A damp haze covered the remote jungle island in the Pacific, as water lashed against the rocky cliffs that stood guarding its edge. A steel, crate ridden barge slowly trudged around the edge of the island, carefully avoiding the rocks at its coast. It's captain, a haggard looking old seaman, with a frizzled grey beard and limp on his right side. His most notable feature, however, was a reddish, wrinkled scar which could just barely be seen beyond his facial hair and low hanging rain cap. The scar disfigured almost half the man's face, running over his left eye and on down to his left ear and cheek.
The craft and its crew found their way under an overpass in the rocky barrier. Beyond the boat the back cave wall ascended into the rocky crevasse above revealing a fluorescent lit, docking area, lined with guards. The boat came to a stop and the captain departed the ship. He removed his cap and faux facial hair revealing more scaring up into his grey hairline and down the left of his neck.
A guard dressed in all black Kevlar and equipped with a charge gun approached the man, followed by another slighter figure in a sleek, dark grey Kiton suit with snow white hair slicked back with a copious amount of gel.
"Ah, Tobin. I assume your search was a success?" the well dressed man asked. Tobin closed his eyes, giving a slight nod, and handed him a medium manila envelope. The man took it and gingerly slipped his fingers under the lip, peeling it back. The man reached in and pulled out several papers and photographs. A slow smile spread across his face as he scan through each piece, savoring each one. He glanced back at Tobin.
"Assemble your Alpha team and take whatever you deem necessary. It looks like you all will be taking a trip to Westchester, New York."