Dr Lerche

Strigoi

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Item#: 7554

Containment Class: safe

Secondary Class: {$secondary-class}

Disruption Class: dark

Risk Class: notice

Special Containment Procedures:

Instances of SCP-7554, along with the original gun it came with, are to be kept in separate locked storage containers at Secure Storage Facility-16. Testing with the object is not to be carried out without the authorisation of the Site Director of SSF-16 and the Head Researcher of SCP-7554.

Description:

SCP-7554 is the collective designation for several rounds of 5.45x39mm ammunition. Save for thin red streaks running from the tip of the bullet to the base, they are otherwise physically identical to 5.45x39mm 7N6 53gr1 ammunition, and can be fired by any 5.45x39mm chambered firearm.

When an instance of SCP-7554 comes into contact with human blood, it will spin until it fully absorbs the blood. As such, upon a human being shot with an instance, it would continue tumbling and spinning within the body, causing massive internal injuries and haemorrhaging until the target is completely exsanguinated.

As of writing, there are 18 SCP-7554 instances in storage.

Discovery:

On 14/3/2004 at 08:45, all extant instances of SCP-7554 were found by police at the scene of a suspected gang shootout in an abandoned warehouse in Manchester, England.

Six men were found dead in the premises, four on the first floor and two on the ground floor. The latter were found one laying prone on the floor while the other slumped next to a fire exit. Dozens of bullet holes were found all around the room where the first four bodies were located. Four of the victims suffered gunshot wounds inconsistent with the bullets recovered, alongside being exsanguinated.

Also found at the scene was an unloaded assault rifle lodged underneath an industrial storage tank. The gun was identified as an AIMS-742, possessing several modifications, such as more modern plastic furniture on the pistol grip and foregrip, as well as a Picatinny rail on the dust cover for optical attachments. Later on, a magazine for the gun containing 26 rounds of SCP-7554 was discarded outside in a trash pile. Despite external damage, the gun was still functional.

Upon being contacted by a mole within the Greater Manchester Police (GMP), the Foundation confiscated the SCP-7554 instances along with the firearm and used bullets.

Addendum 1: Investigation

At 10:00 am, upon investigation, the dead men were identified as members of the Bagnall Syndicate, an organised crime group run by Peter "Big Pete" Bagnall spanning Northwest England. The syndicate has been identified as responsible for multiple armed robberies and drug trafficking in the city, and had recently been subject to an appeal for information by Greater Manchester Police (GMP).

The six dead men were identified as follows:

Barry Keegan, 25

Charlie Black, 22

Bobby Sharp, 24

Declan Mills-Wilkinson, 23

Jake Barker, 19

Nathan "Nets" Ferguson, 22

Further information pertaining to the dead men was provided by Lester Briggs, a police informant within the syndicate. Following Foundation liaison with GMP, the Home Office and MI5, Foundation Agent within MI5— Marcus Brown— made contact directly with the informant.

INTERVIEW LOG

Informant: Lester Briggs

Personnel: Agent Marcus Brown

Time: 10:30 am

[BEGIN LOG]

Briggs: Alright?

Brown: Hello Lester. We need some info.

Briggs: Well, yeah, I guessed that was why you dragged me into this again.

Brown: You're being offered enough, there shouldn't have to be any dragging to get you here. 20 years in the nick is a long time, isn't it?

Briggs: Heh. Whaddya need?

Brown: You heard about the shootout in the warehouse this morning?

Briggs: Hard to miss it.

Brown: Yes. Six dead, Lester, all from the Bagnall outfit. You know anything about them?

Briggs: (Sighs) Oh— they were Pete's dream team. Got a name for themselves robbing jewellers like it was nothing. A bloody wolf pack. Pete took notice and began sending them on bigger jobs.

Brown: Bigger jobs?

Briggs: You know. Contract killings. Hits. Enforcement. That kind of stuff.

Brown: Right. Wet work. How long for?

Briggs: Three years, I think? The blokes became hot shit almost overnight.

Brown: Really?

Briggs: Yeah, but they were just a bunch of reckless bastards in my humble opinion. Began getting cocky with all that new clout.

Brown: It gets to ya, man.

Briggs: Yeah sure, but Pete didn't give a fuck. As long as they did the job. You know what that lead to, eh?

Brown: You talking about Connelly?

Briggs: Course I'm talking about fucking Connelly! Fuck, six Bagnall men dead – and he asks me if I’m talking about Connelly. They didn’t teach you much at police school, did they, Sir?

