Put this into a Friday evening after work. You all meet uptown, which is in a Valley downtown, in a nice bar. All have an unquestioned, undisputed, known and excepted position. The big earner just promoted with the bonus miles gets his most favorite drink, his former colleague of the same department he was in previously still a bit jet lagged from the flight is happy he made it in time and has a special drink selected to tell us a story and me as always the poor guy, knowing town, speaking the local language yet also perfect English being as international as the others, the daily special two Euros cheaper and the other mate or mates is always changing based on who visits the branch or wants to enjoy a local, but all English evening that for well could be in Lisbon, Miami or London an a business trip.
That was my Corpo Cover waiting for a need of a Provos Social Engeneer as in that tenure to get French Mirage low pass over US soldiers in Niger under fire, dieing because of missing equipment denied by CIA field officers in military uniform.
All this made a joined CIA, BND and MI6 Corpo to organise drug trafficking bearable running all next to my desk.
Fucking me up instead of giving fair pay means that you all will die Narco Service Members when we,just as in the 90ies, crawl up onto the Streets and this time also Floors.
Mission Granted!
Only those in urge feeling the call.
Kill all domestic enemy
Kill all foreign associates
Within all Secret and Policing Services
mission black flag
Military Intelligence and affiliates
I am a Provos Centurion Deadhead Shadowrunner from here on.
