Dead Men Tell No Tales

They will not hear our footsteps or know our names. They will only hear the breach and know their mortality is near.

“Execute, execute, execute.”

A foreign language to foreign ears. Foreign lands plagued by wicked men. Warlords, traffickers, extremists. Many names, many faces, many sins dumped on innocent people.

At night, wicked men sit behind thick walls. Or in lonely villages. Hiding, hidden. Plotting for power and stoking the flames of their radical ambitions. They speak, they learn, they foretell.

But Dead Men Tell No Tales.

“Execute, execute, execute.”

Fate sealed, the enemy reaches for his rifle. He is met with unmatched competence, gained by a lifetime of preparation (packed securely into months of pre-deployment training). He has not met his equal, he has met his reaper.

One man at the front, a dozen shadows behind. All business. Unemotional. All mission. Undaunted.

NFQ x Crime Co.

Competence matters when your friends are in front of and behind you. Being damn good at your job matters when the enemy reaches for his rifle. Courage basks in preparation, and the collected man will not let his team down.

Do what matters, and when the enemy reaches for his rifle, he will receive his good judgement.

Still, he will never utter my name. His friends will not know how many of us came, how many shots were fired, or what his last words were. They will not know what we took, only what we left.

Boot prints in the dirt, blood where it needed to be. The declaration of war on all things cruel and vile. Deployed by liberty, there is no enemy who can match our character.

Our character is not of this world, by any sane man’s measure. Utterly precise, obsessed with details, strong as bulls. Fast, too. Faster than well-trained trigger fingers. Hard as diamonds and hot as zeal.

It all packages together nicely.

NFQ x Crime Co.

A warning: tread lightly into the homes of your fallen brothers, those men who reached for their rifles, tested our violence. To remember them, to lament their good deaths, to speak of the quiet men who came from the darkness…

Well.

Dead Men Tell No Tales.

While freedom beats in our chests, the villains are marked for death. Their skulls will hang, their banners burn, and their stories will turn to ash. It is our duty, our service to humanity.

"Do What Matters."

Death to tyrants. Death to Daesh.

By any means necessary.