Brown: I could do without the lip, Lester. What happened?

Briggs: Now look. That's all I know at the moment. I'll get back to ya. Also, with you being my new handler for today, I want to make myself clear to you guys.

Brown: Continue.

Briggs: I want a new life. You hear me? Other side of the country. Scotland, Wales, London, I don't care. It's been a bloody two years. I'll give you this, and then I want out.

Brown: I hear you.

Briggs: Fantastic! I'll call you back.

[END LOG]

Addendum 1.1: The Murder of Harris Connelly

The day prior to the warehouse shootout, on 13/3/2004 at 8:00pm, a hit squad from the Bagnall Syndicate attacked a guesthouse in Stockport revealed to be a hideout of the Connelly Firm, a major rival to the Bagnall Syndicate vying for control of Manchester. The target was the organisation's leader, Harris Connelly. Despite killing 4 people, including a Connelly Firm lieutenant, Connelly himself managed to escape the scene. Forensics reports show that the injuries sustained on some of the bodies were identical to those found in the warehouse shootout.

The target was then seen again in central Stockport. The following is a transcript of what occurred.

VIDEO LOG

DATE: 13/3/2004

NOTE: Timeline was reconstructed from CCTV footage acquired from various businesses in the town centre, including the Golden Dove Inn & Café, on Fritz Row.

[BEGIN LOG]

20:27: Connelly is seen running in the streets then discards his bloodstained coat into a dumpster. He stops and looks around, before turning towards the Golden Dove. Concealing his gun, he appears to straighten himself before briskly walking to the establishment.

20:28: Connelly enters the café, and walks towards an empty table in the back. He passes by some patrons, some of whom greet him. He sits at the table as a waiter comes over. He is given a menu, from which he orders something, showing the menu towards the waiter. The waiter gives him a nod and retrieves the menu before going to the kitchen. Connelly watches the exit as well as the rest of his surroundings.

20:30: Connelly is seen pulling out a phone from his trouser pocket and making a call. Connelly ends the call after 20 seconds. He appears calmer.

20:33: A coffee is served at the table. Connelly begins drinking.

20:34: After sometime, the manager walks past. The two share a nod.

20:45: A black SUV parks in front of the café. Four masked men exit the vehicle. The manager is seen coming out of the restaurant towards the men. What appears to be an argument ensues.

20:46: As this happens, a beige sedan3 stops adjacent to the establishment. Two more masked men exit the passenger seats and begin walking towards the commotion.

20:47: The men from the black SUV turn back to the car as the manager watches. Suddenly, one of them turns back and punches the manager in the face. The two from the sedan stop in the middle of the street. The others quickly pull out their guns and motion to the two, who do the same. The gunmen rush into the café, opening fire. Connelly attempts to flee but is spotted and gunned down while patrons, staff, and pedestrians are seen scrambling away from the scene.

20:48: The gunmen are seen roaming the building; two are seen stealing money from the cash register. The manager is lying outside motionless.

20:49: The assailants leave the scene.

[END LOG]

Based on this log and the statement of Mr. Briggs, a seventh member of the hit squad was identified, namely the driver of the beige sedan. Due to the quality of the footage, neither the driver nor the number plate could be discerned. Investigation is underway.

Addendum 2:

At 1:15pm, police found the beige sedan near a construction site. Security camera footage captured a man coming back to the car, retrieving something and leaving. He was then tracked to a corner shop where his face was much clearer and identified as 21-year-old Oliver Scott. The suspect has not been seen since then and it has been confirmed he has not returned to his residence. The investigation team contacted Mr. Briggs again for information.

CALL LOG

Informant: Lester Briggs

Personnel: Agent Marcus Brown

[BEGIN LOG]

Briggs: Greetings, your highness. Whaddya need?

Brown: Need info on a guy. Oliver Scott. Age 21. Ginger hair.

Briggs: Wh— Oli? What you need him for?

Brown: He's one of the hit squad.

Briggs: Bollocks. Him? He's not cut out for that.

Brown: We’ve watched footage of him driving them to the hideout, then to the café, then to some warehouse where we found the car abandoned.

Briggs: …

Brown: Lester? You there, mate?

Briggs: Y— Yeah, I’m here. Just… doesn't make sense. He's not the vicious type, you get me? And why would you need someone that green with those guys on that kind of job? I mean lad's a solid driver but we have a few. (Mutters.) Bloody hell.

