NationStates Jolt Archive

The room they all sat in was bare except for a whiteboard covered with maps and notes, and a number of chairs. Only half of these chairs had occupants. On one side of the room sat a group of SOET, all of which were giving dirty looks to the other half of the room. The other half was composed entirely of foreigners. A commanding voice got the attention of everyone in the room.

A man dressed in standard desert fatigues walked into the room, stretching as he went. "Okay people, listen up. I'm Sergeant Hyde. I'll be commanding this little operation."

He looked around the room, at the veteran Sigman soldiers, the mercenaries, the foreign soldiers, the reporter and the archeologist. He didn't know what the government was thinking, using a PR stunt to wipe out a dangerous cult, but it wasn't his place to question orders.

He gestured at the map. "Okay, so this is how it's gonna happen. We, and by we I mean team A (he gestured at the himself and the foreigners), will be dropped three miles from the target area. Team B (he pointed to the SOET) will be executing a rapid deployment mcyh closer to scout out the area and provide backup if needed. You men already have your orders, you're just here so that my team knows of your whereabouts and won't shoot you. You men are dismissed." The SOET stood up and left the room.

"Okay, team A, I shall be leading you. I know the area well, and that is why I was chosen for this position. And now we get to the mission objectives." He pointed at one of the scribbles on the board. It was indecipherable, so he added,"This is also included in the folders sitting in front of each of you."

"Our primary objective is the elimination of the leader of a cult calling itself the Hand of Barakel. The leader is one Bethany Red, called 'Sister Red' by her cultists. She and her 'flock' have taken position in a village built overtop an ancient temple. They came in and killed the archeological team that was digging there. Reports state that there are roughly 3000 men, women and children there. I don't want any hesitation, these people are wackos and will kill you if they get the chance. Consider anyone you encounter a hostile."

He pointed to a satellite photo of the village. "Okay, the entrance to the temple is located here, below the town center." He pointed to a large building at the center of the village. "Our second objective is to infiltrate it, and blow it up. I believe that one of you is a demolitions expert, and I as well will be carrying charges. We've got as up to date a map of the temple as possible, the one that was included with the archeology teams last update before they were killed. That's also in those folders."

"Okay, I think that's enough for starters, now lets get to know each other, shall we? It would help tremendously with teamwork up there."

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v335/Snow_Fall/Characters/Hyde.jpg
Sergeant Hyde

Kali hadn't been fazed by the hostile looks she and the others had been getting. It was natural and she was used to it. Heck half the time my own people don't like my cover, or my speciality, so I've gotten a double dose far more than most. Get over it! Her cool demeanor hid the thoughts she sent sneering towards the departing SOET troops.

At least Sergeant Hyde is being more professional. Kali thought as she waited to see if anyone else would bite. After a few seconds of awkward silence she gave a small shrug and spoke up.

"I'm Kalistarra Windborne, and I am a Photojournalist from The Militarized Zone. I am also combat trained." Kali probably hadn't needed to add the last. However she'd never worked with any in this group before and didn't know if they knew that all TMZer's were combat trained. She'd also refrained from mentioning her speciality, and wouldn't unless it became necessary.

"I go by Kali"

http://www.atddm.com/kali1.jpg

Roy had picked up the folder and began leafing through it as soon as the man calling himself Sargent Hyde mentioned it. He paid special attention to the portion of the file concerning Bethany, or Sister, Red as well as the map of the village.

To an assassin, knowing the target as well as the layout of the target's compound was far and away more important than any patrol schedule. When he heard Hyde mention introductions, he looked up and said "Roy Black." Thought he slurred the Black so it sounded like Blahk.

Seville stood up and eyed everyone in the room, then took a deep breath and said:
"I am Phoenix Seville you can call me Phoenix or Seville. I am an Honorary Knight of the Phoenix and am trained in all forms of Infantry combat. I don't usually talk much but when I do, it will be loud and important and I will only say it once, watch for my tactical hand signals if you care about staying alive, oh and this hand signal :upyours: usually means get out of my way or shut up, other than that just keep your heads down if I'm throwing a frag or launching a rocket and we won't have any problems. Oh and you might want to wear earplugs if I am firing my AR-22A3 near you."
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v293/grunt74/phxsolda.gif
He took his seat and crossed one leg over the other.

Dominic's emerald eyes narrowed as the loud-mouthed asshole sitting in front of him stood up and began his self-glorifying tirade...

'Obviously stealth and discretion aren't considered "Infantry" tactics where he comes from...'

It looked like he was next in line for an introduction, so he stood and began speaking, his speech pattern smooth and relaxed...

"Dominic Matthews... Call me Dom..."

He then seated himself, rotating his neck to pop a kink out of it. Matthews was built quite solidly, with powerful arms and a thick chest. His exposed arms rippled with sinew and raised veins, and were covered in a thick network of black tribal tattoo ink, much like the rest of his body. The artwork had cost him close to twenty-grand, and covered close to ninety-percent of his body, from his ankles to his wrists, and crawling up his neck and ending before his closely-shaven scalp showing through the stubble that ran across his head and around his face, mostly in uniform length.

Dressed in a pair of black tactical pants, a black wife-beater, black combat boots, and a pair of matching fingerless tactical gloves. A bandanna of the same color was wrapped over his head and tied in the back. A smaller tribal design, like a thin slash from an inky claw, ran under his left eye, matching the equally wicked-looking design across his throat. The ink's dark color contrasted with the deep reddish hue of his skin, making him look much darker than he actually was. The DEA hadn't liked the ink, but it had conformed with the US Army regulations back then, and they had accepted it as well due to his excellent track record. Since he'd left the DEA, however, he'd gotten the facial tat and extended the design on his back to cover his throat.

He sat quietly, hands interlaced on the desk in front of him, eyes scanning the corners for anything he'd previously missed in the seconds between sweeps. Dominic was lightly armed at the moment, only his his 9mm P229R Sig-Sauer tucked securely in a drop-leg holster on his right side. He'd never really had a preference for knives, and rarely used them for anything other than utility work. The small mini-pentagon from SOG sheathed at the small of his back could have been for any number of things, if the observer didn't know him well enough. Dom's hands had been his tools of close-range chaos since he was seven, ranging from boxing through kick-boxing and Muay-Thai to the Army Combatives and a bit of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu before his enlistment with Red Dawn International, which had landed him this sweet operation he was getting briefed on...

