Dead Letter Bureau - Delta Green

Made in partnership with Hand on the Door.Patrick G - Handler and co-writerDamnatio Memoriae Written by Hank BelangerMusic by Sam Winham - Listen to more of his jams.CastSam as MullJimmy as MoorisonJordan as MagpieNick as MilesThe air was salt and stagnant diesel, and the man waiting on the bench was the greatest mystery of all: Agent Liam. Younger, sharper, his face yet unmarred by the scrubbing that would one day turn him into the hollowed-out wreck known as Roger Douglas.Madison’s briefing was a collection of uncomfortable facts: a modernist villa on San Juan Island, three decapitated bodies, and a Guru who claims he was merely traveling through a meditative trance when the heads were taken. It is the sort of story the deep state would call a messy distraction, but for Delta Green, it’s a siren song.Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/576NbWAEm1uOBDxlW1F4Os?si=c7228e49ddb94035Listen on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dead-letter-bureau-delta-green/id1826992923Find us on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@deadletterbureau Find transcripts: https://dead-letter-bureau.captivate.fm/Talk to us on Discord: https://discord.gg/2RFYaWHm33Published by arrangement with the Delta Green Partnership. The intellectual property known as Delta Green is a trademark and copyright owned by the Delta Green Partnership, who has licensed its use here. The contents of this podcast are ©Nick Sayers, excepting those elements that are components of the Delta Green intellectual property.

Guest intro done by Charlie of Null Project. Hear him regularly on This Line Isn't Secure.Made in partnership with Hand on the Door.Patrick G - Handler and co-writerDamnatio Memoriae Written by Hank BelangerMusic by Sam Winham - Listen to more of his jams.CastSam as MullJimmy as MoorisonJordan as MagpieNick as MilesBetween the ritualistic gestures on a burned laptop and the authentic trauma of a memory returning like a physical blow, the team is no longer investigating a target. They are investigating an amputation of their own history.Welcome to the best Delta Green mystery in town.Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/576NbWAEm1uOBDxlW1F4Os?si=c7228e49ddb94035Listen on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dead-letter-bureau-delta-green/id1826992923Find us on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@deadletterbureau Find transcripts: https://dead-letter-bureau.captivate.fm/Talk to us on Discord: https://discord.gg/2RFYaWHm33Published by arrangement with the Delta Green Partnership. The intellectual property known as Delta Green is a trademark and copyright owned by the Delta Green Partnership, who has licensed its use here. The contents of this podcast are ©Nick Sayers, excepting those elements that are components of the Delta Green intellectual property.

Made in partnership with Hand on the Door.Patrick G - Handler and co-writerDamnatio Memoriae Written by Hank BelangerMusic by Sam Winham - Listen to more of his jams.CastSam as MullJimmy as MoorisonJordan as MagpieNick as MilesThe road to Lake Chelan is paved with bad omens. In the latest chapter of our Delta Green crossover, the investigation into a "burned" agent takes a sharp, jagged turn at Snoqualmie Pass.What was supposed to be a routine pit stop for hot chocolate and energy drinks descends into a high-altitude nightmare. As the team tries to outrun a growing sense of paranoia, they realize that the "forgetting" isn't just a clinical diagnosis, it’s a contagion.Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/576NbWAEm1uOBDxlW1F4Os?si=c7228e49ddb94035Listen on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dead-letter-bureau-delta-green/id1826992923Find us on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@deadletterbureau Find transcripts: https://dead-letter-bureau.captivate.fm/Talk to us on Discord: https://discord.gg/2RFYaWHm33Published by arrangement with the Delta Green Partnership. The intellectual property known as Delta Green is a trademark and copyright owned by the Delta Green Partnership, who has licensed its use here. The contents of this podcast are ©Nick Sayers, excepting those elements that are components of the Delta Green intellectual property.