Brown: (Pauses.) Well… I will say. He didn't kill anyone. Just stayed in the car when everything went down.

Briggs: Huh. Knew it.

Brown: But right now, Oli is missing. We checked his house. He didn't come home. He could be in danger.

Briggs: Look… I really don't know where he is.

Brown: Lester. You have to trust me.

Briggs: (Pauses.) But… I might know where he might go.

Brown: Where?

Briggs: He has an uncle in Stockport. Used to speak about him to me. Only a few people know about it. St Saviour's Road, near the church. Not sure the house but I'm sure as shit it's there.

Brown: Got it. I'll go get him with my partner. Thanks.

Briggs: Sure thing. One thing though. Could ya do me a favour?

Brown: What?

Briggs: (Pause) Don't go hard on him. He's just a kid.

Brown: They were all young, Lester.

Briggs: Yeah but they were fucking psychos. That lad's not.

[END LOG]

Addendum 3:

At 2:03pm, with the information provided, Agent Douglas Clarke and his partner, Agent Brown, drove to the location.

VIDEO LOG

Personnel: Agent Douglas Clarke, Agent Marcus Brown

Foreword: Foreword: Both personnel wore body-mounted hidden cameras.

[BEGIN LOG]

(Agent Clarke is seen driving the car with Agent Brown in the front passenger seat. They are driving along Buxton Rd nearing St Saviour's Rd. The stop at a traffic light.)

Brown: Almost there. We get him and ask about the gun. Remember, go easy on him.

Clarke: Marc, it's the third time you've said it so far. I get it, relax.

Brown: Sorry, chief. You're an imposing figure.

Clarke: Yeah I need to be. Dealing with these guys.

Brown: Yeah, but we're, uh— you're not a cop. We need to handle this a bit more subtly.

Clarke: Subtle? Boy, I introduced you to subtlety. Five months ago, we would be called the Men In Black with how you dug into suspects.

Brown: Well, yeah.

Clarke: Exactly! So relax. I know how to shift gears. (Pauses.) Are you worried? Your kid could be strapped.

Brown: I doubt it. Kid loves his uncle. Uncle is a regular guy. No previous criminal record. Wouldn't want to threaten all that having an illegal firearm with him. Besides, he goes so far to want to keep him safe with all the secrecy about their relations.

Clarke: That's why he opened up to "Loudmouth" Lester?

Brown: Loud to us, Doug.

(The traffic light turns green.)

Brown: Light's green. Go.

(They turn left.)

Brown: Map says go straight then take a left.

Clarke: Got it. Church should be somewhere aro— Whoa! Whoa! (Hits Brown's shoulder.) Marc.

(Clarke points to his right. Brown looks up and follows the direction.)

Brown: That's him! That's him!

Clarke: I'll flank!

(Agent Brown quickly gets out of the car. Footage shows him running towards an alleyway. The suspect, Oliver Scott, is being stabbed by a masked man.)

Brown: ARMED POLICE! HANDS UP!

(The figure turns to spot Brown.)

Assailant: Fuck me.

(He quickly slashes at Scott's throat before dashing down the alley.)

Brown: STOP! (Moves to the suspect on the floor.) Oh shit. Shit. Oli, Oli! It's alright, lad. Stay with me.

(Brown is seen trying to stop the bleeding. The suspect tries to speak, but his words are indiscernible. He pulls out his radio.)

Brown: Doug! He's running down the alley! Stop him!

Clarke: On it!

(Footage from the car's dashcam shows the car reversing quickly. Clarke then drives the car down the road and makes a turn to the road at the other end of the alley. The assailant emerges from the alley. He notices the car and runs. Clarke drives past and quickly turns the car in his path before abruptly breaking. A thud is heard on the side of the car followed by scuffing sounds on gravel.)

(Agent Brown's footage shows him running down and out of the alley. The assailant is getting up from the ground. He sees Brown and tries to pick up the knife he dropped. Brown draws his pistol.)

Brown: Don't even think about it.

(The man quickly stops and staggers. He stands up straight with his hands in the air. Agent Clarke exits the car and approaches him from behind. After a short struggle, Clarke handcuffs him and pins him against the alley wall to search him.)

Clarke: You alright?

Brown: (Panting.) Never better.

Clarke: And Scott?

Brown: He's dead.

Clarke: Dammit. (To assailant.) Come here, you son of a bitch.

Assailant: Ow! Ow! It hurts. Come on!

(Clarke put the assailant in their car. Clarke picks up a water bottle.)

