To all units operating in west coast of the United States, this is a PRIORITY ONE order issued from CENTCOM.
There is evidence to suggest that two Keter-level targets, codenamed “Toto” and “Dorothy”, are currently operating in the Southern California area. Though the reasons for their presence there are not exactly clear, being able to operate in a densely populated area would certainly appeal to “Dorothy”, based on previous records of her behavior.
Since “Toto” is classified as a Class One combat threat, field agents are authorized to use full combat loadouts. However, it is highly recommended that agents avoid direct confrontation of the targets, since all previous attempts at containing them have ended with failure and heavy casualties (please see attached post-action reports for full details). All agents are to immediately report the targets' coordinates once found. Agent Spoon, Agent Pitchfork, and a Mobile Task Force are airborne and ready to drop at a moment's notice.
Intelligence has also suggested that elements of the Chaos Insurgency may also be involved. It is also no secret that the FBI's Unusual Incidences Unit is currently investigating the case, though Intelligence suggests they have no idea what they're tracking. Chaos Insurgency agents are to be terminated on sight while UIU agents are to be detained or avoided if possible.
Godspeed, and watch out for “Toto's” lasers.
- O5-█

Leo sighed as he walked into the office for work. By far, this was the worst time of the day, as whenever he walked in, he drew the stares, sneers, and snickers from the staff as most of them were coming in to work as well. It was well known that he was part of the Unusual Incidences Unit, and it was very well known that UIU was considered the lowest rung of the entire department. Leo had originally joined the FBI because he wanted to make a difference, but now he spent his days toiling away in the basement of the Los Angeles FBI Field Office. However, he had no idea what he did or who he angered to get himself into this mess.

Name: Leonardo “Leo” James Carter
Age: 25
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 5' 11''
Profile: Originally joined the FBI under the pretense of “making a difference”. However, due to political machinations within the department, Special Agent Carter has been assigned to the Los Angeles branch of the UIU. He so far has had zero contact with any SCP, but has proven to remain calm and focused during times of great stress. Fairly inexperienced in field work, but this is mostly due to the nature of his position rather than any fault of his own.
Recruitment Potential: Promising. Special Agent Carter displays all of the necessary qualities needed for a Foundation field agent. However, his inexperience in dealing with SCPs may prove to be a temporary handicap.

Making sure nobody was looking, Leo quietly opened the door that led to the building's basement and shuffled inside. Down the depths of the field office lay the UIU office, if you could even call it that. The office used to be part of Archives, until the transition to digital media allowed the department to dump most of their paper files. UIU was shoved into the extra space as almost an afterthought, and it definitely showed. It was a small, barely lit room with absolutely no climate control and almost perpetually choked with dust. Besides himself, Leo also worked with two other Special Agents, Richtoff and Wellings.
“I see you've brought your own coffee again.” Richtoff mused as Leo sat at his desk. “No appreciation for our fine UIU homebrew?”
“I would if it were even vaguely coffee, sir.” Leo shook his head. “Not just colored, slightly bitter water.”
Richtoff was a good natured and kind old man, but even he had to know that he was now running an ailing division that the department never even wanted in the first place. The only reason why UIU existed at all was due to the order of some crazy, reactionary Representative. The Director was unhappy about creating what was, in his mind, a huge money and manpower sink while the Criminal, Counterterrorist, Cybercrime, and Intelligence Divisions saw UIU as extra competition. As a result, UIU had absolutely zero budget or influence within the department and served as a way to get rid of unwanted staff. It was so bad, most considered transfer or “promotion” to UIU to be punishment detail.
“Well, it's either that watered down stuff, or we can get about two months of normal coffee before we run out and have to wait for the department to write up the next budget.” Richtoff said.

Name: Alexander Moriarty Richtoff
Age: 56
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 6' 1''
Profile: An FBI veteran for over thirty years, Special Agent Richtoff possesses vast knowledge and experience on the inner workings of the FBI. However, due to his refusal or inability to play department politics, Special Agent Richtoff has never been seriously considered for promotion, even though his credentials are more than enough to make him a division chief or even an assistant director. Likewise, his refusal to leave the FBI has resulted in his transfer to UIU in the hopes that it will hasten his retirement, as well as eliminate his influence within the department.
Recruitment Potential: Low. Due to his age, Special Agent Richtoff is too old for effective fieldwork, and his skepticism about paranormal activity is not conducive to employment within the Foundation. However, there are other alternatives to outright recruitment that may benefit the Foundation.

