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[COLOR=red][indent][sub][I]Ural Pass, Vlatava[/I] - [I]4 Years Ago[/I][/sub][sup][right]Issue 1.01.03: The Claim[/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][B]Interaction(s):[/B] [I]None[/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][b]Previously:[/b] [I]Issue 1.01.02: [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5157082]Stagecoach[/url][/I][/right][/SUP][/indent][/color]

[color=orange]"Jesus I'm bored. There's nothing out here."[/color]

Roy was resting inside of a small sniper's nest in the stark white landscape. He moved away from the sniper that had been set up. Sitting up in the booth with him was a slightly older man, who simply shook his head in response.

[color=f26522]"You're a good sharpshooter, Roy, but you're a shit sniper."[/color]

Roy raised an eyebrow. [color=orange]"What do you know about being a sniper, Slade? You don't even have any fucking depth perception."[/color] With that, Roy motioned towards the eyepatch covering one of his comrade's eyes.

A small smile grew on Slade's face. [color=f26522]"I don't need depth perception to kick your ass, Roy."[/color]

The two men chuckled for a moment, but within an instant things grew tense. Slade's challenges had become rather notorious in Team 7. Usually there was some sort of wager. And yet, every now and then, the challenges would go unnamed and unspoken. A bet of skill against skill. And as the two men chuckled, their eyes locked and the challenge was made.

Roy, with great speed, reached for the sidearm on his hip. He was only able to unholster the gun when he heard the sound of something impaling the plywood next to his head. Roy's eyes locked with Slade's before he turned his gaze to the knife that impaled the simple plywood wall of the sniper's nest. Terrifyingly close to his head and embedded in the wall was a simple throwing dagger. As Roy went to catch his breath, Slade simply leaned forward in his own seat. [color=f26522]"You'll never be able to take me on, Speedy. Not alone."[/color]

[hr]

[b]"Slade... meet me in the war room."[/b]

Slade Wilson almost looked ridiculous in a suit. His silver buzzed hair and eyepatch made him look far too much like a military tough guy. So, needless to say, Slade jumped at the opportunity to get away from his desk. After all, he always hated being stateside. James Bronson, one of the younger recruits in Team 7, was carrying a stack of folders and a USB as he briskly walked towards the room on the other side of the pit of Team 7 intelligence officers, towards a conference room with floor to ceiling windows.

As soon as James entered the room, he tapped a single button on the light switch, and the conference lights turned on while the windows went from perfectly clear to having a white opaque frost to them. Slade closed the door behind him and leaned against the window, watching his coworker set the files down and slide a USB into a small device in the center of the conference table. He grabbed a small clicker to turn the projector on, and the lights in the room dimmed significantly. The projector always took a moment to boot up, so James started anyways. [b]"Ok... now, I need you to stick with me here, Slade. But you know how we always have someone tailing our discharged operators?"[/b]

[color=f26522]"Of course."[/color]

[b]"Well, the Sparrow lost his tail."[/b]

Slade's body immediately became stiff. His eye widened for a moment, before he was able to regain his composure. [color=f26522]"You're telling me we don't know where Jason is... shit."[/color]

James shook his head. [b]"We don't know exactly... but I've got some leads. Jason was last seen in Tulsa about twenty four hours ago. Coincidentally enough, a blue Toyota Camry was reported stolen yesterday a few blocks away from his last known location. It was found in Ada this morning."[/b] As if on cue, the projector finally booted up and showed three images: a map of Oklahoma with a highway route from Tulsa to Ada highlighted, and the image of a blue Toyota Camry.

[color=f26522]"So he's heading South... Heading for Texas?"[/color]

[b]"I think so... but you're probably wondering why he'd shake a tail to head towards Texas. I might have the answer to that."[/b] 

James pressed the clicker, and the image on the projector changed. There were several images now: the driver's license photos of five men, an [url=https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/proxy/MA7IiJhOIys7fA4Bd1uxN-AqQW4xcXUBsFPrfPOoYHnkVXvEuRc8ryXmzjmhTJqR9gf33_awopvEuW_3jb5yaD-G9DqJbqRKaUT5]image[/url] of an organization's symbol, and a crime scene photo of an arrow. [b]"A few men with connections to the Aryan Nation reported being assaulted by two men a couple hours north of Dallas. One seemed to be a skilled martial artist, while the other was using a bow and arrow. I've had one of our FBI contacts get in touch with the local PD about getting some sketches drawn up... but I've got a good idea of who the second guy is. I mean, who do you know that can knock two arrows and cripple two men's promising flag football careers with a precision shot to the shoulder?"[/b]

Slade stood there silent for a moment before he briskly walked to the door. [color=f26522]"Grab your shit, let's go."[/color]

James tilted his head as he quickly turned off the projector and ripped the USB from the conference table's console. [b]"Where are we going?"[/b]

[color=f26522]"We're reporting this to Lynch now, before they start causing a scene. We don't want people finding out who they are."[/color]