Clarke: Hey.

(Brown stops and looks at Clarke.)

Clarke: (Gestures to his bloody hands.) Get cleaned up.

(He tosses the bottle to Brown who starts washing his hands before taking a sip. Clarke enters the backseat with the assailant. Once done, Brown enters the front passengers seat.)

Clarke: Alright.

(He pulls off the mask, revealing a young white male.)

Brown: Answer us. Why'd you kill him?

Assailant: I— I was just paid to kill him. Don't know nothin else!

(Agent Clarke moves the arm across the assailant's shoulder closer to him.

Clarke: Really? The way you were going at him. Seems pretty personal to me.

(Agent Clarke tightens his arm.)

Assailant: (Choking) Fu— Fffu— Fuckin. Okay! Okay! He deserved it!

(Agent Clarke loosens his arm.)

Brown: What do you mean?

Assailant: He's one of the cocksuckers who killed Connelly. Boss gave orders to off him.

Brown: How did you find him?

Assailant: Find him? Boss said the address. Stupid fuck thought he could get away hiding in his uncle's house.

Brown: Who's your boss?

Assailant: (Mumbles.)

Clarke: Can't hea-

(Sirens are heard as police cars making the turn towards them.)

Assailant: Can't say no more, fuzz. Sorry.

Brown: Dammit. Never mind, leave him. We’ll deal with this later. Call the Site and get the Liaison team on this, I don’t want the police asking too many questions about us.

[END LOG]

The assailant was handed over to the police. Upon further interrogation, the Foundation learnt that the assassin, 24-year-old Craig Collins, was a member of the Connelly firm. He was sent to assassinate Scott after the address was provided to the firm. The identity of this informant is unknown.

Addendum 4:

At 4:10pm, the investigation team was later contacted by Briggs to arrange a meeting. The meeting was set up at an underpass.

MEETING LOG

Personnel: Agent Douglas Clarke, Agent Marcus Brown

Foreword: The personnel wore hidden cameras to record the meeting.

(The agents park their car and wait.)

Clarke: I'm not so sure about this guy, Mark.

Brown: Doug, I know this guy. He does his job. He's been feeding police for close to two years now, on all sorts of things.

Clarke: Yeah, and but has GMP been keeping him fed enough. Having him on their leash for two years with the Syndicate.

Brown: That's… (Sighs.) That's not important now. We need this info. He's the only one who's giving it.

Clarke: Here he comes.

(Briggs is seen walking towards the vehicle. The agents step out of the car. The men exchange nods.)

Briggs: Hello officer. And who are you?

Brown: This is Detective Clarke. My partner.

Briggs: Well you look like a tough guy, don't ya?

(Briggs stays quiet and stares at the men. The agents look at each other and stare back. Briggs sighs.)

Briggs: Heh…there's an art exhibit nearby in need of some statues. (Mutters.) Bunch of damn stones. But anyway. I've got some info.

Brown: Do tell.

Briggs: We found out that Harris would be visiting an old friend in Stockport that day at around 7:45pm. Pete tasked the team with the hit. Apparently, he acquired a damn machine gun just for the task. Gave it to Barry cause he was the alpha.

Clarke: Where'd he get it from?

Briggs: Don't know. I just was there to see him give it to them. Probably some black market contact. I can try to dig up some stuff, though with it being upper level shit, I would like some confirmation on my exit.

Clarke: We're making the arrangement—

Briggs: Out of the country.

Clarke: Pardon?

Briggs: England's too hot. I'll need to be somewhere else to get out of this shit. That or no deal.

Clarke: Mr. Briggs let me mak—

(Agent Brown quickly places his hand on Agent Clarke's shoulder.)

Brown: Detective Clarke. (Turns to Briggs.) We'll figure something out, meanwhile you do your thing. Now, about that safehouse?

Briggs: So they go and storm the building. Whatever that gun fired…damn.

Brown: What do you mean?

Briggs: Those were not normal bullets. Fuck me. Looked like an abattoir. But I digress. So about being reckless wankers, they kill everyone there but the fucker they were supposed to kill who runs off. The tossers realised and had to give chase.

Clarke: But then they managed to kill Connelly. At the café.

Briggs: Yeah, it was a bloodbath! But we got him.

Clarke: (Sighs.) Alright, mate. We know this already. What's new?

Briggs: Oh! Then I guess you're a know it all, eh?

Brown: Actually, yes. We do know some things. Like that the Connelly Firm also knew about Oliver's whereabouts. The secret you kept.

