Somewhere in London, England
Martin walked past the guard, nodding as he went through the first door. The room was spacious, wide open, with a glass view on the Thames outside. Blacked out glass, it almost acted as one way mirror. Walking towards the second retinal scan, he moved his eye in front of the laser, and a simple shot fired light at the back of his right eye, catching who this was. Martin Duncan Thatcher, Head of Sierra Vanguard, and most of the details that propped up on the guard's computer had black bars through it. The bald 45 year old section leader was nodded through, as the two heavy lift doors opened, Martin entering inside. Exhaling, the door shut, as he was taken down.
The lift doors opened, the facility small underneath MI5, but significant. It was a concrete cell, a basement below a basement, and probably could double as a nuclear bunker. 20m below the ground was deep, after all. The first corridor was thinly decorated, with few pieces to indicate you were in a top-secret, black ops espionage agency's room. Walking forward, Martin opened the door second on the left, walking into the office. It was nicely decorated, and definitely, appeared to be a warm, welcoming place compared to the cold concrete outside. It had a carpet, an oak desk, and a computer on it, though was nestled to the side and clearly looked a little more complicated than your standard affair, with a projector of sorts sat next to it. Taking a seat on the large black leather chair, he brought up the satellite feed, and picked up the tags of Lancaster, Liberty, and Cavalier. They were having fun in that hot hellhole, playing at secret identities. Gosh, it was good fun. Reminded Martin of his days as a field agent, it was good, but it had to end. This was something he did better, after all. Running things. The order of life. Taking a bottle of scotch on his desk, he gave it a whiff, before pouring a measure. He had to check on progress with Drevan, and he needed a drink.
----
Meanwhile....
Somewhere in Peshawar, Pakistan
The hashish bar was smokey, and smelled distinctly of one thing. Thom, or Cavalier, had thought to ask before they entered about the substances they smoked in here. It turned out, one such substance was one that Thom was very happy indeed that existed here in some form or measure. The hash was of excellent quality, and from the pipe, Thom took a good inhalation. Like Lancaster, they were dressed locally, and disguised locally. It was amazing what make up artists could do this day. He really did look like he was some sort of trader, tanned appropriately and wearing the correct clothes, worn to a correct degree to make him look just poor enough. A beard that he'd grown for the last few days had given him the full Hindu Kush look.
"This is most excellent hashish, Sadiq." He said, Thom's Pashto sounding local, and authentic. He had put practice into it, and smiled, as he inhaled again, laughing.
"I am very glad to hear it, Hussain! It is locally sourced, the money goes straight to local farmers. And those local farmers, they fund us! So I don't blame them at all. It is an excellent deal." Sadiq responded, the man sitting across from Thom with a pipe of his own, inhaling madly. He was a contact of a local Taliban leader, of whom Lancaster and Cavalier were here to take down a notch. English-born Mohamed Hassam was making moves, and it didn't look good. They were here to stop him before he decided that another valley would fall from the Pakistani government, and as radical as the latter was, it was better than having the Taliban around. Him being in Peshawar was perfect, and a snatch and grab was due in progress. The fact that Sadiq probably was affiliated with Hassam was why Lancaster and Cavalier were smoking pipes with him.
"Some more, my guests?" He asked, looking accross the bar, another six people reading books, and inhaling from the herbal pipes, this little place cosy and warm. The carpeted floor and comfortable seats were pleasant, but Thom knew how this would end. They'd get what they needed to know, and before Sadiq knew it, his session would be over indeed.
----
Walking into Drevan's cave of a tech room, he watched the hacker at work, standing in the door.
"You look like a man who needs some Scotch." Martin simply stated, walking inside, watching Drevan at work.
"I need you to keep tracking Hassam, one way or another. Liberty should be giving you eyes soon." Martin said, as he adjusted his bluetooth headset that he pulled from his pocket, putting it on, nodding to Drevan, as the comms link went through. Martin had let Liberty take her role in this operation, knowing full well what Lancaster and Cavalier would do. Cassie knew best when it came to environments like this. Hardline Islamic terrorists in a country where Sharia was the law; Martin would give Liberty the choice in terms of how she would follow her target, without arousing any suspicion, though no doubt it would be unorthofox.
"Liberty, it's Kingmaker. Lancaster and Cavalier are busy at the Hashish establishment talking to Sadiq. We're going to pull what we can from them. Keep following him, don't expose yourself. Remember your role. Find him, find out where he's going, and set up a trap to pull him out of that area, preferably alive." Martin said, as he looked to Drevan, the suited section leader looking firm and secure in his expression.
"Have the UGV ready. If this goes to shit, you need get them backup, fast. Keep monitoring the cell phones too, we might get a snippet of something soon."