Lewis listened to Sergeant Hyde attentively, his finger drumming on his temple habitually. He occasionally gave a quick glance at the opposite side of the room-taking note of the glares and dirty looks he and the other guests were receiving. He didn’t think much of it, if he was in the same position he probably wouldn’t have been pleased when he found out foreigners were taking key positions away from people whom they had trained with and knew well.

His eyes focused on the maps searching for locations of tactical importance while his ears, ever vigilant listened to the sergeant. He glanced from the whitewall to the Sergeant and then picked up the folder and leafed through the pages quickly picking up keynotes, most notably the picture of this ‘Sister Red’, cute but not his type. He quirked an eyebrow when he heard the number of opposition, most operations involved this many opposing forces was set piece battles or decimated by air strikes and artillery. His first thought was he going to have to carry a lot more ammo than he originally intended, his second was glad he wasn’t going to be in the frontlines where children may be in the cross fire, he had the option of selecting his targets.

The pictures changed on the white wall and he scanned them over before the sergeant continued talking, followed by the reporter girl Kali, again cute but not his type, he preferred redheads. Followed by the Mr. Black. He made a mental note that should they practice any non-lethal training exercises to shoot Mr. Seville in the ass, arrogance gets people killed. He rather liked Dominic, didn’t care much for the tattoos but that was a personal taste, nothing that would make him think less of anyone who was watching his ass when the bullets started flying.

Lewis decided it was his turn to spill his guts to his companions; he stood up at attention in his desert fatigue, he appeared to be the oldest one in this little group his skin tanned and leathered from spending most of his time under a relentless sun, his documents putting him at 32 years of age.” I am Specialist Lewis Clay; I’ll be your team sniper for this operation. I have served in several theaters on several tours in both the infantry role and sniper role.” He promptly sat back down and began to read through the folder in full detail.

Kali had been hard pressed not to snort in amused disgust at the ego stroking issued by one Phoenix Seville to himself. She, by the time he sat back down, had her own name for him Expendable. Fortuantely there's one in every group. He'll make excellent bullet bait. Damn puppy isn't isn't even drinking age and he knows 'everything'? Like no! She gave him a tiny nod and turned her interest to the quiet man who stood next.

He had a nice voice, strong without being loud. and why does Dom remind me of Vin in Pitch Black? She wondered as she took in the tat's that showed. She'd guess they had cost a pretty penny. He moved like some one who'd been around more than just a combat zone, and his eyes never stopped observing. That was good, some one with situational awareness was always an asset. The calluses on his hands spoke volumes adding to her on going internal estimate.

The next one to introduce himself was Lewis and he looked to be a steady reliable sort, exactly as a sniper should be in her estimation. He looked somewhat older than she, and was probably the oldest in the group.

Fred Talbert groaned as Phoenix Seville went on his rant and finally finished with an arrogant and condescending statement implying his opinion about the professionalism of the others. He waited patiently through the others introducing themselves, sitting in a back corner of the room, leaning on the wall and his chair at the same time, with his arms crossed. Regardless of the other team members, he'd been hired to do a job, and he would, with or without them.

"Talbert," he stated, taking his time. "Fred Talbert." With this, he picked up his folder and started leafing through it, staring intently at the maps included for sniping and scouting locations. Seeing all the others still looking at him, he sighed once again and went back to the folder, assuming that they would eventually move their focus somewhere else, to the next person that introduced himself.

He was versatile. It was one of his strong points. It made him easy to hire, because he could fulfill nearly any job. He was a good marksman, although as his rifle wasn't as accurate as some sniper rifles at a distance not the best one equipped for it on the team. He was an expert with explosives, a good assaulter, supporter, and well-trained in survival. However, his one specialty truly was scouting and infiltration. Stealth. And with years of experience in special forces and as a freelance operative, he'd had a long time to hone it. He would be the team scout, and he would be good at it. But these poor bastards could find that out later.

Anastasia yawned slightly as she looked over the other members of the party. Though that woman reporter interested her slightly. She could prove troublesome. "I am Anastasia Razlina. I have offered my archaelogical expertise and knowledge to the local government. They have accepted. I'm not going to lecture you, gentlemen and ladies. You know what you're doing, and I know what I'm doing, which will be trying to keep you safe from those things you can't kill." She stretched somewhat, flexing a little. Her body was lithe and seemed agile, built more for speed than strength (of course). A small pack sat by the side of her seat, and a coiled whip hung by it. Her two holsters were empty at present, but they'd be filled soon enough.

With an easy movement she twirled her bush hat back onto her head and brushed her red hair back into place. 'This looks to be a rather interesting operation,' the woman said to herself, finally. She looked at the males rather more closely now. Seville...Seville would die first, she wagered. Certainly she wasn't overly willing to exert herself on that odious lout's part. Roy...Bahk, was it? Whatever his name was, he hardly seemed useful to her own purposes. Dom barely managed a glance, she had seen his lot far too often on previous 'expeditions' and wasn't willing to chance it again.

Now, Lewis. There was some potential. She checked the briefing notes. Upon finding he was the sniper, her interest expanded a little. Someone like that could almost certainly be hired for a little side project, and whatever his price, if her own guess panned out it would be worth it. And then there was Talbert. She watched him for a moment, deciding she was neutral on him. Her eyes traced back to Lewis for a second or two, then she decided to return to watching the Team Leader before her staring was noticed.

Of course, she wasn't an archaologist. Well, in a technical sense she was. She went places, found objects, and sold them. But in a more realistic way, she was what could be called a treasure hunter. The difference is similar to that between a soldier and a thug. Because Anastasia didn't care if the objects she was stealing were still in use or not. In fact, she preferred it if they were, as it made it all the more challenging. Not for her, digging in the mud and dirt for months for a pittance. Not for her, selling her hard work to some dry academic to put on a shelf and lecture about. While herself knowledgeable about most, if not all, ancient societies and cultures (and enough of a student of anthropology that she knew about many modern-day 'targets'), she was lukewarm about helping other people become educated.

Her market was what she called the 'loutish rich'. Who didn't care about culture or history and simply were willing to pay for an interesting knick-knack to hang on their doors or use as a conversation piece. So far, it worked. And now she had another opportunity to legally plunder.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v369/Roania/IWDF1_L.jpg

Kali took in additional observations of each of the others as they introduced themselves, and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she reassessed Razlina. And decided that the woman might well be the first to die rather than Phoenix. Something in her, something that she seldom questioned as it had saved her perky derriere in the past far too often, roused and advised her that it didn't like the archeologist at all.

