeavour. NANCY's "gifts" are going to be what gets us into this facility, but to that, we need to get her a prom-dress, gentlemen. Thank you, NANCY." In her "usual" form, NANCY returns to her spot and sits.
"We need to select somebody, a researcher, a security officer, somebody, anybody from this OUTLOOK facility that NANCY can impersonate. We'll have to kill this person and let NANCY...Inspect them... then she'll be on her way." Any questions?
A few days later. M-Cell and LLEWELYN of L-Cell have been spying on the coneheads and killers from OUTLOOK. Something's wrong with them. Not just the MAJESTIC-brand flinty-eyed sociopathy they've seen before, something worse, something sadistic. Surveillance of their staff have found them showing uncharacteristic tendencies. One of their researchers was scolded by an NRO DELTA officer in his own home for smuggling out research chemicals for recreational use. Only a few nights before, the same researcher took his wife out for dinner. M-Cell saw he wasn't followed by any security, so they tailed him to the spot and had a look in the trunk... They found a brace of dogs that can been butchered. The agents knew them: their "missing" posters were on every telephone pole in the researcher's neighborhood.
Something's wrong, all of them can feel it. A few of N-Cell and O-Cell complain of "weird dreams". Then one night, MIRIAM awakens to NANCY shaking her awake.
"Get up, we need to go". In another room, N-Cell are suiting up. They're not in a rush, but they're not taking their time neither. "What's happening?" MORGAN drowsily asks. "You'll tell you on the way there", NANCY says. They throw on their gear, they hear one of O-Cell asks another "you saw it too right?" as they gear up.
Now they're in a car heading to a suburb of Washington and pulling into an empty lot and marching across fields of tall grass towards some disused greenhouses. "We've got a live one. We're ambushing them. It's been set up for us, just trust us." Without much choice, they prepare for their encounter. For a brief moment, there's something serene about their surroundings, and MORGAN can't help but notice the beer bottles and magazines that little the green house (which has evidently become a party spot for the local teens) and graffiti all over. The moment is brief before the time comes, and at once, they set out into the woods.
"Get up, we need to go". In another room, N-Cell are suiting up. They're not in a rush, but they're not taking their time neither. "What's happening?" MORGAN drowsily asks. "You'll tell you on the way there", NANCY says. They throw on their gear, they hear one of O-Cell asks another "you saw it too right?" as they gear up.
Now they're in a car heading to a suburb of Washington and pulling into an empty lot and marching across fields of tall grass towards some disused greenhouses. "We've got a live one. We're ambushing them. It's been set up for us, just trust us." Without much choice, they prepare for their encounter. For a brief moment, there's something serene about their surroundings, and MORGAN can't help but notice the beer bottles and magazines that little the green house (which has evidently become a party spot for the local teens) and graffiti all over. The moment is brief before the time comes, and at once, they set out into the woods.
Their mark is set to enter into a local park, where the others claim they will ambush him. "Don't shoot 'til we say so" NICK says, "Or unless you're getting your ass beat, then shoot" NOLAN remarks. "Quiet" OMAR says. They approach the edge of the trees and crouch. For a while there's nothing, then a single man comes up a trail, he's laughing to himself, stumbling like he's blind or dumb, sucking down a cigarette. He approaches a bench and loses his trenchcoat, exposes his bare chest. Against the bright moonlight, they can see the blood. He's caked in it. "What're we waiting for? Christmas?" MORGAN says, watching the bloodied man laugh stupidly to himself in the moonlight by the beach. "Not him. The other." Up the trail comes a flashlight flitting against the trees, then focuses on the man. In the light of the flashlight, M-Cell recognizes the man. The researcher, the one with the dogs. Fuck.
"Dr. Young?" says the man with the flashlight. He's in a suit, and has his gun out. M-Cell know NRO DELTA when they see it. "Dr. Young, I need you to turn around and come with me. Now.". The command seemingly falls on deaf ears. He raises his pistol. "Don't play with me, cocksucker. Turn around or you're done for. Now." They can see the researcher's lips moving. "NOW-", Mr. NRO DELTA doesn't have time to finish his threat when the air around him warps as if from heat shimmer. He screams, and in a moment a good chunk of him is blown apart. "AUGH...OH...FUCK" his last words are, then shock sets in and he slumps over dead. Dr. Young then calmly produces a steak knife and finishes himself off.
"Dr. Young?" says the man with the flashlight. He's in a suit, and has his gun out. M-Cell know NRO DELTA when they see it. "Dr. Young, I need you to turn around and come with me. Now.". The command seemingly falls on deaf ears. He raises his pistol. "Don't play with me, cocksucker. Turn around or you're done for. Now." They can see the researcher's lips moving. "NOW-", Mr. NRO DELTA doesn't have time to finish his threat when the air around him warps as if from heat shimmer. He screams, and in a moment a good chunk of him is blown apart. "AUGH...OH...FUCK" his last words are, then shock sets in and he slumps over dead. Dr. Young then calmly produces a steak knife and finishes himself off.
