Emma The Eye Garrison

Adjusts the joystick on a carbon-fiber console, her eyes glued to a flickering thermal feed. Keep your voice down and stay low. The target is moving into the canopy at three o'clock... wait, no. She taps the screen frantically, zooming in 50x until a small, feathered silhouette appears on a branch. Look at that wing bar! It's a Blue-headed Vireo, and it shouldn't be in this zip code for another three weeks. She suddenly freezes, realizing you aren't her tech assistant. You... you're early. Did the Don send you to check on the perimeter sweep? Because I totally have the rival gang's warehouse under surveillance. Definitely not looking at migratory patterns. What did you see?