She knew all most instantly what had prompted the distrust. Anastasia Razlina was perfectly willing to use her sexuality as a weapon, something Kali personally despised when used inappropriately.Like on a op Kali's thoughts were cold. In her stern opinion such tactics were saved for the far deadlier and more covert wars of leisure time. Her own current clothing was a TMZ reservist uniform in drab colors. The fit was perfectly tailored, but it in no way called undue attention to her form. And in armor she'd be even more anonymous, just another operative.

Dom's eyes shifted from the room itself to the people he'd be getting shot at with in the not-so-distant future...

First, he sized up the 'Clay' guy. The desert fatigues seemed a little out of place, although he hadn't gotten that good of a look at the outside on the way in. Perhaps it was the standard where he came from, like the old woodland pattern the Army issued back when he was still enlisted. The way the man moved spoke more about his ability than the man himself. They were precise, almost surgical in their exactness...

'The hallmark of a good sniper...'

His gaze drifted across the Talbert fellow next, who placed his footsteps with the same decisive perfection as Clay had, but with the body positioning of exact weight distribution to maximize balance...

'Bastard moves like a cat burglar...'

Out of habit, Dom's right hand drifted back towards his right back pocket to feel for his wallet. Thankfully, it was still in place. The 'Kali' female said her role was that of a reporter, and her quick eyes seemed to go along with her story. She also said she'd been trained in combat, which could be anything from nightly karate classes to special forces-grade weapons and explosives training. He guessed he'd see which sort of training soon enough.

Anastasia posed a different set of questions: She said she was an archeologist, but her demenor and equipment suggested that of a treasure hunter. The whip didn't do much to send his thoughts in another direction, either...

'Either a dominatrix or she's watched Raiders of the Lost Ark too many times...'

Mr. Black was obviously an assassin, both by his apparent dislike for words and his extreme attention to the operations packet he'd been handed. While he didn't appear to be carrying a surpressed Ruger Mark II, he guessed something similar would be employed in the coming operation.

Sergeant Hyde looked like a capable sort, a typical special-ops NCO with the attention to detail and gift for words that typically came with the stripes...

Phoenix idly fingered the button on his holster as his eyes slowly glanced back and forth between the women, and occasionaly to the eyes of whomever was speaking at the time. To him, it looked like there was a decent mix of firepower between the group... except for the "archaeologist", and that "Blah" fellow, they seemed to have only smaller, concealable weapons... if any. He wondered if he should fetch a pair of AR-66 Silent Assault Rifles from his vehicle for them... and then decided it was too late.. and that they might not even accept them or be insulted if he did. Everyone here obviously had something to bring to the team, if not raw firepower there were several things he could think of which would be helpful...
He pretended to read as he flipped through the pages of packet but had already memorized the enitre thing with his photographic memory. His legs started to shake a little, he did not like to sit around for more than a few minutes, and he was ready to get on with the mission.

Hyde looked around the room at his team. Talbert, Clay, Matthews and Black were all soldiers that he knew he could respect and depend on. He could tell by the way they moved, how they looked at the information given them and how they viewed those around them. Reminded him of soldier's he had worked with before.

Ms. Windborne seemed capable, but she was a reporter. His view of reporters was less than capable, all they seemed to do was put a bad spin on what good soldiers like him did in the field. He would try not to hold it against her, as a reporter had been asked for by the government agency that came up with this little stunt, but he wasn't gonna take a bullet for her if she couldn't defend herself.

Ms. Razlina. He knew full well that she was a treasure hunter. But her knowledge of areas such as the temple was invaluable, so she had been accepted. He just had to make sure she didn't clear out with a few valuable Ancient Sigman artifacts. He'd keep an eye on her.

Finally, he looked at Seville. There were probably gonna be problems in the field with a guy like that. Hyde would put him in his place if he attempted to wrest control of the squad from him. He could tell the others felt the same way. But he could tell that Seville was a large guy, and would probably be able to take a few bullets and keep going. As long as those bullets weren't coming from the squad, things would work out.

"Okay, lets cut the chatter and load up. The chopper waiting to take us to the drop off point is waiting."

Dominic's hand closed around the nylon handle of the duffel bag sitting next to his chair, apparently filled with black-ops goodies of all kinds. Namely were his Smith and Wesson M&P-15 rifle. The MP15 was a new offer from S&W, featuring a 16-inch free-floating barrel in a four-rail tactical tube and flat-top configuration.

Dom's modifications included a titanium-coated bolt assembly, First Samco G27 ergonomic pistol-grip, Mako Security-brand foregrip, EOTech holographic combat optic, and select-fire full-automatic operation. The pistol-grip came with a plug that held additional batteries for his EOTech, as did the foregrip. The weapon also had flip-up ironsights as a backup in the unlikely event he ran out of juice. The factory-standard six-position buttstock had been replaced with a MagPul seven-position version that was much more solid and featured a metal stud at the base for close combat. An AccuWedge had also been installed in the weapon to nearly fuse the upper and lower recievers together, but at the moment they had been seperated to fit in his duffel. The Phantom-style flash hider could also mount a clamp-on surpressor for stealth work. A S.W.I.F.T. tactical sling rounded out a highly effective assault package.

His SIG was customized in a similar fashion, with a set of aftermarket Hogue-brand half-wrap combat grips to fill his large hands, throated barrel, widened ejection port, polished feed ramp, steel guide rod, and enlarged magazine and slide releases. The weapon was the standard matte-black finish, non-reflective so as to keep attention away from it when he had it out.

The bag also contained a MOLLE-capable level III ballistic vest with a pair ceramic shockplates for added protection. Elbow and knee pads also came with the vest, all of which matched his current outfit. The MOLLE-configuration allowed mounting points for magazine pouches for both his sidearm and his rifle, as well as carriers for a pair of grenades. Dom carried eight polymer magazines for his rifle, four for his handgun, plus a magazine in each.

The final pieces of equipment he had in his bag of tricks were a small J-frame Smith and Wesson revolver, a snub-nose .38-caliber weapon with four full-moon clips to allow him to fire 9mm rounds through it after the six rounds in it had been expended, and a silenced Ruger Mark II that came in handy when monkeys were involved...

"You got a place where I can gear up, sarn't?"

Dom's slur of the word 'sergeant' was commonplace in the US Army, particularly in the special operations community and Ranger units. He'd served in everything from Grenada up to two tours in Iraq Freedom. This included Mogadishu, Bagdad, and a few operations in Columbia, which was where he'd started carrying the Ruger...