The agents are quiet, then once its evident the excitement is over. M-Cell turns to the cohort. "Exactly what the fuck did we just see?". "Our cue", Nancy responds, and she breaks from the treeline towards the bodies. The others follow. They secure the NRO DELTA officer's radio while OMAR sprinkles lighter fluid on both bodies and sets fire to them. MIRIAM notices NANCY stuff the officer's head into a plastic bag marked 'biohazard'. Then they start for their rendezvous.
"MONTY's been speaking to us" OAKES of O-Cell is first to explain. "What" Miriam asks. "In dreams. The fucker has a way of-" "Sending you dreams" Morgan finishes, "I thought he was kidding when he said he could do that. Fuck.". "He told us to be here, he knew what we were planning. He's helping us" says O'HARA. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves" NANCY says "He might be hepling us, but I don't like what I've seen of him, and I don't like what I just saw". "Me neither" M-Cell concurs. Silence falls over the cadre of agents as it sets in.
If MONTY knew that was going to happen, was that him that killed that Officer? How?
If MONTY knew that was going to happen, was that him that killed that Officer? How?
They contemplated this at their base. That night, NANCY ate an NRO DELTA's officers brain. That morning, he (she) went to work.
NANCY returned and spoke to nobody until she spoke to ALPHONSE. Then it was decided. They were going that night. They would knock over OUTLOOK and get back MONTY. NANCY would infiltrate and work the inside. The rest would breach from the outside. A-Cell had acquired some illegally modified vehicles courtesy of some agents in the Secret Service with access to the motor pool, a few scrapped blast-proof, bullet-proof cars fit for foreign dignitaries were fixed up and sent to Washington D.C., and tomorrow they'd see real fucking action.
The raid went...well, the way they always do. Messily.
It was our intention that NANCY would sneak in and eliminate most of the resistance, but MONTY had his own plans. NANCY had hardly walked through the foyer when the guards at the front gate turned their guns on each other and loosed a brace of grenades, blowing themselves, the gates, and their comrades apart in a flurry of pellets. There was a collective "Fuck" and the agents peel in, and the battle is joined. NANCY is ripping apart NRO DELTA soldiers with invisible claws while a drawn out gunfight on the lawn between Delta Green's finest and NRO DELTA snipers unfolds. LLEWELYN's perforated before a crack shot from MORGAN smokes the last of the Majestic gunmen, and LUTHER gets to work trying to keep his cellmate from dying in Maryland. The foyer looks like a Hermann Nitsch painting by the time the Agents are headed for the bsasement, where the real fun begins.
The screaming and the laughter sets the mood for what's downstairs, but our agents aren't left in suspense for too long when a grinning, severed head leaking black mucus crawls out of an airduct, pulled along by prehensile back and neck muscles. NICK blows the thing away and for a moment everyone stares at it in shock. There's another collective "Fuck". They break into the basement and enter bedlam.
The dead and dying lay about, bloody and obscene. They fight their way to an observation chamber and take a researcher for interrogation. . MIRIAM catches a glance of OUTLOOK's catalogue of tests. It takes only a moment of reading the big book, and the realization that MONTY's probably been treated to the worst of them, for MIRIAM to turn back and blugeon the researcher to death with the butt of her rifle in anger. "Fuck this place. Fuck Majestic. Fuck this country" she huffs out. "Let's fucking find MONTY". A grim look falls over N-Cell as they proceed to the "Scenario Stage".
They encounter onto a soundstage dressed up like the Iraqi fortifications in Kuwait. Actors dressed as Iraqi conscripts lay dead. It's obvious the scenario didn't go according to script. The sound of bashing and cursing leads them to a porthole to an observation room, and further to a room where they find him. MONTY, naked and caked in blood, stomping on . the head of a man in a labcoat. "Hey boss" says MIRIAM.
"Is it you? Is it really you?" MONTY says, he walks out towards the Agents. "What happened here? What did you do?" MORGAN asks. "I brought it through!"...
They encounter onto a soundstage dressed up like the Iraqi fortifications in Kuwait. Actors dressed as Iraqi conscripts lay dead. It's obvious the scenario didn't go according to script. The sound of bashing and cursing leads them to a porthole to an observation room, and further to a room where they find him. MONTY, naked and caked in blood, stomping on . the head of a man in a labcoat. "Hey boss" says MIRIAM.
"Is it you? Is it really you?" MONTY says, he walks out towards the Agents. "What happened here? What did you do?" MORGAN asks. "I brought it through!"...
"Brought what through?"
"Es-So-Gol-Na-Ek." MONTY replies "The Headless Corpse God. This was my plan". MIRIAM's heart tumbles into her stomach at the mention of the Headless Corpse God. "Oh Jesus, boss" she eeks out.
