Operation Winter Strain: Chapter Seven
Making friends 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.
Thumbnail photo by Pixabay: https://www.pexels.com/photo/grayscale-photo-of-chair-inside-the-establishment-162389/
Sagebrush - 4PM
This was a lot to take in. The stranger crouched down and rummaged around in the corpses pockets before retrieving a set of keys.
“Wait here.” She said cheerfully, before jogging back out of the alleyway and out of sight. I took a deep breath through my nose, and out of my mouth, noting dimly that all I could smell now was garbage from the surrounding dumpsters and toppled cans. I nudged the unmoving bodies with my toe before slipping on a pair of gloves and having a rummage of my own.1 The first body had little of interest apart from a pocket knife that I left where it was but the second had a hand scrawled note.2 I skimmed it. The tone was pompous and the handwriting was flowery cursive clearly written with an expensive fountain pen. These men had been sent to seize a CDC agent “poking around” the library. My eyes narrowed at a symbol in the bottom left, a pitch black circle with a single, white teardrop in the center. The note was signed with a single letter “K”. I knew this symbol. It had appeared both in the journals from my previous missions- The Order of Midnight.3
“Rich bastards from New York.” I muttered. “Jasper is going to be thrilled.” I heard the engine of a van echo down the alleyway, and a celebratory whoop before the strange woman appeared again, entering the alleyway at a jog.
“Hey.” she said awkwardly. “You grab that one, and I’ll take the other. Let's get moving.” I nodded, and we hauled both bodies into the back of their own truck before the woman threw me the keys. “You drive!” She said, “I’ll direct.” I nodded numbly and slid into the driver's seat before pulling out on the road. We drove in silence for a while, interrupted by the occasional “Left here.” at a light or 4 way stop.
“So.” She said eventually. “You’re not going to ask any questions?” I glanced at her. She was smiling a placid, slightly awkward, smile but her eyes twinkled in amusement. She was almost offensively good looking, with flawless skin and hair that fell in enviable sleek sheets, but it was hard to look at her and not see her other face. The one that looked like a jackal with all its skin removed.
“I literally have no idea where to start.” I said through gritted teeth.
“Fair enough.” She said lightly. “Let me help you out. The church outside of town, as you have likely figured out, is up to some bad shit. You met Debbie today right?” She asked. I nodded. I didn’t bother asking how she knew that, because what would be the point? “She used to be an excellent reporter, you know. I read her column last time I was in New York, back in ‘96” I glanced at the woman next to be, who couldn’t be older than 25, but again, I didn’t comment. “She’s really good at compartmentalizing. Too good. She has information that I need. That we need, really. You saw the pictures she took of the church right?” I nodded again. “Well, after she took those, she went inside. and then, eventually she turned up back at her apartment. She isn’t, to the best of my knowledge, infected like the others, otherwise she would be dead, but she doesn’t seem like one of the faithful, ya know?”
“So then what is she?”
‘Exactly! I have no idea. She doesn’t remember and there’s a big black hole where the memory should be. The only way I have to take the memory for myself is something I would rather avoid.”
“What does this have to do with me?” I asked, trying not to think about what that last statement meant. “And why have you been following us around?” She waved a dismissive hand
“I’m getting there. We can both agree that whatever is in the church has to go, correct?” She said, looking at me intently.
“Obviously.” I said irritably. “That's literally why I’m here.”
“That is good.” she said cautiously. “I couldn’t be sure. Some agents from your organization wouldn’t be so confident. On the destruction part, I mean. They might be interested in some of the ‘strategic’ uses for evil alien mushrooms. Ya know?” I tensed and peered at her. I recalled Landry mentioning something similar, although not in as many words.
“It has to go. I don’t know what Debbie Graves could have seen that changes that mission.”
“It's a question of scale. If the place has a bunch of horrifying mushrooms and mad cultists, then by all means, go in guns blazing. Burn the place to the ground. But I suspect that there is more to it. There’s a cave system under that mountain range. It’s big, and stretches deeper than I could sense.” She tapped me on the shoulder and whispered. “Trust me, that’s pretty far.”
“What's your point?”
“My point is, there are things much darker, and more horrifying than a bunch of lunatics and their creepy glowing mushrooms. And one of them lurks deep beneath the rocks a few hundred miles from here. If something like that is involved, you’re going to need more than submachine gun and a bad attitude to take care of it.” The woman spoke in a thick burr that I didn’t recognize4, something southern and oddly charming that was already beginning to get on my nerves.
“Where are we going?”
“The edge of town.” She said promptly. “There’s an old building that’s been due for demolition for over a year, but the paperwork is still sat somewhere waiting for approval.”
“And why are we going there?”