“By the way, where's Sam?” Leo looked around the dimly lit office but could find no trace of his partner. That was odd, since she almost always arrived at the office early.
“I think she's out on a case.” Richtoff sighed. “She thinks she's finally got a lead on that magic coffee machine.”
“That's totally stupid.” Leo shook his head. “Then again, she's the only one here that takes her job seriously.”

Name: Samantha “Sam” Breton Wellings
Age: 24
Hair Color: Blond
Eye Color: Green
Height: 5'8
Profile: Special Agent Wellings is somewhat of a far cry from regular FBI agents, the type that would fit perfectly in the UIU. Actually, she is one of the few who had actually volunteered for the position. Is a genuine believer in the paranormal, yet not to the extent seen in most other UIU agents of her kind. Though her actual fieldwork skills are questionable (her current duties are insufficient to accurately gauge her abilities), there is no denying that she has the enthusiasm that seems to be lacking in our own field agents these days.
Recruitment Potential: Promising. Special Agent Wellings is clearly enthusiastic about her work, which would make it relatively simple for her to adjust to the Foundation's unique job description. Also, her near discovery of SCP-294 should be testament to her dedication.

Sam exited the curio shop, dejected but not discouraged. Apparently, the coffee machine she was looking for had already been sold. She had tried to press for more information, but like always, the buyer had to pay in cash, making him all but untraceable. It looked like she would have to wait another day. As she made her way back to her car, a pair of burly suits rudely shoved her aside.
“Hey! You can at least watch where you're going!” Sam said angrily.
Both men turned and glared at her, making her cringe and step back. Even though she was FBI, Sam was still, at best, a junior agent, so she was still fairly easy to intimidate. Fortunately, both men quickly lost interest in her and filed in the shop she had just exited. She was about to follow them to see just what they were up to when her cell phone rang.
“What do you want, Chief?” Sam asked when she saw Richtoff's caller ID.
“To get yourself, and more importantly, the car back to the office!” Richtoff yelled angrily. “Unlike what the other divisions might think, we actually have cases to investigate! And unlike the other divisions, we only have that one car!”
“Oh come on, Chief!” Sam sighed. “You know just as well as I do that all the crap we get are the cases the other divisions don't want to bother with!”
“Just get back here already!” Richtoff said, exasperated. “Our workload is bad enough without you going rogue on me!”
At this point, Sam knew that if she gave in to Richtoff's demands now, she'd concede victory to her boss. However, if she could stall for another half hour or so, it would be a small victory for underappreciated, overworked FBI agents everywhere.
“Alright, I'll be back, but I'm not sure when.” Sam replied. “The 5 Freeway's clogged with Chinese tourists trying to get to Disneyland again.”
“Alright, just-“
Suddenly, there was shouting coming from the curio shop Sam had been investigating. She glanced through the window and caught sight of the two burly men from earlier harassing the shop owner. At first glance, it looked as if they were engaged in some aggressive haggling, but it didn't take long for Sam to notice that both men had the shop owner at gunpoint.
“Wellings, what's going on?!”
Sam realized that she had forgotten to turn off her phone, but there was no time for that now. She burst into the shop, gun drawn, and yelled, “FBI! Put your weapons down!”
Most of the time, when confronted by any kind of law enforcement, much less the FBI, most suspects surrendered without a fight, or at least decided that running was a better option than fighting. It was then understandable when Sam was caught off guard when the two burly men turned around and fired on her without hesitation. Sam shrieked and took cover behind a store shelf. Meanwhile, the store clerk took the chance to bolt out of the back door.
“Wellings? Wellings!” Ricthoff's voice shouted, barely audible over the sound of gunfire.
“Shots fired shots fired!” Sam said in a panicked voice.

“What happened?” Leo asked when he saw Richtoff scramble for the stairs.
“Trouble! Bring your sidearm and your vest!”
The two agents bolted from the basement office and toward the garage where the department vehicles were kept. Many people looked on curiously, as they had never seen UIU agents move with such speed and urgency.
“Sir! We've got trouble! One of our agents is under fire!” Richtoff yelled through his phone, which was connected to Assistant Director Horner's office. “We need backup at her location!”
“I'm sorry, Special Agent Richtoff, but we've got no agents in the area and our resources are spread thin enough as it is.” Horner said in a cold, infuriatingly clinical manner. “I'm afraid we'll have to leave the matter to local law enforcement.”
“Bullshit.” Richtoff muttered to himself as he hung up his phone. Horner probably saw this as a cheap, trouble-free way of getting rid of an undesired agent. Then again, the Assistant Director never really cared about UIU in the first place, so why should he care now?
“I assume we're in this alone, then?” Leo asked. “How're we supposed to get there when our only car is at the scene?”
“Watch.” Richtoff sprinted into the garage toward Agents Miller and Jennings. They were probably going out on another goddamn donut run.
“Hey, it's those X-Files geeks.” Miller jeered as he saw Richtoff and Leo approach. “What's the matter, somebody saw a UF-“
Miller never had a chance to finish his sentence. Richtoff knocked the agent out cold with a solid right hook. The senior agent then snatched Miller's keys and tossed them to Leo.
“You drive.”
“What the hell!” Jennings was shocked at what he just witnessed. “Why'd you-“
“If you don't want to end up like your partner, I'd suggest you shut up and stay out of my way!” Richtoff scowled.
Jennings squealed like a newborn pig and dashed for cover. Leo and Richtoff ignored him and commandeered their recently acquired sedan. With siren and lights blaring, the FBI vehicle roared out of the garage with a vengeance, sending both agents and civilians scrambling for cover.