"It's alright. This is the plan. This was always the plan. Give the bastards a bloody nose once and for all" he says. He smiles in victory before his attention is taken by the sound of NICK from N-Cell racking the slide on his shotgun. "Sorry, MONTY" he says. He's first to shoot, then OMAR, then NOLAN, then NANCY, OAKES, O'HARA, the whole gang, save for M-Cell. The bullets stop milimetres from MONTY's skin. He's untouched. He looks in shock at his old allies. "No, not you too."
"Fuck, we gotta go." NANCY says, they withdraw immediately, likely expecting some sort of hideous, telekinetic revenge, but MONTY just stands still. MORGAN and MIRIAM don't move.
"I...I guess I done it" he says. "I'm sorry, boss" says MORGAN. MIRIAM can hardly think to make words. She feels nothing so much as if she's been stabbed through the heart. "It's alright" MONTY assures them, "Go. I'll clear the way for you." They mount the stairs past the carnage towards the courtyard.
"FUCK, we're too late" OAKES says, in the distance, a black helicopter approaches. "Everyone, get in!". MIRIAM can sense MONTY behind her, and looks to him. Naked and bloodied, he walks barefoot through the shattered glass, pockmarked concrete, and the death, towards the grass lawn. He looks to the sky. "Fuck off" he says, swiping a hand at the air. A hideous sound, screeching, twisting, glass breaking. MORGAN and MIRIAM turn and see the helicopter, bent as if it had wrapped itself around a pole, sailing towards the lawn. With a thud that rattles their bones, it crashes, taking a chunk of concrete wall, ten yards of lawn, and the entire corner of the OUTLOOK building with it. "I die here." MONTY says. M-Cell are preparing for their last goodbyes when they see someone. A woman.
She's dressed in a hoodie and a jacket. She has red dreadlocks and piercings across her face. "Hello handsome" she says. MONTY spins. "Ginette?". The woman reachs for something on her head and pulls down a bridal veil, only then do they notice the flowers in her hand. "Come to the chapel with me?"
"What..?" MONTY's clearly as confused as every other fucking person on the lawn of the smouldering OUTLOOK building. "Wait...NO-" with a snap and a flash, MONTY, and Ginette Wirtz, Lord of The Fate, disappear into thin air.
"Es-So-Gol-Na-Ek." MONTY replies "The Headless Corpse God. This was my plan". MIRIAM's heart tumbles into her stomach at the mention of the Headless Corpse God. "Oh Jesus, boss" she eeks out.
"It's alright. This is the plan. This was always the plan. Give the bastards a bloody nose once and for all" he says. He smiles in victory before his attention is taken by the sound of NICK from N-Cell racking the slide on his shotgun. "Sorry, MONTY" he says. He's first to shoot, then OMAR, then NOLAN, then NANCY, OAKES, O'HARA, the whole gang, save for M-Cell. The bullets stop milimetres from MONTY's skin. He's untouched. He looks in shock at his old allies. "No, not you too."
"Fuck, we gotta go." NANCY says, they withdraw immediately, likely expecting some sort of hideous, telekinetic revenge, but MONTY just stands still. MORGAN and MIRIAM don't move.
"I...I guess I done it" he says. "I'm sorry, boss" says MORGAN. MIRIAM can hardly think to make words. She feels nothing so much as if she's been stabbed through the heart. "It's alright" MONTY assures them, "Go. I'll clear the way for you." They mount the stairs past the carnage towards the courtyard.
"FUCK, we're too late" OAKES says, in the distance, a black helicopter approaches. "Everyone, get in!". MIRIAM can sense MONTY behind her, and looks to him. Naked and bloodied, he walks barefoot through the shattered glass, pockmarked concrete, and the death, towards the grass lawn. He looks to the sky. "Fuck off" he says, swiping a hand at the air. A hideous sound, screeching, twisting, glass breaking. MORGAN and MIRIAM turn and see the helicopter, bent as if it had wrapped itself around a pole, sailing towards the lawn. With a thud that rattles their bones, it crashes, taking a chunk of concrete wall, ten yards of lawn, and the entire corner of the OUTLOOK building with it. "I die here." MONTY says. M-Cell are preparing for their last goodbyes when they see someone. A woman.
She's dressed in a hoodie and a jacket. She has red dreadlocks and piercings across her face. "Hello handsome" she says. MONTY spins. "Ginette?". The woman reachs for something on her head and pulls down a bridal veil, only then do they notice the flowers in her hand. "Come to the chapel with me?"
"What..?" MONTY's clearly as confused as every other fucking person on the lawn of the smouldering OUTLOOK building. "Wait...NO-" with a snap and a flash, MONTY, and Ginette Wirtz, Lord of The Fate, disappear into thin air.