“Because Debbie is there.” She said confidently. “I gave her my pager, in case she ever remembers what I need to know. She told me to fuck off initially, but about an hour ago, I got a page from her home phone number. When I got there, she was gone, but this note was on her door.” She held up a piece of lined office paper close to my face. It had an address in Sagebrush, underlined several times.
“That’s a bit suspicious don’t you think?”
“Of course it is. But either way, I’m sure she’s there. This is her handwriting.” I tapped my hands on the steering wheel nervously, hesitating to ask the necessary question.
“And again, why am I here?” I asked. I was clearly missing something from the woman's thought process. She hummed thoguhtfully.
“I’m not used to working alone.” She admitted after a long pause. “It’s more of a necessity than a preference. I knew I needed help, but the first team that was sent out here..” she trailed off and I looked over at her. Her previously delicate features were twisted in a look of supreme distaste. “I don’t trust Nathan.” She said softly, her expression returning to neutrality. “You shouldn’t either. He’s had a hair trigger on him since ‘89. Gut feeling and instinct can only take you so far, and look what happened to his team? Two dead, by their own hands. What do you think happened there?”
“I haven’t asked, and it doesn’t matter.” I said blandly. I was curious, I was sure there was something Jasper and Joe weren’t telling me, but the wounds seemed to fresh to pick at.
“Of course it matters.” She scoffed.
“How do you know Nathan?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual. She ignored me, and continued
“I get a good feeling from you, Katherine. Nolan is smart, and honestly a little picky. He would have chosen you for a reason. I trust Nolan. That’s why you are here.” That was disconcerting, and also hard to swallow. I thought of the other agents assigned alongside me under Nolan Landry. Montford was a hair trigger gut feeling bastard if there ever was one, and while Palmer quick and likable, she was absent minded to an almost negligent degree.
“I’m not sure how discerning Nolan is these days, given some of the people I’ve worked with.” She waved a hand at me again.
“You don’t know him that well yet, but trust me.” We had entered the Industrial district, so conversation halted for a while as the directions became more complicated. Eventually, we pulled up a few blocks outside the residential area to a park with a small amount of green space and behind it, a small, 1 story building with a wide architectural footprint. It didn’t quite look like a house, but I wasn’t sure if it was a commercial building, residential or something else. Maybe an old community center?
“Park here. We don’t want to spook Debbie, on the off chance she came here willingly.”
“Wait.” I said. “Let me just check the back. I’d feel a lot more comfortable going in with some firepower.” I had left my duffel bag and MP5 back at the safehouse, and the pistol in my shoulder hostler didn’t pack much of a punch.5 There were no firearms or weapons, but there was, inexplicably, two sets of dated riot gear tucked away under another pair of jumpsuits. The smelt faintly of mildew, but the normal kind.
“You wont need that, but feel free to take it.” The stranger said cheerfully. “If things go sideways, just keep your head down and I’ll protect you!” She flexed her arm, like she was making a joke, but the sun was low enough in the sky that the shadow she cast was far longer than it should be and ended in a jagged, canine head.
“That would require a lot of trust.” I said cautiously, my eyes flickering between her and her shadow. “I don’t even know who you are.” or what she was, for that matter. She laughed, a disarming, gentle laugh that was likely designed to put someone at ease, an impossible task with her shadow showing such a monstrous contrast.
“You can call me Nancy.”6
Abandoned Building - 5PM
I pulled on the thick Kevlar vest and riot helmet. It was unmarked, but I could see where the stitching had been removed. I was fairly certain this was police standard gear issue in my dad’s day, so it had likely been looted or sold off the side by a corrupt project manager with a surplus of gear and an absence of scruples. Either way, it was mine now, and I felt distinctly more comfortable with it heading into uncertain territory. Nancy grinned at me and gestured for me to follow her. I held my pistol easy at my side, ready to bring it up in an instant.7 Nancy walked confidently towards the door but I glanced around for any sign of danger, breathing through my nose and out through my mouth.8 I felt tense, but all I could smell was a slightly mildew-y scent of old clothes, likely stemming from the strap of my riot helm or the fabric of my armored vest. The only thing I was able to see on the outside of the building, apart from a series of boarded up doors and windows, was a mural. It was beautifully painted, taking up the entirety of the western wall.9 It showed a man, holding a torch high above a crowd of people, radiating an array of warm yellows, reds and oranges. In the center of the mural was a door, the only one I could see that wasn’t boarded up or locked.
“Looks like this is our way in.” Nancy said. She walked towards it and threw it open with gusto, walking boldly inside, and I sped up to follow her. I didn’t like this, not one bit, but after seeing the ease in which she had dispatched the thugs earlier, I imagined the safest place to be right now was close to her, whatever she was.10 The rooms inside were messy and filled with broken or long discarded construction equipment. It didn’t take us long to find Debbie. I was almost surprised to find her alive, huddled in the corner of a room with her arms wrapped around her legs. She was underdressed for the weather, still in the same stained loungewear I had seen her in earlier today.11 She screamed when she was us, a scream that continued to increase in pitch and volume until I was certain she would run out breath, and then she let out a shuddering sob, and huddled back in on herself. I shared a look with Nancy and she shrugged.