Sam didn't have to be a genius to realize that she was in a dire predicament. She was outnumbered and pinned down, and besides basic firearm training, she had never fired her sidearm in her life. She leaned out to get a look at her attackers, and hopefully get a few shots off at them. However, when she leaned out, she could only see one of the burly men.
“Where'd the other one go-“ Sam muttered to herself a split second before she heard a gun cock. She turned to see the second burly man standing behind her. “Shit.”
The next few seconds were a blur. There were three bright bangs and flashes, and Sam suddenly found herself lying in a pool of her own blood. Her shirt was completely stained with blood from the three bullet holes in her chest, but fortunately or unfortunately, all three bullets had missed her heart, leaving her to linger on the ground in excruciating pain. She looked up, and even though her eyes were quickly losing focus from blood loss, she could see the silhouettes of the two burly men standing over her. Sam looked on helplessly as burly man one bent down and pulled out her ID.
“Is she one of those Foundation spooks tailing us?” Burly man two asked.
“Nah, just some dumb cop.” Burly man one casually tossed the ID away. “She's no use to us. Waste her.”
Lying there on the ground dying, most people would have felt fear or regret, but Sam felt something bubbling inside her, an emotion she didn't feel very often. Anger. It was so unfair, that she would die here, without knowing anything at all. If only, if only…
If only she had the power to control her fate.
There were two more shots, but there was something different about them. Sam distantly remembered that the two shots sounded more as if they had come from a high caliber sniper rifle rather than a pistol. She then realized that she was still alive and opened her eyes. Her vision was still blurry, but she could see two silhouettes standing above her, and they definitely weren't the burly men.
“Excellent marksmanship as always, Forky,” one of the silhouettes said happily. “I'd have thought you'd go the easy route and just killed them.”
“They're more valuable alive than dead,” the second silhouette replied.
“Ah, then the same can be said for this poor soul down here.” The first silhouette knelt down beside Sam, who was finding it harder and harder to keep her eyes open.
“There's nothing we can do for her. Even if we do patch her up, she'll bleed out before the paramedics arrive.”
“Who said we needed paramedics?”
Sam heard an odd clinking sound and the second silhouette gasped, “How the hell do you have SCP-427? That's a containment breach!”
“Signed it out! Duh!", the first silhouette laughed.
Sam felt a small weight on her chest, and then her vision began to clear and her pain started to subside. Surprised, she blinked and looked at her unlikely savior. It was a young man, with messy black hair and wearing a dark coat and sunglasses. Behind him, Sam caught sight of Agent Pitchfork, who appeared to be an albino woman wearing similar clothing, except toting an M40 sniper rifle.
“I hope you know what you're doing.” Agent Pitchfork scowled.
“I only kept it on long enough to make her wounds non-fatal.” The other agent grinned. “Don't feel like fighting a flesh beast today."
“Come on, let's get out of here. The police will be arriving in about forty two seconds.”
“Just a second.” Agent Pitchfork's partner knelt down beside Sam and smiled. “Oh, you're not going to die, at least not today. We've got some interesting things in mind for you.”
"Don't you mean you have interesting things in mind, Agent Spoon?" Agent Pitchfork asked suspiciously.
"Semantics." Agent Spoon shrugged.
Then, just as quickly as they appeared, both of the newcomers vanished. Sam could hear sirens in the distance, and panicked cries of onlookers who came to investigate the commotion. It was only then that Sam finally lost consciousness.

We have apprehended the Chaos Insurgency operatives and are in the process of interrogating them for information on SCP-204. However, Agent Spoon has breached protocol again, revealing our existence to a non-Foundation agent and refusing to terminate her. However, more disturbingly, Agent Spoon was in possession of SCP-427.
I suspect he may have ulterior motives. Intend to investigate further.
-Agent Pitchfork

Next: Chapter 2