The Black Hand (Interest Check)

Mr. H. T. Shaw
Carnage


"...Way I see it, if it can't be solved by me, it can't be solved at all."

Overview
Henry Thomas Shaw, thirty-eight years old 'Chopper pilot. Easygoing. Calm. Collected. His youngest years are nothing to write home about. Father, mother, siblings. He's still in contact with a few of them. Not a family man, not by a long shot, but they were nothing but nice to him.

Served eight years in a mercenary company, after passing an aeronautical academy with, heh, flying colors. Thick skull, steel nerves, level head. A good soldier. He piloted a TS-33 Light Recon Helicopter, but he was sort of unhappy with that. What use was a chopper if it didn't transport troops and it didn't offer fire support? He was never interested in the finer points of warfare. His wishes were granted. It would be in the cockpit of a Starlight Tigershark Heavy Attack Helicopter that he would find his true calling.

Blazing guns, roaring missiles, shock-and-awe. Death from above. That was what he'd been living for. Inside, he sparked with gleeful abandon. He was good. Oh, he was real good. Too good, perhaps. Someone called a mark on him. In a dark alley, after a long day of slaughter, Shaw encountered the shadow of death. Knives gleamed, shots were fired.

Shaw walked away.

Three days later, a call. A number.

And, Lo and behold, Shaw had changed allegiance. After all, money makes the world go 'round.

Piloting a heavily modified Attack Helicopter, the man now only known as Mr. Shaw became an agent of the Hand.

If you didn't know him, you'd reckon he was one of the covert operatives, what with his sharp suits and gentle demeanor. A handler, even. Hell, an office worker.

Few would guess that behind his calm expression lies a cold-blooded killer. He spends his time pacing the headquarters, helping here and there. His particular talents are not befitting of most missions. Sometimes, however, subtlety isn't an option. Sometimes, a message has to be sent. That's when the gloves come off. That's when a black shadow rises above the cityscapes.

Those days are rarely forgotten.



Skillset
Shaw is, of course, a pilot. He generally works with helicopters, but he can drive most things. He sometimes helps with covert insertions and getaways, but his primary purpose is to deliver swift and decisive strikes at heavily defended positions. You can sorround yourself in walls, guards, advanced alarm systems. But a burst of cannonfire can turn your bulletproof car into a mangled mess of blood and steel.

Shaw doesn't tend to be heavily armed, but some believe he carries a heavy-caliber pistol somewhere on his person, judging by Agent Terror's wounds. He's quite good with it, too, though not nearly as much as his colleagues. Nobody knows exactly how he killed Terror, that faithful night.

He never did tell the story.