The gentleman before you gently massages the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as you finish speaking. "Well, I'm aware that you were removed from training prematurely, but not
that prematurely... you'll have to suffice, I suppose. In any case, you may call me 'Castle'. I'm the assistant director of operations here at O.G.O.D., and I tend to hand out the briefings and information for the more vital missions that our organisation undertakes. To that end, allow me to begin briefing you on this
urgent matter I'm sure you're all desperate to know about. O.G.O.D. has christened this mission
'Operation: Dirty Skies'."
The lights in the room begin to darken somewhat as Castle subtly flicks a switch underneath the table. A large oil painting behind him suddenly begins to move, rolling downwards into the frame and revealing a blank projector canvas on its reverse side. The projector it requires slides down from the center of the ceiling, completing the ensemble of briefing equipment. Brandishing a small remote control with a single button on top, Castle clears his throat and presses down on the button, causing the projector to whirr into life.
The first picture that shows up is an image of Canada, with a small area in the frozen northern islands of the country circled. "You'll be headed deep into the Canadian Arctic for this operation, agents," begins Castle. "O.G.O.D. has received intelligence that suggests that the notorious Professor Viktorix, formerly thought to be languishing in a KGB cell, has made his escape back into NATO territory." He clicks the button again as he speaks, revealing a grainy mug-shot of a positively diabolical-looking person. His wild hair, thick moustache and the wispy beard drooping from his chin make him look every part the evil genius that you suspect he is. "Viktorix is an accomplished avionics engineer from the DDR who was captured by Soviet authorities a few years ago for performing unauthorised personal research on stolen jet fighters. We're still not sure whether his escape was accomplished by NATO meddling or by private interests, but the reason this matter has attracted O.G.O.D.'s attention is a severe one indeed."
The projector clicks again, displaying an image of what appear to be the blueprints of a very advanced-looking jet fighter. The imposing 'radiation hazard' symbol in the bottom left corner piques your attention. "Viktorix is a ruthless capitalist and a budding nuclear engineer, which I'm sure you can surmise is a dangerous combination," continues Castle. "We only know what he told the KGB about this project you're seeing on screen right now, but he claimed under interrogation that he was attempting to produce a 'stealth fighter' - a plane capable of evading all known forms of detection and depositing a nuclear payload anywhere within its range." You scrutinise the blueprints a little more closely as Castle continues, taking note of how large the scale of the design appears to be - it's certainly not fighter-sized, despite the name. "A fleet of these could wipe out any nation before they knew what hit them, agents, and if Viktorix is active again, we can be certain that this is what he's attempting to work on - alongside countless other bizarre and dangerous aviation projects, we've no doubt. O.G.O.D. are loathe to prevent the ongoing march of technology, but this particular advance - and the man who perpetrated it - represents a severe existential threat to the entire globe if it goes to market. That's what we're here to prevent."
With the final slide of the presentation - a slightly cartoonish image of the globe wreathed in nuclear fire - displayed, Castle sets the remote aside and allows the briefing equipment to once again hide itself, the lights returning to their former harsh glow. "Save your questions, please, agents," he begins again before anyone can interject. "I know what you're about to ask. The question of your equipment for this mission will be answered presently." A small panel of wood on the table before Castle flips over, revealing a collection of buttons and dials. He continues speaking as he presses the largest button, causing a large tube - about large enough to fit a small child inside - to descent from the ceiling. "This, agents, is the O.G.O.D. logistics system." He hands each of you a small punch card as the tube finishes descending. "To prevent espionage and theft, all of our supplies are kept in sealed chambers around the headquarters. We use this ingenious system to requisition them when we need them. It's mostly quite useful, but the interface is a little... hands-off. Simply mark what you require on the punch card - one mark for each field, mind you - and return them to me, and I'll allow the system to provide you your gear. We've quite some advanced technology on our hands here at O.G.O.D., if you happen to receive it..."
You briefly review the punch card in your hands.
O.G.O.D. LOGISTICS SYSTEM
The latest in courier replacement technologies!
Please select up to three of the fields below and mark one option from each field. Clearly mark the card in black ink for best results.
RANGED WEAPONRY
LARGE | MEDIUM | SMALL | CONCEALED
MELEE WEAPONRY
LARGE | SMALL | SPECIALIZED
UTILITY - INFILTRATION DEVICES
LOCKPICK | HACKING | CONCEALANT | MOBILITY
UTILITY - OFFENSIVE DEVICES
KILLING | STUNNING | DISTRACTING