Kali looked up from entering data from her folders in to her EDO MBM mini T PDA. The tiny touch screen scarely hampered her normal speed of one twenty, and she'd scan in the other information as time permitted.

She waited for the Sergeant's response to Dom's question, having been planning on asking the same shortly.

Hyde nodded at the door. "There is a quartermaster on the way to the chopper, you can pick up any supplies that you need. Also a locker room."


(OOC: Thanks Merc, Karma just said that on IRC. Couldn't quite get the word.)

Dom nodded, looping the shoulder strap of his duffel over his shoulder in preparation to move...

"Roger that..."

(OOC: You're thinking of a Quartermaster's Office)

Phoenix was already suited up of course, except for his helmet. He rarely takes off his combat gear, even to sleep. Unless he is practicing grappling or swiming he wears it 24/7 for the most part. A few hours before he came he removed it to shower, his first in about a month. Phoenix, like all K.O.P., generally treats his gear as a second skin.
He fastened his tactical gloves which he had loosened for a moment and stood up to say:
"I'm gonna grab a cigarette, meet ya'll by the chopper"
He walked out with his helmet under his arm and withdrew what looked more like a mini cigar than a cigarette. It was infact a powerful substance known as "Grush" used only by the TPM government and military. Containing stimulants, THC and a dozen other chemicals it was designed to give soldiers an edge in extreme situations, although some like Phoenix, had developed a mild addiction to it and did not like to enter any combat situation without a smoke. the effects would last between 3 and 6 hours and there were no known side effects other than occasional headaches. It smelled like a mix of burning charcoal, marijauna smoke and acetone but he kept walking towards the chopper as he smoked it so there would not be much of the stench lingering on him.

Roy nodded as he stood and headed out, picking the vital bits out of the folder. He then headed to what Hyde had indicated was the requistion room.

Looking at the man behind the counter he asked, "Can I get a couple seven round magazines of 60-grain .32 ACP."

Dom exited the locker-room five minutes later wearing his black MOLLE tac-vest, with the MP15 slung across his chest. He'd already loaded his own magazines with his favorite 62-grain Winchester Ballistic Silvertip ammunition, but by the sound of things he'd better bring more ammo...

"I'll need seven AR-style magazines loaded with 62-grain .223 ammuniton, preferably Black Hills ball if you guys carry it. I'll also need four magazines for a 229 Sig-Sauer loaded with Winchester Black Talon, 155-grain..."

He was glad he'd included the butt-pack in his inventory, it would allow him to carry the additional ammo without weighing himself down or cluttering his MOLLE vest...

The quartermaster had already recieved orders to give them as much of everything they needed. He followed each request with a nod.

Hyde walked up and gave the quartermaster a nod. The quartermaster slid over Hyde's Mk. 17 SCAR-H, his Glock 20c and his machete. He had been wearing his body armor, backpack and ammo pouches to the briefing, now he just filled them with necessary supplies and ammo.

Kali nodded, sliding her PDA into her Bac-jac and stood, picking up her gear.. She’d only need a minute to slip on her armor, it had been custom fitted to her.

With a nod to the Sergeant she headed for the locker room. If her changing there bothered any one, they’d need to get over it fast. TMZ was unisex as far as the military was concerned - she’d spent years ignoring others, and they ignoring her.

Once in the locker room she broke out her gear and skimmed down to underwear. The Cool Maxx body suit went on, then the customized tac op’s armor and the gear harness over that. She made sure with practiced hands that everything fit where it should and hung properly. A pair of Sig Saur P250 DCc’s, and three sets of Hibben gen 2 throwers. All slid into their accustomed places, and a Hibben bush knife sat at her waist. The Bac-Jac went on as did the PDA’s wrist unit. Clips full of 45 ACP and 5mm caseless took up all other spaces, and filled out the backpack. The helmet and her G11 were grabbed up after she finished emptying the gear bag. She fleetingly wished the group were using TMZ’s IFF transponders. She’d check at the Quartermasters.

She ended up at the Quartermasters behind Dom and Sergeant Hyde. "Sergeant Hyde, do you all use a tactical IFF?" She asked quietly, gesturing to the miniaturized intergal shoulder mounted unit on her armor.

"Ssthank you." Roy said as he accepted his ammunition, and mentally cursed the incident that had tracked the scar across his face, afflicted him with this infernal slur and lopped off part of his ear.

Lewis paid little attention to the woman who periodically stared at him, he put the folder back on the desk and got up to retrieve his equipment and use the facilities one last time before they were off.

Wearing a Ghillie suit wasn’t a comfortable affair; it was hot, heavy. But the advantages far outweighed the disadvantages. He quickly got onto the chopper his rifle in hand and ammunition pocketed safely in a insulated pocket designed specifically for them.

A cigarette? Talbert thought. He's going to be smoking while we're on a mission? And I assume he won't be cleaning up his own butt ends, which means it'll probably fall to me. Motherfucking great.

He went into the quartermaster's office, but was already ready. He slung up his backpack, picked up his weapons, and left out towards the helicopter without a word to anyone. He didn't take ammunition from the quartermaster, having already taken his own with serial numbers and manufacturer letters filed off carefully and individually. Anything that could be used to identify him from serial numbers on weapons to dogtags to pictures to where he bought his shoes had been erased, much of it with a file, or left in his safe house back in Haraki.

He was all but ready. He'd chosen not to take a shower, as the smell of soap or cleanliness could throw off not only guards but wild animals. However, he did choose to stop, change out of his uniform and into his first set of camouflage clothes, designed for mountain and desert terrain. With his backpack, LAW strapped onto the outside of it, he had everything he needed to survive the time in the mountains, and to escape should, say, Phoenix Seville, fuck everything up for them.

He was ready.

Hyde nodded, then put on his helmet. "Yeah, but I'm betting nobody here will register in each others IFF. Personally, I'm gonna leave it up to my eyes."

Anastasia walked into the room, stripped to her bra and panties, and changed into her black 'uniform'. An expensive article of clothing, of course. But comfort should never have to come second place. She reached up and touched a scratch on one side where a bullet had lodged itself partway in. The armour had been repaired, but she had left a mark there to remind herself to be more careful. Then she picked up her M7 and checked to make sure the ammo clip was in place. She slid it into her left holster. Then, easily, she picked up the Detective, flipped it open, and slotted the bullets into place.

