Protect Me From the Enemy, Myself

The enemy is within the gates; it is with our own luxury, our own folly, our own criminality that we have to contend. —Marcus Tullius Cicero


This scenario expects experienced Agents from either the Program or the Outlaws scarred by at least three missions. The narrative could twist into a campaign or remain merely one of many traumas the characters endure.


Each agent receives a ticket to a Major League Baseball night game via their regular Case Operator from a false address. The mailer displays whatever proper security measures are needed to get them to open it.

Remind Agents that all spectators must pass a security check before entry into the ballpark.

Their nosebleed seats are next to one another, a few rows from any other spectators. Nothing Delta Greeny happens until the bottom of the seventh inning, when the jumbotron displays announcements from families, individuals, and corporations. The fifth display reads “Bucolic 41st Anniversary to Opera Night Tailgaters.” Let players try to figure the code out for a few minutes before the characters realize they should go to section B-41 of the stadium’s parking lot.


The only illumination comes from giant baseball lights painted with column letters and row numbers high on posts. The stadium glows and occasionally roars in the background.

Anyone with Search 30%+ finds the corpse of their Case Operator in a spot determined by the Handler’s cruelty: nice, it’s on the ground; not nice, it’s atop and damaged someone’s car. The Agent’s former boss has a fractured skull trickling blood from the nose, mouth, and ears. The arms are sickly twisted, and some pink gut protrudes from a rupture above their hipbone. Both eyes are open. A broken Glock 17M rests a few feet away.

The helpless Sanity loss for seeing their operator in this sorry state is 0/1d4, more if they were a Bond (1/1d6).

Immediately after checking SAN the crowd cheers in the distance—the home team took the lead in the bottom of the eighth inning. Tell Agents that the game might be over in about 15 minutes, and thousands of people are going to violate this crime scene.

Searching the body reveals a fake ID, $235 cash, a burner phone, and a plain sealed envelope.

First Aid or Medicine 25%+ indicates they died due to ground impact, and Forensics 40%+ with a kit can estimate time of death in the last thirty minutes due to falling 75 to 90 feet—higher than anything in the immediate vicinity. Firearms above 40% shows that their operator discharged four rounds from their sidearm, the serial numbers are filed away, and the gun isn’t worth repair.

The burner phone received one call from an unlisted number three hours ago.

The envelope contains a dossier of Kiania de Léon (key-AY-nee-uh), a mid-level signals analyst who quit the NSA one week ago. She’s 37, married with two girls ages 9 and 13, and lives in a suburban tract home outside the city. The dossier states that she should be considered armed, cunning, ruthless, and possesses an unknown understanding of hypergeometry, mastering at least one ritual. She shows signs of having or being close to a mental breakdown. The dossier does not say what the mission objectives are—the CO was supposed to do that.


Agents need to work fast if they are going to keep this quiet. First, what are they going to do with their case operator? Handlers should refer to the corpse by their codename. If the body dented someone’s car in the drop, are they going to do anything about it? Are they going to go to the police (or call it in if they are local police)?

If Agents have another contact with Delta Green or call police, they get “The Phone’s Ringing” scene in an hour. That might be too late.

Cameras – flashing authority at the stadium allows access to security footage, revealing their CO vanishing from view behind an SUV. Then a damn big bat darts across the screen. A shadow streaks and hits either the ground or the vehicle, the latter being an insurance case that will be hard to keep quiet unless agents obfuscate.

Whenever 20 minutes pass, explosions resound across the parking lot—fireworks celebrating a home team win. The crowd rowdily shambles out of the arena.


Tracing Kiania with SIGINT, Bureaucracy, Law, or Computer Science at 30%-40% gleans
her career, starting with four years in the Air Force, rank 2nd Lieutenant, specializing in drone operations. She has been with the NSA for the last 12 years, focusing on Middle Eastern SIGINT, fluent in Dari, Pashtu, and Arabic, plus a basic understanding of six regional Afghan dialects.

Agents with 40%-60% in those four skills also discover that her husband of 15 years filed for divorce four months ago. The family is financially stable. She has been proscribed a sampler plate of anti-anxiety, anti-depressant, and even one anti-psychotic medications for the last six months. Having Medicine 40%+ or Pharmacy 20%+ knows she’s looking for a drug that alleviates symptoms not detailed in the report.