Kimmy is from a Delta Green actual play podcast called Black Flare, played the android: T.A.M.M.Y (Talking, And, Moving, Machine, Yeah)Charlie is from This Line Isn't Secure and played Mikhail OrlovJeremy (spacechef), who played Nikolai, would love you to join his Recipe Club DiscordZero hope. When the crew of the Rimor 89 is violently ripped from cryo-sleep, they find themselves not in orbit, but entombed in a flooded, rusted submarine at the bottom of an alien ocean. Surrounded by parasitic abominations and the calcified mistakes of a long-dead corporate bio-weapons division, three crewmates must fight their way to the surface. It’s a claustrophobic nightmare of failing flamethrowers, acid burns, and android nightmares. Will they drown in the dark, or will the silence of space be an even worse tomb?Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/576NbWAEm1uOBDxlW1F4Os?si=c7228e49ddb94035Listen on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dead-letter-bureau-delta-green/id1826992923Find us on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@deadletterbureau Find transcripts: https://dead-letter-bureau.captivate.fm/Talk to us on Discord: https://discord.gg/2RFYaWHm33Here are some other shows we love! Search them up.9mm Retirement RadioRPG ReanimatorsBlack FlareHand on the DoorSorry, Honey, I Have to Take ThisStories and LiesThis Line Isn't Secure

Mark Stone as Ben Kirk from Stories & Lies. Give their recent run of God's Teeth a listen now!Max from 9MM Retirement Radio as Gavin Ross. Welcome to the Season 1 Finale.Down in a Texas pasture, a man is trying to spell his own name using a makeshift Ouija board painted on a piece of plywood. The catch? He's wearing about a thousand pounds of cowhide and hooves, and all he can do is chew the cud and wait. That's just the start of this Delta Green Actual Play nightmare.Up in a rented storage unit, a spook in a rumpled suit is making a broken man sing a very special song. It ain't the kind they play on the radio. It's a song that opens up the sky like a zipper and lets the things in—the things that made a dark, dirty deal with the men in Washington a long time ago.While the sky bleeds purple and 50-caliber bullets start tearing through the trees, a couple of survivors are trying to bury their mistakes under a few feet of topsoil and a whole lot of bureaucratic red tape. It all ends in the tomb of a dead mall, staring down the barrel of a Benelli shotgun, and a vow of vengeance spoken over a satellite phone. If you like your Lovecraftian TTRPGs with a side of small-town dread, you're in the right place.CastNick Sayers... Writer, Handler, and EditorKristina... Agent RyanRyan... Agent BaroneJordan... Agent DelPodcast art by Studio JanieMusic and Sound Effects from Envato.Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/576NbWAEm1uOBDxlW1F4Os?si=c7228e49ddb94035Listen on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dead-letter-bureau-delta-green/id1826992923Find us on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@deadletterbureau Find transcripts: https://dead-letter-bureau.captivate.fm/Talk to us on Discord: https://discord.gg/2RFYaWHm33Here are some other shows we love! Search them up.9mm Retirement RadioRPG ReanimatorsBlack FlareHand on the DoorSorry, Honey, I Have to Take ThisStories and LiesThis Line Isn't SecurePublished by arrangement with the Delta Green Partnership. The intellectual property known as Delta Green is a trademark and copyright owned by the Delta Green Partnership, who has licensed its use here. The contents of this podcast are ©Nick Sayers, excepting those elements that are components of the Delta Green intellectual property.

Gavin Ross, played by Max of 9mm Retirement Radio.In the battle to become the best Delta Green podcast for deep conspiracy and visceral horror. We open in the sterile halls of power, where the "Architects" trade human lives for the keys to the kingdom and apologies are made in burn bags. Back in the sweltering present, the survivors of the bunker face a new kind of predator: a woman in a pantsuit with a smile like a foxglove and a glovebox full of incriminating photos.In this high-stakes Delta Green Actual Play, a tire is blown, a gun is drawn, and a fragile alliance is forged over the shared currency of secrets hidden in toilet tanks. We learn that you can’t expose a sickness that has infected the surgeon, and sometimes, the only way out of town is to let the stranger drive. Tune in for the ultimate Lovecraftian TTRPG experience.Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/576NbWAEm1uOBDxlW1F4Os?si=c7228e49ddb94035Listen on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dead-letter-bureau-delta-green/id1826992923Find us on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@deadletterbureau Find transcripts: https://dead-letter-bureau.captivate.fm/Talk to us on Discord: https://discord.gg/2RFYaWHm33CastNick Sayers... Writer, Handler, and EditorKristina... Agent RyanRyan... Agent BaroneJordan... Agent DelPodcast art by Studio JanieMusic and Sound Effects from Envato.Here are some other shows we love! Search them up.9mm Retirement RadioRPG ReanimatorsBlack FlareHand on the DoorSorry, Honey, I Have to Take ThisStories and LiesThis Line Isn't SecurePublished by arrangement with the Delta Green Partnership. The intellectual property known as Delta Green is a trademark and copyright owned by the Delta Green Partnership, who has licensed its use here. The contents of this podcast are ©Nick Sayers, excepting those elements that are components of the Delta Green intellectual property.