And then there was her whip. It was a good whip. She had left her sjambok at her home, preferring the use of her other portable weapon. It had served her well in the past, she could still remember using it to throttle that one tribesman... and the person who had 'sold' it to her. Lewd bastard that he was. She finished her job and walked over to join the others.

Phoenix tossed his grush butt off to the side, cracked his knuckles and began to do a series of quick stretches. He fastened his helmet and lowered the facemask, and then proceeded to hop onto the chopper and then sat down to adjust and tune the optics on his AR-22A3 and the straps on his goggles. He leaned back agains the helicopter's hull and reached into his vest. He pulled out a small ceramic plate, and then drew a knife and started sharpening it on the backside of the plate while he waited for departure.

Dom's pre-mission ritual of slapping a magazine against the side of his head, slamming it into place, and pulling the charging handle on his AR-style weapon before letting it fly forward was completed in a matter of a few seconds. Seated towards the left side of the chopper, he'd keep an eye out for hostile contacts. He'd also remebered to pack those NVG's, which would come in handy when the sun set...

"Sarn't Hyde... What sort of resistance can we expect? A bunch of civlians packing AK's or something more dangerous?"

While Bakhara Market had proven that civilians armed with AK-47's could be a serious threat, Dom still didn't take them very seriously. The fact that he'd foregone a helmet seemed to reinforce that belief...

"I'll brief you more on the ride there," was all that Hyde responded with. He then turned and walked to the chopper.

Talbert went into the quartermaster's office only to take a pair of binoculars, high-powered ones which could zoom in and out manually and silently. After setting them to his liking, he took his seat in the helicopter, on the front right, and pulled out a file, which he began using to sand off any writing on the binoculars. His carbine slung across his lap, once he was done with the binoculars he picked it up and scanned the ground below and ahead of them, taking the opposite side from Dom.

The lingering smell of Seville's cigarette reached his nose, which wrinkled as he sniffed it and shook his head exasperatedly. The simple fact that that smell existed and the man seemed to have no regard for the fact that they were going into a combat zone was idiotic. But he wasn't here to criticize the others' habits. That was Hyde's job, and how he dealt with the soldiers under his command would mark him as a good leader, or a bad one. Apparently, only time would tell. Time, and combat.

After nodding a resigned reply to Sergeant hyde's comment, Kali snugged on her helmet, making sue the connections between the commo up links and other cu=ircutry were secure and trotted quickly over to the waiting chopper. Her nose wrinkled at the acrid scent of some sort of smoke that seemed to come off of Phoenxi, but she shrugged it off, save for the irritation that he'd not stand out and maybe endanger the rest. Ad if his attitude doesn't do that badly enough already! She groused internally.

Once settled securely in the chopper she began going over the driefing notes once again, and scanning in the maps with her roll over scanner. The PDA coupled with her GPS would help keep her and the others on track. The connection with the satnet were secure and encrypted- she sincerely doubted that the apparently rag tag batch of cultists would be able to crack, but she knew never to get over confident.

Unobtrusively she studdied her teammates yet again. She was somewhat uneasey at working with such a scratch team, but knew that she had to get used to it.

Roy settled into the seat resting his head on his chest. He wasn't an overt fan of flying and had a tendency to sleep whenever he had to fly anywhere.

He took one last look at the others and then fell into a light snooze.

Talbert looked over at Kali, seeing her looking through the briefing notes once again, scanning maps into her PDA. He'd brought his, too, but planned on leaving them in the helicopter. "I hope you're not planning on taking those off this bird," he said, pointing to the briefing folder and referring to the papers and maps she was scanning inside.

"If those fall into the wrong hands our whole mission gets compromised. They'd know our route, our plans, everything we know, and since we're outnumbered about six hundred to one that would be bad for us. Not saying it's likely, but anything can happen on a mission."

At least have the common courtesy to get rid of the notes and install an explosive in your PDA or something, he thought. I don't want to get shot because someone else fucked up.

Kali looked up as Talbert spoke. "Yeah I know it can." She added "When I said combat trained, I meant I have been in the field, as a grunt. Shot at just like every one else. Dirty, exhausted, and getting done what needed to be done, no special treatment." She gave him a level look, and glanced down at the folders.

"No these don't leave the chopper." She made a tiny gesture with the all most completely uploaded papers. "I indend to give them to either the pilot or co pilot as soon as I'm done"

She raised the 'hardened' mini computer. "This is an EDO MBM Mini T, fully militarized, with secure encryption, PDA. I know it's secure but no, TMZ doesn't take any chances and neither do I. This is state of the art and tweeked by the best with added features."

The machine 'chirped' that it was finished. "Besides, with the uplink to military satallites, this will give us continuous updates. What if the cultists have changed something since the original intell was gathered, or is changing as we drop in? This will keep us from getting blind sided. With the camera that's mounted on my bucket" She tapped the miniature camra built into her 'brain bucket'. "the images it sends to the PDA can be used to build us a map of the Temple's tunnels. My digital has a long range NV/IR lens. Want a picture of what you are going up against, real time, big enough for several of us to look at simultaneously? The PDA screen is big enough and high enough resolution."

Talbert shrugged. "I'm fine and happy with all that as long as it explodes or wipes its hard drive on command. As secure as you may be in your encryption, I don't trust it, and I'd rather not have any of that wonderful information fall into their hands. Hell, for all we know there may be a master hacker in this cult who could break it in half an hour." He paused for a moment, shrugged once again, and then picked up his folder, which he had laid on the ground beside him, opening it up and reading through the notes and maps once more, trying to commit as much as possible to memory before they left.

Anastasia leaned back and watched the others babbling. She had no interest in making conversation at this point, especially not with those currently involved. She reached across her body and started to softly rub a large ruby that was fitted in her ring. The former right eye of an idol in some godforsaken part of the world, it was one of the few treasures she kept for herself. It sparkled in the helicopter's light. I wonder what interesting things I might find this time around...

With everyone in the chopper, Hyde signalled the pilot that they were all ready to go. The muted sound of the chopper taking off filling the cabin. Once in the air, the chopper took off from the military base on the eastern outskirts of Thresh. It was at least an hour flight to the drop off point.

Once in the air, Hyde began to speak to the group. "Okay, once we get down, I'll expect you all to follow my orders. I know the terrain, I know where to go and what to do."