Martin walked past the guard, nodding as he went through the first door. The room was spacious, wide open, with a glass view on the Thames outside. Blacked out glass, it almost acted as one way mirror. Walking towards the second retinal scan, he moved his eye in front of the laser, and a simple shot fired light at the back of his right eye, catching who this was. Martin Duncan Thatcher, Head of Sierra Vanguard, and most of the details that propped up on the guard's computer had black bars through it. The bald 45 year old section leader was nodded through, as the two heavy lift doors opened, Martin entering inside. Exhaling, the door shut, as he was taken down.
The lift doors opened, the facility small underneath MI5, but significant. It was a concrete cell, a basement below a basement, and probably could double as a nuclear bunker. 20m below the ground was deep, after all. The first corridor was thinly decorated, with few pieces to indicate you were in a top-secret, black ops espionage agency's room. Walking forward, Martin opened the door second on the left, walking into the office. It was nicely decorated, and definitely, appeared to be a warm, welcoming place compared to the cold concrete outside. It had a carpet, an oak desk, and a computer on it, though was nestled to the side and clearly looked a little more complicated than your standard affair, with a projector of sorts sat next to it. Taking a seat on the large black leather chair, he brought up the satellite feed, and picked up the tags of Lancaster, Liberty, and Cavalier. They were having fun in that hot hellhole, playing at secret identities. Gosh, it was good fun. Reminded Martin of his days as a field agent, it was good, but it had to end. This was something he did better, after all. Running things. The order of life. Taking a bottle of scotch on his desk, he gave it a whiff, before pouring a measure. He had to check on progress with Drevan, and he needed a drink.
----
Meanwhile....
Somewhere in Peshawar, Pakistan
The hashish bar was smokey, and smelled distinctly of one thing. Thom, or Cavalier, had thought to ask before they entered about the substances they smoked in here. It turned out, one such substance was one that Thom was very happy indeed that existed here in some form or measure. The hash was of excellent quality, and from the pipe, Thom took a good inhalation. Like Lancaster, they were dressed locally, and disguised locally. It was amazing what make up artists could do this day. He really did look like he was some sort of trader, tanned appropriately and wearing the correct clothes, worn to a correct degree to make him look just poor enough. A beard that he'd grown for the last few days had given him the full Hindu Kush look.
"This is most excellent hashish, Sadiq." He said, Thom's Pashto sounding local, and authentic. He had put practice into it, and smiled, as he inhaled again, laughing.
"I am very glad to hear it, Hussain! It is locally sourced, the money goes straight to local farmers. And those local farmers, they fund us! So I don't blame them at all. It is an excellent deal." Sadiq responded, the man sitting across from Thom with a pipe of his own, inhaling madly. He was a contact of a local Taliban leader, of whom Lancaster and Cavalier were here to take down a notch. English-born Mohamed Hassam was making moves, and it didn't look good. They were here to stop him before he decided that another valley would fall from the Pakistani government, and as radical as the latter was, it was better than having the Taliban around. Him being in Peshawar was perfect, and a snatch and grab was due in progress. The fact that Sadiq probably was affiliated with Hassam was why Lancaster and Cavalier were smoking pipes with him.
"Some more, my guests?" He asked, looking accross the bar, another six people reading books, and inhaling from the herbal pipes, this little place cosy and warm. The carpeted floor and comfortable seats were pleasant, but Thom knew how this would end. They'd get what they needed to know, and before Sadiq knew it, his session would be over indeed.
----
Walking into Drevan's cave of a tech room, he watched the hacker at work, standing in the door.
"You look like a man who needs some Scotch." Martin simply stated, walking inside, watching Drevan at work.
"I need you to keep tracking Hassam, one way or another. Liberty should be giving you eyes soon." Martin said, as he adjusted his bluetooth headset that he pulled from his pocket, putting it on, nodding to Drevan, as the comms link went through. Martin had let Liberty take her role in this operation, knowing full well what Lancaster and Cavalier would do. Cassie knew best when it came to environments like this. Hardline Islamic terrorists in a country where Sharia was the law; Martin would give Liberty the choice in terms of how she would follow her target, without arousing any suspicion, though no doubt it would be unorthofox.
"Liberty, it's Kingmaker. Lancaster and Cavalier are busy at the Hashish establishment talking to Sadiq. We're going to pull what we can from them. Keep following him, don't expose yourself. Remember your role. Find him, find out where he's going, and set up a trap to pull him out of that area, preferably alive." Martin said, as he looked to Drevan, the suited section leader looking firm and secure in his expression.
"Have the UGV ready. If this goes to shit, you need get them backup, fast. Keep monitoring the cell phones too, we might get a snippet of something soon."