We descend into the cold earth to read the ledger of our own betrayal. In a room smelling of ozone and old blood, the paper trail proves that the monsters we fight were invited in by the hands that feed us.There are fates worse than death; there is the silence of the jar, and there is the thunderous, dull rhythm of a heart that is not your own. While one soul is exiled into a fortress of leather and chewing cud, staring blankly at the stars, the survivors below uncover the architecture of a fifteen-year lie.CastNick Sayers... Writer, Handler, and EditorKristina... Agent RyanRyan... Agent BaroneJordan... Agent DelPodcast art by Studio JanieMusic and Sound Effects from Envato.Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/576NbWAEm1uOBDxlW1F4Os?si=c7228e49ddb94035Listen on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dead-letter-bureau-delta-green/id1826992923Find us on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@deadletterbureau Find transcripts: https://dead-letter-bureau.captivate.fm/Talk to us on Discord: https://discord.gg/2RFYaWHm33Here are some other shows we love! Search them up.9mm Retirement RadioRPG ReanimatorsBlack FlareHand on the DoorSorry, Honey, I Have to Take ThisStories and LiesThis Line Isn't SecurePublished by arrangement with the Delta Green Partnership. The intellectual property known as Delta Green is a trademark and copyright owned by the Delta Green Partnership, who has licensed its use here. The contents of this podcast are ©Nick Sayers, excepting those elements that are components of the Delta Green intellectual property.

Gavin Ross, played by Max of 9mm Retirement Radio.Some debts aren't paid in cash, and some secrets aren't buried deep enough. The sun rises on a cabin in the swamp, but the morning light only illuminates the cracks in the team's trust. A shared breakfast turns into a confrontation, and a ritual intended for liberation summons something far worse than judgment. When the sky tears open and the payment comes due, we learn that the cost of knowledge is always flesh, and the only thing heavier than a weapon is the weight of a friend you couldn't save.CastNick Sayers... Writer, Handler, and EditorKristina... Agent RyanRyan... Agent BaroneJordan... Agent DelPodcast art by Studio JanieMusic and Sound Effects from Envato.Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/576NbWAEm1uOBDxlW1F4Os?si=c7228e49ddb94035Listen on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dead-letter-bureau-delta-green/id1826992923Find us on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@deadletterbureau Find transcripts: https://dead-letter-bureau.captivate.fm/Talk to us on Discord: https://discord.gg/2RFYaWHm33Here are some other shows we love! Search them up.9mm Retirement RadioRPG ReanimatorsBlack FlareHand on the DoorSorry, Honey, I Have to Take ThisStories and LiesThis Line Isn't SecurePublished by arrangement with the Delta Green Partnership. The intellectual property known as Delta Green is a trademark and copyright owned by the Delta Green Partnership, who has licensed its use here. The contents of this podcast are ©Nick Sayers, excepting those elements that are components of the Delta Green intellectual property.

