[b]The Triskelion
Washington D.C.
March 20th, 2005
19:33 Local Time[/b]


George Smiley sat in his office and reviewed the incident for the twelfth straight time. The feed was in black and white and unsteady, but he could make out the events that happened clearly enough. The footage played out on George's computer monitor. His office was spartan to the point of being severe. The desk was one of just a few pieces of furniture in the room. There was his chair, two chairs facing the desk, and a large map of the world pinned to the far wall. George looked up from the footage and at the map. Many countries had changed size and name since his retirement, but the shape of the world never changed. In time, he planned to mark locations of SHIELD operations and places of interest on the map. Right now the only mark on the map was a red pin stuck straight into the country of Yemen.

His first official crisis to fix as special consultant to SHIELD: A botched drone strike in the country killed a dozen high-ranking members of the Yemeni military. George's interview with the two agents at the time pointed towards something far worse than incompetence. A two-man team working for Smiley and Smiley alone were busy running back the commands and signals that came to and from the drone up to the time of the incident. Slowly but surely, their work was confirming the agents claims that a hacker took control of the drone moments before the attack was launched.

George rewatched the footage one more time. Again, he noticed the abrupt change in course. Again, he noticed the way the drone fluctuated slightly and swerved out of synch. Whoever was operating was not used to the satellite delay like the SHIELD pilots were. The rest played out like it did the last few times. The two missiles destroyed two of the SUVs in the convoy before crashing into the third. The footage cut out there so George was unable to see the message that followed the crash. Coulson said it was  "THE PRICE FOR FASCISM IS ETERNAL ENSLAVEMENT!
HEIL HYDRA!!!!"

He got up from the desk and walked through the bare office. This whole thing seemed almost surreal to him. Unmanned drones existed back when he ran the Circus, but only for surveillance. In the aftermath of 9/11, some ingenious American had thought to strap weapons to the things and now literal robots delivered death from above to the enemies of the state. George slid his glasses off and wiped them on his tie. He wore a new suit someone had bought for him after his meeting with Fury. It was cheap, but it fit him and was clean and that was all he cared about. He placed his glasses back on his face and walked towards the map, looking at the various nations of the world.

The Soviet Union was gone. He took pride in helping dismantle the KGB and Karla, even though the things he did to achieve that victory broke his own moral code. He used people and then tossed them away when their purpose was achieved. His old boss M was that way, he had marched many a man and woman to their death all for England and the British Empire. George, caught up in his need for revenge, had done to same. Now he was given a new chance, a new enemy who lurked in the shadows like Karla and the KGB. This new war would be just as testing as the old one, but in it he saw a chance for redemption. A chance to get back what Karla had taken from him all those years ago.

George retreated from the map and sat down behind his desk. The gears in his head were turning at a rapid pace now. He would have to wait for results, but a plan of action was forming. He knew what he had to do and what he needed to accomplish it. What he needed was a field agent.