"As for the cultists we'll be facing and their armaments, reports show that most of them will probably be wielding farming equipment. Scythes, axes, that kind of thing. Intelligence also suggest that a large number have pistols, while only about two hundred actually have rifles. The rifles are supposed to be varied, so expect AK47s, M4s, and that kind of thing. They might even have some Sigman made rifles, but if they do, probably only a few. There are also sniper teams, but Squad B will be dealing with them before we arrive."

About half-way through Hyde's briefing, when he said 'intelligence', Roy let out a snore. Except for the straps holding him in, Black would have fallen over in his sleep.

Dom interjected on the conversation between Kali and Talbert...

"If she goes down, put two through the screen. Current intel says they ain't got anything they can use to piece it back together, so bust it wide open and you ain't got nothing to worry about..."

The mercenary patted the pair of M67 fragmentation grenades hooked to his vest...

"These also work pretty well. So do rocks."

He knew full well the danger of leaky intel, especially in a pitch-black operation like this one. Multi-national teams had a way of not meshing until it was absolutely vital, the 'Dish was a great example of that...

"What about the temple itself?" Anastasia queried from beneath her fedora. "Do we know what we might expect once inside?" The archaelogist had her pocketknife in her hand now, and was focussing on a few of the tools and functions. The bottleopener could be useful in lifting and so on...but you know, I should have gone with my knife.

Phoenix kicked Roy's boot and then nooded to Hyde and listened to the breifing... which was a little to "brief" for his taste.....


"Scythes, axes?" he thought to himself as he shook his head.
"Glad I brought my bayonet" he mumbled. According to the KOP honor code he could not shoot someone who did not have a firearm unless they posed a immediate threat to his life, but he could bayonet them at will. Most of his armor would be suitabile against slashes as well as smaller caliber rifle rounds though.. He tucked his ceramic plate back into his chest slot and waited for thier insertion.

"Inside....well, the map we gave you was as up to date as possible. We don't know if the cultists have done anything down there or not. Just stay on your feet once we're in."

Lewis closed his eyes as he felt the air rushing past ventilating him and the ghillie suit, he always enjoyed the rides going to and coming from a mission, very scenic and you got too see a lot more of the area from a helo than laying in one spot for god knows how many hours.

When the Sergeant start talking he snapped back to reality, much to the disappointment to the nice quiet little cottage on the lake in his head, retirement was still a few more years away.

Once again Lewis was glad he wasn’t going to be stuck in the front lines. A man with a knife may not have the range of a person with a gun but usually if they’re that willing to kill you’re, their either: A) on something, which means they’ll be a bitch to put down, or B) there’s enough of them that the number of bullets flying in their general direction will matter very little.

“Sir, does the intelligence say anything about rockets or other explosives?”

Lewis glanced inside the chopper then back to the landscape speeding past, his hands holding his weapon firmly, nothing worse than a sniper without his rifle, except perhaps getting shot by your own weapon some time later. Inside his head he was went over the basics of hand to hand combat, he had a few magazines for his pistol and his utility knife, not the first choice for holding back a human wave with lots of sharp objects.

"Not that we've seen, but you can never be too careful. Squad B should have more info when we arrive. They have extra orders to look for and remove any explosive weapons before we get there. These guys are experts at this, if there are, they'll find them."

"Sergeant," Talbert called out, "what's our backup plan? I mean, we've read all about the setup and the plan, to go in and take out these cultists, but what's our backup plan? What if we arrive and Squad B's been completely wiped out by horder of cultists armed with assault rifles and RPGs that we didn't know about?"

He was still looking over the maps, specifically how far it was from the insertion zone to their target. He wanted to know how far they would have to go on foot, where they expected any enemy sentries to start appearing, what vantage points there were over approaches to the camp and the camp itself - Basically, he wanted to know everything about the terrain and expected enemy movements.

Kali listened intently to Sergeant Hyde, refering again and again to the information now stored in her PDA, cross checking and memorizing. She wanted to depend as little as possible on the PDA. She knew the organic computer between her ears would make leaps of information no silicon computer ever could.

She was a little concerned about being dropped so close to their objective. She'd been in that sort of ared, mountainous, badlands desert before and she knew how far sound travelled and the moutain sides relfected it amplifying it. Three miles was closer that most TMZers were comfortable with, prefering to go in long range and sneaky. A three day hump it would have been better, and they would smell like their surroundings and be more comfortable moving though then. She shrugged slightly to herself, it hadn't been a TMZ op to plan.

She was concerned about electronic surveilence. Any civilian could order a 'watch dog' sentry system and lay it out. They directions weren't complicated, and while certain wweather degraded them to near uselssness, the system was surprizingly capable. The sensors network didn't require much power and some even came with integral solar pannels. Hard to see they could be stet to be tripped only by mansized travellers.

And that was just high tech. The old 'mod one mark one' human eyeball behind a pair of binculars at an over look could spot them coming in just as easily. And their target knew the terrain in ways that even Sergeant Hyde did not.

"Sergeant," Talbert called out, "what's our backup plan? I mean, we've read all about the setup and the plan, to go in and take out these cultists, but what's our backup plan? What if we arrive and Squad B's been completely wiped out by horder of cultists armed with assault rifles and RPGs that we didn't know about?"

Anastasia sighed and rolled her eyes. "Is adaption to circumstances beyond your power? I thought you were a soldier. If that happens, that's what happens, and there's really no way to plan for that." The archaelogist folded her arms behind her head, watching Talbert carefully. Then she gave a very rare, very small smile. "I believe traditional military doctrine when faced with such a force is to die. I'd appreciate any alternatives, of course, but I also tend to believe life is what you make of it yourself."

She was nervous, in itself very unusual. Most of the time Anastasia projected an almost masculine aura of bravado and confidence. Knowing the numbers involved, though, she was concerned that something could go horribly wrong. She whispered a little quieter, half to herself, "No plan ever survives contact with the enemy, whether that enemy is the weather, an angry tribe, or an army of cultists. Let's not worry about the back-up plan. Let's worry about doing the job, or if we fail, getting home."

"If we don't meet up with Team B, we shall call for reinforcements. If the enemy finds us and rushes en masse, we're gonna book it. I'm not particularly fond of dying myself, especially not on a PR stunt. An exceptionally dangerous one at that."

The chopper approached the landing site, a flat piece of ground surrounded by sparse trees. They disembarked and the helicopter took off back towards the base. But there was no sign of Team B.

After scanning the area with his eyes more closely, he saw a figure hunched over in the bushes. The figure stood up and revealed itself to be part of Team B. He motioned to them to follow him and then turned and walked into the trees.