Read by Jordan Written by Nick Sayers Memory is a complex thing. Do you remember something, or do you remember someone telling you about the thing? And does it matter? I don’t think anyone told me about these memories. Some things carry a weight that is hard to shrug off.Like any true American horror story, it starts off in healthcare. My mother had colitis. Colon cancer.My dad would drop my sister and me off at our great-grandma's and disappear for hours or days. We’d play Uno, watch black-and-white TV reruns, and play with Legos. I still remember the texture of her carpet on my feet. When I close my eyes, I can smell the cheap pizzas she would cook for us. No one told me those memories; they are mine.My great-grandmother took us to church every Sunday, which was a nice break from her one-bedroom apartment. She’d feed us breath mints in the pews to keep us quiet while the service happened. Years later, I’d help carry her coffin between those same pews. She was the first loss in my life. My mother almost took that ribbon instead.Sometimes my dad would take us up to Seattle while my mom was in the hospital. The visits before her surgery were the peaceful ones. She’d try to put on a smile, give me a bedside hug, and do her best to talk to me. To a young child, it was all confusing. My parents explained they had to cut out a bunch of her stomach parts and fuse other parts together.After the surgery, it was the first horrific scene. I was allowed to visit. My mother, who kissed my head, yelled at me when I did something stupid, and held on to me every day, had monstrous tubes going into her nose. They were long and snake-like. I couldn’t believe it was her with such serpentine plastics haunting her nasal canals. She tried to speak, and it sounded like a demonic perversion of my mother. As a child, I wondered if she’d be like this forever. I am sure it felt like forever to her. Seeing her sitting up in this alien, sterile, and gloomy place haunted my dreams for years. The most haunting moment was a day my dad ushered me out of the room so I didn’t have to bear witness to her pain. Too much for a child. And too late for me, because I was a witness.My mom was groaning strangely. It was like an animal. What transformation had she undergone? My dad stood up and tried to speak to her, but the groaning persisted. Her head flung back, the tubes a mockery of human biology, still hung from her place, going to an unknowable location. She made a guttural screech and a strange croak. A witch turned toad? My imagination had so many explanations, but the reality was, well, worse. She started to throw up. Those incomprehensible tubes in her body were a bypass from her throat. As my mother started to turn into a shrieking animal, a strange, colored, viscous mix started to fill the tubes, as her vomit forced her liquid diet out of the feeding tube. I was dumbfounded, chin ajar, frozen. My dad said something like “Okay.” Then ushered me out of the room. As we walked down the hall, I could hear this creature that used to be my mom wretching over and over again. Surely, she was going to die, I thought. I am assuming she wished she had just died in that moment.When you realize your parents are just human like other people, your childhood irrevocably changes. That person you rely on to regulate you, hold you, protect you, is not a god. They are not immune. They are susceptible to all sorts of horror that comes from cell anomalies and genetic hauntings. Selfishly, I never wanted to see her like that. I wanted her to live forever. For if she can die, so could I. Selfish childhood thoughts in hindsight, but a profound paradigm shift at the time.Days. Weeks. I’m not sure. We were back. My mother was pumped full of drugs. She lay on her side, maybe to avoid vomiting through her feeding tubes. This was the first time I saw what the butchers had done to her. A massive cut in her stomach smiled at me from cracks in her hospital gown. It was a mocking smile. The doctors truly butchered her body. The split in her was held together by thick staples. A sheen of plastic tape ran down it, reflecting the unnatural light with every shift in her broken body. I imagined they spilled her out for the surgery, everything in her slopping onto a metal table, where they continued their mockery of her flesh, carving out bits of her they wanted, dropping pieces of her on sterile trays. When it was all over, they had to put her back together like a puzzle. Their gloves and masks were covered in blood as indistinguishable chatter between them buzzed around the room. The butchers weren’t good at puzzles, so they put things back wrong, which is why she was changed; she wasn’t my mother in that bed. They made her anew, not a rebirth, but a strange amalgamation of what she once was. I hated them.I wanted my dad to hate them, too. He spoke to the butchers in hushed tones, like some conspiracy. Worry was always etched on his face. He’d sit cross-legged looking out at the gloomy Seattle sky for eons, while I sat next to him. He knew it was too much for me to be there sometimes. He’d buy me candy and soda from the vending machines.One day, he bought me Rolos, one of my childhood favorites. I’d rip off the paper, then delicately pull the golden foil off each cylinder of chocolate and caramel, enjoying more than just the candy. I noticed there was a hole in the top of one of the Rolos. I showed it to my dad. He took it from me with a serious face.“It might be poisoned.”I believed him. He then threw it in his mouth, and I was scared for him. “Here, give me another one," he said.He showed me a hole in that one, too. Why was he eating them? “I’ll make sure there is no poison in them.” After a third, he rubbed my head and told me they were probably safe to eat, so I ate them. They had to be safe. It wasn’t the years of medical debt my parents struggled to pay, the selling of a business, or settling for a lower-paying job that I’m sure tore my dad apart inside. No, it was the poisoned Rolos that stayed with me.Years later, I realized he just wanted some of my Rolos.

