[b]Southern Ural Mountains 0455 Local Time[/b] "Something's not right," Teddy Roosevelt said under his breath. His three-piece suit was gone, swapped out for the khaki Rough Rider's uniform with a the silver eagle of a full Colonel on the collar. He wore his slouch hat with the bill folded on the right. Slung over his shoulder was the massive elephant gun that could take out nearly any creature on the planet, clipped to his belt was a truncheon -- the proverbial big stick. Roosevelt stood in the middle of the small camp set up on the mountain plateau. A soft flurry of snow fell from the sky and coated the ground in the powder. Andrew Jackson, a Colt 1911 in hand and his saber strapped to his belt, checked the shacks in the facility with his squad of six tactical officers, former US special forces and police officers handpicked to be part of the elite work the Executive Branch did. Halfway across the camp, Nixon shuffled through the snow with his hands making arcane gestures. "Have you found anything, Mr. Nixon?" Teddy called to him. "No," Nixon said too quickly. Roosevelt couldn't see it, but Nixon was sweating profusely even in the cold. His enchantments were picking up magic unlike anything he had seen before. It was old and it was powerful, very powerful. There was a hum, ever so soft, and he appeared to be the only one who could hear it. It called to him, it whispered things to him and beckoned him closer. Nixon looked towards the rest of the group before he slowly shuffled further into the camp towards the source of the hum. “What is your science telling us, Dr. Feynman?” Richard Feynman and two scientists in radiation suits combed the area with Geiger counters. “There’s radiation here, albeit very background. UV lights show some kind of… liquid all through the area.” Teddy walked over to the scientist and read their displays. He furrowed his brow as he saw the invisible contrails under the UV light. “What the devil is that, Doctor?” “I don’t know.” Teddy beckoned Jackson and ordered him and his team to slowly follow the trails towards their source. Roosevelt and the tactical squad spread out through the camp, Teddy griping his elephant gun tightly. “Sir,” one of the officers yelled to Jackson. “Contact left!” The tactical officers, Jackson, and Teddy all turned towards the officer. Shuffling in front of him was a man in tattered clothing. Black, inky liquid dripped from the man’s mouth as he approached the young officer. “Get the fuck back!” the young man yelled. In response, the raggedy man belched loudly. A large dollop of the black liquid spewed from his mouth and coated the officer. He screamed and fell backwards, yelling in pain as the liquid coated his chest and face. “Open fire!” Teddy yelled. His elephant gun roared, mingling with the automatic weapons fire of the rest of the unit as they tore into the strange assailant. ------- Nixon heard the sounds of gunfire, but distantly. That hum was now filling his ears. Like a siren song, it guided him through the dig site towards a pit. Nixon could see strange energy pulsating from the hole. His breathed quickened as he approached the source of the power. He looked down into the abyss and felt like he was staring into his soul. A voice whispered in his ear, a dead language that hadn’t been spoken for thousands of years. “My name? I am Richard Milhous Nixon, 37th President of the United States and Archmage of the Trilateral Guild…. Why am I here? I’m here because I know power when I see it. My whole life I’ve craved power, more and more and more. Maybe… maybe we can work out a deal.”