Operation Shadowed Past: Chapter Nine
Extracting a Suspect in The Delta Green RPG using Mythic 2e
Published by arrangement with the Delta Green Partnership. The intellectual property known as Delta Green is a trademark and copyright owned by the Delta Green Partnership, who has licensed its use here. The contents of this document are ©SolumProtocol, excepting those elements that are components of the Delta Green intellectual property.
Photo by Yura Forrat: https://www.pexels.com/photo/snow-over-house-with-american-flag-14977533/
Stewart Residence, 4AM
I chugged the second can of energy drink as I drove us out of the hotel parking lot, speeding along the suburban streets of Saint Cloud to the Stewart’s place while Montford prepped both our weapons in the backseat.
“So, are we going loud?” Montford asked, an edge to his voice I didn’t like.
“If we have to.” I said tightly. “He’s our last piece of Intel. I don’t want to go in guns blazing and offing the guy by accident.”
“If we take out all 3 here, that’s three less we have to deal with at the AFB.” Montford insisted. I couldn’t argue with that, but even with 4 of us armed with molotovs and rifles, I was still nervous to go loud. There was just so much we didn’t know. We pulled up down the street from the residence and exited the vehicle, plugging in the earpiece and getting on the local radio with the others.
“They’ve been in there since we called.” Tracy reported. Candela and Tracy had moved into their SUV across the street, jackets on and guns prepped, but I knew that neither of them were marksman. I asked Montford to sketch out a plan for a cross fire to give us the best chance if it came down to a firefight.1 We moved the cars around and created a cone of fire that gave Tracy and Candela room to retreat while giving us all clean lines of fire on the entrance.2 It was freezing, and we were all kitted out in heavy winter gear, which had the added bonus of concealing our appearance from any nosey onlookers, but without the weak rays of sunlight it was fucking freezing.3 Despite the frozen fluid in my nostrils, I smelt the targets before I saw them. They filtered out of the house, Stewart pulling a small carry case. and the 3 Metrix goons fanning out around him. Even from this distance, I could see he wasn’t a prisoner, and was going along willingly, even cheerfully. We were missing some important piece of information, something that would explain why, exactly, this guy was so keen to jump into bed with Metrix, but we were running out of time.4 We took a moment to aim, Montford having designated targets beforehand, and when he gave the signal, I pulled the trigger.5 The bullet took the woman in the chest and knocked her flat to the ground just as Montford fired.6 The man on the far side went down in a spurt of blood as Candela and Tracy burst from cover, guns raised and flashlights shining in the last two’s eyes. Candela pointed her shotgun at both of them and yelled at them to get their hands up, but Tracy7 fired a single shot from the M4, winging the Metrix lead and knocking him to a knee. Blood pooled and froze from the wound in his shoulder, but he was still breathing, and as he started to rise shakily to his feet, I saw his eyes go pitch black.
“Take him out.” I said to Montford, pumping the lever action of my rifle and letting lose another shot.8 Montford’s gun fired a burst a moment after my own shot and the man collapsed to the ground before the transformation could take place. Lights were turning on around the neighbourhood, and we didn’t have much time before the police were going to show up, so we needed to move quickly. I would have prefered more time to clean up, but the situation was what it was. “C and T, move up, get that fucker in the car and lets get out of here.” I said over the radio. I slipped my rifle over my shoulder and jogged to the car. “M, come with me, we need at least one of those bodies.”9 He jogged over while Tracy and Candela pointed their guns at Stewart, nudging him towards the SUV.10 The man, who looked very old and frail in the moonlight, let out a muffled sob and shuffled towards the car, his small suitcase bouncing along behind him. I jumped in the car, and reversed onto their lawn.11 I hopped the curb, and bumped one of the parked cars, setting off a car alarm while Montford watched on impassively. I popped the trunk and ran back around as sirens start to echo in the silence.12 We stuffed the leader into the trunk easily enough, but the guy’s clothes were torn from the burgeoning muscle of his transformation, and so he took up the entire trunk. I looked over at the other two, hesitating for just long enough to take in the siren’s volume increasing as they closed in.