In this episode of Dead Letter Bureau, the hosts introduce Delta Green and guide new players through gameplay mechanics. The narrative unfolds as players explore a dark and mysterious world filled with moral dilemmas and unexpected twists. The story follows two characters, Barone and Emmett, as they navigate a series of investigations, uncovering secrets and facing challenges. The atmosphere is thick with tension, and the players must work together to solve the mysteries that lie ahead. As they navigate through the horrors of the past, they grapple with their sanity and the moral implications of their actions. Cast and CrewNick Sayers... Handler, and EditorZach... Agent EmmetRyan... Agent BaroneListen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/576NbWAEm1uOBDxlW1F4Os?si=c7228e49ddb94035Listen on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dead-letter-bureau-delta-green/id1826992923Find us on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@deadletterbureau Find transcripts: https://dead-letter-bureau.captivate.fm/Talk to us on Discord: https://discord.gg/2RFYaWHm33Here are some other shows we love! Search them up.9mm Retirement RadioRPG ReanimatorsBlack FlareHand on the DoorSorry, Honey, I Have to Take ThisStories and LiesThis Line Isn't SecurePublished by arrangement with the Delta Green Partnership. The intellectual property known as Delta Green is a trademark and copyright owned by the Delta Green Partnership, who has licensed its use here. The contents of this podcast are ©Nick Sayers, excepting those elements that are components of the Delta Green intellectual property.