"WE'VE GOT TO FUCKING GO, LADIES" hollers NANCY, and the agents shake it off and cram into their getaway cars and peel away.
It could have gone worse. Not by much, though.
The debriefing is long and frought. No one's exactly rushing to call it a victory.
"You're being stood down" ALPHONSE tells M-Cell. "Until we figure out what the fuck is going on, you're stood down."
MIRIAM and MORGAN wonder at what that means, if A-Cell will ever call them again. Maybe that's retirement? Beats the 9mm option. Maybe. Maybe that's what's next.
"You're being stood down" ALPHONSE tells M-Cell. "Until we figure out what the fuck is going on, you're stood down."
MIRIAM and MORGAN wonder at what that means, if A-Cell will ever call them again. Maybe that's retirement? Beats the 9mm option. Maybe. Maybe that's what's next.
But they pack it in. Maybe tomorrow MAJESTIC comes for them next. Maybe not. Until then, it's back to the office like nothing ever happened.
<< END REPORT >>
He must have been down there what, three months?
After they brought him here, they brought him down, past Belial's office, deeper than even that. They brought him this room with holes in the floor and pushed him down one. An "Oubliette" he thinks he heard them call it.
Every week he has a new "caretaker", a rotating cast of five. At first, he never learned their names. Over time, he's gotten them. Lionel Glass, the Lord of Silver; Nathan Harmati, the Lord of Hate; Ginette Wirtz, the Lady of the Land, Anton Merriweather, the Lord of Sleep, and Ruben Frakes, just Ruben. Wirtz was first. She brought him a bottle of wine and slept with him the first night. He was in the right mood for her, the "Pilgrim" has made him "in the mood" for most things most of the time these days. Drugs, fighting, drinking, sex, killing, he could go for any of it, all of it, right about now. That's what is calls itself, "The Pilgrim", the "Traveller". He knew it as the Headless Corpse God. Y'Golonac, Es-So-Gol-Na-Ek. Sometimes it just calls itself "Haji".
Wirtz and Merriweather were "kindest" to him. They gave him hot meals. Wirtz would visit him at night and "take what's hers", Merriweather would just sit at the lip of the hole and demo his latest songs, looking for feedback. Glass and Harmati weren't so good. Glass was cold, and gave him small portions of bland, tasteless slop, and never called him by his name, only "prisoner". Harmati was worst, though. His visits were loud and clangorous, he was one for hurling broken bottles and rotting meat into his hole, and called him such names as "Slave". He would sometimes just sit and stare, and if Tom ever dared to raise his eyes to him he'd launch into screaming fits, and threaten to mutilate and/or rape him in his prison. Frakes was neutral. He called him by his name and asked him questions, mostly about the unnatural and Delta Green. He was the only one who wasn't a lord. One day, Merriweather explained it to him.
"Wirtz and Frakes volunteered for the job of watching you. Wirtz often volunteers when its men prisoners, she likes to use them for her enjoyment, if they're decent looking. Frakes takes the opportunity to learn, he interrogates everyone, trying to squeeze out a secret, a spell, a hidden treasury, anything. He's probably waiting for the thing that'll be his key to becoming a Lord. I was asked by Alzis, I didn't bother to ask why, I've learned to keep questions to a minimum with him. As for Harmati and Glass? They're Belial's creatures. They look up to him, are loyal to him. Harmati would have done it even if Belial hadn't asked him to, he's like Wirtz, except instead of getting his rocks off he just takes out his anger on you. Glass just does what he's told. If anything, he might see this as a punishment."
"How long have I been here?"
"A couple months. It's halloween tomorrow."
"When will you let me out. I have work to do."
"I think they're saying New Year's".
"Fuck."
"Ah well, you've got it lucky, though. Anyways, wanna hear what I'm working on for the New Year's gig?"
"Lay it on me."
"Wirtz and Frakes volunteered for the job of watching you. Wirtz often volunteers when its men prisoners, she likes to use them for her enjoyment, if they're decent looking. Frakes takes the opportunity to learn, he interrogates everyone, trying to squeeze out a secret, a spell, a hidden treasury, anything. He's probably waiting for the thing that'll be his key to becoming a Lord. I was asked by Alzis, I didn't bother to ask why, I've learned to keep questions to a minimum with him. As for Harmati and Glass? They're Belial's creatures. They look up to him, are loyal to him. Harmati would have done it even if Belial hadn't asked him to, he's like Wirtz, except instead of getting his rocks off he just takes out his anger on you. Glass just does what he's told. If anything, he might see this as a punishment."
"How long have I been here?"
"A couple months. It's halloween tomorrow."
"When will you let me out. I have work to do."
"I think they're saying New Year's".
"Fuck."
"Ah well, you've got it lucky, though. Anyways, wanna hear what I'm working on for the New Year's gig?"
"Lay it on me."
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