[b]John Smith
Somewhere in Syria[/b]

There was a certain level of finesse that went into running a worldwide organization bent on the destruction of the current order. Smith was the absolute commander of an army consisting of thousands of Arms Users with weapons and vehicles, two major cities and a large swath of the Middle East as well as millions of dollars scattered across the globe in secret accounts and stashes. It was no mean feat managing it all. Shipments of Type 56 rifles from Cambodia, surplus LAW rockets stolen and sold by leftist and rightist factions in South America, an influx of foreign volunteers to train and equip, Soviet era tanks to station at hidden outposts, a horde of mind controlled double agents to put to use scrounging up information and assassinating threats...

Things every leader had to deal with.

Luckily for him his underlings were mostly competent. Amaterasu and Abbadon were both out preparing for the initial invasion, brother and sister setting up some nasty surprises for the Symbiosis bastards. He could also draw on the support on a intelligent and loyal officer corp, dedicated men and women who could lead with the perfect mixture of respect and fear from their troops. One of them was in the perfect position to deal with a couple of problems for him. The dignified man scribbled down a note and handed it off to one of the many junior officers and guards scattered about the makeshift office.

A few minutes later Carmilla's radio buzzed to life, a curt female voice detailing the errands that needed to be ran. [color=green]"Orders from HQ. You're given the choice as to which one you'd prefer to handle, as long as you do so in a timely manner. You can take ten men with you, please send the remainder back to base. As always efficiency is valued, and failure will reflect poorly on you."[/color] It was the standard polite warning: fuck up too many times or even look like you're a threat to the security of the Hammers and you will be dealt with violently.

[color=green]"The first errand involves a DFS armory holding a variety of small arms as well as explosives and anti-vehicle weaponry. Obviously this material is better off in our hands. You will go to the coordinates sent and'persuade' the militia there to hand over there supplies on pain of death.

"The second option is a one person job. Dr. Leslie Black, general practitioner from Sydney and advocate for healthcare initiatives in impoverished areas, has recently stumbled into business she should keep out of. During one of her visits to the outskirts of Hama to distribute medical supplies and do check ups one of her young patients let slip his father's involvement in our organization. She and an armed guard are currently driving back to Rasafeh, where she might let someone know about what she learned. You will stop her vehicle and take her, alive, to a drop off point."

"So take your pick and good luck. HQ out."[/color]

The radio call dies out in a crackle of static, leaving the agent with her choice.