Read and performed by Max from 9mm Retirement Radio, go give them a listen now!Nyarlathotep By H. P. LovecraftNyarlathotep . . . the crawling chaos . . . I am the last . . . I will tell the audient void. . . .I do not recall distinctly when it began, but it was months ago. The general tension was horrible. To a season of political and social upheaval was added a strange and brooding apprehension of hideous physical danger; a danger widespread and all-embracing, such a danger as may be imagined only in the most terrible phantasms of the night. I recall that the people went about with pale and worried faces, and whispered warnings and prophecies which no one dared consciously repeat or acknowledge to himself that he had heard. A sense of monstrous guilt was upon the land, and out of the abysses between the stars swept chill currents that made men shiver in dark and lonely places. There was a daemoniac alteration in the sequence of the seasons—the autumn heat lingered fearsomely, and everyone felt that the world and perhaps the universe had passed from the control of known gods or forces to that of gods or forces which were unknown.And it was then that Nyarlathotep came out of Egypt. Who he was, none could tell, but he was of the old native blood and looked like a Pharaoh. The fellahin knelt when they saw him, yet could not say why. He said he had risen up out of the blackness of twenty-seven centuries, and that he had heard messages from places not on this planet. Into the lands of civilisation came Nyarlathotep, swarthy, slender, and sinister, always buying strange instruments of glass and metal and combining them into instruments yet stranger. He spoke much of the sciences—of electricity and psychology—and gave exhibitions of power which sent his spectators away speechless, yet which swelled his fame to exceeding magnitude. Men advised one another to see Nyarlathotep, and shuddered. And where Nyarlathotep went, rest vanished; for the small hours were rent with the screams of nightmare. Never before had the screams of nightmare been such a public problem; now the wise men almost wished they could forbid sleep in the small hours, that the shrieks of cities might less horribly disturb the pale, pitying moon as it glimmered on green waters gliding under bridges, and old steeples crumbling against a sickly sky.I remember when Nyarlathotep came to my city—the great, the old, the terrible city of unnumbered crimes. My friend had told me of him, and of the impelling fascination and allurement of his revelations, and I burned with eagerness to explore his uttermost mysteries. My friend said they were horrible and impressive beyond my most fevered imaginings; that what was thrown on a screen in the darkened room prophesied things none but Nyarlathotep dared prophesy, and that in the sputter of his sparks there was taken from men that which had never been taken before yet which shewed only in the eyes. And I heard it hinted abroad that those who knew Nyarlathotep looked on sights which others saw not.It was in the hot autumn that I went through the night with the restless crowds to see Nyarlathotep; through the stifling night and up the endless stairs into the choking room. And shadowed on a screen, I saw hooded forms amidst ruins, and yellow evil faces peering from behind fallen monuments. And I saw the world battling against blackness; against the waves of destruction from ultimate space; whirling, churning; struggling around the dimming, cooling sun. Then the sparks played amazingly around the heads of the spectators, and hair stood up on end whilst shadows more grotesque than I can tell came out and squatted on the heads. And when I, who was colder and more scientific than the rest, mumbled a trembling protest about “imposture” and “static electricity”, Nyarlathotep drave us all out, down the dizzy stairs into the damp, hot, deserted midnight streets. I screamed aloud that I was not afraid; that I never could be afraid; and others screamed with me for solace. We sware to one another that the city was exactly the same, and still alive; and when the electric lights began to fade we cursed the company over and over again, and laughed at the queer faces we made.I believe we felt something coming down from the greenish moon, for when we began to depend on its light we drifted into curious involuntary formations and seemed to know our destinations though we dared not think of them. Once we looked at the pavement and found the blocks loose and displaced by grass, with scarce a line of rusted metal to shew where the tramways had run. And again we saw a tram-car, lone, windowless, dilapidated, and almost on its side. When we gazed around the horizon, we could not find the third tower by the river, and noticed that the silhouette of the second tower was ragged at the top. Then we split up into narrow columns, each of which seemed drawn in a different direction. One disappeared in a narrow alley to the left, leaving only the echo of a shocking moan. Another filed down a weed-choked subway entrance, howling with a laughter that was mad. My own column was sucked toward the open country, and presently felt a chill which was not of the hot autumn; for as we stalked out on the dark moor, we beheld around us the hellish moon-glitter of evil snows. Trackless, inexplicable snows, swept asunder in one direction only, where lay a gulf all the blacker for its glittering walls. The column seemed very thin indeed as it plodded dreamily into the gulf. I lingered behind, for the black rift in the green-litten snow was frightful, and I thought I had heard the reverberations of a disquieting wail as my companions vanished; but my power to linger was slight. As if beckoned by those who had gone before, I half floated between the titanic snowdrifts, quivering and afraid, into the sightless vortex of the unimaginable.Screamingly sentient, dumbly delirious, only the gods that were can tell. A sickened, sensitive shadow writhing in hands that are not hands, and whirled blindly past ghastly midnights of rotting creation, corpses of dead worlds with sores that were cities, charnel winds that brush the pallid stars and make them flicker low. Beyond the worlds vague ghosts of monstrous things; half-seen columns of unsanctified temples that rest on nameless rocks beneath space and reach up to dizzy vacua above the spheres of light and darkness. And through this revolting graveyard of the universe the muffled, maddening beating of drums, and thin, monotonous whine of blasphemous flutes from inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond Time; the detestable pounding and piping whereunto dance slowly, awkwardly, and absurdly the gigantic, tenebrous ultimate gods—the blind, voiceless, mindless gargoyles whose soul is Nyarlathotep.

They went looking for answers in the dark, but the darkness was already inside them. A seemingly mundane dinner quickly turns peculiar when one agent develops a disturbing appetite. Following this unsettling omen, the team attempts a low-profile night mission into the local swamp, seeking signs of the strange gatherings they previously uncovered. The truth is out there, but this time, it came with teeth.Listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/576NbWAEm1uOBDxlW1F4Os?si=c7228e49ddb94035Listen on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dead-letter-bureau-delta-green/id1826992923Find us on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@deadletterbureau Find transcripts: https://dead-letter-bureau.captivate.fm/Talk to us on Discord: https://discord.gg/2RFYaWHm33CastNick Sayers... Writer, Handler, and EditorKristina... Agent RyanRyan... Agent BaroneJordan... Agent DelPodcast art by Studio JanieMusic and Sound Effects from Envato.Here are some other shows we love! Search them up.9mm Retirement RadioRPG ReanimatorsBlack FlareHand on the DoorSorry, Honey, I Have to Take ThisStories and LiesThis Line Isn't SecurePublished by arrangement with the Delta Green Partnership. The intellectual property known as Delta Green is a trademark and copyright owned by the Delta Green Partnership, who has licensed its use here. The contents of this podcast are ©Nick Sayers, excepting those elements that are components of the Delta Green intellectual property.