“This isn’t ideal.” She said with a strained smile. “But we can work with it!”
I tried to calm Debbie and coax her out of her shell, straining my memory to remember the psychotherapy section of the FBI agents handbook.12 She didn’t start screaming again, but her eyes glazed over and she began to shudder and shake uncontrollably. Nancy placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“I think she remembers.” Nancy said. “Her reaction is not a good sign, for the record. I’ll see if I can coax anything out of her. You should update your team. Don’t mention me, if you please? Tell them you are still researching.” I nodded. I didn’t like keeping such a big secret from Landry or Jasper, but I suppose keeping secrets was a large part of my job, so I stepped into another room and checked my phone. I dialed Landry, and he picked up after the 3rd ring.
“Everything alright Jones?” He said gruffly.
“Sure.” I lied “Everything good with the CDC agents? Did we secure a blood analyzer?”13
“Yes. Joe is working on the blood samples now. We have..” He paused, and I heard him sigh and mutter to himself on the other end of the line. “We have some help ‘caring’ for the agents now. I suspect they will survive.”14
“Are the still blue?” I asked
“Yes. Not as intense as this morning. I suspect by the time they regain consciousness, the blue cast of their skin will have faded completely. Nathan is running background checks. If they are going to survive, then they will need to be handled. But that’s my problem, not yours. How is the research going?”
“I have a few leads, some of which I can chase down here.” I said. “Is Jasper back yet?”
“He is keeping an eye on our new friend.” He said tersely.
“That's fine, I can cab back when I’m finished.” I hesitated, unsure if I should say more over the phone. “I should get back. I’ll give you all a report when I get back to the safehouse.”
When I returned to the room, Nancy was talking to Debbie in a hushed, soothing voice and Debbie, to my surprise, was answering in a hushed, slightly hysterical whisper. I leaned against the wall and watched. Sunlight was fading, and the light above me flickered unenthusiastically, casting frenetic shadows along the wall. Nancy’s shadow stills stretched unnaturally long, and undeniably canine. It felt like it was watching me. I pulled the slim book from my jacket, the one written by Walter Sims and began to flick through it.15 It was packed with a small cramped font and poorly edited, intermingled with a few, hand drawn images of seemingly hypothetical fungi and fauna. Nearly all of what was described was said to be extinct, and the obvious question became, how did Sims know about it at all? Is it all a fabrication or a delusion?16 The tone began scholarly enough, with an opening introduction and abstract followed by a few pages of fungi descriptions and corresponding images, but by the halfway point, the writing shifted in tone, and became quite frenetic, each article flowing jarringly into the next.17 The logic seemed to be that each of the mushrooms and fauna described were, in truth, part of a great whole, a ‘cornucopia’ of ancient fauna that used to be abundant, but now only exist in the garden of a someone called ‘Tsathoggua’, although the text didn’t make it clear if this garden was a traditional garden, or more metaphorical one.18
“Why the fuck was this in the library?” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. This was clearly an occult journal, the kind of shit the program is supposed to find and destroy, and yet here it was, available to anyone with a library card. It even had a fucking ISBN number! I slipped the volume back into my jacket and moved over to Nancy, who had stopped talking and was standing over Debbie, a look of concern on her face,
“So, what are we dealing with?” I asked.
“It sounds like there isn’t anything in the church that we have to worry about. Burn the place down, and most of the problem is solved.” She began to worry at her lip with her teeth.
‘I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming up.” I said. She snorted.
“Those tunnels I mentioned? They are a problem.” She gave me the short version. Debbie had gone into the church at night, when most of the people were out to find out what was going on. She had seen a giant wall of blue mushrooms, and seemingly bonded or fused to it was a human man who spoke in her mind. She ran, but she went through the wrong door and found herself wandering the caves beneath the church for hours. What she saw down there drove her insane, at least temporarily, and she came around the next morning covered in filth and curled up here, in this building. Seemingly, she repressed the memory, but now it was back although she couldn’t articulate what exactly she saw in the caves.
“Something bad, obviously.” Nancy finished
“Something we can’t just shoot and hope for the best, I assume.”
“Correct.”
“We should collapse the caves then, that seems like the best option.” I said, and Nancy nodded in agreement.
“We can plan that out on the drive back to the library. For now, we have a more urgent issue.” She pointed at Debbie, whose glazed eyes indicated she was moments away from catatonia.
“Should we drop her off at a hospital?” I said, looking at the listless reporter.