“Leave the other two, we need to get out of here before the cops arrive.” I said, slamming the trunk closed and giving the other two bodies a quick once over.13 We had dropped both before they had a chance to transform and I couldn’t see anything on either of them, so we jumped into the car, and I pulled us back over the curb, gunning it for the highway, away from the sirens.14 Loading one of the bodies into the car had clearly taken too long. We hit the highway without problem, but pretty soon we had sirens in the rearview, and I could see they were gesturing for us to pull over. Montford slipped a revolver from the inside of his jacket, and I glared a him, but he just gave his usual shrug and checked the cylinder.
“We have a corpse in the trunk and we are driving a stolen vehicle.” He said, as though offering a gentle reminder. I swore, and put my foot on the throttle, smashing through the speed limit with embarrassing ease. Stolen vehicle aside, I was very glad we had taken Mary Robinson’ vehicle, I didn’t know what was under the hood, but it was significantly more powerful than a standard sedan, and it almost purred as it hit the triple digits.15 We lost the first car, but they must have spread out, because another one cut us off further down the highway. I took an exit as it rammed into the side, shaking us and nearly busting the trunk open. One of the cops got a look in to our car, but the windows were tinted and I still had my muffler on, so I’d have to hope they didn’t get enough to identify me. I left the highway behind and tried to lose them on the backroads, keeping the speed a little to high, and the car started flashing a few lights on the dashboard, but either through blind luck or the superior engineering of the car, we lost them somewhere on the backroads outside of Saint Cloud16. We kept driving, although I had no idea where the fuck we were at this point, and hoped to find a connection with some signage. We drove in near silence for an hour, and I eventually peeled off my muffler as it had soaked through with nervous sweat.
“You’re a fucking terrible driver.” Montford grumbled, stowing his revolver and pulling out his cellphone.
“Next time you can drive. Ass.” 17
Motel just outside Roseau, Minnesota January 18 9AM
We eventually found our way back to a highway, but I kept us driving through until sunrise while Montford snoozed next to me, heading north towards the Canadian Border. I was feeling anxious and full of adrenaline, so it was hard not to gun the engine and drive 30 over, but the last thing we needed right now was more cops. We were running out of time. With Mary and four of Metrix’s big hitters down, it was only a matter of time before the two remaining Robinsons started upping the stakes. I didn’t know what that looked like, because there was still so much shit we didn’t know. Montford had talked with Candela over the phone, and we agreed to reconvene at a Motel just outside the town of Roseau, less than an hour away from the approximate location of Bosun AFB. I felt like I had a pit in my stomach, mostly form the tension but partially because I hadn’t eaten since sometime the day before. The smell of unnatural and slightly rotten meat blew in my face from the heating fan, and my stomach growled in protest, a fact that I tried hard not to think about.
Tracy and Candela beat us to the Motel and were set up in a room with Mr. Stewart by the time we pulled into the parking lot. The lot was empty and the day was overcast, so we risked taking the body out of the trunk and shuffling him up the stairs. If we ran into anybody, we’d just say he was drunk and move quickly, hoping they don’t notice the blood spattered down the front of his clothes. Fortunately, we didn’t run into anybody, so we threw him in the bathtub in the motel and finally, regrouped. With how cold it was outside, I don’t know why we bothered. Tracy looked shaky, but mostly ok.18 Candela was curled into a thick chair in the corner, and was staring into space.
“She’s been like that since we arrived.” Tracy whispered. “It happens sometimes. She gets all…..spacey. Give her some time, she’ll snap out of it.” Tracy didn’t sound confident, but I decided not to press. I could hardly fault someone for being a space case after shit gets tense. Mr Stewart was tied to a rickety chair, his luggage propped open on the bed next to him, revealing a boring pile of laundry consisting mostly drab browns and greys. He was gagged and shivering, although the heat was on full blast.
“Has he said anything?” I asked.19
“Nothing useful. Mostly asking us what was happening and crying.” Tracy said. She sounded uncomfortable, and I advised her and Montford to take the SUV for a supply run. I shared a look with Montford, and he nodded in understanding. Tracy was a kind soul and while she was great to have at your back against the unnatural, I could tell from the way she held herself that putting the Metrix team down while they had still looked human had taken its toll on her. I didn’t want to add to that, and I suspected that I would have to, to get the answers we needed. The two filed out with a shopping list, and I peeled off my winter gear and hung it up, taking my time to get comfortable. For now, I ignored the man and started looking through his suitcase.20 A few changes of clothes and a bland paperback, as well as a bottle of Jack Daniels Special Reserve. I picked up the bottle and retrieved two plastic tumblers from the cramped kitchen before I cracked the bottle open and poured two glasses. I pulled the chair and table over to the retired engineer and placed the glasses on the table. I removed his gag, but left him tied up. I placed a small straw in the glass of bourbon and sat opposite him, taking a sip. Bourbon wasn’t my drink of choice, and I couldn’t taste the difference between this and normal Jack Daniels, but I sighed appreciatively anyway.21 Despite everything, I still didn’t know his first name, so I asked, gesturing for him to have a drink.
