Locks' lips curved into a friendly smirk as he took the smoke from the Frenchman. A nod of thanks came after as he placed it above his ear. He knew he'd need it a bit later. 

Ben turned his gaze to the newcomer, Staff Sergeant McKnight. He returned Sterling's greeting with a nod, meeting his eyes. The two had seen some shit in the few tours they'd served together a while back. Despite the horrors that waited for them below, Ben appreciated a familiar face. He knew he could trust the Sergeant with his life, if it came down to it. 

Captain Knight took no time beginning the briefing. Short and sweet, just how Locks liked it. Ben's jaw clenched at the younger man's request. [i]That must be Nicholson. Kind of a pessimist, huh.[/i] He'd heard some things - primarily good things - about the boy. However, Locks wasn't much for rumors. He'll see soon enough what he's capable of. 

"I think that's all we'd need to know, Captain. I'm sure if someone has questions they can ask you personally, thank you for the briefing. I need to suit up, I'll see you later, boys."

He gave a quick nod and smile to the other Captain, signalling his leave. Ben paced down to the armory, to where his suit was kept. She was quite the beauty. Pretty much everything he'd want in assisting him on the field. The suit fit him perfectly, as if it were part of his own body. It never ceased to amaze how mobile it kept him. He threw a few punches and raised his leg a bit, demonstrating the suit's flexibility. When he activated the cloaking device, the darkness of the suit flickered for a moment and disappeared. A grin spread across his face and he turned it off, collapsing his helmet while he did so. 

Locks walked over to his weapons locker, eyeing all of his toys. [i]Gotta clear the town.[/i] With the thought, he reached for his Mossberg, a beautiful shotgun able to hold 8 shots - one in the chamber, 7 in the magazine. He loaded it to capacity and filled the 6-shot saddle on both sides. He looked down the sights, imagining hostiles eating the gun's lead. 8 more shells clung to his left leg while 2 flashbangs hang at his right. His knives were secure and Sheila stayed loyally at his hip with his kukri on the other. He shot a glance at the push knives on his wrist and moved for his room. 

The cig from DuBois hung from his lips, now. Locks lit it and puffed gently. 

[i]Let's go, boys.[/i]