“We could.” Nancy said hesitantly.
“What other option is there?” I said. “Killing her seems a bit excessive, don’t you think?”
“Obviously!” Nancy snapped, before she collected herself. “Killing her is unnecessary. But I could..” She wiggled her fingers. “Re-Suppress those memories?” She said, lilting it up at the end, as though asking a question.
“By hitting her on the head or something? I think I read somewhere that targeted amnesia isn’t real, and only happens in movies.”
“Now you are being deliberately obtuse.” Nancy said with a disapproving glare. “There is a ritual. I’ve used it in the past to make people forget things.” I scowled in disproval, and she arched an immaculate eyebrow at me. “I learnt it from Nolan, before you get any ideas.” I almost flinched at that. Landry knew how to use a ritual? That was disconcerting to say the least.
“So what, you’ll just make her forget the horrifying things she witnessed and hey presto, she’s sane again?”
“She isn’t insane.” Nancy said calmly. “She is having a very logical reaction to something completely illogical. I can’t undo the damage she’s done to her psyche, but I can likely make her functional. That and years of therapy will allow her to return to a seemingly normal life.”
“Wouldn’t that make her a liability? What if she remembers again?”
“She won't, and if she does, well, with time and a return to normalcy, she might be able to, you know. Write it off as a nightmare. or something.”
“A lot of if and maybe in that statement.” I said drily. Nancy scowled at me again. “Why do you care?” I asked, likely sounding harsher than I intended. Her expression softened when she looked at Debbie, who had slumped in on herself in the corner of the room.
“This is how we all end up, you know?” She said softly. “In our line of work, its this, or dead. Or worse.” She turned and looked at her shadow, still flickering menacingly along the wall. “What is the problem with wanting to spare someone from that?” I shrugged.
“I’m not helping, but I won’t stop you.” I said, and returned to leaning against the wall. Nancy nodded in acceptance, and crouched down in front of Debbie. She began talking in a language I didn’t recognize, and waving her hand back and forth hypnotically in front of Debbie, who’s glazed eyes locked onto the moving hand with an absent intensity.19 Watching it was making me dizzy, so I looked away. Nancy finished up a few moments later, leading a dazed but more cognizant Debbie behind her.
“Lets get her dropped off at home and start planning, yeah?” Nancy said.20
I’m a big fan of Agent Nancy as a character and plot device. I’ll talk more about her in my Post script, but she is a prominent Delta Green NPC, featuring in both the Handlers guide and the 90s Conspiracy sourcebook. This mission has gone a number of ways I wasn’t expecting, and I certainly wasn’t planning to introduce a big NPC, but the prompts and story trajectory just made sense to me. Thanks for reading!
Oracle: Anything of note? Unlikely- 55 Yes (Random Event - New NPC - ‘K’ - Cultist leader)
Oracle: Info - Orders to take me? 50/50 - 01 Extreme yes and Random Event. Order of Midnight connection? Likely - 85 Yes.
Random event - NPC Action - ‘Lure Obscurity’. “K”
It’s a Tennessee Accent, for anyone interested
Oracle: Any firearms in the back? Impossible - 77 No. Random Event. 82 PC Positive ‘Trust Defense’
End Scene Chaos Factor 6 Test Scene 9 Scene as expected
Skill: Alertness - 27/80 Anything suspicious? 50/50 44 - Yes Random Event Ambiguous Event ‘Inspect Building’
Oracle: Any smells? 50/50 - 86 No.
Skill: Occult 38/30
Oracle: Is Debbie inside? Certain - 53 Yes. Is she dead? 50/50 86 No. Is she safe? Very Unlikely - 31 Yes.
Oracle: Is she having a mental break? 50/50 - 09 Extreme yes.
Skill: Psychotherapy 80/10
Oracle: Did we get both? Likely - 19 Yes to both
Oracle: Still blue? 50/05 - 64 Yes
Oracle: Any sign of our evil blue mushroom? Unlikely - 98 Extreme no.
Oracle: Anything suspicious in the text at a first glance? 50/50 - 13 Yes.
Oracle: Any mention of the Eldritch being I suspect is related to this case? Likely - Yes
Sanity:(Unnatural) 71/51 - 3 Sanity (1d4) (Projected 1 onto mother for 2 loss total) Gained +3 to Unnatural and Occult.
Sanity:(Unnatural) 27/49 0 Sanity lost
End Scene. Chaos Factor 5 Test Scene - 2 Interrupt Scene - PC Positive - Drop News.
I'm curious if you've watched the Delta Green review on Quinn's Quest and if the prewritten adventures are at all solo able? I'm still trying to find a way to play the Vaesen adventures solo, not using Thursday's child, but playing the spirit of the published mystery if not the actual one.
Awesome chapter. I’m looking forward to learning more about Nancy.