“George.” He said, straining at his bindings to take a small sip from the straw.
“George. Nice to meet you. Do you know who I am?” I asked.22
“You’re with the Russians.” He said gravley. “My CO always said the USSR falling didn’t mean shit.” His face was so grim and serious that I couldn’t help it. I laughed. His eyes still held a little fear, but I saw his back stiffen, so I waved a calming hand and attempted to recompose myself.
“I’m not with the Russians, George.” I said with genuine mirth. I pulled out my FBI badge. “I’m with the Bureau. Those men you were being chummy with earlier this morning? Well, lets just say that calling them ‘terrorists’ would be putting it so mildly that it would be vaguely insulting, to them and to me. Which puts you in a very interesting position, George.”23 George Stewart paled when he saw my badge, and went white as a sheet at the mention of terrorists. He stumbled over a reply.
“They said they worked at Bosun.” he stuttered, and I nodded sympathetically.
“Yes. I imagine they do, but here's the missing piece of information, George. Bosun AFB has not had a government presence since your team left back in 2001. They are there illegally, trying to profit from the research data still available there.” George looked suitably horrified, and I felt a slight twinge of relief. I might not have to kill this man. after all. “Are you a patriot, George?” I asked after giving him a few moments to soak everything in. He puffed up his chest.
“Of course I am! I wouldn’t have been chosen to work at Bosun if I wasn’t.” He huffed proudly.
“Of course.” I said soothingly. “You can understand why I ask, given your recent acquaintances. What did they want? And why did you go so easily?”24 The man seemed frozen, as though offered two equally horrible choices and so I sipped more of my drink and waited for him to make a decision.25 Eventually, he deflated and took a long sip through his plastic straw.
“I worked as an engineer for project Charon.” He said quietly. “We were on the cutting edge, making aeronautical innovations that shouldn’t have been possible. You have to understand, this was extremely important work. We started work in the dying days of the Cold War, but even when the USSR fell, we all knew War with Russia was still a possibility. That’s what Bosun AFB was for, it was to help protect America, in case the Cold War went hot.” He took a long pause after this impassioned speech and then continued, in a slightly muted tone. “Our sister project, Project Blackwood was in a set of labs close to the lake. Most of the engineers didn’t see any of that, but some of us, the cream of the crop, we got read in on the real project for Bosun. Charon and Blackwood were just two parts of the same machine, you see. It was called Project Erebus.”
“And what was Project Erebus.’ I asked, feigning a nonchalance I didn’t feel.
“There’s a frozen over lake not far from the AFB. We called it Pond 3.” he said. “But it’s not a lake, at least, not anymore. It’s a helipad. The single most innovative piece of technology we made in Charon was the Nighthawk. It’s a Helicopter, but it’s invisible to the naked eye and doesn't show up on Radar. It was moved ‘offsite’ for further testing, but in reality, Project Erebus took it over and started field testing. Once the tech was fine tuned, Erebus began in earnest. They would drop the Blackwood Subjects across the Canadian border and run combat drills in the middle of winter.” I sipped my drink and tried to maintain calm, but I felt a spike of anger in the pit of my stomach. These things were monsters, whatever combat drills they were running can’t have ended well, for anyone involved.
“So why did Metrix want to bring you in?” I said through slightly gritted teeth.
“They said they couldn’t get the Nighthawk to work. I thought that was interesting, that the said ‘The Nighthawk’, like there was only one. We had 8 functional Hawks when we closed the program down and moved Charon down south. Erebus ceased running after the incident, of course, but we still did good work on Charon, even if none were as revolutionary as The Nighthawk” George rambled for a little bit about Nighthawk, a subject I suspected he didn’t truly understand himself, before I felt calm enough to guide the questions back to something useful.