Briggs: I—

Brown: In fact, they apparently knew the exact house he was in. Something we clearly needed to know.

Clarke: Detective—

Brown: And if we did know, I might had not had to try and stop a kid from bleeding out. (Walks forward.) Do you know what 12 stabs wounds to the gut and neck looks like, Mr. Briggs?

Briggs: Of course I fucking do. You know what I do for a living. But it's not what you think.

Clarke: Maybe it is, Mr. Briggs. Maybe our offer wasn't persuasive enough. You got cold feet and thought the Connelly firm might give you more protection.

Briggs: It's not—

Clarke: Or maybe you had a good few rounds at the bar and let the cat out of the bag to your drinking buddies.

Brown: Either way, a potential witness is dead. So do tell us, Mr. Briggs. How did the information ge-

Briggs: COULD YOU FUCKING LISTEN?! I HAVE MORE FUCKING INFO!

(Silence.)

Briggs: (Coughs.) I really do. Please…I—I might have found out something.

Brown: (Pauses.) We're listening.

Briggs: See… When I told ya about what Oli told me about his uncle, I left out… a detail. I may have said a bit too much that may have been overheard by one person.

Brown: (Groans.)

Clarke: (Mutters.) I fucking knew it.

Brown: Mr. Briggs, you do realise that's against our agreement?

Briggs: Yeah— yeah, but it felt too stupid to mention. It wouldn't make sense.

Brown: Lester! Just say it. Who heard you?

Briggs: (Pauses.) Big Pete.

Clarke: Excuse me?

Brown: So… you're thinking that?

Briggs: (Nods.) Yeah. He easily would have started digging with that.

Clarke: But why would he assist his bloody rivals?

Briggs: I have more.

(He looks around again.)

Briggs: You got a ciggie?

(Agent Brown hands over a cigarette and light.)

Briggs: Heh…not gonna do the honours? Alright.

(Briggs lights the cigarette and takes a few puffs.)

Briggs: I mean, everyone in the Syndicate wanted that bastard Connelly dead. But the strange thing was… Pete didn't seem too pleased. I mean of all people.

Brown: Peter was mad?

Briggs: Yeah! Now you see… (Takes a puff)… we were at our boozer that night and Pete got news that the hit was a success. Now the lads and I were celebrating, but I could tell, he wasn't that happy. He ordered drinks for everyone there then left to a backroom with a few of his men.

Brown: Continue.

Briggs: I happened to be sitting nearby, so I did a little eavesdropping. I couldn't hear it that well with all the noise, but I did hear enough…cunts and what not… to know he was bloody livid. I think he was on a call with Barry. He then cut the call then began discussing something with the other guys in there.

Brown: What were they talking about?

Briggs: Well… I(Takes a puff.)… couldn't hear the next parts. Keith had one too many beers and decided to start a choir in the bar.

Clarke: Mr. Briggs, if you are withholding information again-

Briggs: I'm not fibbing. I swear on me mum! I really couldn't hear. Look! I'm putting my neck out for this, alright! If I was caught, I'm dead — they'd probably riddle me with that gun of his.

Brown: Alright! Alright. We trust you. Cool mate.

Briggs: (Smokes for a while.) So I then heard him I think call back. Still was muffled but he seemed to be talking more calmly. Finally, they all shut up and I heard it more clearly. Apparently he was halfway through an address and ordered the guy to meet him there…

(Pauses for a while and takes another puff.)

Briggs: That was that warehouse, wasn't it?

(The agents remain silent for a moment, sharing looks with each other.)

Brown: With your info. Possibly, but we can't-

Briggs: Jesus fucking Christ! He actually offed them all…(Takes several puffs in quick succession while tapping his foot.) Well, to be fair, they weren't-

Brown: Again we can't confirm. We are still investigating.

Briggs: Not sure why he had to do all this? The six were reckless cunts, and they shot him in the Dove, but…so what? The bas-

Clarke: Wait…The Dove?

Briggs: Yeah, th-The Golden Dove. Local café here. You must have seen the plac-

Clarke: Yes, we know. What about it?

Briggs: Well, we all went to the Dove. Lovely place. Been around for years! Everyone, even rivals, would sit in there and drink. No violence at all. It was like a… how do I say this… place of mutual understanding. We don't do our shit in there, we all just come to have some fuckin delicious food and coffee, watch the matches. So yeah, maybe doing that shit there was a bit shocking to everyone, like killing someone on the loo, but we're used to dirty stuff.