Roy woke up and exited the chopper. He hadn't heard the two talking about not taking the mission info with them, and as he was use to sole ops, he patted his pocket to make sure that they were where he'd left them.

Spotting the B'er he followed.

Seville took a deep breath and brought his AR-22A3 into the low ready. He aimed at the ground a few feet away and pulled his trigger twice, it didn't fire, but it wasn't supposed to. The "trigger pump" that he just did was akin to pulling back the charging handle on older weapons. Now that he was locked and loaded he walked quickly behind the Sigman towards the woodline keeping his eye out for any suprise visitors.

Kali double checked that the folder was still where the copilot had stuffed it when she had given it to him. Grabbing up her CER she hopped lithley off the chopper and trotted after the Sergeant. She kept a careful visual sweep of the area going as she moved.

Talbert shoved his folder through the door to the cockpit, giving the co-pilot a glare to remind him of the briefing folder. He got a grim nod, and was satisfied. Shouldering his C8, he crouched down, put his backpack on, and stood up again, stepping out of the chopper to go and join the others over by Team B. All the while, he was constantly scanning the surrounding area, for whatever he could see. Any tiny thing could give him an advantage he needed over his enemies. The smallest rock could be the difference between life and death.

Not likely, but possible. He tried to drink everything in as quickly as possible, mostly to do with terrain and concealment.

As the chopper made it’s descent Lewis scanned his side, rifle at the ready incase he needed to snap off a quick shot. It’s not advisable to fire such a weapon in another position other than the prone position but the risk of a dislocated shoulder was a small pittance compared to himself and the others getting shot to hell by some lucky punk with an automatic.

Lewis didn’t wait for the chopper to touch the ground. As soon as it was low enough for him to safely land he hopped off and began scanning the area on the opposite side of the forest of Bravo team for any OpFors. Lewis followed the Sergeant, keeping his eyes towards the their flank.

Anastasia dropped down slowly and carefully. She smiled a little softly to herself, looking around. So far, so good. Nevertheless, her hand tightened around her pistol, ready to draw it at a moment's notice as she followed the Sarge.

The little red crosshair centered in the screen of his EOTech sight came across nothing except trees and brush, non-threatening stuff like that. The selector lever was clicked into the semi-auto position, allowing precision he'd need in this sort of close confinement.

Dom had the left flank covered, moving as part of the infantry wedge they'd formed into. He was slightly concerned about the amount of hostiles they were supposed to be facing, but that was what he'd packed the extra ammunition for. Even still, this could very easily end badly...

The member of Bravo lead the group to a small cave, the entrance of which was well hidden. Inside was an assortment of maps and a computer. "Okay sir, this is what we have. Apparently half of thier numbers left the mountains to spread their message in the rest of the nation. Command has already been alerted of this. One of our members has been here for three days infiltrating them."

He pointed at one of the maps. "He have confirmed that Sister Red spends most of her time down in the old temple. During the day, abot fifty cultists are also down there. I believe that if we play this right, we should be able to get in and out without being outnumbered 500:1."

He hefted the support weapon he carried with him. "I shall be accompanying you to meet up with the rest of Bravo. They are at a point overlooking the village. By the way, I'm Corporal Jagge."

Hyde nodded, then turned to the group, who had all heard the update. "Okay people, we're headed out again. There is a pile of Camouflage cloaks over in the corner," he motioned at a crate filled with brown camouflaged clothing. "I would suggest wearing one, to both keep the sun off and blend in better with the area."

Dom considered the offer, but his tattoo scheme combined with his current choice of attire blended pretty well with the forest shadows as it was...

"That a suggestion, or an order?"

"That was an order. These things blend in better with these mountains than anything else. They were made for these mountains."

Seville grabbed one of the cloaks and pulled out his knife before Corporal Jagge had time to answer Dom's question. He then cut it up into strips and then began to tie them loosely around his black uniform. The full cloak would have interfered with the ventilation properties of his high tech BDU and make it difficult for him to access his weapons and gear. He pulled a sticky, paper like patch off of his uniform to allow his internal cooling system warm air outlet and continued to wrap himself in the strips.

Roy looked at Seville and wondered when he'd end up with a knife in the back. With a shrug he slid into a cloak and flipped up the hood. It would serve better than clothing and was somewhat similar to what he was use to.

Talbert walked over and grabbed a cloak. First feeling it up for weight, looseness and accessibility for weaponry and other items under it, he found it adequate for all purposes. Slipping it on over his camouflage outfit and backpack, he threw up the hood to make his back perfectly camouflaged for the mountain terrain, at least according to what Hyde had said.

"Sergeant, we're going to be attacking in the daytime? Admittedly, that means less opposition, according to the intel, but it'll also make it more dangerous for reinforcements. Maybe it would be better to wait until night, even if it does mean an extra dozen or so guards, but that there's a thousand sleeping who can't respond as quickly as if they're up and about. Unless, of course, she moves back and forth from the village to the temple for the night, in which case that's probably when she's least protected and we could just smash and grab then."

Dom's mood brightened a bit at the suggestion...

"Lower visibility for the enemy means an advantage for us. We can sneak in a bit easier and start cracking necks when the sun goes down, eliminate or secure our objective, and move back out fairly easily when its dark. I agree with Mr. Talbert, here. We oughta wait until dusk..."

For a big guy, he moved pretty quietly when he needed to, at least quietly enough to get within range of a neck-snap. When your enemy was dead, he had a much harder time sneaking back up on you after you'd just snuck past him...

Hyde thought on this for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of both options. He decided that a night operation would be the more beneficial of the two. "Corporal, call your team, tell them we'll be meeting up with them, but not moving in until nightfall."

Jagge nodded. "Yes sir."

Phoenix lifted his face mask, turned around and looked over at the Sigmans like a kid who had just taken the last cookie from the jar... then he shook his head and finished his camo. His lips parted in a small smile which he quickly covered with his facemask. He would prefer a night assault, KOP's exceled in night fighting, he patted his Night Vision goggles one more time and got ready to move out.

Dom's personal set of night-vision equipment was a generation 3 AN/PVS-7B military-issue goggle system, complete with chin-strap and tilt-lock option to keep them out of the way when he didn't need them, like a brightly-lit room.

They'd served him fairly well in previous operations, and ran off the same batteries as his EOTech sight, which he had a decent supply of. They did, however, burn through them fairly quickly...