“Was Pool 3 connected to the rest of the facility?”26
“Yes. Most of Erebus was conducted underground, and they brought the Blackwood subjects along an underground tunnel that was about a mile long.”
“Excellent. Now, I need you to understand something before we move forward, George.” I leaned forward and let the friendly veneer drop, positioning myself so he could see the gun in my shoulder holster. “You very nearly committed treason, do you understand? If we hadn’t rescued you from those men, you would be either dead, or working for the enemy.” I gave him a sharp look, to underscore the severity of my accusation, and he gulped, and nodded. “But all is not lost!” I said after a beat, topping up both our drinks and letting the friendly atmosphere return. “Because you are going to help my team get in to Bosun and get rid of those bastards, aren’t you George?”27
This was a busy scene, with a lot if intel gained, so we are now 10/10 for our Progress Track. The ‘Confrontation’ will be the raid of Bosun AFB. Those drive checks were stressful, if the cops hadn’t fumbled that last roll, I literally have no idea what I would have done haha. That Project Erebus twist was pulled completely out of my ass out of thin air. I love Solo Roleplaying for that moment, where something just clicks and you invent a messed up little lore nugget. Thanks for reading!
NPC Skill: Montford Military Science(Land) - 14/60 (+20% on first attack, if a firefight breaks out)
Looking back, This would actually be pretty loud at 4AM, I feel like, as a handler, I would have been doing some rolls to see if anyone notices all the cars shuffling around. The stolen vehicle is possibly electric, but the SUV isn’t haha.
Oracle: Just Stewart and the three hostiles come out? 50/50 - 54 Yes.
Oracle: Does Sterwart smell weird? Unlikely - 56 No.
Firearms(+20% Position) - 15/92 - 10 DMG Is that Enough to take out? 50/50 - 28 Yes.
Montford Firearms: (+20% Position) - 19/60 9DMG. Enough to take out? Unlikely - 16 Yes.
Tracy Firearms (+20% Position) - 45/60 - 6DMG. Stunned? 50/50 - Yes. (Rules Reminder - Losing more than half of your HP in one go stuns you. Players have to make a CON X 5 roll, which I always forget, so I just put it down to a single Oracle question)
Skill: Firearms - 57/76 13DMG (Logically, if 6 Damage was enough to stun him, this should take him out, so I didn’t bother asking the oracle)
A Little note here, I would assume that the team is savvy enough not to start using their names in a ‘hot’ crime scene, and likely would have agreed upon a mode of address early on in the mission. My blood was pumping after achieving a seemingly successful ambush, so I just went with letters, haha, but trained agents might work with something different.
Oracle: Does he go along? Likely - 54 Yes.
Skill: Drive - 70/54
Oracle: Room for more than one body? 50/50 77 No.
Skill: Search 99/84 - Critical Fail
Oracle: Did we get away without a chase? Likely - 92 No. Drive 86/52 VS Police Drive - 80/30
Opposed Drive - 81/54 VS Police 35/30
Final Opposed Drive - 64/54 VS 99/30 (What a mess.)
End Scene. Chaos Factor 7 End Scene - 7 altered Scene. Remove a Character and Reduce and Activity.
Oracle: Hit he breaking point? Likely - 17 (For my altered Scene, I chose Candela, as I had given her the ‘Fugees’ Disorder since our last meeting with her)
Oracle: Did he say anything of interest? 50/50 69 No.
Oracle: Is there anything interesting? Unlikely - 100 Extreme no
I like to think that her enhanced sense of small and taste has made it so most fragrant alcohol all just tastes the same to her because of the overload
Oracle: Does he think he knows? 50/50 47 Yes. NRO Delta? 98 Extreme No. The Network? 50/50 89 - No.
Oracle: Is he shocked/surprised? Likely - 60 Yes
Oracle: Does he have Aeronautical Intel? 50/50 83 No. A Map? Likely - 82 No. Does he know something about project blackwood? 50/50 - 33 Yes and Random Event.
Oracle: Was there a secret 3rd project at Bosun? 50/50 46 Yes.
Oracle: Were they all connected? Likely - 71 Yes.
End Scene. Chaos Factor 6. Progress +2 (Erebus Intel) 10/10 Next Scene is Confrontation.
This is great!
Another great entry!