Brown: Lester…what are you trying to say?

Briggs: So for someone like motherfucking Peter Bagnall to lose his shit and fucking snitch over them trashing our local coffee shop is a little odd, innit?

(Briggs throws the cigarette on the ground and steps on it.)

Briggs: Well boys, I have to skedaddle. Waiting on you.

Brown: Welcome. Thanks for the info.

Briggs: Hehe. Yes, Sir.

(The men begin to leave when Briggs stops and turns.)

Briggs: Oh yeah, one more thing.

Brown: Uh huh?

Briggs: During the phone call, I heard him make something very clear.

Brown: What was it?

Briggs: He told them to bring that fucking gun and whatever came with it.

Addendum 5:

At 6:10pm, personnel staking out Big Pete's residence recorded him calling someone on the telephone via a parabolic microphone.

AUDIO LOG

DATE: 13/3/2004

[BEGIN LOG]

Big Pete: (Clears throat.) Hello. This is Mr. Bagnall.

Receiver: [Inaudible.]4

Big Pete: As you've probably already heard, I've dealt with the offenders. I believe we will have no more issues. Are we clear?

Receiver: [Inaudible.]

Big Pete: The gun? That… that was ditched. They won't get shit from it anyway.

Receiver: [Inaudible.]

(As the receiver speaks, Big Pete starts to become visibly distressed)

Big Pete: I beg your pardon?

Receiver: [Inaudible.]

Big Pete: Wh— They're already dead!

Receiver: [Inaudible.]

Big Pete: I told them to only kill Connelly. I didn't know the dumb fucks would kill him in there. I had no fucking idea! It was a colossal fuck up! But now they're dead.

Receiver: [Inaudible.]

Big Pete: No-no-no, you listen here, you! I had nothing do to with it. Nothing!

Receiver: [Inaudible.]

Big Pete: Hello?— Hello?!— Why aren't you saying anything!?

Receiver: [Inaudible.]

Big Pete: (Gulps.) Why aren't you saying anything?…

Receiver: [Inaudible.]

(The call is cut from the other side. Big Pete sits silently at the table, visibly distraught. After approximately 5 minutes, he takes out a cigarette and begins to smoke. He then makes another call.)

Big Pete: Hello? Gloria.

(The receiver is identified as Peter's wife, Gloria Bagnall.)

Gloria: [Inaudible.]

Big Pete: Hey love, I— I was thinking…you deserve a break. Why don't you take the kids your mum's house, would ya?

Gloria: [Inaudible.]

Big Pete: Nah, I just thought… a holiday would sound nice.

Gloria: [Inaudible.]

Big Pete: Me? Uh— I'll be busy with some stuff. Sorry.

Gloria: [Inaudible.]

(Pete is seen clutching the table.)

Big Pete: One day, Glori. One-One day… We'll all be together. Maybe a nice spot at that beach you've always wanted to go.

Gloria: [Inaudible.]

Big Pete: Good. Good. Hey babe?

Gloria: [Inaudible.]

Big Pete: I love you… I always did since first day I met ya. And I love me boys.

(There is a long silence.)

Gloria: [Inaudible.]

Big Pete: Goodbye.

(There is another pause.)

Gloria: [Inaudible.]

(Pete cuts the call and is seen sobbing silently at the table.)

[END LOG]

20 minutes after the call, a fire breaks out in Bagnall's house, killing him. Cause of the fire appeared to be a gas leak. Foul play was suspected but remains unproven. The investigation into SCP-7554 will be transferred up to ETTRA5.

Addendum 6: 15/4/2004.

In the month following the death of its leader, the Bagnall Syndicate faced attacks from rivals and economic decline. Assets were assimilated by said rivals and members either joined, went off the grid, or were killed.

Shortly after the events above, Lester Briggs ceased to respond to contact from his handlers. Despite repeated unauthorised attempts by Agent Brown to contact him, Lester Briggs has not been found and is considered MIA.

Footnotes

1. Grain. Bullet mass. (3.43g).

2. The export name of the PA md. 86, a Romanian clone of the Soviet AK-74.

3. Beige Ford Focus. License plate number BD53 LUJ. The vehicle was reported stolen two months ago.

4. Due to the the receiver's side being too garbled to be discernible, only Pete's side of the conversation was recordable.

5. Emergent Threat Tactical Response Authority. Department which specializes in identifying threats and responding to them before or right as they become an issue.