Characters having over 60% in any of those skills also find out that she has been a Delta Green agent (on the same riverbank as the characters) for five years under the codename “Vates”. Any mission intel is restricted, but she survived at least half a dozen.


When the Agents leave the parking lot, they are tracked by a UAV operated by de Léon. It has a range of five miles and max flight time of 30 minutes. All agents should oppose their Alertness versus Kiania’s drone operation skill (60%) to notice the hovering device. She gets +10% bonus for night and another +10% if in a loud area, like the parking lot at a sporting event. If they fire at it (risking exposure or harming innocents), -20% to hit, but its destroyed with success. The remains indicate it had an HD camera, but offer no clues as to the pilot’s location.

Kiania only wants an “in” to the team—the license plate of their car, the use of a credit or metro card, making a cell phone call, flashing a badge outside, etc. If they reveal something within a half hour, she’ll use SIGINT to access their file(s), digging up their day job, bonds, duration in the Opera, and rudimentary info on their last mission. If Agents have taken deliberate steps to cover their digital footprints, she makes an opposed skill check against their relevant skill.


When dramatically appropriate, the burner phone rings. A computerized voice asks for security protocol Koala Twelve. If agents do not immediately state that their Operator is dead and explain who they are, the line disconnects and the phone never rings again. If they are forthcoming and honest, the voice pauses before stating that this cell is now under the supervision of Pazuzu, their new CO. The mission is to sanction Kiania with extreme prejudice. Do not contact her under any circumstance. Make it look like suicide. No other intel is provided.


Who gets the drop on whom? Kiania’s family has not seen her for two weeks. If she can’t trace the Agents digitally, she can be outmaneuvered in the field and ambushed. Otherwise, she will knock on their door or car window in broad daylight, in the most public place possible. If she has any opportunity to talk to Agents, she will. She is shaky and bleary eyed from insomnia and stimulants. 

If you and your players are up to it, role-play this scene. Roll HUMINT sparingly, if at all, and Persuade (opposed) only as a last resort.

“You’re supposed to kill me,” she begins. “Will you?”

Kiania says Delta Green is a sham, compromised at the top. Instead of winning the war, we abet the Monsters, maybe from fighting them for so long. She feels she must expose it all—the conspiracy, the supernatural, everything. She has petabytes of stolen data, possibly intel on some or all Agents, which she uses to parley.

The death of their operator was a tragic accident, and she genuinely feels remorse. The Faceless Flyer was supposed to take their CO into a Dream just to put time and distance between her and the Agents.

She tries to recruit them by offering proof, e.g., the schism between Program and Outlaws. Failing that, she asks the hunt to be called off; help her fake her death in exchange for teaching them the Voorish Sign. Failing that, she slowly and calmly begs for her life while casting Fascination.

This scenario has no Sanity gain, only the potential for loss.


STR: 09 CON: 12 DEX: 10
INT: 14 POW: 17 CHA: 14
HP: 11 WP: 17 (7 currently) SAN: 35
Female, ethnically Latinx
Sleep Disorder, Addiction (Temazepam)
Bonds: all gone

Skills: Anthropology: 40 Bureaucracy: 50 Computer Science: 60 Criminology: 40 Firearms: 40 History: 40 HUMINT: 50 Languages - Arabic: 50 Dari: 40 Pashtu: 50 SIGINT: 80 Persuade: 45 Pilot UAV: 60 Unnatural: 15

Weapon: .380 ACP
Spells: Beseech the Winged Dream (Summon Nightgaunt), Lessen Their Grief, the Outbreak of the Mind (Fascination), Voorish Sign

Kiania is 1 away from her Breaking Point, and misses any Sanity roll if she experiences violence or helplessness. This overwhelms her with a nasty Dissociative Personality Disorder. She will not attack Agents unless she hits her BP.


This is an entry to the 2018 Delta Green shotgun scenario contest, written by Aaron Vanek.

The intellectual property known as Delta Green is ™ and © the Delta Green Partnership. The contents of this document are © their respective authors, excepting those elements that are components of the Delta Green intellectual property.