The Mojave Desert: Outpost Zeta, 8:00 P.M
It was beautiful, really. Proxy gazing at his future prize through the bugged cameras, arriving at the lone base in the sandy solitude. To spark his brain, the hacker took a shot of Fireball, cracked his fingers and went straight to work. His fingers were blurs among a keyboard, it almost looked like he wasn't even touching any of the pads.
A nuclear bomb of cyber proportions was dropped upon Zeta. Surveillance, communications, emergency protocols and the works were all obliterated in minutes, deleted beyond repair. Next was to set the team in motion.
Proxy leaned into his microphone, calmly clearing his throat. "Alright, the operation is in motion, gang. Butch is the spearhead for this operation, not that it's any surprise for the rest of you. The bracelets I sent you give me complete visuals on your vitals and locations, if you take them off? Consider yourself erased from this mission, and any files and details of your involvement will be non-existent. Would you kindly keep that in mind?"
His voice coldly voiced through B-List's ear-COMMS is simply as he could put it.
After lighting a cigarette, leaning back in his designer chair, he gazed upon the monitors responsively. Proxy was expecting nothing less than success from his hired team, with the occasional... Obstacle along the way.