Kali was quite happy to make it a night visit so to speak. Her helmet has nv built in and she also had the astro lens for very fine long range work. She nodded at the Sergeant when he'd told them of the camofalgue cloaks and she'd collected one for herself. Once Kali had inspected it thoroughly she slipped it on and pulled the hood up over her helmeted head.

Anastasia grabbed the cloak and threw it on. Like always, it slid on to accentuate her features and beauty. Of course, no truly beautiful woman could look otherwise, no matter what she wore. "I'll support a nightvisit," she said, shrugging slightly. Her armour would keep any knives from being shoved into her back. With a bored sigh, she snapped the whip to her hips and put on her thick 'sunglasses'. After a moment, the nightvision screen popped open. "Working, good." Then she took the glasses off and slid them away.

Everyone but Clay donned the cloaks, his ghillie suit blending in just as well as the cloaks. They moved out to meet up with bravo team. The three mile hike would take a bit, with the rocky nature of the terrain.


(OOC: Roania, on my clock you posted at 11:58. I'm glad it wasn't 11:57, I hate that number.)

Dom rolled his issued cloak into a neat tube before shoving it between the straps that connected his buttpack to his vest. If your enemy was looking for the standard woodland pattern, he'd find it quicker than anything else. That was the reason the guillie suit had had the success it did. A broken outline was harder to pick up than the shape of a human, which was what you were probably looking for...

They came to a cliff covered with dead trees. The trees provided excellent cover from almost every direction. As the squad came upon the trees, another member of Bravo walked out towards them. He motioned to them, keeping one finger over his mouth signalling quiet.

They followed him into the trees and found a small camp, with another member of Bravo cleaning a large machine gun. It was still about two hours to sundown, and the rest of Bravo was out getting ready with traps and a fallback point.

Jagge spoke to the Bravo with the machine gun before coming up to Hyde. "Sir, the other members of Bravo are down in the village, doing undercover work."

Hyde nodded,"Very well corporal." He turned to Alpha. "Okay people, we've got about two hours before we'll be moving in. Make sure that you're absolutely combat ready by then. We don't want to fight everyone, so don't shoot unless ABSOLUTELY necessary." He looked at Seville. The last part was aimed at him.

(OOC: I know it's goin slow, but once we get to the action...it'll go much much faster.)

Kali found a deeply shaded spot out of the way of B company. She checked her CER over and the rest of the gear as well all her movements careful and quiet. She updated their position and other new information in the PDA. Then she set herself for an hours 'downtime' and half dozed, resting but not fully asleep. She would come to full awake a half hour before they were scheduled to move out. Time for last updates, a meal bar, and water.

Phoenix stuck his tounge out at Hyde. :p
Luckily his face mask covered his face and noone could see his tounge.
He walked around in a half circle for a moment and then dropped his assault pack and sat down, leaning his back on the pack like a pillow. He lifted his facemask, withdrew a power bar and sipped a sports drink trough his camelback. Once he was finished eating he tipped his head in a quick jerk to lower the facemask, cracked his knuckles and rested his eyes. He would keep an ear out for any activity...

Roy had been considering going in to try and remove Red right now but decided to wait a bit before suggesting it to the sargent.

Lewis followed the sergeant, again his eyes on their flanks, when they reached the camp he quickly checked out the surrounding area for anything out of place before returning to the camp. He made sure to check all of his equipment before finding a nice tree to rest against, taking a quick sip from his canteen. Usually he would have taken off his ghillie suit and used it as a makeshift pillow but there wasn’t much time, it was a pain in the ass to take off and then put back on, and finally he didn’t want to get caught with his pants around his ankles metaphorically speaking should the bullets start flying.

It only took him ten minutes before he gave up on a quick nap, instead he stared up at the sky above him dreaming of that nice quiet cottage on the lake.

Anastasia lay back on the ground and stared up at the sky, looking at the clouds. 'That cloud looks like the ancient American mummy I sold to the wealthy collector for $5000. And that cloud resembles a bust of Caesar.' She glanced over at Lewis, studying him carefully.

She had been waiting for him to say a word to her, but perhaps it was time to make the first move.

Dom clicked the brightness of the EOTech's reticle up a few levels as the sun began to go down, as well as starting to secure the headstrap of his NVG gear to his head. The unit itself remained up out of the way, and in the off position. He doubted the hostiles in the area had night-vision equipment, which would give them an extreme edge against their opponents should there be a night-time altercation. The fact that the EOTech's reticle was night-vision compatible made things all the easier.

He lay in the grass on the outer edge of their encampment ring, buttpack unhooked from his vest and currently in use as a support for his rifle to give him a bit steadier shot should shit hit the fan. This would be a long night, with sleep most likely a few days away...

Thirty minutes before they werew to set out kali brought herself out of downtime and visited the trenches briefly. Then she gnawed down a couple of dense ration bars and drank enough water to replace what she'd lost due to sweat and a portion more. She changed into clean dry socks, making sure her boots were propperly laced and that she was ready for the chill that sundown would bring in such badlands terrain. Braiding her hair she wound it up, and under her helmet, not waing it's bringhtness to give away anything in the coming dark. And she used the TMZ variation of muted camo to break up the high points of cheeks and chin.

Talbert made sure everything he had was combat ready, with all loose or flapping parts of his pack strapped down and his weapons ready. Given the state of the team, it looked as though it would be safer for Bravo to do the whole mission solo. Not tha, individually, the others were any problem - except Seville - but together, they were like a broken sieve. Every one of them had their own ideas for what was the right way to do the mission, and each one - including, Talbert had to admit, himself - was steadfast in believing their way was the best. It was a dangerous way to be, a team without teamwork or a leader they all respected.

Oh well. Stay alive, that's the key. They're paying handsomely and that's nothing to laugh at. If the mission goes to shit, stay alive and don't worry about the others in your escape plan. Some of them could be good soldiers, but I'm a freelancer. A friend just wouldn't work. Maybe I should take up the oboe. I could be the mercenary scout that blows up buildings and plays the oboe. That would be cool.

With all his things ready, he lay down beside a tree, laid his back against it, and settled in to get a little over an hour of sleep. It was enough time to get rested, while still leaving enough time at the end to be wide awake and not ready to make stupid mistakes. He just hoped it would be a simple smash and grab without too much smashing. As much as he didn't care for most of the other team members, he still didn't want them all to be lying dead on the ground - partly because he didn't want to seem them dead and partly because that would leave him stranded in enemy territory with no backup and against a numerically superior foe. Which would be godawful.

bump