Odds are good you've never heard of Delta Squad. Or if you have, it's from a mainstream military of some sort. That's sort of the point. On official papers, we don't exist. Didn't. That part will make more sense later.
My boss has had me going from Bum Fuck Nowhere, Colorado to Bum Fuck Nowhere, Massachusetts, with a detour to Bum Fuck Nowhere Alaska for good measure since fucking November. And, here's the kicker.
We almost have a bead on that Strahm cockbite and what do we get? Delta Two gets shot right in the face and then some skinny asshole in a suit wipes out Delta One, Three, and Four. I did the smart thing, and performed what's called an “accelerated tactical withdrawal.” Laymen call it “Running the hell away.”
So, regardless, here I am freezing my nuts off in Massachusetts looking for someone using a picture so old my old man probably jacked off on it at least once. Actually, I'm freezing my nuts off in a freezing-cold cell waiting on Fisk to pull strings to get me out. Apparently these people take it serious when you put three bullets from an MP5 into a Coke vending machine when the fucking thing eats your dollar.
But, seriously. How the fuck am I supposed to find some asshole named Strahm with an old picture? It's not like people are liable to talk to an armed guy in a trench coat and gas mask or answer questions.
Well fuck me sideways.